bookish-whore · 15 hours
Never Made A Difference
Rhysand x Reader
Words: 3.7k
Warnings: depressive thoughts, slight angst, suggestive language, implied sa discussion
A/N: Based on the snippet of Hozier’s new song from his unreleased album on Tik Tok. I’ve been thinking about it constantly and thought it would make for a cute fluffy fic. This is also my first time writing for Rhysand so let me know what you guys think!
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Today began like any other, I opened my eyes to find that my beloved city was shrouded in a dark mist, clouds hanging low as the continuous pitter patter of raindrops hit the ceiling. In all honesty, I found the overcast sky and chill breeze comforting, the dark clouds mirrored the bags under my eyes while the smell of rain reminded me of him and all I wanted to do was throw the covers over my head and ignore the world.
But today was my birthday.
I knew that disappearing from the world wasn’t an option, and my friends probably had some extravagant dinner party planned to take my mind off today and the fact that it had been fifty years without him. Feeling sorry for myself, I made my way to our closet, running my hands over his clothes, stopping every so often to bring my nose to the fabric as if his scent would still be there.
It had been ages since the smell of rain and citrus lingered in our shared space.
I couldn’t help but wonder if he knew what day it was. I wondered if time felt longer Under the Mountain, I wondered how he spent his days, whether he was eating enough, whether he was safe. The mere thought of him so alone, in that place instantly made my eyes well up with tears. I shook my head thinking back to the last words he had said to me.
I was in the townhouse, making a cup of tea, the sound of our Inner Circle laughing in the other room when it came through. His voice roaring in my head telling me it had been a trap. That Amarantha had enslaved them, he told me to protect Velaris, to protect our people and to remain with our Inner Circle and most importantly to stay away.
Then softly with the remnants of his power he spoke only to me. I think back to those words every day. “Y/n my love, my wife, my mate…I will find you again, I don’t care if it takes five hundred years, if it takes a thousand years, no amount of time with you will ever be enough and I promise you we will have more time.”
I brought my hands to cup my face, allowing myself this moment to break down. it had been so long since I had seen my mate, felt his touch, his kiss, his body against mine. I crumpled to the floor cupping one of his shirts against my chest as I cried.
As the sobs subsided, I laid there on the floor bringing my left hand up to look at the intricate swirling tattoo that adorned my ring finger and left hand. Before our mating ceremony, Rhys and I had agreed that jewelry was too easily lost, and we wanted something more permanent, so we made a bargain and on days like today it was all I had of him, so I desperately clung to my hand and the memory of him.
A knock sounded at my door, pulling me from my personal pity party.
“y/n” Cassian prodded, his voice gentle and soft from the other side of the door.
“Come in” I said sitting up from the floor, wiping the tears from my face as the door opened
Cassian didn’t speak. He simply got down on his knees and pulled me into a tight embrace. I couldn’t help the swell of emotion and my eyes once again pooled with tears.
“I j-just miss him so much Cass” I said into his chest, fresh tears falling down my face
“I know y/n…we all do, but he’s trying to protect us. If he could communicate with us, you know as well as I do that he would be annoying the hell out of us at the first opportunity.”
I laughed at that, using my sleeve to wipe the wetness from my face. Cassian brought his hands to help, his thumbs wiping under my eyes. If anyone knew how I felt through all these years it was Cassian and Azriel, we had all bonded over the years in Rhys’ absence.
We had made a lot of progress in the fifty years he was gone. Initially, we had all refused to believe what Rhys had said at first, but Cass and Az immediately went into an unhinged stage of denial. Amren was the one to speak sense into them, getting them to calm down so that Mor and I could drug them to make sure they didn’t act irrationally. Then came the anger. Cass and Az were inconsolable, they would spar all day until their hands were bloody and their bodies practically gave out.
Mor and I resorted to alcohol, we would drink and then we would cry, and then we would break things. I decided to completely ignore the bargaining stage and moved right into depression. I don’t know how the others were coping all I knew was endless darkness. I didn’t get out of bed for weeks, I couldn’t bathe, I couldn’t eat…eventually Cass, Az, Mor, and Amren staged an intervention and Madja got involved and I started processing what had happened, that he was gone.
And that brings us to where we are now, reluctant acceptance. We all understand why he’s gone, and we all know there is nothing to be done. Some days, like today, are worse than others, but we have each other to get us through.
“Happy Birthday y/n” Cass said softly pulling a small box from the pocket of his leathers.
“You know you didn’t have to get me anything Cass” I said gently taking the box from him
“And you know that Rhys would absolutely spoil you if he was here, and as his brother it’s my job to take care of you in his absence, now shut up and open it” he said with a sly smile.
“Okay, okay”
I gently untied the ribbon that kept the box closed, opening the lid to reveal a simple but intricate oval locket, it was silver, and the front was engraved with an outline of Ramiel, her three stars shimmering above each peak, the same image that adorned the tattoo on Rhys’ knee. I gently opened it to find a photograph of Rhysand and I on the inside. I wiped away the tears that fell as I stared at the image longing for those violet eyes to sparkle with a witty comment, for his mouth to part into one of his signature smirks. I stared at the photo wishing that it was him in front of me, but for the time being this would suffice.
“Cass- I-I love it” I said softly
“He’ll be back y/n, I don’t know when, but I can feel it in my bones. I know he’s going to find a way back to us, back to you.”
“I know Cass, I just- I need to know that he’s okay. The bond…it’s just been silent for all these years I don’t know if I would feel him hurting or i-if the magic that Amarantha has Under the Mountain nullifies his ability to feel me. I have tried so hard just to feel anything and its like an impenetrable wall was put up the second he walked into that party.”
“I know” Cass said solemnly his eyes casting to the floor between us “look, because I love you I’m going to give you an hour to mope. But after that hour you are going to get up and get ready for the spectacular day we have planned for you.”
“You say that every year Cass”
“And every year we manage to lift your spirits, this one won’t be any different.”
I smile and nod my head, he was right
Cassian stood from the floor, reaching out his hand gesturing me to do the same. He helped haul me from the floor before turning and walking towards the door.
“Azriel will come get you in two hours” Cassian said, his hand lingering on the door handle “and y/n…Happy Birthday”
“Thanks Cass” I said as he opened the door and closed it shut behind him.
I was slipping on my boots when Azriel knocked on the door. I could tell it was him from the distinct smell of night and cedar, that and the fact that he was always punctual and it was two hours from my conversation with Cassian to the dot.
“Happy Birthday y/n” he said as he stepped through the doorway. He was dressed in his usual leathers, cobalt siphons gleaming in the room’s dim light.
“Thanks Az” I said forcing a small smile to my face
“How are you feeling today” he asked, his shadows lazily swirling at his feet.
“Like I always do on my birthday” I say softly
“Well, Mor has outdone herself this year so like the rest of us you have to banish your self-pity unless you wish to incur her wrath” he said with a playful gleam in his eye
“Oh dear” I said with a chuckle “are we talking like outdid herself from last year or are we going to have another balloon incident?”
“Hopefully not another balloon incident, I don’t think the people of Velaris have ever fully recovered from that one” we both looked at each other and laughed
“I know its hard y/n, but we love you and you know we’ll do our best to take your mind of missing him, at least for a day”
“I know Az, I just wish he was here”
“We all do” he said “I know you do most of all, but you know he would want to spoil you and make a whole day of it, a week of it if he could”
I smiled thinking back to one year he did in fact make my birthday last an entire week. There were celebrations, parties, and so many gifts; unbeknownst to us it was the last birthday we would spend together.
“He absolutely would” I said
We both smiled, enjoying a brief moment of silence remembering all the shenanigans Rhys would create for my birthdays.
“You ready?” Azriel asked, breaking the silence as he extended his arm towards me
 “As I’ll ever be” I said taking his outstretched arm and together we walked downstairs to greet whatever it was Mor had planned.
It was quite the party and Mor had insisted we all dress up for the event. She was wearing her signature red, her dress tonight was a halter style with an open back and a long skirt that flowed out at her hips, it also featured a slit up one side that exposed her leg when she walked.
I was wearing a night court black; the top of my dress was a corset with intricate detailing that resembled the night sky over Velaris. it also had off the shoulder sleeves, and it had a long skirt that trailed slightly behind me as I walked. It had been a gift from Rhys a long time ago and I had only now been brave enough to wear it, the memory of him gifting it to me made me smile rather than cry which is why I had chosen it for tonight.
Amren was in one of her two-piece outfits, a cropped silver top with long sleeves made of a sheer fabric that tightened at her wrists paired with high waisted pants of the same color that were loose and billowing with cuffs of silver around her ankles. Cassian and Azriel had also dressed up, they both wore dark pants with black boots that reached their knees, and each had a black tunic with silver and gold embroidery.
The party was small, just me and our inner circle over a nice dinner at Rita’s. Mor had bought out the space so we could have it all to ourselves. They had arranged for all my favorite foods and desserts to be made. We spent hours talking, drinking, and reminiscing over old times when we were all together.
A few hours, and a few more drinks later, it was time for cake. Which was my favorite part of these parties. This year it was a massive four-layer chocolate cake adorned with candles. We had this ridiculous inside joke to put as many candles as possible on our birthday cakes. As fae we had an eternity of birthdays, so we liked to make the most of them by creating our own chaos. This year they had managed to fit five hundred candles on the cake, at least by my estimate.
Cassian, Azriel, Mor and Amren all began singing a loud and off tune version of happy birthday as they wheeled the cake over to me.
“Make a wish y/n” Mor said clasping her hands together, a beaming smile on her lips.
“Okay, alright” I said closing my eyes tight as I made my wish.
I made the same wish every year, I wished for Rhys to return to me. I wished to see him, hold him, hear his laugh. I wished to spend my life with him. I pushed those feelings through the bond, but I was met with the same hollow feeling, there was nothing but a deep emptiness where our bond once was.
I shut down that thought as I took a deep breath and blew out the candles on the top tier of the cake, the others joined in as we all attempted to blow out the remaining candles on the other layers. We laughed as the last candle went out and served ourselves heaping portions of cake.
It was a little after 3 in the morning when I returned to the townhouse. Mor had an apartment close to Rita’s, so she stayed there most nights, Amren went back to her apartment overlooking the river and Cassian and Azriel stayed at the House of Wind. It wasn’t like I could convince them to abandon their lives to help me piece together mine, even though I knew they would it wouldn’t be fair to them.
It was always so lonely coming back to an empty house full of memories of our lives together. Everywhere I looked there were reminders of him, there were pictures on the walls of our happy times, memories of early morning breakfasts on our kitchen floor and dancing throughout the house.
I lit a fire in our sitting room and made my way to our room to change out of my dress. I carefully hung it in our closet and put on one of his shirts. It was large on me and hung to my mid-thigh, the long sleeves hanging over my hands. I also put on a long pair of wool socks and made my way downstairs.
I laid on the couch in front of the fireplace curling my legs up and before I knew it my exhaustion took over and I fell asleep
I jumped awake at the sound of a loud crash
I was immediately on edge, I rolled off the couch onto the floor crawling across the room I knew there was a knife on the bookshelf, it was for display, but it would do to fend off an intruder.  
I quickly grabbed the knife and stood with my back against the wall listening for the sound of footsteps. Hearing none I quietly turned the corner to find a tall figure standing at the foot of the stairs, their back was facing me which would be an advantage. I slowly stalked closer, holding the knife in a defensive position ready to strike.
Then it hit me.
Rain and Citrus.
I didn’t believe it; I couldn’t believe it.
The knife clattered to the floor as my eyes widened in disbelief. I tried to speak but the words I wanted to stay just stuck in my throat.
The figure turned around slowly his own eyes wide in recognition.
My knees buckled and I collapsed onto the floor, tears streaming down my face. but he was already moving his arms wrapping around me as we both sank to our knees in the hall.
“shh…shh” he said softly tucking my hair behind my ear as his hand cupped my face. I looked up and finally noticed his face. He was pale, his usual warm brown skin a sickly white, and his eyes. They were the same shade of violet that I remembered but somehow there was a darkness to them. Like this Rhys was different than the one that left fifty years ago, and I wondered what happened in that place.
“Is it really you?” I whispered, worried that if I spoke to loud then reality would set back in, and he would be gone.
“it’s me darling” he said softly, his voice shaking as he used his thumb and forefinger to lift my chin and his eyes meet mine. I brought my hands to cup the sides of his face, needing to feel his skin on mine to know this was real.
We sat there a moment, simply staring into each other’s eyes, like we both couldn’t believe that this was real that we had found our way back to each other. I breathed him in, his scent filling my lungs and I pulled him into a kiss.
It was desperate, like we were communicating fifty years of affection within this one kiss. it was a clash of teeth and tongues, our hands roaming over each other’s bodies simply needing some kind of connection. His hand roamed up to my bare thigh and he froze, pulling away from the kiss.
“Rhys?” I asked gently “are you alright?”
He shook his head, withdrawing his touch, breathing heavily as he stared at the ground.
“I-I want you so badly, but-” he said his eyes rimmed with tears
“You don’t have to justify yourself to me my love, you know that” I said gently stroking his hair “Let’s just go upstairs, you can bathe a-and we can talk, or we can just sleep” I stood extending my hand to him, He nodded taking my hand as we made our way upstairs.
We made our way to our bathroom; I thought that a warm bath might make him feel more like himself, so I led him to the bathroom where I started the water, throwing in his favorite soaps and salves and looked behind me to where he was standing, his hands gripped the counter so tightly that his knuckles were white as he looked at himself in the mirror.
I made my way over to him and wrapped my arms around his torso pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Are you alright?” I said softly his eyes meeting mine in the mirror.
“I don’t want you to see me like this” he said softly, turning his head to look at me over his shoulder
“O-okay” I said quietly, attempting to hide the hurt in my voice “I’ll just be in the other room if you need me”
He nodded, pressing a kiss to my forehead as I made my way to the door, I left it open a crack and I watched in the mirror as he slowly undressed, his back facing the mirror and suddenly I knew why he didn’t want me in the room.
He has a series of deep red scratches down his back. Like fingernails.
What happened to him in that place?
I closed my eyes making my way to our bed as I waited for him to finish, a series of thoughts flashing through my head.
I was pulled from my thoughts by the door opening, as Rhysand made his way over to the bed grabbing a pillow from his side and making his way to the couch in the corner of the room.
“You’re not sleeping with me?” I asked unable to help the shakiness of my voice
“I don’t want to hurt you” he said
“You would never hurt me Rhys” I said,
"You don't know that" he replied
“What happened to you?” i practically pleaded
He froze
“I just want to help you” I said wiping a stray tear with my sleeve
“If I told you, you would never forgive me” he said his voice cracking
“You know that there is nothing you could say that would make a difference to me, I love you. you are my mate, my husband, my equal.”
“I betrayed you” he said
“You needed to survive, to find your way back to me and whatever you did, whatever happened to you wasn’t your fault” I said
And so, with a deep shuddering breath he told me everything. He detailed how he was forced to pleasure Amarantha how he was forced to help her torture people, and he told me the truth that he took their pain and made their deaths as painless as possible. Finally, he told me about Feyre, the brave human girl who had marched into her lair and saved him, saved us all.
When he was finished, we found ourselves on the bed, his back against the headboard with my head in his lap as I detailed what happened here in the time he had been away.
I could see the early light of the sun peeking through the window, and I couldn’t help but yawn, I closed my eyes but felt Rhys tuck himself behind me, his arm protectively wrapped around my middle as he pulled me into him
“You know the distance, what I had to do, none of it changed my feelings for you. and I crawled my way back here, back home, back to you”
“I know” I whispered
We drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms. Now we had nothing but time, and the rest of the world could wait until tomorrow.
Thanks for Reading!
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bluedietcoke · 5 months
y’all love the morally gray, snarky, grief stricken characters until it’s a woman. i’ve seen so much discourse regarding female characters who display the exact same character traits as male leads and are criticized for it while the men are praised. let women be cruel and vindictive. let them deal with their grief and trauma in destructive ways. let them be real. give them the same treatment you would give to your favorite male love interest.
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 month
Coming Home (Part Fifteen)
Azriel x Reader
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen
Warnings: None! Apart from angst, ofc.
No, no, no. Not now. This couldn’t be happening now.
Nothing existed in your head but screeching, screaming. None of the euphoria that had taken its place there only moments ago. An endless, relentless wind of darkness whipping around your brain and swallowing you up–
Mate. The word was clanging around in there somewhere, a millstone fastening itself around your neck. Not now, not now, not now.
You were winded. Leached of all breath, of all ability to think. Your trembling hands gripped onto the railing behind you – the only thing that stopped your legs from giving out beneath you.
Azriel was staring back at you, his eyes just as wide. But…understanding, it looked like, dawning across his face. Like the fog of a century of confusion was clearing, and things were beginning to make sense, realisation hitting–
You wanted to scream. You may have been screaming, for all you were aware of what was happening inside your head, and outside of it. 
Fate must have been watching from somewhere above, cackling at you. Why now – you wanted to scream at the skies. Why, when–
When you’d already made peace with the fact that you were leaving Velaris again – perhaps never to return. 
When before you’d even arrived at the Starfall celebrations that evening, you’d known this would be your last night here. That you were affording yourself one more night with the family you felt so disconnected from – and then you were out of here.
When you’d already written to Tarquin, informing him of your imminent arrival. 
Fate was definitely laughing at you. Definitely punishing you – perhaps for being the hateful, bitter person that the passing years had moulded you into. Perhaps you deserved this. 
“Y/N.” Azriel’s voice, though quiet as usual, may as well have been a claxon up on that roof. It hurt your ears, your head – your heart. He took a single step towards you. “Y/N.”
You blinked, tears spilling over that you didn’t even realise had formed. You attempted to take a step back – to get away from him – but the cold railing only pressed further against your back. 
“Y/N.” Az repeatedly softly. “You…you’re my–”
“I need to leave.” You choked out; you couldn’t let him say the word. Couldn’t allow him to make it real. You sidestepped him. “I need to go.” 
His beautiful features folded into a frown, lips parting. He reached for you, but not fast enough – you were already pushing past him. “Y/N…what…?”
“I’m leaving.” In great, hurried strides, you’d reached the door to the roof. Az was hot on your trail, his lips speaking words you couldn’t hear beneath the roaring of your mind. Somehow, you managed to force your feet down the stairs, though your legs could buckle at any moment. 
“Where are you going?” Az’s boots thudded closely behind you. “Dammit, Y/N.”
Home – you were going home. Somehow. You had to get out of here, out of the House of Wind, and back to your house – where you were then leave for Adriata. You just needed to find someone–
Cassian. That was who you were looking for. You reached the lower level, not even acknowledging Az following you as you took a sharp turn into the kitchen. It was empty – everyone still out on the main balcony, still going about their celebrations as if the entire world hadn’t just cleaved and shook – except for Cassian fixing himself a drink. You almost cried out in relief. 
“Cas.” You hurried over. “Cassian.” 
The Illyrian general looked up with a smile – that quickly fell as he took in your features, the tears streaming down your cheeks, the undoubtedly shell-shocked expression taking up your face. The stardust smattering your clothes and hair. And then he glanced to Azriel behind you, his gaze flickering between the two of you. Could he sense what had just changed? Scent the…the bond, perhaps–
“Cas, I need you to fly me home. Now.” You breathed, every part of you trembling. 
“I can fly you home.” Azriel spoke quietly behind you. He took a step closer. “I – let me take you home.” 
You backed away so fast, you knocked into Cassian, barely registering his warm hands steadying you. “No. No. I want Cassian to take me.” 
Azriel’s face crumpled again. That was a silent plea in his eyes. “Y/N…please…” 
But you were ignoring him. Turning in Cassian’s arms, and hoping that your eyes were communicating the utter desperation you felt. He shot one more look at Az before meeting your gaze, his brow deeply furrowed.
“Please, Cas.” You whispered. “Please just take me home.” 
Tracking a tear that rolled down your cheek, he nodded. “...Okay. Yeah. Of course.”
“The other balcony,” You managed to bite, your hand dragging Cassian towards the glass doors that opened out onto the smaller, unoccupied veranda. Your feet stumbled ungracefully, stalling and tripping every other step, but Cas’s firm grip was enough to keep you upright.
“Y/N.” Azriel followed, bursting so hard through those glass doors, it was a wonder he didn’t smash them. “Just–”
“Leave it, brother.” Cassian said, scooping you into his arms. You could have sobbed in relief. “She doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”
And then he shot into the skies, Az’s stunned, bewildered figure becoming smaller and smaller as the distance stretched. You clung to Cas with a grip so hard, your nails bit into his skin; you didn’t know if it was the fear of such a height, or just the need to hold on to something that kept you gripping, firmer and firmer. 
Cas didn’t ask questions – he’d always been brilliant like that. Leaving room for you to talk if you wished, but not pushing it. Even though his mind must have been crammed full with questions about what may have happened back there – he didn’t ask. Didn’t even speak. 
He landed just outside your property with feather-light steps, not even giving you room to argue as he pulled you up to the door and walked you inside, his hand a solid grip on your own. Not that you had the capacity, right then, to argue; you were seconds from collapsing, or – something. Hyperventilating. Completely fucking breaking. 
Cas stopped in the doorway, watching you silently – waiting for some kind of indication that you were alright – as you began to pace the floor, rubbing a hand over your chest as if to ease the ache that had gathered there. Maybe you would throw up, right there, over the dress Azriel had bought you. Part of you wanted to rip it off and burn it. 
“You don’t have to tell me anything…” Cas said, inching closer. “But…I’m worried. Are you alright? You don’t look alright.”
No, you wanted to tell him, I’ve never been less alright. The temptation to drop at his feet and sob until you were hoarse was very much present, but – there would be no chance to leave Velaris with him watching over you.
And that was the only thing that could make you feel better. Getting out of here. Leaving it all behind. 
“I’m fine.” You choked; it was laughable how unconvincing it sounded. “You don’t have to stay here. Go back to the party, Cas.” 
He didn’t move. Just continued to eye you warily. “...I don’t want to leave you like this. Did Az–”
“I’m fine, Cassian. I just – I’m just going to go to bed. 
Lies. You were such a pretty, skilled liar. Part of you hated yourself for it – for being deceitful. What if this was the last time you clapped eyes on Cas? The male who had been like a brother to you from the day you were born? What if you never saw him again–
No. You couldn’t start having thoughts like that…thoughts that would talk you out of your decision. Emotions were the last thing you needed to bring into this. You needed to be stoic, unblinking – to convince yourself that you didn’t care. 
“Seriously, Cas. I’m just…I’m exhausted. I need to sleep.” You paused – and then forced another lie that almost wrangled a sob from your throat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
No, you wouldn’t. And he had no fucking clue. 
“Just…send word…if you need me.” Cassian said. ���Whatever it is, I’ll come straight away. Promise me.”
“I promise.” Liar, liar, liar.
He nodded – stiffly, not at all convinced by you. But also not wanting to push you. Never wanting to push you. 
He stepped away, and then turned in the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder. “I love you, you know, Y/N.” 
Your eyes shuttered. “I love you too, Cas.” And you did. 
But it was much too late for that.
You gave yourself a total of fifteen minutes to completely lose your shit, to freak out and cry and scream.
And then you pulled the shutters down on your emotions, and you forced yourself into action. 
Glorious Fae magic had meant that most things you planned to take to Adriata with you were already stored into the pocket realm, ready to be retrieved when you got there. You planned only to clean yourself up, and to carry a light change of clothes with you that you could don as soon as you got there. Something far more Summer Court friendly.
It was when you were rifling through your drawers, making sure you’d not left anything behind that you wished to take with you, that you heard the thump. And then the balcony doors opened. 
Azriel burst in, nothing but a night-kissed breeze. You tried to ignore him, to not even acknowledge his arrival, as you continued moving about the room.
But he knew, immediately, what he was witnessing. His brilliant brain caught on in an instant, as he took in the room, lighter of some of your belongings that had been there before. The sight of you shoving that change of clothes into a small, light bag. 
“What are you doing?” His voice was guttural. He stepped further into the room, into your path, when you ignored him. “Y/N?!”
You stepped past him, throwing your earrings – the earrings he had bought you – onto your dresser. “I’m leaving.” 
“What? You’re not…you can’t–”
“It’s not up for discussion, Azriel. I’m leaving. Can you move out of my way, please?”
“No.” He moved into your path, his features crumpling. You could have sworn his voice broke. “You’re not going anywhere. We need to talk–”
“There is nothing to talk about, Azriel. Nothing.” 
You may as well have stabbed him straight through the heart, from the way he looked at you. From the way he fell so terribly still. His throat worked on a swallow.
“You,” He rasped, yanking you closer by the hand. He cupped your face in his palms, his skin icy cold, “You are my mate.”
You grimaced. Felt that horrible, dreadful thing that snaked its way beneath your skin, through your veins, into your bones. A lethal, deadly thing that was both freezing and scorching, empty and suffocating. It was evil, so ruthless and evil–
It was what allowed you to reach up. To grab Azriel by the wrists and prise his hands from you. You stepped away, willing your face into steel. 
“Do not,” You bit harshly – in a voice that didn’t even sound like yours, “touch me.” 
Heartbreaking – so heartbreaking, the way his gaze immediately fell to his scarred hands, as if they were the problem, as if they hadn’t been touching you so gloriously not even an hour before. He studied them, a muscle in his jaw moving, and then he lifted his eyes to yours again. 
Gods, they were haunted. Breaking. You could see it, and you wanted nothing more than to grab him and stop him from falling apart. But…but you were broken, too. You were so fucking broken, and nobody had stopped you from falling apart. 
“I am leaving Velaris.” You croaked. “I’m going to the Summer Court – to Adriata. I’ve already informed Tarquin. I’m leaving.” 
“But why? Why would you–”
“Because I can’t stay here, Azriel!” You snapped. “I can’t stay here and act like everything is fine when I’m falling apart and none of you fucking care!”
“I care about you more than anyone.” 
“You can’t just decide that now because a fucking bond tells you to!” You were shaking, so, so near to trashing the entire room. You shoved past Azriel, began picking up clothes just to give your hands something to do. “I came back here, because I needed my family. Because I was lonely, and hurting, and I thought I might actually find the love here that I yearned for so badly.”
“I know things haven’t been easy–”
“Things have never been easy for me, Azriel. Ever. And every single one of you knows that, but nobody wants to help! And why? Because I’m not like Elain? Because I’m not delicate and soft and sweet? Because I can deal with it on my own, like I always have?!”
“Well I haven’t dealt with it, you know.” You whipped around to face him. “I have never dealt with it. Not the trauma my father left me with, or Tamlin’s father, or you playing with my fucking feelings. Not Rhys being disappointed in me, who I’ve become, even if he doesn’t say it outright. I have never dealt with any of those things. I’ve let them fester, and spread, and now I don’t know where one bad thing ends and another begins. I fucking hate myself, Azriel. I hate myself, and I hate my life, and that is why I need to leave.” 
Those broken eyes of his stared at you so thoroughly, so pressingly, it felt like he was undressing you, peeling back every one of your vulnerabilities and leaving you bare, emotionally naked before him. He braced another step towards you.
“Then let me help you.” He whispered. “Please. I know I’ve let you down. I’m so fucking sorry for that. I know I should have been there for you. I know that I was a coward and I should have just faced my feelings instead of mistreating yours. But I want to fix all of that. I want to make this better for you – for us.”
“Why, Az?” You laughed weakly, humourlessly. “Because we’re mates? It’s too late for that.” 
“It can’t be. Y/N, I…I can’t lose you again–”
“I’m not yours to lose!”
He flinched – actually flinched, at your sharp words and cutting tone. The Shadowsinger, Spymaster, a figure of pure, unflinching stone, had become nothing more than a breakable object in front of you.
And you were about to break him.
But he’d broken you first. 
“I can’t–” You swallowed a sob, furiously wiping your eyes. “I can’t give myself to anyone like this. How can I be someone’s mate when I can’t even live with myself? I can’t!”
“I can help you.” Azriel whispered. “I want to help you. I don’t care about anything else.” 
“No, Az. You can’t.” You shook your head. Braved a step closer to him – even though it physically pained you not to reach out and touch him. “It’s something I need to do. It’s something I need you to let me do. I need you to let me go so that I can heal. Because I’m broken…and I cannot even think about accepting this bond while I am.” 
You watched him – your mate – as a tear escaped the corner of his eye, rolling down his cheek. His shoulders had slumped, and you could feel it – his defeat. 
“Az,” You breathed softly. “If…if you care about me…you’ll let me do this. Don’t make it difficult for me. I need to leave. I can’t get better here.” 
His eyes shuttered, sending more tears skittering down his cheeks. So badly, you wanted to reach forward and wipe them away.  But you didn’t. You stood your ground. Squared your shoulders.
Moments passed in silence. Of Az breathing heavily, slowly, like he was trying to calm himself. He pressed his lips tightly together, and you could see him fighting back a huge onslaught of tears. He wouldn’t let himself break right now – before you. 
“Okay.” He eventually rasped. “If it’s what will help you – okay. I won’t stop you.”
“Thank you.” You whispered. 
He cleared his throat – cleared the lump of emotion away. Straightened himself out. “Can I…can I at least winnow you to Adriata? Please?” 
You paused, not having expected him to request that. You supposed you expected him to simply relent, and then to take off into the skies where he would scream at the clouds and the roaring winds. Maybe get drunk on his own and return to the House of Wind once everyone was asleep, not there to witness him breaking apart.
But he wanted as much time with you as he could get.
And you…you were okay with that. Leaving again would be hard, even though it was what you needed more than anything – having him by your side, however briefly, would help. 
So you nodded, brushing past him and reaching for your bag. 
“Yes.” You said. “You can winnow me to Adriata.”
Even Azriel wasn’t powerful enough to lengthen the process of winnowing – although you sensed he wanted to try.
He didn’t just take hold of your hand, as he normally would for such a venture. He clutched your body to his, his arms snaking around you, his face burying into your hair. 
And then Velaris disappeared from around you. The two of you were dragged into that awful, whipping darkness that existed between one place and another. A darkness that was always a few degrees cooler than everywhere else and always, always so jarring. 
And then you saw it – a pinprick of light that was rapidly growing. You felt heat fanning your face, and you immediately picked up on the smells of balmy air and salt and sea. Even in the very early hours of the morning, Adriata had a brightness about it that was breathtaking. 
You were awed by the sights that you’d turned your back on all those years ago. But Azriel’s body had stiffened against you. 
Tarquin’s sandstone palace loomed over you, beautiful and brilliant in all its Summer Court glory. And there, in the huge, arching doorway, the High Lord stood. 
He was as breathtaking as you remembered. Cutting a casual, easy figure in pale, flowing clothes, the white of his long hair against the rich brown of his skin, and the pale blue of his eyes, had any potential greetings dying in your throat. 
He truly was a vision. A friend.
Azriel sat you down at the steps that led up to the door – but kept an arm around you. Tarquin moved forward, descending the steps with casual grace.
“Welcome back to my home, Lady of the Night.” He greeted you with a bow that he repeated to Azriel. “Shadowsinger – good to see you.” 
“Tarquin.” Was all Azriel offered – that, and a stiff nod. He stared up at the palace as if he couldn’t quite believe he’d gone along with this. As if he was considering taking you and winnowing straight back out of there.
You slid out from under his arm, turning to face him with a knot in your stomach. 
“I don’t want to go.” He whispered, brushing his fingers over yours. 
Tarquin had the good sense to look away and feign interest in a crack in the wall.
“I know.” You murmured back. “But I need this, Az. This – this will be good for me.” 
Tarquin cleared his throat. “She’ll be well looked after here. I’ll see to it myself.” 
Azriel glanced at him sharply, clearly reading a meaning behind the High Lord’s words that wasn’t there – and he growled. You placed a hand on Az’s chest, forcing his eyes back to yours. 
“Please Az.” You pleaded quietly. “Let me go…for now.”
He swallowed hard. “Can I at least write to you?” 
“I just...I just need some time. Give me some time, some space, and when I’m ready to talk, I’ll write to you.” 
He paused – and then gave a relenting nod. What other choice did he have? The whole point of this was for time, for space. 
At least he was trying to understand that. 
“If you…” He cleared his throat, “If at any point you want to come home, just send word. I’ll be here right away.” 
“I know you will, Az.” 
And then he just stood, staring at you, clearly not wanting to take that leap and leave. And it would have been so easy to grab hold of his hand and beg him to stay with you. So, so easy – but not good for you. 
“I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” He leaned in. “Whenever you’re ready.”
He leaned down, brushing his lips over your cheeks and your forehead in such light, gentle kisses. And then he stood back.
And then he was gone. A shadow splintering into nothing before you.
You gritted your teeth. Told yourself not to cry. You felt the warm touch of Tarquin’s hand on your arm.
“Come, friend.” He said gently. “Let’s get you settled in.” 
Az flew and flew until he could fly no more. Until he was exhausted, his wings begging for a break. Until he’d screamed so much, he’d nearly lost his voice, and the wind had dried the streaks of tears on his tanned face. 
It felt like it could have been anywhere between hours or days, just circling the skies and forcing himself to feel. To hurt. To recognise the consequences he now had to live with.
You were gone. And there was nothing he could do but let it be. To put you before everything and everyone else. 
The sun had risen over Velaris by the time he could no longer keep himself aloft. The Inner Circle would still be at the House of Wind – either soaking up a night of drinking with breakfast, or heading to bed for some much needed rest. 
Az could have done the sensible thing and gone for a walk, cooled himself off. He could have kept his mouth shut and wallowed in his pain alone. 
But then he was coming to a staggered stop on one of the balconies, and he realised – he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave this alone, even if he wanted to.
A feral anger was growing inside of him. And he needed an outlet. 
He kicked his way through the halls of the house. The combination of different voices coming from the sitting room told him that nobody was in bed yet. 
He’d have an audience, then.
Fine. That was fine. 
The doors to the sitting room were wide open, and they were all in there – Rhys and Feyre, Cassian and Nesta, Mor and Amren…even Elain was tucked into one of the armchairs, a soft laugh escaping her in response to something Cassian had said. 
Az’s boots thudded against the floor, announcing his presence as he approached the room and stepped inside. Everyone looked up.
“Where did you get to?” Mor was the first to speak, sitting up. “Cas said he flew Y/N home because she was tired, but you were gone, too.” 
Azriel may as well have not heard her, for all he acknowledged her. No – he stared at Rhys, and Rhys only. Stepped closer. 
It took seconds for them all to catch on to something being…wrong. That look in Azriel’s eyes…the fury–
“What’s the matter, Az?” Rhys frowned, an arm casually slung around Feyre’s shoulders. “Why are you–” He paused as Az stopped before him, his nostrils flaring. “You smell…different.” 
Az laughed, the sound dark, chilling – void of any humour. “Oh? What do I smell of, Rhys?”
“...Not sure…” The High Lord hummed, rising from the settee. He appraised the spymaster, eyes narrowed. “It’s like–”
“A mating bond, is what it is.” He snapped. “A fucking mating bond. That’s what you can smell.” 
The room fell so very, very still. Even the birds outside seemed to stop singing. Seven pairs of eyes blinked at the Shadowsinger. Not one pair of lips moved. 
So fucking typical, Azriel thought, that not one of them clocked it immediately. Because they wouldn’t automatically assume you to be his mate. Because they treated you like you were nothing, unworthy. 
“My mate,” Az growled, stepping closer to Rhys, “Is gone. Because of you.”
His hands shoved against Rhys’s chest before he could stop himself. Rhys barely budged, but his violet eyes flashed with feral challenge. 
“I suggest you calm down, brother,” He said carefully – his High Lord voice, “And tell me what the hell is going on.” 
Cassian had stood slowly from his seat, inching subtly towards the two males. He stopped just beside them, ready to jump in. 
“Use your fucking brain, Rhysand.” Azriel snapped. “Look around this room, and work out who’s missing, and use your fucking brain.” 
Somewhere – somewhere, there was a light, feminine gasp. One of the five females had worked it out. Probably Mor. Maybe Feyre. 
“You–” Rhys breathed. “My sister–”
“Is my mate, yes.” Az stepped closer again – shoved Cassian’s arm out of the way. “And she’s gone. Left again. Because of how she was treated here.” 
“Take it easy, Az.” Cassian warned quietly. “Hands to yourself.”
It seemed that neither of the other two males heard him. Azriel was huffing breaths now, trembling with utter rage. And Rhys…Rhys blinked–
“What do you mean she left again?” Rhys stepped forward, trying to push past both of them. “Where is she?” 
Azriel stepped in front of him, his shoulder knocking into his. “Summer Court. Said she had to go there because she couldn’t be here anymore. She thinks you’re disappointed in her – that you’re ashamed of her. And she totally fucking hates herself, and every single one of us is to blame. But you, Rhys? You more than anybody.”
Soft, delicate fingers brushed Az’s hand. Elain gazed up at him, worry in those brown eyes. “Azriel–”
“Do not touch me, Elain,” He ripped away. “Don’t you dare.” 
Cassian was in front of him in a second, gently pushing against his chest. “That’s enough, Az. You’re tired and upset – you need to calm down.” 
“I need my mate, Cassian!” 
The stark, pained crack in his voice was jarring. So rare, for any of them to see such a raw display of emotion on his face and in the coiled tension of his body.
None of them knew what to do. How to approach him. How to help him.
Cassian squeezed his shoulder gently. “Just…get some sleep, Az. We’ll talk when we’ve all had some sleep.” 
Not a bad idea – but how was he supposed to sleep with this gnawing, churning pain ripping him apart? When Rhys was just stood there, blinking into space, absolutely fucking useless. 
“She needed us. All of us.” Az said to him through gritted teeth. “But you more than anyone, Rhys. And you neglected her. I don’t blame her for wanting to get away from here. Not one bit.”
Cassian was tugging on him, trying and failing to drag him away. Speaking soothing words into his ear that Az couldn’t even hear over the roaring in his mind. 
“Az…” Rhys finally whispered, his own eyes glistening with tears. “I–”
“Hope you’re happy with yourself, brother.” Az cut him off.
There was a collective gasp of shock as the Shadowsinger’s fist went flying into the High Lord’s face. 
By no means the first time Az had punched Rhys – it was part and parcel of being Fae, ingrained in them to hash things out with fists until the matter was settled and they were friends once more.
But this punch was different. One of a truly hurt, crumbling, heartbroken male. The force behind it had split Rhys’s lip open.
Before anyone could say or do anything else – try to diffuse the situation or drag Azriel away – he turned and stalked from the room himself. His footsteps pounded up the stairs, down the hall.
Only when he was shut in his bedroom did he truly cry and break for his mate. 
Even his shadows didn’t bother him. 
Tags: @theravenphoenix26 @safetypinxtales @historygeekqueen @smartiepants217 @mulansaucey @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @issybee0611 @goldentournesol @percyjacksonspeen @high-bi-andreadytocry @esposadomd @positivewitch @bsenpai @cityofidek @shannonsaid @topaz125 @azzydaddy @nobody00sthings @sfhsgrad-blog @elizarikaallen @hanasakr @ruleroftides @mis-lil-red @reiincarnatiion @moonfawnx @new-adventures-everyday @davinaclaire16 @i-am-fascinated @lucyysthings @margssstuff @magneticforceofaswifty @xxoverthinkerxx @marigold-morelli @owllover123 @vera0124 @thewarriormoon @the-book-gnome @favoritecrime1 @pricklepearbloom @icantthinkofanythingplease @ilovespideyyy @kitty-kait @hwas-housewife @localhopedealerr @magical-mischief-makers @holywolfsstuff @grungy-blue-hipster
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bi-carli · 8 months
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ACOMAF page overlays by @madschofield 😮‍💨
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oliviajdjarin · 3 months
Azriel Shadowsinger: Nervous
Pairing: Azriel x female!reader (she/her)
Summary: “‘Look my love,’ he whispered into your ear, and placed his hands on top of your own, squeezing atop them lovingly.
‘We’re the same.’”
Warnings: intense descriptions of burns and scarring, trauma, swearing, slightly bitter, depressed, and angry Azriel, Cassian is here, intense insecurities, kissing, dancing, shy!azriel, shy!reader, probably cringey dialogue, please please beware of the scarring descriptions.
A/N: I have no experience with burn scars, therefore I will never understand the pain of having them both physically and mentally, so I in no way am attempting to romanticize them. My intentions are purely to show that having scarring in any way shape or form is beautiful, and nobody is worth any less because of it. Constructive (and kind) criticism of my descriptions is appreciated.
A/N 2: thank you @cityofidek for the push to write an idea I’ve had forever. Thank you! This is also partially inspired by hoax by Taylor Swift :) (I apologize in advance @leahkenobi)
SJM Masterlist
If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3
(pic gotten from Pinterest)
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“Look a bit more tense, brother.”
His puffed chest recoiled slightly, and his eyes darted behind him.
Cassian smiled. “Catching the Spymaster of the Night Court off guard. I never thought I’d see the day.”
Azriel released a breath of annoyance through his mouth and turned back around, facing the Mahogany staircase. His jaw ached from how tightly he had been flexing it, and how long he had been in his own head.
“Are we waiting for someone?”
We. As if Cassian understood what the Hel he was going through. As if either of his brothers understood.
Cassian stood next to him and exhaled dramatically.
Azriel turned his head to scan his brother up and down. He was dressed similarly to him—a well-fit, dark-black suit, dark enough to brighten his ruby-toned siphons. His hair was clean, his musk was prevalent, his face was shaved, and his eyebrows seemed to look…sharpened?
“Nesta’s idea,” he said, noticing the shift in Azriel’s eyes. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt. I was wrong.”
Azriel hummed in response, noting how Cassian was trying to calm his nerves with humor, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was fucking working.
“You nervous?” Cassian said, patting him on the back.
He knew the answer to that. Azriel’s fidgeting, bare hands behind his back proved it enough. He felt the familiar scar tissue along his fingertips, cringing at the thought of your face when you saw them.
Why did he wait until now to show you them?
He was a fucking idiot. An asshole. A coward.
He had trusted you with everything, everything, except for this. The part of him he loathed above all else. The piece of himself he wanted to bury.
“Hey,” Cassian said, snapping him out of his own daze once again. “You can do this. She loves you. We can see it.”
Could she love a liar?
“Y/N is kind. One of the kindest females I’ve ever met,” Cassian continued. “It’s going to work out.”
How fucking easy that would be for Azriel to say, if he wasn’t the one who was left behind.
He had watched Rhysand crumble for Feyre. He thought it would kill him, but he saved her. It worked out.
He had watched Cassian tip-toe around Nesta, accepting any scrap of herself she fed to him, and then it all went up in flames. But it worked out.
All of it worked out.
For them.
Azriel loved his brothers more than anything. He was elated for them, but the facts still remained: their beds, their hearts, and their bonds were full.
But what about his? What about him? The last one. The straggler. The one who had picked his brothers up, relating to the missing pieces inside of them, and finding comfort in their mutual sadness.
He never thought about what would happen when they didn’t need him anymore.
Until, he found you.
An ember of light in his never-ending darkness. The shade of blue that complimented his own, the only being in the world that made the chorus inside his soul begin to sing.
His unwanted jealousy and resentment for his brothers began to disappear, and his energy went only to you.
Fuck yeah Azriel was nervous. You were all he had ever longed for, everything he would never deserve, and the only person he would dance with on Starfall.
He groomed himself as best he could, making sure to add a touch of the cologne you had complimented him on.
You smell…woodsy. Like a forest, you had said late one night. I like it.
It was safe to say his heart just about dropped out of his ass when you said that, and he had worn it every day since.
He inhaled, letting the crisp night air coming through the House of Wind windows fill up his lungs, and he exhaled.
Cassian was right. You were kind. Wonderful. Beautiful. His scars were one of the many pieces of him that you would accept…hopefully.
Until then, he would stand there and wait, all night if he had to, even if it was just to catch a glimpse of you.
Your eyes alone would put every star to shame.
“Shake out those shoulders,” Mor said behind you. “You’re too tense.”
You exhaled through your nose and did as she asked, waving your arms side to side. You rolled your shoulders as well, feeling them begin to ache from how hard you were clenching them.
“Come on Y/N,” she said. “Look at you!”
You were. That was the problem.
You had never felt more beautiful in your life.
From the tips of your feet to the flyaways of your hair, you were coated in a thin layer of glitter. It was so faint that it only showed in certain lighting, and Mor applied just enough on you to make it look natural. You skin looked angelic, while your dress…
It was anything but holy.
The midnight blue complimented your skin tone beautifully, and, as if the glitter lining your skin wasn’t enough, every fold and crease in your dress was encapsulated with diamonds. Real diamonds.
You didn’t want to ask how much this cost. You really didn’t.
The fabric was perfectly comfortable, hugging your body exactly the way you wanted it to. Your makeup matched the colors cascading over your body, and your hair was done just enough to still look like you.
“If Az isn’t on his knees by the end of the night,” she said admiring you. “I sure as Hel will be.”
You rolled your eyes at her, knowing she was poking at you to get you out of your head, but it wasn’t working.
“Y/N,” she said, “he will love every inch of you. He already does.”
You swallowed grimly, still staring at yourself in the mirror.
You didn’t know the dress would be backless. You didn’t know how much of you it would show.
And you hadn’t told Azriel yet.
You closed your eyes, unable to get the picture and feeling of it out of your mind. The burning agony that stretched up the length of your back when it happened, and the painful bliss of the aftermath. You did it for the Night Court. You did it for the High Lord.
You did it for your family.
But that didn’t make the scar stretching from the bottom of your spine to the middle of your shoulder blades any smaller, and that didn’t make the memories of it any smaller either.
Why did you wait until now to show him?
Mor knew, Feyre knew, and Nesta knew. That was it. Besides that, you kept it to yourself. You had accepted it as a part of you, but you still wanted only those closest to you knowing about it.
Yet Azriel was the closest, and he still didn’t know.
You had never met another male—or person—that you weren’t afraid of in one way or another. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, you knew he wouldn’t leave you, and you knew his soul better than your own.
He had never seen you naked, but that felt fleeting. Unimportant. He had seen enough of you to know you.
This was the last piece. The final step.
“Y/N?” Mor asked, and your head cleared. “Please try and stay in the moment as best as you can. I promise tonight will be perfect.”
She looked equally as stunning—an emerald dress highlighting her golden locks, as well as diamond earrings that shimmered in the moonlight. You smiled at her, feeling lucky to call her your friend. A true friend.
“Thank you Mor,” you replied. “It’ll be perfect for you too. You deserve it.”
She smiled, surely imagining the dance she saved for tonight, and she nodded her head.
“Now let’s go,” she said, ushering you out of the room. You laughed as she did this, and a sprout of hope began to bloom in your chest, covering your lakes of doubt with its shade.
I’m excited, you told yourself. So fucking excited.
“You should try it Az, really,” Cassian continued. “You’d think it wouldn’t hurt, but my eyes watered like a babe.”
Azriel scoffed a laugh, feeling a small smile come onto his face.
Cassian took this as his in, his deep chuckle echoing up the stairs. “I’m serious! You’re laughing now, but I guarantee—”
It was then that a different noise began to echo, sprinkling down the stairs like snow. It was more rare and priceless to him than a jewel.
Your real, genuine, laughter.
He pictured how your head would be thrown back slightly, a maneuver he had only gotten out of you a few times, and how bright your eyes would turn.
He wasn’t ready. Not at all.
“Here they come,” Cassian said, straightening his shoulders. Azriel did the same, feeling a bead of sweat drip down his back. His brain went faster than he could keep up, causing his throat to close. He pictured every little detail on his body, hoping and praying he looked good enough for you.
It was when he brought his hand up to his mouth, checking the smell of his breath quickly at the risk of you seeing his hand, that Cassian broke out into a smile.
And there you were.
He knew, in that moment, that the Mother hadn’t cursed him. The Cauldron wasn’t wrong. They just needed time to craft you, making you into the closest thing that there was to them as they could. He needed to experience his grief, his regrets, his pain, to make you that much more of a gift.
You had to be a goddess. You had to be.
And he was one lucky bastard, because you couldn’t take your eyes off him.
Your second thought as you walked down the stairs, taking note of the way your heels hit the wood to avoid smashing your face in, was how lucky you were for the angle. There was no way anyone on the floor would see your back.
Your first thought, however, was how waterproof the eye-makeup Mor gave you was.
The most beautiful male you had ever seen in your life was staring at you—staring at you—with lips opened wide enough to see the tips of his teeth. You knew him well enough to know that that was the equivalent of his jaw hitting the floor.
Tears misted your eyes, dribbling onto your lower lashes, at the sight of how hard he tried. His hair was tidy, his skin was clean, and his hair was fluffed just how you liked it to be. He wore a shade of black so dark it mixed in with his shadows, bringing out the golden-tones of his eyes. The material hugged his body perfectly, so perfectly that he definitely got it fitted.
You assumed he got his midnight blue pocket square as well, the exact color of your dress.
You almost froze on the steps, but some force inside of you was pulling you to him, so you kept walking.
You made it to the bottom of the staircase, and he was still standing there for you. As stiff as a board, his wings tucked in respectfully, like a king waiting for his queen.
Was that how he saw you?
“You look gorgeous Y/N,” Cassian said, but you could barely snap away from Azriel’s eye-contact.
Your eyes darted to his. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”
He stepped up to you and brought your hand to his mouth, pecking it gently. “Thank you.”
He stepped to the side, giving a similar comment to Mor, so you got a full view of Azriel again, who was shooting darts with his gaze into the back of Cassian’s head.
You smiled, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.
If looks could kill.
Azriel quickly looked back to you and scanned you from head to toe, still keeping his hands behind his back. The anger in his body relaxed, and he released a breath from his mouth.
“You are—” he started, unable to finish. Beautiful wasn’t even close to enough. “You are…stunning Y/N.”
You smiled, feeling heat crawl up your neck.
“Thank you, Azriel” you responded. You never called him Az. Not once. You liked the feeling of his full name on your tongue. “You are as beautiful as ever.”
He swallowed, looking down at his feet. That word always made him turn shy on you, and you reveled in it. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”
You smiled, seeing the blush on his tan skin. The awkwardness felt juvenile, but it was the most alive you felt in days. It almost made you forget about your throbbing scar.
“Shall we?” Azriel asked, holding out his elbow. His hands rested awkwardly against his lower back, but you didn’t mind. You smiled even wider and looped your hand through it, allowing him to escort you to the rest of the Inner Circle. You stood close enough to him so that your back was impossible for him to see without straining his neck, and you got a whiff of your favorite smell in the world.
You repeated Mor’s words like a mantra. Stay in the moment. Tonight will be perfect.
It would surely be interesting.
Azriel had never been filled with so much awe and dread at the same time.
He couldn’t even fucking glance at you without his knees threatening to crumble him to the floor, but at the same time, he had never been more on edge. His hands danced from his back to his pockets to your waist. They never moved even remotely close to your eyesight, which was a feat in itself.
He knew this was your first Starfall. He knew how excited you were for this moment, and he really fucking hoped his behavior wasn’t the reason you were acting so stiff and…touchy. It was like you were keeping him attached to your side by his shoulder, refusing to let him get a glance at any more than just your front. Even when you slow-danced to the music, you didn’t seem comfortable with tucking your head underneath his chin or leaning on his shoulder. The two of you had slow-danced before, leaning into each other much more intimately, but your body language told him otherwise.
He wondered if you didn’t like the way the dress hugged your figure, or that you were so anxious to see the stars you didn’t know what to do with your body. Either way, all he wanted to do was see all of you. Feel all of you, and tell you how beautiful every inch of you looked under the moonlight.
He could call you much more poetic things than “stunning.” He could already feel Cass never letting that one go.
Nevertheless, after your dance, you slowly backed away from him, giving him a sinful view of your perfect bust.
“I’m going to grab a drink. Would you like one?”
He shook his head. “No thank you. I’d like to dance with you again, if you’d like.”
“Yes,” you said breathlessly. “Yes I would. I will meet you after this song.”
“Great,” he said, and your eyes darted behind him for barely a second before Mor was calling his name.
“Azriel, you’ve got to have a drink on Starfall. It’s tradition!”
He nodded to her, politely, and when he turned around you were nowhere to be found.
He exhaled, frustrated, and closed his eyes.
He should’ve known he’d fuck this up too.
The fresh night air cooled your dewy skin brilliantly, allowing you to get some much needed oxygen into your lungs.
What the Hel were you thinking?
He was so close, so fucking close to seeing it, and you knew he could read your behavior like a book. He was the Spymaster for Cauldron’s sake, how couldn’t he have noticed?
You leaned on the railing of the balcony, trying to listen to Mor, trying to be in the moment, but it wasn’t working.
Why couldn’t you just love that part of you? Why did you feel the need to hide it, from him of all people? Why couldn’t you just enjoy Starfall like everyone else?
You couldn’t even dance with the male you loved without ruining it. Ruining everything.
You should have known you’d fuck it up.
Your dress felt too tight, your head was pounding too loud, and you tried desperately to stop the tears, but they always came. You felt the familiar ache in your throat from holding back your cries, and the wind from the brisk night sent chills down your spine.
You heard music, singing, and laughter down the street. You really wish you didn’t. You wished you could just join in. Be normal. Be understood.
Nothing felt more impossible.
You rubbed your fingers on your temples, applying pressure to relieve your growing migraine. You thought about how cliché this all was—you got your perfect dress, your perfect dance, and now you were crying on a balcony in the middle of the night. The last thing you needed was your—
…knight in shining armor.
You were so in your head you didn’t feel him coming—a weird sixth-sense you always seemed to have with him—and you didn’t feel him watching you. Watching your panicked breaths, still in awe of how beautiful you looked completely raw.
You didn’t feel him move closer to the glass-door, getting a closer and closer view of how your skin reflected in the moonlight until finally—finally—he saw it. The piece of you you loved more than anything and yet hated. The piece of you that proved your love and courage, yet the scar on your skin that branded you for life.
He had to remind himself to breathe.
You knew he saw it, and your stomach turned inside out. The contents of your dinner threatened to spill over.
You didn’t respond to his call; instead, you continued to face away from him, eyes locked on the buildings scattered across Velaris. The commotion inside and down the street still continued, but your senses felt dialed to zero. Your brain began to muddle, silencing everything but his movements and breaths.
The panic began to creep up your throat, paralyzing you, and more tears escaped you as he stepped closer and closer. His shoes scuffed along the hard floor, causing your knuckles to tighten around the railings.
“I—” you began, wanting to explain everything, but you felt the heat of his body suddenly hit the back of your own. That fucking cologne reached your nose yet again, and the feeling unique to Azriel’s presence wormed its way up your body.
“Y/N,” he whispered. “Can I touch you?”
Your eyes widened, causing your sticky tears to stretch across your face, and a drop of heat rippled waves over your core.
How many times had you dreamed of those words in his voice?
“Yes,” you responded. Breathless.
A hand wrapped around your waist, pressing your back against his taut torso. You looked down, seeing how pretty his hand looked against you, and you swore to the gods your heart stopped.
Was that—
“Look my love,” he whispered into your ear, and placed his hands on top of your own, squeezing atop them lovingly.
“We’re the same.”
His hands were…scarred. Badly. It stretched up to his wrists, and your body shuddered at their vision. His squeezed the top of your hands a bit harder, grounding you to the railing.
“What—” you began. “What happened?”
He tucked his nose into your hair, breathing you in.
“My step-brothers,” he whispered. “They used fire. Thought it would be funny.”
You sniffled, licking your lips. More and more tears began to fall. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he mumbled into your neck, and kissed it firmly. His body against your own felt magnetic, and all you wanted to do was melt into it completely. Becoming one.
“What about yours?” he asked. “If you’re comfortable.”
You nodded and licked your lips once more. “It was when Devlon got me.”
You felt him stiffen and his breathing halt. His hands dug slightly into yours, not enough to hurt, but enough to feel his anger rise.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
You squeezed down on the railing. “I didn’t know how.”
He took a deep breath in, looking at his large hands covering yours, and released it. Letting his anger go.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”
You swallowed. “Was there a reason you didn’t tell me?”
He started rocking you side to side, not responding for some time. You bathed in the feeling of him around you, feeling nothing else.
“I didn’t know how either.”
You smiled grimly, not knowing what to say. “I guess we are the same.”
He kissed your neck again. “In every way.”
And there it was—understanding. The one thing you craved your whole life. You had it.
You didn’t know what else to do but lean further into him and bask in it.
You looked up at the stars and spirits beginning to make their way across the sky, expecting to be blinded by their beauty. You had pictured this day since you were a child—their silver tails, the glittering stars, their never-ending brightness.
But nothing felt better than this embrace. Nothing.
You picked your right hand up from the railing and brought Azriel’s hand to your mouth, kissing down to his wrist. He began breathing huskily in your ear. Only for you.
Chills ran down your spine at the thought of what you were about to admit.
“They’re beautiful Azriel,” you whispered into his hand. “Every part of you is.”
The breath in his throat caught, causing him to choke up, and you felt one of his tears drip down your neck. His pulse was so intense you could hear it.
He was struggling to find words—the right words—and you smiled.
You had caught the Spymaster of the Night Court off guard. You never thought you’d see the day.
Eventually he exhaled and fully hugged you from behind, and you felt his hand squeeze your own three times.
“You are so much more than stunning,” he mumbled. “So much more than beautiful. So much more than the stars in the sky.”
He pulled away, and whispered “stay” in your ear as he did. His hands slid from your own, and you felt suddenly bare. He had a full view of the expanse of your back now, and you didn’t know what he would think being so close to it.
He paused, scanning you, and you felt an urge to turn around and shake him, screaming say something.
He didn’t. Instead, the back of his scarred hand traced down your own scar, and you couldn’t help the almost erotic breath that left you.
The gravity of what he was doing hit you like a wave, and you couldn’t help the small cry released from your mouth.
His scar met your own all the way down to the bottom of your spine before he bent down and traced it with kisses, all the way back up to the middle of your shoulder blades.
“I love you Y/N,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to the back of your head.
The Starfall in front of you could have been a portal to another dimension for all you cared. Nothing would have stopped you from turning to face him, smiling wider than you had all night.
“I love you Az—” you began, but were interrupted by his hands framing your face and his lips pressed against yours.
You had kissed before, mostly pecks with some longer ones in-between, but this was different. This was acceptance of every inch of each other, down to the most minute detail.
His hair weaved in between your fingers as your lips molded to his. He tasted of cider and lemon—surely from the dessert table—and his hands tilted your head up just so. He mapped your mouth out with his own, and the songs within your souls found their match.
You wished you could bottle this moment in time and show it to your past self.
Look, you would tell her. We made it.
We made it.
You whimpered when he pulled away, already pulling him back in by his suit coat, but he just grinned. He memorized your blown-out eyes and swollen lips, feeling his insides melt at the sight, and you smiled up at him, the stars falling behind you making you ethereal.
Nothing else mattered but the sight of you, and he knew, in that moment, that everything would work out for him.
Tag list: (if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists, please let me know! I apologize if your name is not added or not working)
@leahkenobi @azsazz @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen123 @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @sayhitomommy @wickedazriel @xxpeachyxo @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @evlynclia @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @red-highlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhore @mystic-scripture @wolfyland07 @are-y0u-sirius @hilism @tooobsessedstuff @simplysensually @hernameispia @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5
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queen--of--shadows · 2 months
Healing Shadows: Part 7
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Reader is a gifted surgical healer and water bender. Rhysand needs her help when he finds out about Feyre’s risky pregnancy. Azriel finds out reader is his mate.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2,916
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
Part 7: Mate
It was the morning of Solstice. Azriel paced around his room, unable to sleep all night, unable to get you out of his mind.
From the moment Rhys introduced you to him before Feyre’s surgery, you seized every waking moment of Azriel’s life. He couldn’t even blink or sleep without you consuming his thoughts. He took any opportunity to be around you, brush his fingers against yours, his ruined hands aching to run over every inch and curve of your body.
Azriel had a suspicion as soon as you walked into the House that you were his mate. His shadows were annoyingly obsessed with you, always finding an excuse to swarm in your direction, and it took everything in his power to keep them leashed under his command. He and his shadows were entranced by you, and although he knew he should keep his distance, he couldn’t help himself as he kept finding reasons to be near you, talk to you, touch you.
But he knew better than to get his hopes up. Cassian and Rhys—they were deserving, more than deserving of mates. They were honorable, gentle, kind, strong. His brothers were the most noble and fiercely loyal men he had known his entire life. Azriel wished he could say the same about himself. His self-hatred ran deep, feeling no better than bastard-born murderous scum. He did nothing right to deserve someone like you in his life, and the Mother knew it. He had always wished for a mate, the desire becoming all-consuming when Feyre and Nesta came around. He was happy for his brothers but couldn’t contain the jealousy that would eat away at him in his loneliness.
And then you showed up, like a gift from the Gods, with your bright sparkling eyes, sweet honey-jasmine scent, the melodic sound of your laugh that skittered along his bones.
All night, he replayed his failed attempt at impressing you yesterday with a surprise flight when you returned from town with your shopping bags in tow. He thought the gesture was sweet, and he was delighted to be the first one to take you flying, but your grumbling had Azriel reeling all night.
He knew what you were thinking: that something was going on between him and Elain. He wanted so badly to explain that there was nothing; he simply had to play nice with his brother’s sister-in-law, per Rhys’s commands. Everyone knew Elain had been pining over him since they first met in the mortal realms, but Rhys didn’t want to risk any tensions between Feyre’s sisters, already traumatized from dealing with Nesta’s backlash after she was Made. Azriel had no choice but to keep the peace, even if it meant never setting that boundary with Elain. He knew it was wrong and that he should just be honest with her, but he was afraid of causing any disturbance with the sensitive female. He was caught now between placating Elain and allowing a misrepresented image of himself in your perspective, worsening by the day as Elain constantly barged into your private moments with him. Az cursed himself, but today would be the day. He would end everything with Elain on Solstice and confess his true feelings to you.
He left for town right before you, hoping to “casually” run into you in one of the stores or strolling through the streets, tracking your scent from shop to shop. Your gift was the last one he had to pick up. He knew the second he saw that they were perfect: soft black leather gloves, lined with fur on the inside to keep your hands warm during training in the morning, with the very tip of the fingers cut out so you could still waterbend and feel connected to the fluids as you trained. Azriel knew how much you hated the cold, evident from your adorably grumpy face and shivering body every morning when Cassian would drag you out to the roof. He wanted to wrap you in his arms and keep you warm, but for now, the gloves would do. Wrapping the gift carefully, he left it at the bottom of the stack of presents so it would be the last one you opened.
The guilt ate Azriel alive as he watched you try and fail to become friends with Elain. His heart sank as he watched her disregard your gift, throwing it towards her pile as if it were trash. It was his fault this was happening, and you were suffering the consequences. That was when he decided things had to change. He couldn’t stand the disappointment on your face.
He figured you would get everyone a gift since it was your first Solstice with the Inner Circle, but was still giddy with joy as he opened yours in the comfort and privacy of his room. It took him less than a few seconds to pick your gift out from the rest, his shadows circling it incessantly until he found it. He unwrapped the small package quickly, hating the contrast of his marred hands against your perfect wrapping. Finding the perfect place on his desk to set the mug, right within his view, it would be the first thing he saw when he woke up and the last before going to sleep.
Sleep that escaped him so often these days, just like tonight.
It was Solstice, and he wouldn’t let another day go to waste. He needed to make things right.
Gods damn it, Mor, Azriel thought to himself while getting dressed for Rita’s. He wanted a moment alone with you so he could explain everything: that he didn’t care about Elain and knew how bad it looked, how he had been wanting to explain himself, to now give you the chance to get to know him and who he is behind the mask of the Night Court’s Spymaster.
But of course, Mor suggested Rita’s, and it was Feyre’s birthday. He had to go.
He tried his best to impress you, donning an all-black ensemble, cut perfectly to fit the strong, hard planes of his body and showcase the Illyrian tattoos swirling over his muscled chest. But then you emerged from Mor’s room, and he felt like absolutely nothing compared to you. You took his breath away, looking like a dream in the flowy blue dress, matching the color of his siphons. It took every ounce of Azriel’s control to refrain from tackling Cassian to the ground when he saw his brother twirling you around, your laughter like a salve that healed every wound in his heart.
But the night only plummeted downhill from there.
“Hi, Az,” Elain started sweetly with a wide grin, looping her arm through Azriel’s. “Ready for a fun night?” she asked, batting her lashes as she looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, and Azriel knew without her asking that he would have to be the one to fly her in. Like always. With a deep sigh, he nodded and scooped her up, Elain’s fingers playing with the silky strands at the base of his neck.
Get your hands out of my hair, he wanted to spit at her.
Rita’s was packed and vibrating with loud music, and Azriel wanted nothing more than to snatch you from the crowd and take you home. He couldn’t help the lump in the back of his throat that formed at Mor’s toast, raising his glass ever-so-slightly higher at your name. Even though it hadn’t been long since you entered his life, Azriel’s chest swelled with pride at your progress as a healer and waterbender. You overcame so much in your short time at the House, tackling your weaknesses one by one. He hoped you could feel the genuine love and adoration in Mor’s words; they were reflective of how everyone felt about you, not just him.
Azriel wasn’t one for dancing, so he returned to the table where he knew Elain would be waiting for him, legs crossed and leaning back in the booth, giving the seat next to hers a pat, an invitation for him to join her. Thank Gods Gwyn was there this time, too. The perfect buffer. And he knew by the look on Elain’s face she wasn’t pleased about it.
Azriel tried his best not to stare as he watched you mingle and drink and dance, tried not to let his wrath unleash as he saw his friends take turns with you: Mor, Nesta, Cassian.
But then he saw the way you looked at Lucien.
Saw Lucien make his way through the crowd towards you, drinking from your glass before you grabbed him by the collar and whispered in his ear.
No fucking way.
There was no way that you were interested in that egotistical snarky fox boy. Azriel loathed the entirety of the Autumn Court, including Lucien. He didn’t care if he was Helion’s son, and especially didn’t care now that Lucien had a hand around your waist. Even Elain went rigid next to him, a low growl escaping her lips that Azriel barely registered as—
Right then—it hit him.
Azriel couldn’t breathe. The pounding of his heart rang in his ears.
No no no no no
His mouth remained slightly parted as he stared you down, the entire world melting away into a blur of darkness, as he watched a tiny gold thread unravel itself, straight from his chest to yours. You danced and danced, twirling and spinning with your eyes closed, smiling wide, singing along to the music, your hair billowing around you as if you were underwater, skin glowing with the light of a million stars. Azriel had never seen a more beautiful sight. Tears lined his eyes, and he didn’t even realize he had gotten out of his seat, hand almost stretched out as if he could touch you from where he stood.
And then the world came back into focus, and all he could see was Nesta’s hands on you, Lucien’s hands on you, everyone’s fucking hands on you.
He was going to throw up.
Anger roiled through every single vein and he couldn’t get enough air in his lungs. Azriel saw red as his shadows began swarming around his neck in a frenzy. Mate mate mate they chanted, over and over, louder and louder. His lip curled back in disgust, baring his teeth with a low, feral snarl.
Elain said with a cool, delicate hand on his forearm, feigning innocence as if she wasn’t aware of what was happening, “Az, is everything okay? You seem tense.”
Azriel whipped his head towards her, anger and rage sparking in a frenzy in those deep hazel eyes. Elain’s eyes widened as she recoiled from his arm. Gone was the cool calm mask of the Spymaster. Cassian, sauntering over to the table with a round of shots, grabbed Azriel by the shoulder, ready to drink with his brother when he saw the look on his face and nearly dropped the glasses in his hand.
“Az, what’s wrong?”
Azriel ripped Cassian’s hand off of him. “She’s my mate, and Lucien’s got his filthy fucking hands all over her,” he seethed. Wrath and grief rolled off of him in near-palpable waves, and his serpentine shadows wreathed around his neck, ready to strike and attack: the portrait of a Prince of Darkness.
Snapped out of his drunken stupor, Cassian gaped at his brother, then at you, then back at his brother. Before he could think, Azriel’s feet were already carrying him to you. He couldn’t help it, he had to rip Lucien off of you. But when he saw the way you rolled your eyes at him as if he wasn’t even worth the dirt under your feet, as if he was nothing, his heart cracked in two. That golden thread shone brighter than ever, but… With the way you ignored him and kept dancing with Lucien, he knew that you didn’t know. The bond hadn’t clicked in for you yet. Cassian made his way through the crowd, making sure to avoid any hassle with Lucien, and winnowed you home. Azriel took to the skies to release his anger.
Mate. He had a mate. He had never even dared to dream of this day, the day he would meet his match, his equal, his Cauldron-blessed mate. All for it to end up like this. Had Cassian not intervened, you would’ve gone home with Lucien. Let him ravish and worship your body in the way that Azriel had been dreaming of since the moment he laid eyes on you. The thought made him blind with rage.
He landed on the balcony of the House with a loud thud, pacing back and forth to cool off. He had to check, had to make sure Lucien didn’t somehow slither his way into the House. He knew it was impossible, but… still.
He first sent his shadows toward your room to confirm. Safe safe safe, they whispered menacingly in his ear. Cracking open the bedroom door, he peered in and dropped his head in relief. You were alone, sprawled out on your bed, snoring softly. Azriel couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face, the first one all night. With a deep sigh, he walked silently over to you, covering you with a blanket. Az allowed himself to drink in the sight of you, sleeping peacefully and deeply, before winnowing into his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, head dangling in defeat. He had a plan, he was going to tell you everything tonight. But he ruined it. All because he couldn’t put his foot down with himself, with Rhys, with Elain. His shadows swirled frantically around his ankles, wrists, and neck, begging him to go be with you. Az didn’t have the energy to contain them anymore and let them find their way to you.
He hadn’t even realized how late it was, the low light of the early morning now peaking through his bedroom curtains. Fuck. It was already time for training. He took a quick bath, scrubbing himself in the scalding hot water to get rid of any trace of his shitty night. The tugging of the bond was intolerable. Please, it begged, please tell her. All he wanted was to grab your sleeping body and carry you into his bed, the safety of his arms where he knew no one would be able to touch you. How did Rhys last so long with Feyre in the Spring Court? he thought, unable to stand another second of you not being his.
The chill winter morning air bit at his skin while he waited for Cassian and Nesta to join him on the roof. But to Azriel’s surprise, Rhys and Feyre showed up before anyone else.
“Az, is everything alright?” Despite perfecting his unreadable Spymaster mask, Feyre had gotten to know the small changes in Azriel’s demeanor over the years and could tell when something was bothering him.
“She’s my mate,” he whispered with a tired, distant look, one arm crossed over his chest, the other mindlessly tugging at his black stud earring. Rhys and Feyre didn’t need further details. They shared a panicked look, and Rhys quickly said, “Maybe it’s best if you sit out this training, then.” But before Az could answer, a bright flash of sunlight lit up the roof as Helion and Lucien appeared in the training ring. The High Lord of the Day Court sat atop a beautiful pegasus, its silky golden coat, mimicking the crown resting on Helion’s head, glowing in the morning sun.
No fucking way. Not again.
Az threw Rhys an incredulous look, one mixed with rage. Truth Teller was in his hand in an instant, angled with lethality, and in response, Helion let out a deep, seductive laugh. “Now, now, my beautiful wicked Shadowsinger. We come in peace. Our dearest Lord of Night has asked Lucien to help train Y/N with her waterbending. He is her opposite and will use his fire so she can begin her combative training against other skills. Unless, of course, you want to play with her and your shadows, a sight I would pay good money to delight in,” Helion said with a dazzling grin. Azriel’s lip curled back as he glared at Lucien, who simply held up his hands with a smirk. He would rip that smile right off his stupid fucking mouth.
“Rhys, you have to be fucking kidding me. Find someone else, anyone else except this asshole,” he seethed with stone-cold fury. Rhys pulled him aside, away from the group, as Cassian, Nesta, and Elain made their way outside.
“Please, Az. I’m sorry, I didn’t know, but Lucien and Helion are here now and graciously accepted my request to train with her. It’s going to be fine, I told Lucien to take it easy. Trust me, I know how it feels. But after training today, you can be honest with her. I won’t force you to keep worrying about Elain’s feelings. Feyre and I will deal with that. It’s time she gives her own mate a chance, anway” he said, glancing sidelong at Lucien. “We will convince her today to go spend some time in the Day Court.” Rhys offered a sympathetic look, which did nothing to calm the icy rage that exploded repeatedly in Azriel’s chest. He didn’t say another word as you finally stalked over to the edge of the ring, eyes wide.​
taglist: @cute-baby-ducks @brekkershadowsinger @iangelofmusic @j-pendragonx @foggypeanutmongeroaf @nxrvto @luckypersonmentality @eddiesbixch696 @davinaclaire16 @lexie1o9 @thewarriormoon @halfmeltedcandles @cartoonnerdgirl @wrensical003 @sparksandthorns @abigailrose98 @mrs-azriel @cafe-inaaa @sparklymiraclecheesecake @moonlightazriel @caosfanblr
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sydneymack · 11 months
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Main Characters of A Court of Thorns and Roses
Artist: @ivy_gwendolline
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pdulcis · 9 months
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Just Amren taking a break from translating the Book of Breathings, but lost in her own thoughts nonetheless.
A fanart from A Court of Thorns and Roses Series. Character belongs to Sarah J. Maas.
Socials  |  Prints
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moondsraws · 1 month
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Feyre, Morrigan and Amren
— A court of Thorns and roses
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aelsie · 5 months
Nyx with his aunts and uncles 🥹
Trying to do push-ups with Uncle Cass, with his chubby little baby arms but just flops on his baby belly. Then he gets distracted, climbs on Uncle Cass’ back and yells go horse-y! Uncle Cass obliges of course.
Going on surveillance with Uncle Az and blowing his cover when he just waddles out or jumps out because some animal caught his attention. Uncle Az’s shadows are on Nyx’s side. Uncle Az shrugs and decides this is still better than chaperoning Nesta and Cassian.
Auntie Mor day drinking and Nyx “accidentally” taking a sip while she’s not looking. He’s hiccuping for the next hour but Auntie Mor shrugs and says eh, cheers little buddy, don’t tell mama and papa.
Auntie Amren glaring down at Nyx, who looks up with big blue purple eyes. She walks away thinking her death glare will get rid of him but Nyx just waddles after her. Auntie Amren starts discussing strategy saying, since no one else in this house has anything useful to teach you anyway.
Trying to take away Auntie Nesta’s book to get her attention but ends up getting curious. Auntie Nesta freaks out, closes it shut and says that’s not for little eyes! She tries to find a kid friendly book and realizes there’s none. Auntie Nesta lowkey spoils him, fyi.
Trying to help Auntie Elain in the garden. She turns around and he’s gone, appears a few minutes later with dirt all over, flowers and grass sticking out of his ears, nose, hair, butt, all over his clothes and definitely chewing on a plant. Auntie Elain rolls around in the grass with Nyx, who’s squealing and giggling into the sky, not a single care in the world.
Babbling on Uncle Lulu’s lap (yes he will call him Uncle Lulu), chewing and pulling his hair, messing up his braids, poking his eye nonstop then yelling fire fire fire! Uncle Lulu asks himself how he went from despising Rhysand to letting his son mess up his immaculate hair, drool on him and doing fire tricks for him but he does it anyway and Nyx is the happiest baby.
I was not a big fan of the whole baby-pregnancy-from-hell plot but you just can’t help but love Nyx (he’s a baby, you guys!), who is definitely his father’s son just from his dramatic entrance 💕✨🌙👑🦇
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pembroke · 8 months
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for fun, i started doing character designs from sarah maas’s a court of thorns and roses series. i love doing book character designs and the descriptions in this series inspired me! i’m working on the other different high lords and their entourages now as well
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azrielsbitxh · 2 months
So I was chilling with my friend and I suddenly had this small scene play in my head...
Cassian: *goes to slap Rhys*
Rhys: *ducks*
Cassian: *hand ends up hitting Az's face*
Az: Dude what the ACTUAL FUCK
Az: *tries to slap cassian*
Cassian: *ducks*
Az: *hits Rhys*
*Cass, Az and Rhys end up having a cat fight*
I think I'm on to smth...
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ellievickstar · 3 months
Another Kind of Love
Summary: With Azriel’s terrible track record with females of course another one would not be any different….right?
Ship: Azriel x Reader, Cassian x sister!reader
Genre: angst ends in fluff
Warnings: Insecurities, over bearing males, self-hate, comparing self with others
Inspiration: I thought about making this inspired by the song “Heart breaker” but decided against it and now this.
A/N: @cityofidek I hope you like it and to everyone else who does not understand a word of the story. I didn’t proof read it I actually don’t proof read any of my work so good luck I know when it’s POVs it is technically 3rd person but bear with me.
Cassian’s POV:
Cassian had to watch it all. From Gwyn to Mor to one of the Archeron sisters. His brother certainly could not choose. He was frustrated with his brother because he knew that Azriel more then anyone deserved to be happy. Cassian himself had Nesta, Rhysand had Feyre, Amren had Varian and Elain had opted for Lucien in the end.
Cassian sighed before pinching his nose when suddenly a letter appeared in front of him. It was from his sister:
Dear Cass,
I know it has been a while since the war. The female legions are going home for the Winter Solstice and to spend time with their families before coming back in two weeks. I’m going over to the townhouse right now as I send this. Don’t worry big brother, I’ve already sent a letter to Rhys and please tell Az that I said hello! If you can even find him before I arrive.
Your still very lovable sister, Y/N
Cassian snorted at ‘lovable’. Annoying was a better word to describe the little scoundrel, but she and the rest of his brothers got along like family. Cassian had been given the young girl when she was a babe. All he was told was that she was his sister and that his mother wished for him to have her before the other Illyrians had killed her. One of her friends ran away with the baby to bring it to Cassian.
That was the same day he had gone berserk on the males who harmed his mother. But when he returned at the end of the day, he had held his sister in his arms, looked into those warm hazel eyes and he had known inside that he wanted to take care of her. Since then he taught her everything, how to fly, walk, handle her Illyrian power, even stick up to Devlon. She had delighted in the fact that she needed more siphons then him and Azriel, and he had pretended to be envious of the little girl, but inside all he really felt was sheer pride for the girl. Rhysand had also helped with her powers, she had been gifted similar powers to him so he spent his time training her, even though him and Rhysand was often at each other’s throats.
Then there was the blood week in the mountain….
He shuddered at the memory. She had succeeded, but she had been alone. Not like him, Az and Rhys. No she had gone up that damned mountain and had touched that stone alone. The will of a warrior, but the weeks he spent next to her, tending to her wounds that were so deep you could see bone…he did not want to think of it.
His sister was now a commander of her own legion, full of females. They were treated like males, fairly. They bonded well, the whole camp was sisters, in their own way. He smiled at the thought. His sister was able to build a whole camp to house many females. Not all, but it made an impact and to a lot of people that was enough. Not to her though, she always strived for more.
It wasn’t long before she came knocking on the townhouse’s door, Rhysand practically flung it open with a wild grin. She laughed as he enveloped her in the tightest hug before Cassian interrupted.
“You know she is supposed to be my sister,” He folded his arms as he leaned against the wall closest to them. She chuckled as he wrapped her arms around him, “To think you said you hated me,” “You drank the last bit of the wine I brought out!” She just burst into laughter again and slapped his forearm before hugging him, again.
Just then Azriel swept into the room, smiling for once as he took in the sight of her. “Where is my hug?” He teased as he opened his arms for her. They also got along, even when the three of them were adults and she was just a child there was always a click between the shadow singer and his sister.
That is ridiculous. Cassian thought to himself. Yes there is only a fifty year difference between them, but Azriel would never date my sister. However, as he watched his sister laugh with Az, he was not too sure about that. And the way Azriel looked at her…
No, Az could not like his sister, he would never allow that. Not when Azriel pines over someone new every other few decades. He looked over at his sister again, together with his almost-brother. They could not ever think to date each other, right?
Oh they absolutely could. Rhys’s voice echoed in his mind and he instantly glanced at the High Lord. Rhys just shrugged and continued to look at the pair that was still embracing each other, still. Annoyed, Cassian stepped in.
“Okay break it up, we get it,” He made his annoyance evident in his voice as he pulled them apart. “Don’t need to be jealous brother,” Y/N teased but that ticked him off more then she knew so he just glared at her. A general ordering his commander. Little did he think that he would find that the commander would fight right back. She glared at him, a challenge. She would tolerate his overprotectiveness especially after the wars but this, with her best friends, she would not stand for it.
Just as a brawl was about to start, the females of the inner circle came back from their little shopping trip for the winter solstice. Mor paused at the door before running to Y/N, the tears evident in her eyes. “I haven’t seen you since the war against Hybern!” Mor laughed as they hugged and cried. Feyre just stepped into the house, slightly confused, Nesta did not say anything and Amren just smirked at the woman slightly. That was when Cassian realised that the Acheron sisters had never really met his sister.
“Ladies, this is Y/N, my sister by blood,” Cassian stumbled over words as he glanced at Nesta, whose shoulders suddenly seemed to droop with relief, she smiled warmly at Y/N. Feyre’s eyes seemed to gleam before asking, “Older or younger?” Oh no. “I’m younger then Cassian by half a century,” Y/N’s smile was like a Cheshire Cat. “So you are familiar with annoying these brutes?” Feyre pushed further, her smile widening. Y/N looked just about ready to plot Cassian’s demise and he knew it, he gulped and so did Azriel and Rhysand. They were no stranger to her antics.
At least their getting along? Azriel spoke to them mind to mind. Rhysand rolled his eyes. Please they would get along regardless the only thing that would deter them would be if she ever caused us immense trauma.
Cassian furrowed his eyebrows before asking. Is causing us pain as children from all her mischief not trauma already? Azriel almost burst out laughing and Rhys’s shoulders shook with the effort. Feyre, being able to hear the whole conversation with her power shot them looks that might have killed them if she really tried.
Before long Y/N was tired and she needed to unpack her bags in the room that was usually for her when she came over. Which was not as often as before since she was busy after the war. Unfortunately, now she would be coming over a lot more since she promised Mor, despite the three Illyrian males’s protests.
Nuala and Cerridwen also had to interrupt the reunion because supper was almost done. So with the snap of her fingers Y/N’s bags was in her room and she was in her hoodie and pants. Contrasting to some people’s expensive taste in clothes, Y/N preferred hoodies, shirts, pull overs, jumpers and pants. There were times she wore skirts but only if she felt like it. Cauldron knows what happened the last time someone tried to force her into wearing something she did not want to wear.
Cassian huffed a laugh at the thought and followed the rest of the inner circle, and his mate, to supper.
Supper was as good as I remember especially with Nuala and Cerridwen cooking. The two wraiths had always been friends with me since I met them when Rhys first brought me to Velaris. They were also my favourite people to cook with, Mother knows the males cannot cook a meal to save their lives. No, they could only cook meat on a stick, over a fire. I had yet to thank Nuala and Cerridwen for keeping them alive.
Feyre and Nesta were absolute delights to be around, though Nesta was slightly protective of her mate. Understandably so but to think that I would ever date my brother of flesh and blood. Naseau rolled in my gut. Please, I would not even last a day, I would kick him out of the house.
Amren was as per usual, although she was Fae now, she still had that uncanny aura that made her terrifying, but of course I missed her. Cassian and Rhys were just as annoying as the last time they visited my camp but they have been for the past five centuries. I think I would be more afraid if they stopped bothering me all the time. Even when I was busy after the war and the cauldron, they still came by occasionally to make me go insane. And Azriel…
I looked at the shadow singer beside me and he flashed me a small smile before going back to eating, it made my heart flutter slightly, I chided myself. Azriel has liked so many other females, what makes you think he would like you? Might as well stop while you are ahead. Besides, your brother would kill you. Speaking of my brother, Cassian was wolfing down his food, lifting his head once in a while only to pick out bones from his meat just to toss them at me.
I would glare at him but he would ignore me. I knew if I told him to stop he would, but I did not say anything, I didn’t actually mind. Besides the fact that the bits of meat that stuck to the bone got matted in my hair sometimes. Cassian would never mind if I dated anyone, but his best friend and almost brother? Now that was cruel, or so says all my romance novels I enjoyed reading.
I sighed as I pushed around the remaining food on my plate.
“Y/N, are you not going to eat any more food? You barely touched anything,” Feyre asked, concern was evident but I shook my head. I had never eaten a lot as a child until now. It was a bad habit, yes, but it was what I was used to. I used to be insecure and there had been a time the lack of eating had stemmed from a fear of becoming overweight, but it was a really long time ago I figured that I just did not really like to eat.
“No, Feyre it’s fine the food is as good as I remember I just don’t eat a lot. You can ask the three males they have tried to force me to eat but I just don’t like eating in general,” I explained.
“Unless it’s chocolate,” Cassian chipped in.
“Or cookies,” Rhysand muttered.
“Or sandwiches but it has to depend on the day. Peanut butter is a good snack and she likes chocolate syrup the most during the night. However, if you touch the ice cream she most likely stored in the fridge she will and can slit your throat unless you promise to buy her more. Also for chocolate she prefers white because she finds dark way too bitter,” Azriel added. Well, added was an understatement.
I gaped at him. Not even Cassian knew so much about me especially about my snacking preferences. Rhysand looked positively delighted while Cassian was torn between throttling Azriel, being the overprotective brother he is, or laughing at the fact I was so defensive about ice cream. Azriel just continued to eat as if nothing happened. Feyre, Amren and Nesta shared what looked to be a knowing glance and I was confused.
Yes, Azriel knew a lot about me, apparently, but what was the big deal? I knew plenty about Azriel too, like how he preferred dark purple because it reminded him of Rhys especially during Amarantha’s reign. Azriel enjoyed his shadows because they usually whispered to him when he was lonely. There were times they got too overwhelming which were the days he brooded the most.
However, as much as I loved Azriel, secretly, for the past three centuries. He could never reciprocate my feelings, he could have any female in all of Velaris for cauldron’s sake! The thought made me sick, Azriel could never love me. Never.
I stood suddenly. Apologising, saying that I was tired from the journey here, since I could not winnow. And as I walked down the hallway, tears slid down my cheeks. Azriel could never be mine, it echoed in my soul, rung in my head.
“Wait, Y/N!” Azriel called, “You forgot your- are you crying?” And as I looked up at the male. The bond snapped into place and for a second hope flared in my heart but Azriel did not seem fazed at all. Then it hit me.
The bond had only snapped into place for me. Only for me.
Mother was cruel after all. Azriel’s eyes still flooded with that worry and I shook my head. “It’s nothing, I’m fine Az,” I tried so hard for my voice not to crack. Az did not seem convinced but he passed me my bracelet, the one that Cass had given me when I was younger which I had taken off for supper and had left at the table, before he strolled back to the table.
My mate, the bond was there when I reached down. And as I turned to my room and closed the door, I thanked the mother that at least I had one, even if he could never truly be mine.
I changed into my nightgown which was really just an oversized shirt that reached my knees and lay down for a bit, maybe tomorrow would be better.
I blinked against the steady stream of sunlight through the window. It was dawn, which meant that I needed to get up. I stretched my wings. Time to train. Changing into my Illyrian leathers, I tied my hair into braids, grabbed my weapons belt and brought along my favourite daggers.
Cassian was at the dining table eating breakfast with Azriel. I smiled at both of them, my gaze lingering on my mate before I took some chocolate and began to eat.
“That’s it?” Cassian asked. “For the Mother’s sake you’re going to train!” I shot him a look that promised a slow death if he said anything else, but he just shrugged and went back to eating.
It was not long before Cassian and I were sparring, Az long gone to spy on some court for Rhys.
“So,” Cassian started as dodged my attack, feigning right trying to hit my side but I easily avoided him, “Az tells me you were crying last night,” He blocked as I delivered a swift punch, aiming for his face.
“And?” I asked as ducked under his fist just to sweep my feet to cause him to lose balance, he did, just for a second but it counted as I attacked and he fell to the ground. I flexed my body, stretching my wings.
“Mind telling your brother why?” I shook my head as I took out my blade, flipping it in my palm. The blade was one of my favourites i had named it ‘mortifer’ Cassian had laughed at the name since it quite literally meant bringer of death. I sighed as I angled the blade, “It’s just that Az is-,” “For Azriel’s sake he better not have hurt you,” He but in as he sharpened his own sword.
I huffed out a breath, “Azriel is my mate,” I admitted. Cassian stilled. And like the very fiery Piet of a volcano, his eyes turned to molten lava.
Cassian’s POV:
There was a ringing in his head as he turned to his sister. No, no, no. She couldn’t actually be his best friend’s mate. But one look at his sister and he knew that she was not joking.
He was going to kill Azriel. Inside he knew that Azriel deserved happiness but his sister? That was a line, and they were toeing it. Unable to control his anger he flew back to the town house in a fit of rage as he called for Rhysand mind to mind, leaving his sister calling to him to get his ass back to the training ring. He was not thinking straight, he knew that but he didn’t care much.
DID YOU KNOW!? He yelled at Rhys through the mental link in their heads as he tried to search for the High Lord.
Did I know what? Rhysand asked disquiet was crystal clear in his voice.
My sister and our dear fried Azriel, who is going to die, are mates! Mates! He gritted his teeth as he flung open the final door in the town house where Rhys could have been but nothing. Rhysand seemed to be laughing and Cassian almost snarled, almost.
I’m happy for them but have you considered that Azriel doesn’t know? Rhys question flipped a switch in Cassian and he realised that he had left his sister alone, she was probably scared. He knew she could hold her own but he needed to go back, to help her. And maybe, just maybe, get answers.
Cassian had left in a fit of rage, probably to go throw a tantrum but I prayed to the cauldron he wouldn’t tell Azriel anything. The beat of wings could suddenly be heard from a distance and as my eyes looked to the sky, I huffed a sigh of relief as my brother came into view, landing in front of me. His face like the harsh night sky in the mountains.
“Does he know?” He asked smoothly, arms crossed. I shook my head so he continued his questioning, “Are you going to tell him?” I shook my head again.
The question made me freeze because it did not come from Cassian, that voice had come from the shadow singer who know stood behind me. Cassian growled at Azriel and Az, for all intents and purposes, seemed all to read to snap back at him. Mother, give me patience or a dagger for these two.
“Cassian go home,” I ordered, the command in my voice was like steel, but I was quaking on the inside. Cassian was about to contradict me but something flickered in his eyes, my happiness, Azriel’s happiness, or his own need to protect his sister. There was a choice there and I waited in trepidation as Cassian looked torn between the two options.
Fortunately, he paced back a few. Steps before shooting into the sky. I sighed, taking down a mental note to thank him later. Azriel coughed from behind me and as I whirled to face the shadows singer, he looked sorrowful, disappointed.
“Is having me as a mate that bad?” His voice was quiet, so quiet. “No, it’s just-,” I looked at him again before gesturing to the whole of Velaris, “You could have anyone in the whole city, any female. How could I compete with that?” My tone grew heavier with every word. That was when I was swept off my feet, my wings draped heavily as Az carried me to the town house and brought me straight to his room.
“You are my mate,” He deadpanned as he hugged me the second he set me down, “You are more beautiful then any female in Velaris. Mins,” He was muffle as his face was buried in my hair. I giggled at the war sensation of his breath that skittered down my scalp to my neck.
“In tha case,” I started, reaching down to my pocket to pull out an almost melted chocolate bar, “Eat it,” I offered. And he did.
A/N: Imma let your imagination flow for this one. This got long so it took so long to write, I’ve been writing this since Thursday and for me it’s Saturday in the morning. Anyways, I hope you guys like this one cause I did <3
tag list: @moonfawnx @bankerfrog @younxii @starlit-terror @hideing @flightlesslittlebirdie @menagerofmischief @famousbasementpainter @owllover123 @bookworm-nerd6 @gigisssz @bethany-bee0128 @cityofidek
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 1 month
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✹ (indicates smut)
Coming Home (Series):
Summary: You’re Rhysand’s younger sister and the person who’s been in love with Azriel for, like, ever. After an entire century running away from your feelings for the Shadowsinger, and the sting of his rejection, you decide to finally return home to Velaris for Winter Solstice. You’re older, more mature — and still totally enamoured by him. Chaos is bound to ensue…
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six ✹
Part Seven
Part Eight
Part Nine
Part Ten
Part Eleven
Part Twelve
Part Thirteen
Part Fourteen ✹
Part Fifteen
Part Sixteen
Part Seventeen ✹
Bonus Chapter 1 - Starfall
Bonus Chapter 2 - Lucien's Cottage ✹
Lucien Vanserra:
Fireleaf (Series):
Summary: An enemies-to-lovers series. You’re the second-eldest daughter of a wealthy, noble Autumn Court family, and when your father strikes an agreement with Beron Vanserra, you find yourself arranged to marry the second-eldest Vanserra brother. But it’s the youngest Vanserra, Lucien, who really catches your eye.
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six ✹
One Shots & Requests:
Pushing Buttons - Azriel x Reader (request) ✹
Just You and Me - Lucien x Reader (request) ✹
Heart of Fire - Azriel x Reader (request)
Crawling Back to You ~ Part Two - Part Three - Cassian x Reader ✹
With Me, Always. - Rhysand x Reader Oneshot
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nikethestatue · 5 months
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oliviajdjarin · 2 months
Azriel Shadowsinger: Not Tonight
Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader (she/her)
Excerpt: “‘I don’t want you in control. Not tonight. Tonight…’
Your eyes remained locked on his as you sank to your knees. Your dress pooling around your legs.
‘…I want to be.’”
Warnings: MAJOR sub!azriel, I mean major major sub!azriel, smut, sucking dick, face riding, the girl is wearing a corset top, an almost panic attack, the inner circle is here for like two seconds, Feyre says fancy mythology things (probably incorrect), I think that’s it.
A/N: Thank you @cityofidek for requesting my favorite thing to write in the entire fucking world. This is pretty dirty, so I apologize if that wasn’t the intention haha. @leahkenobi just pretend you don’t know me. Thank you to anyone who reads my work. You guys mean the world :)
If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3
Azriel Masterlist
(pic from Pinterest)
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You followed him into the House of Wind, watching the muscles underneath the cloth of his shirt flex from the strain of his wings. He had a way of walking that was not cocky, but not modest either. You grinned, hearing Emerie’s voice in your head, and feeling the ache already pulsing in your core.
It only got worse when dinner began.
You sat across from him—close enough to touch the tips of his kneecaps with your own—giving you the view you had been waiting for since the day he left.
Broad shoulders, messy hair, tan skin, perfect teeth, hazel eyes, a dusting of freckles, and wings over half the length of Rhysand’s dining table.
You hadn’t seen him for weeks—weeks—and the first night he comes back is the monthly court dinner.
Of course.
You could have sworn the violet in Rhysand’s eyes twinkled with knowing when he reminded you of this, and your nails dug into your palms in hope that you wouldn’t show the weakness he was looking for.
“What?” you asked him, folding your arms defensively. “Is there a problem with that?”
“Not with me,” he replied, grinning like a cheshire. “I can guarantee it is for some else though.”
Rhysand was right. The normally-masked heat of arousal and frustration radiating off of Azriel was apparent to everyone in the room, and the mix of the view of his chest and the feeling of his leg had your own scent nearly overwhelming his.
You locked eyes with him, and visions of what he imagined doing to you coated their burned-hazel tone as bolts of arousal were sent through your bond
The table flipped, your dress ripped to shreds, your back turned to him, and his pace so deliciously slow inside of you that your whines coated the screams in his head. His hands clutched around your breasts, fitting every inch in his palms easily, and his hot breath against your ear, whispering how much he fucking missed you and needed you—
“Let’s eat,” Rhysand said, clearing his throat awkwardly. You jolted in your seat, blinking rapidly.
Azriel’s gaze never left yours. All he did was smirk.
You would thank the gods every day for Cassian, because if he hadn’t been distracting Azriel every two seconds with a question about Briallyn’s whereabouts, your self-control would have shattered.
His glances. His presence. His cologne. His mouth. His tongue. His throat. His hands as he sipped his wine.
All of them affected you. All of them.
And you knew, from both the look in his eye and the weeks of being apart, that he expected nothing less.
And he was so fucking smug about it.
You ground your teeth, breathing heavily, practically fuming, as conversations continued on around you. Cursing yourself for the way he was playing you, and winning.
Your dress was too tight, his gaze was too hot, and the voices around you were beginning to choke you from the inside out. So much so that Feyre’s call of your name completely passed over you.
“Y/N,” she called again, stern enough to make you jump. Your fork dropped from your hand, clattering against your golden plate. You faced her quickly and placed your hands in your lap.
She could sound like a High Lady when she wanted to. You tended to forget that.
“I am sorry Feyre,” you said, shaking your head. You tried to swallow down your daze. “Do you need something?”
She smiled, sweetly, but there was something beneath her gaze. Your heart pounded that much quicker.
“Yes,” she said, still sustaining her grin. “I was wondering if you knew of the goddess Nemesis?”
The sounds of eating, chewing, and talking, went suddenly silent.
This proved to you that her question had nothing to do with what she was previously talking about. Luckily, it seemed that Rhysand was just as confused as you were. Your throat tightened, so much so it became hard to swallow.
Feyre was your friend, and you could see in her eye that she had some sort of agenda behind the question, so you tried your best to play along with whatever she was getting at.
“Ye-yes, yes I know of her,” you said, finding your voice. “The goddess of retribution.”
“Yes,” Feyre replied. “And the daughter of Nyx.”
You nodded. She smiled wider, and the reflection of the setting sun in her pale-blue eyes reminded you how much of a goddess she was herself.
“Are you familiar with her involvement with the hunter Narcissus?” she asked, and sipped her wine. You didn’t know how it was possible for someone to drink and grin at the same time.
“Yes, I am,” you began. “Narcissus was an extremely young man whose beauty attracted the interest of a nymph called Echo. When she revealed her love, Narcissus rejected her and asked her to leave him alone. Heartbroken, Echo left and began roaming alone.”
Feyre nodded, urging you to go on, at the same time that Az pressed his leg against the softness of your own. Your eyes glanced towards his, and his dark eyes were illuminated by an afterglow of interest.
So, you continued.
“The sad ending of Echo enraged the goddess of revenge, Nemesis, who decided to punish Narcissus. One day, Nemesis lured the young man to drink water from a pool with calm mirror-like water. Narcissus saw his reflection on the water and fell in love with it.”
Feyre hummed, satisfied.
“And Narcissus died shortly after,” she said. “I have always loved that story.”
“Loved?” Cassian questioned, raising his eyebrows. “What part of a story of vengeance is to be loved?”
“It is not just a story of vengeance,” Feyre countered. “Narcissius rejected all romantic advances and was only able to fall in love with his reflection, making him exactly what his name describes: a narcissist.”
You brought your eyebrows together in thought.
Your mind was close to her own. You could feel it.
“He would only ever be satisfied with himself, and the women attracted to him were nothing to him,” she said, huffing a laugh.
Her eyes locked with yours.
“In my opinion,” she said, picking up her wine once more, “Nemesis merely put him in his place.”
It was then that the shades of blue in her eyes, her feline smile, and the point of her story sprinkled over you like a cold rain.
Put him in his place. Don’t let him win.
As the realization rose, your confidence rose with it. Your back straightened, your body loosened, and your lungs filled with much needed breath.
“Agreed,” you said, and your smile matched her own.
She nodded, winking at you, and went back to her previous conversation.
You took your cold glass of water and brought it to your lips, enjoying how its frigidness coated your throat. It cooled from the inside out—centering you. Your hands had stopped their shaking.
As you sipped you looked up at Azriel, whose face was still painted with arrogance and cocksure.
This time, however, you met it with your own, and you could have sworn Azriel sank lower in his seat.
Azriel had no idea what the Hel Feyre had just said, but whatever it was clearly affected you. It was like you had shed a skin, awakening a part of yourself that was growing larger and larger by the second.
He didn’t know if he had ever been so desperate for you in his life, and he didn’t care that his entire family knew it.
He wanted you under him—begging, pleading, crying for more—but something about the way you were looking at him made him think you didn’t want that. You wanted something else—something that you would be willing to take.
It was his turn for sweaty hands and a rabid heart.
The two of you managed to keep normal conversations going throughout the dinner, keeping your looks to primarily glances and bumping into each other’s legs, but your scent continued to fill him up. As soon as he’d get caught up in a conversation, his mind on the cusp of forgetting your shared state, you’d fill him up again, and his blood would boil under his skin.
He didn’t know if The Town House would still be standing after the two of you were done.
A small grin etched along your perfect face when he sent the image down the bond.
“Dessert?” Rhysand offered, with a tone suggesting he already knew Azriel’s answer.
Az took in a breath, ready to respond for the both of you, but you beat him to it.
“No thank you,” you said, and stood. Your wooden chair screeched against the hard flood. “We’ll be leaving now. Thank you for everything. Both of you.”
You thanked both Rhys and Feyre with your eyes, but Az noticed you looking at Feyre for a few seconds longer, and he had never wished for the gift of a daemati more than then.
You said your goodbyes to everyone as Azriel stood from the table, and without even a glance his way, you departed from the dining room into the brisk air of the night. Obviously expecting him to follow.
He huffed a laugh before saying, “it was nice to see you all.”
“It was nice to see you too, brother,” Cassian said.
If there was one thing Cassian was bad at, it was hiding his emotions. The broad smile plastered across his face proved that enough.
“I have a feeling we won’t be seeing you for some time?”
His mate next to him let out a rare chuckle, as did the rest of the table.
Azriel just breathed. Taking all of it. “Enjoy your dessert.”
He then walked from the table, buttoning up his coat as he walked. His speed increased after each step, and he pulled open the hazelnut-stained door without hesitation.
Without a question, he enveloped you in his darkness, gripping your sides and holding you close.
“You too!” he heard Amren exclaim as you were both lifted from the grass.
His mouth met your own before his feet touched the floor.
He tasted of fresh tomatoes and burnt bread, as well as savory wine. His tongue wasted no time in dominating your own as he pushed you back towards the wall.
“Azriel,” you whispered, managing to pull him away from you, and he brought his teeth to your neck.
“Y/N,” he replied, still nipping. His hot breaths shot chills down your body like lightning, and his hands began to drift from your sides to the center of your skirt. Your back was inches from the wall, and every bone in your body was aching to just let him do it. Let him have you. Let him take you.
Not tonight.
Your mind desired otherwise.
You planted your feet, digging your heels into the carpeting of his bedroom floor, effectively stopping him in his tracks.
His body froze, and he pulled away. Completely taking his hands off you. The look on his face was priceless.
“Did I…” he said. Backing away. His swollen lips and flaring wings threatened to undo you. “Did I do too much? I am sorry—
You smiled. “Azriel.”
Your breathless tone sent the tent in his pants higher.
“I want you,” you whispered, and brought your hands to his chest. “I want you right here…”
You pushed him forward. Slowly. His eyes widened in realization as you walked.
“…right now” you finished, and his back hit the closed door with a thud. “I don’t want you in control. Not tonight. Tonight…”
Your eyes remained locked on his as you sank to your knees. Your dress pooling around your legs.
“…I want to be.”
And in that moment, Azriel’s typically dark, dominating eyes—forced to make tough calls, inflict pain, and risk his life for the ones he loves—submitted to the gold of their hazel coloring. They were lighter than you had ever seen them before, and his jaw went slack at the sight of you beneath him.
“Is that okay?” you asked huskily, tilting your head to the side with a smirk.
Azriel blinked. Then blinked again. He swallowed roughly, loud enough for you to hear, before sending down the largest wave of arousal down the bond that you had ever felt.
You whined at the feeling—arching against the floor for any sort of relief—before he nodded.
“Yes,” he said, and you smiled. Sweat was already beginning to culminate on his forehead.
“Good,” you said, looking up at him with darkened eyes. “Now take your clothes off.”
Azriel did not need to be told twice. He had his upper-half stripped before you could even blink, throwing the pieces somewhere behind you, before reaching for his belt.
His hands were shaking so harshly he could not grasp the buckle, and you chuckled beneath him.
“I’ve got you,” you whispered, and any thoughts in his brain besides how you looked and sounded evaporated from his brain.
You brought your steady hands to his buckle and slipped it through the leather, letting his pants fall to the floor. His hands fell to his side—unsure of what to do. Unsure if he would last longer than a few seconds with you. Not like this.
“Can I take these off?” you asked, reaching your nail under his waistband.
“Please,” he heard himself say.
You smiled. “Good.”
You dragged down his underwear to his ankles, springing his dick to his stomach. His face flushed.
You dragged a finger down his shaft, so slowly it almost pained him, and he whined.
“May I?” you asked, still tracing him with the pad of your pointer finger.
He nodded, face contorting in desperation. Beads of sweat were culminating down his hairline and beginning to drip down his face.
“Say it.”
“Yes Y/N. Please.”
And then you took the entirety of him in your mouth, and the last shards of Azriel’s self-restraint imploded.
His eyesight was plastered with stars and his knees weakened against your heat. His eyes fluttered shut in bliss, and the noise he let out—
He felt you smile against him and take him deeper, deeper, deeper.
Azriel’s hands remained firmly at his sides until you brought them to your hair, and he brushed his nails against your scalp.
“Feels—so good,” he managed to get out. He had never sounded less like the Spymaster of the Night Court, but he had never cared less. “You’re—you’re perfect.”
You laughed around his length, licking a strip up to his lower stomach.
“Keep talking.”
And he did.
Through pants and groans and whines, Azriel’s tongue became his paint brush, drawing and sketching you into time with his words.
Yours. I’m yours.
By the time he was beginning to fuck into your mouth, he was practically sputtering psalms.
“Gods,” he groaned, holding your head gently as he thrusted into you. “Gods Y/N I can’t—I’ve gotta come. Please.”
You looked up at him, tears in your eyes, and swirled your tongue around him. You cupped his balls, and with one final thrust, he released into you.
In his bliss, he could only think of how lucky he was.
Salt coated his lips when he finally regained consciousness, just as you finished kitten-licking the tiny beads of release that had coated his thighs.
“Did you—swallow? All of it?”
You hummed. “All of it.”
You saw the shock in his eyes. As well as his need to climax you enough times for you to forget your name.
But you were not done yet.
“Easy handsome,” you said, licking your lips and tracing his clenched thighs with your nails. “I know what I want from you.”
His steadied breathing became faster and faster as you spoke, and the look of him; tattoos covered in sweat, wings flared and twitching, throat bobbing, chest heaving.
You couldn’t have gotten luckier. You really couldn’t have.
And you would continue to prove that to him.
You pressed kisses to his still twitching cock as you stood on shaky legs, feeling how utterly drenched you were in your underwear, and Az whined with each peck.
He moved his hands down to your waist, steadying you against him, and you smiled up at him. Pure love in both of your eyes, with Azriel’s gold completely covering his darkness.
You loved him like this the most—blissed out, and happy. Grateful.
“I’m gonna turn you around, okay?”
He nodded. Repeatedly. His eagerness was beginning to poke through.
You laughed. “Okay.”
And you positioned yourself against the door, spinning him to face you.
He immediately reached for the strings of your corset top, still shaking, but you stopped him.
“No,” you said, and brought your hands up his naked arms, tracing every muscle and tattoo as you did.
A flush came to his cheeks again, and his muscles flexed as you glided over them. If you didn’t know him better, you would think it was coincidental.
You reached his shoulders and brushed his curls from his face, before pushing him down.
And down.
And down.
Until one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors to ever exist was on his knees before you, lifting up the skirt of your dress, and kissing up your leg.
“Good,” you whispered. “That’s good. Just like that.”
He exhaled a hot breath against you, sending chills up into your skull, and he rose and rose up to your underwear until his entire head was hidden underneath your skirt.
You arched against him as he pulled your underwear down with his teeth, and you continued your praises.
“Fuck Azriel,” you said. “I can only imagine how pretty you look right now.”
A groan came from under the fabric.
You wished everyone in the Night Court knew how badly the deadly Spymaster enjoyed being called pretty.
“Eat me out now,” you whispered.
And he did.
Fuck did he ever.
He started with strips, teasing you, just as you asked, before delving in completely, so harshly that he began raising you off the floor.
The room was soon filled with your pants and whines, as well as your constant praise and instruction.
Higher baby.
Gods you sound so good.
I missed you so fucking much.
You’re perfect at this. Like you’re made for me.
There—right there.
My perfect mate.
It was when he began torturing you with his mouth and coaxing your clit with his fingers that your climax was on the brink of explosion.
“Almost there—almost there Azriel you’re doing perfectly.”
He groaned in response, and you noticed his empty hand beginning to drift down to his pants. But he hesitated.
“Touch yourself Azriel,” you said huskily, panting. He didn’t hesitate.
With the band in your belly becoming closer and closer to snapping, Azriel between your legs attending to your every beck and call, and the dizzying feeling that was sex with your mate, your mind was drenched in a haze of ecstasy.
“So…so close,” you whispered, continued to arch and lurch and ride into his mouth. “Are you?”
He nodded. Good.
With one last kiss to your clit, your body went under the too-familiar wave. With one last second of consciousness, however, you reached your hand forward and stroked down Azriel’s wing just so.
The both of you erupted together—Azriel’s siphons filled the room with their dark blue, and your soul warmed with it. No other shade of blue would ever be enough for you.
You blinked, finally seeing color instead of a blur of stars, and tears of pleasure were dribbling down your cheeks. The feeling in your legs returned slowly, and you were met with Azriel kissing down them before coming out from beneath the satin fabric.
He remained on his knees, but his face was coated with your pleasure, as well as a smile with enough power to bring you down to your own.
“How’d I do?” he asked. Genuinely.
You ran your hair through his thick, curling hair, and said, “Perfectly.”
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