#azriel and mor
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Solstice Night (Secrets and Lies)
(Alternative Azriel’s POV of last Solstice)
(This is an alternative version of Azriel’s Bonus Chapter, and how it should’ve have been written to make sense. Thanks to @mrspettyferr for inspiring the idea!)
Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house and onto the front lawn to sit in the frigid starlight. To let the frost in his veins match the air around him.
Until he felt nothing. Was again nothing at all.
Then he flew to the House of Wind, knowing that if he slept in the Riverside manor, he’d do something he regretted. He’d been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight...tonight had proved he’d been right to do so.
He aimed for the training pit, giving in to the need to work off the temptation, the rage and frustration and writhing need.
He found it already occupied. His shadows had not warned him.
It was too late to bank without appearing like he was running, Azriel landed in the ring a few feet from where Mor practised in the chill night, her sword glimmering like ice in the moonlight.
She lowered her sword upon seeing him, quickly taking notice of his tenseness, the sense of deep unhappiness that came off of him like a wave of darkness, the set jaw, the balled fists.
“You are up late,” he growled instead of greeting her.
She shrugged and sheathed the sword in the scabbard, saying, “Seems like I am not the only one. I thought you’d be staying at the River Estate overnight?”
“I thought the same of you,” he threw back.
Azriel was usually polite, though he had a dirty mouth and cursed colourfully and frequently, but it wasn’t like him to be short with her.
After half a millennia of knowing him, Mor had learned to navigate his moods quite well. All of their moods, to be exact, because hers was a moody family. Azriel was the hardest one to understand and his inscrutable visage wasn’t exactly easy to crack, but she had some tricks and tips up her sleeve to get him to relax, or, if he couldn’t relax, then at least confide in her in some manner. This male held too many secrets and all his emotions were wrapped up so tightly inside of him, he was virtually impenetrable.
She chose to ignore the sniping comment and sighed, curling her arm over and around his elbow, her high ponytail bouncing behind her, as she tugged him gently along.
“What?” he mumbled. “I am going to bed…”
“We both know you aren’t going to bed,” she waved him off. “So why don’t we have a drink together?”
He grunted something under his breath, and then agreed,
“We can have a drink, but,” he warned her sternly, “don’t pry!”
“Me?” she batted her lashes at him innocently, “when have I ever?!”
“Umm, always. Absolutely always,” he reminded her and she smiled at him, and then placed a loud kiss on his cheek.
He elbowed her lightly and scowled, wiping his cheek on his shoulder, while she laughed softly.
“Stop slobbering!” he ordered.
“I am not slobbering,” she corrected. “I am kissing. Also, you are awfully grumpy for a Solstice night…care to,”
He wrenched the door open for her, letting her inside, as he complained, “See, you are already prying,”
“I am worrying,”
“Same as prying.”
She chuckled and they descended the stairs, with Azriel walking behind her in sullen silence.
Once they were in the dimly lit hallway, Mor took a turn towards the kitchen, and he continued following her.
There was a time when this turn of events would’ve been everything that he’d ever wanted. Dreamed of. Him and Morrigan. Together. Alone. Morrigan inviting him for a drink. The two of them, in this great big palatial house, enjoying the silence and the privacy.
Privacy was always in short supply when their family was around–everyone picking and nagging and laughing and arguing and trying to prove something to one another. Cass trying to one up everyone. Mor drinking too much. Amren pondering and proposing ridiculous ideas, and Rhys getting entirely too excited about them. And that’s when he wasn’t actively trying to pull Feyre into his lap and have her sit just about on his dick in front of everyone. Nesta, if she was even ever present, would imbue the atmosphere with detachment and coldness and give off a generally uncomfortable vibe. And the only oasis of tranquillity and good will would be his girl. Not his. Never to be his either.
Mor shuddered, as if from being cold, and Azriel told the House ‘more fire, please’. She cocked her brow at him, watching as the fire inside the fireplace came to life at his request and then said, as she began to unbutton her tight leather jacket,
“So it listens to you too? Not only Nesta?”
He rubbed his hands together, feeling the effects of the chill which now prickled his skin and opened his hands to the fire. He’d lied to Nesta earlier today–he didn’t give a shit about the fire, and didn’t fear it at all, and neither did his shadows. What he did suffer from was the reek of that weird Elucien bond–that’s how he began calling Lucien and Elain in his head. Elucien somehow made it easier to accept, or at least tolerate. When he dared to think of Elain and Lucien, of them being fucking mates of all things, that’s when he lost it. That’s when he needed to rush and take it to the sky and fly until exhaustion threatened to destroy him. It’s not like he lacked in muscle before, but these frequent spontaneous fly-outs caused him to bulk up even further. When before he relied on shadow-walking and winnowing, now he relied more on flying, and his whole body was covered in an armour-like layer of bulging sinew and muscles. Not that he cared. Not like his girl was ever going to admire his physique, or run her small, soft hands over his body, and not like her full lips would ever lay a kiss upon his skin, and neither would her tongue trace the lines of his tattoos or scars. All this musculature was good for one thing–wiping the floor with Cassian. The happily soon-to-be-mated Cassian (of that, Azriel had no doubt), who was going to become a husband to Nesta, a lord of a manor, and a father of many. As he deserved. As it should be.
“Yes, it listens to me,” he said at last, “if I am polite and ask nicely.”
She laughed softly, the sound of her voice light and sparkling. It used to be that he lived for the sound of that voice, the desire to solicit this type of reaction from her, a living, breathing need inside of him. Used to be that Mor’s attention, even the tiniest crumbs of it, was all that he wanted.
Many centuries ago, when they were young and she first arrived at the camp, visiting Rhys and her aunt, it was as if Azriel was seeing life in colour for the first time in his life. Morrigan was painted in gold and light, her hair falling around her and wrapping her up in a shining mantle. He’d barely even seen women before that–for years he was locked in a cupboard like a wild animal, only seeing his mother for too brief periods here and there. When he was dropped off at Windhaven, the females that he found there were hardened by life and their lot. They toiled away, usually tucked somewhere in the barracks, and busy with hard, menial jobs, as they scrubbed clothes, weaved cloths, cooked, cleaned…Without Fae magic in their bodies, the females did everything by hand, similar to the human women out in the Human Lands, while also carrying the weight of their clipped wings around them. At least they usually didn’t breed as quickly as humans and didn’t look after a whole gaggle of younglings, though that just meant that they were forced to serve the males even more.
Princess Morrigan was not like that. She was delicate: her skin pale and rosy, her hands soft and beautiful, her nails lovely and manicured. She was tall and enticingly voluptuous, her breasts already full and temptingly soft, even though at seventeen, she was still just a girl. And he, at nineteen, was a boy. A youngling himself, who’d never even thought much about women, let alone been alone with them, or touched them. He was busy wrangling with emerging powers, the call of them overwhelming him–for not only was he a Shadowsinger, but he quickly learned that his powers far exceeded even those of the most powerful Illyrians. He matched Cassian’s immense strength, though he was more modest about the displays and therefore, was sometimes underestimated, even by his brothers. However, he was just as strong, more agile, quicker, and perhaps, more brutal too. He could fight with relentless savagery, feeling like he had nothing to lose. He was colder and more calculating too, without Cassian’s bravado, but with the desire to win and bring others to heel. He already had three siphons by then–unheard of for someone his age. Unheard of for someone with his background. Unheard of, in general. Battle scarred warriors were lucky to have had three siphons. His were there just to manage his power–he didn’t even use them when he trained, or sparred. He was capable enough to overpower any opponent, including Rhysand, simply by using his strength and ability.
Princess Morrigan was powerful too. Her beauty was a concealment which hid the vast deposits of her great powers and back in the day, Azriel only dreamed of brushing against the reservoirs of that shimmering light, thinking himself unworthy of being in the company of something so pure and magnificent. But perhaps, that was always the problem–Morrigan was too much. Too beautiful. Too powerful. Too attractive. Too funny. Too seductive. And he wasn’t like her. He wasn’t good for her.
“What are you drinking?” Mor asked, as she began rummaging through bottles at the marble-clad bar. “Shit…” she cried out, “these are either empty or it’s…juice?!”
Azriel sat heavily on the stool by the counter and rubbed the back of his neck. He was tired. Fuck. Was he tired…
“Oh yeah…” he remembered, “no booze here. Because Nesta can’t drink. I forgot. Water. Tea. Or juice. These are your choices.”
Mor pouted, “well, that fucking sucks.”
He wanted to tell her that she was drinking too much and that Dry Winter wouldn’t be a terrible idea for her to entertain, but he held his tongue. Mor knew that she was drinking much too much. In fact, she was a grumbling functioning alcoholic under the cheery, lovely façade and it made Azriel feel sad for her. Mor drank because she was unhappy and lonely, and carried a secret that she did not share with anyone. Much like him. Who would’ve thought that five hundred years later, they would be in the same boat. He certainly had assumed that by now, Mor would’ve been happily wedded and bedded, living side by side with someone she loved, perhaps a mother, formidable in her power and influence. Not Rhys’s Third, with a dubious honour of serving as his emissary and Hewn City’s pseudo queen.
Azriel chuckled mirthlessly and she filled the kettle and put it on the fire. He could've asked the House to make them tea, but he didn’t mind Mor taking care of him for this one instance. Gods only knew how many times he’d taken care of her and watched over her, even when she had no idea that he was near.
“Same as usual?” she queried, as she set out two mugs for them. He nodded.
Six sugars for him, the tea extra strong. Lemon and sugar for her.
“Are there biscuits?”
“Nesta likes the buttery ones,” he nodded toward a cupboard. “Cass pretends not to like the lemon and anise ones, but fails miserably every time.”
Mor snorted a laugh under her breath.
After the party, she’d changed into plain knit trousers, boots, a grey jumper and tied her long golden hair into a ponytail. It wasn’t often that he saw her out of her usual finery, but this was the Mor that only a few knew–not the girl in daring dresses, who favoured red, but a simpler version of her, someone who suffered from self-esteem issues, and who preferred to spar alone, so that no one could observe her.
Once the water boiled, she brewed them both tea and then brought it to the counter and set it before Azriel, before returning with an array of biscuits on a plate.
“You know, we just had a huge dinner,” he noted with a chuckle, but that didn’t stop him from picking up a few of the biscuits and sipping on his tea.
“What’s some tea with a good friend?” she shrugged, eyeing him over the rim of her cup.
“You look tired, Az.”
“I am tired,” he said simply.
“Why?”
“There is just a lot going on,” he said vaguely, but the look that she gave him told him that he wasn’t going to weasel out of the conversation, so he squared his shoulders and explained,
“Rhys kind of…threw a lot of my plate. I have to run my network as usual, I have to increase my presence in the Human Lands because of everything that’s happening with Koschei. I have to meet with Lucien and his little gang of misfits on the regular. I have to train the priestesses. I have to deal with Eris,”
Mor’s nose wrinkled at the mention of the male’s name.
“There is research that I’ve been doing regarding Feyre’s condition–without any success,” he sighed deeply and shook his head. “I don’t even know what we will be doing about all of that, and Rhys…”
“What?”
“He refuses…refuses…to make any contingency plans.”
Azriel sighed again, grasping the hot mug between his hands and seemingly not noticing the burn.
“Has he said anything to you?”
Mor bit her lip and shook her head no. He grunted his exasperation and muttered,
“That’s not how you run a Court. I know, I am his brother, and I serve him, but I am worried. I am worried that something awful will happen and we’ll be left holding our dicks in the wind,”
At that, Morrigan barked a loud laugh. Leave it to Azriel to use colourful language when talking about serious issues.
“He is desperately worried,” she reminded him, her voice soft and laced with concern. “I think he understands the gravity of the situation,”
“He is putting his personal life ahead of his Court,” Azriel said, his tone bitter. She glanced at him in surprise. It wasn’t like him to lose his temper, or to speak so openly about his concerns with Rhys. It wasn’t a secret that the two males often butted heads, and Rhys was not above using his High Lord Coercion to bring Azriel to heel. The inherent dominance of his persona was often the only thing that kept Azriel in check. And if she was being honest, Mor often agreed with Az, as opposed to her cousin. But Rhys was madly in love with Feyre, and on some level, Mor understood that his judgement was utterly clouded by his adoration of his mate and his worry for the future.
“Apparently, he is exempt from acting like a High Lord right now, and thinking from a political standpoint about the future, or his Court,” Azriel concluded dryly, and Mor sensed that there was more that he wasn’t saying.
“She is his mate,” she reminded him gently. “And she might be dying,”
He snapped,
“I know all about mates, Mor. And yet, here we are.”
She threw a sharp look at him and demanded,
“So you think I should’ve married Eris? Like a good little mate? For the sake of the Courts and politics?”
He offered her a cold, measured assessment, and then took a long sip of his tea. She glared angrily at him, her temper rising, even more so, because he was ignoring it and absolutely giving no shits.
At last, he said,
“Not for me to judge or decide. I just dealt with the aftermath of it all…”
She crossed her arms on her chest and demanded,
“What did you expect me to do?”
He scrubbed his hand over his face and his wings relaxed behind his back, like he didn’t care about the conversation and was making himself comfortable.
“Listen,” he said roughly, his mood clearly influenced by the sea of anger and resentment that was churning inside of him. “Eris might be a son of a bitch and a cold bastard, but the male has lived with an unresolved bond for 500 years.”
Mor choked on her drink, her brown eyes flaring with alarm, which turned into something very similar to fear.
“What?” she breathed.
Well, if he was going to lay all the cards out on the table, then he was going to commit.
They were due for the conversation anyway. Long overdue, actually. About five-hundred-twenty-years overdue.
So, he conjured a bottle of whiskey, because all that unusual power that he possessed did come in handy once in a while. Mor watched him with wide eyes, perhaps forgetting that he was capable of doing things like these with his magic–because his magic was on par with that of Rhys, a High Lord. But no one was ready to talk about that just yet.
With a snap of his fingers, he brought two shot glasses to the table as well, and then opened the bottle and wordlessly poured both of them a measure.
“How…” she gasped, long fingers twisting nervously in front of her, “how…no one knows,”
“I know,” he cut her off.
“How long? How did you,”
“I am a fucking spymaster, Morrigan,” he reminded her coldly and tipped the drink back down his throat. It burned him well, and he smacked his lips, refilling his glass immediately.
“How long?” she demanded.
“Always, I suppose,” he rubbed his temples and said, “Eris isn’t the kind of male to be kind or accommodating to strangers. He is cold, calculating, and wouldn’t be taking too kindly to be made a laughing stock of, not by a seventeen year old girl, who smeared his face in the mud by losing her precious virginity, which was promised to him, to an Illyrian bastard,”
Mor flushed, her cheeks colouring deeply and her eyes dropped to her hands, the shot glass still untouched next to her.
Azriel drummed his fingers absently on the table, and continued,
“You see…one starts to wonder what would compel a male like Eris–proud and haughty and cruel–to free this girl, the girl who humiliated him and made him look like a fool, from the binds of a marriage contract,”
“I wasn’t a virgin,”
“Oh yes. That was a good and believable excuse–of course Eris, the heir apparent to the Autumn Court, wouldn’t want to sully himself with a woman who went against him and her family, against her honour, and fucked a boisterous Illyrian bastard, who didn’t have a coin to his name, and just a promise of greatness,”
“Which he fulfilled,”
“Certainly,” Azriel agreed. “But it’s not about your decision to sleep with my brother, while knowing that I had feelings for you,” he threw out coldly, his gaze dark, though he didn’t sound accusatory, but rather…tired.
To her credit, Morrigan remained in her seat, though he could see that she was itching to jump out of it and run away from the conversation. But he wasn't going to let her.
“There is a twist to the story, you see,” he bit on a biscuit, thinking that he went from a filling holiday dinner, to tea, to biscuits, to whiskey, to more biscuits, all the while almost kissing his girl, then breaking his girl’s heart, fighting with his High Lord, threatening a Blood Duel, and now dropping some very uncomfortable truths on a woman he used to love. He was really on a roll today.
“Which is?” she wondered, watching him closely, but with a certain level of detachment, almost mesmerised by his storytelling, as if it wasn’t about her.
“Eris wouldn’t have been kind, you see. If he didn’t care, he would’ve taken you on and punished you. Much like Beron did with his wife. You see, I think that the Lady of Autumn had been unfaithful to her High Lord in her youth, or maybe even later in life, and he’d been taking revenge on her for centuries. He beats her, humiliates her, isolates her, he berates her verbally and punishes her physically, all the while using her for power–she is powerful, the Lady of Autumn–and Beron harnesses that power for his own gain,”
Mor gasped softly, whispering, “how do you know all this?”
“I am the Spymaster of the Night Court,” he said firmly, even proudly. “And Eris could’ve followed in his father’s footsteps. He could’ve taken you as his bride, and made you miserable and devastated you in every way possible for all the years of your life,”
She swallowed audibly, paling at his words, at the life she, thankfully, never lived.
“What I think happened,” he rolled his shoulders, and then threaded his fingers through his thick hair, “was that when you were betrothed and met for the first time, the bond snapped for Eris. He was taken with you immediately–still is–because he asks after you to this day, worries about you, insults you, so you’d pay attention to him, and resents you for ignoring him. But the bond did not snap for you…Couldn’t.”
She jumped out of her seat and wrapped her arms around her body, beginning to pace nervously the length of the kitchen. Azriel fell silent, watching her. He could almost see the beating of her heart through the thin material of her jumper, the fluttering of her pulse. She was rattled. Riled up.
“Azriel,” she turned to him at last, her voice pleading and quiet.
He poured himself another drink, but didn’t actually drink it. His finger circled the rim of the glass and he waited for her to say something.
“I didn’t know, Morrigan,” he confessed, his voice losing its metallic edge. “I didn’t. For a long time.”
“Know what?” her years brimmed with tears, which she blinked back, refusing to allow them to fall.
“Come here,” he told her.
She cupped her hand over her mouth, shaking her head, refusing to move.
He watched her crumble, and there was a piece of him that enjoyed her disintegration. Did that make him cruel? He wasn’t sure. She’d hurt him though. Broke his heart. Made him hate himself. Made him doubt his worth–something that never really changed up until this day. She could’ve just told him and he would’ve accepted it. But she didn’t. And he was forced to piece half-truths, lies, conjuncture, half-lies and assumptions together for years.
“Come here,” he repeated and extended his hand to her.
“You’ll hate me,” she whispered.
“No,” he flexed his finger, waiting for her, for her hand. “I don’t hate you,”
“Why?”
“You probably hurt Eris more than you hurt me. And I got to live my life side by side with you, and to have you as a friend matters more to me than having some dalliance with you.”
She returned to her seat and placed her hand in his, his long thick scarred fingers closing over her own.
“Eris couldn’t hurt you,” Azriel said calmly, watching her and her tears, which dropped down her cheeks. “He couldn’t hurt his mate. He might have been angry, or embarrassed, but he couldn’t inflict pain on his mate. But you couldn’t accept the mate bond, because,”
“It wasn’t there,” she sobbed softly. “I didn’t feel anything. And he said that I only had to accept it, and then it would snap for me. But I couldn’t,” she wiped her tears with her hand. “I couldn’t…”
“I know,” he stroked her head. “I understand. You couldn’t accept it not because it was Eris, but because he was a male.”
She nodded, crying softly.
“And he did all he could do under the circumstances to protect you–it was brutal, but he had no choice. He left you there, in the forest, and did not touch you. If he did, he would’ve instantly claimed you as his, and for the Autumn Court. You would’ve become his bride, bound to him, regardless of your acceptance of the bond,”
She was nodding steadily.
“And,” he added, telling her something he’d never told anyone else before, including Cassian, “he passed the coordinates of your whereabouts to Rhys. Rhys gave them to me. I rushed to grab you before any more damage was done to your body and before anyone else from Autumn could claim you…touch you. If you were still untouched, you were under the Night Court’s jurisdiction and time was of the essence.”
Her eyes flew wide open,
“Eris did that?”
Azriel nodded.
“He is still a piece of shit for not finding a way to help you somehow, but at least he did that.”
Her thumb brushed over his fingers and she wondered quietly,
“And you?”
He hummed and shrugged his shoulders.
“I wanted to tell you how I felt about you, which was probably a stupid idea. But I was rattled. Rattled by the idea of your ending up in Autumn. Rattled by the idea of you marrying Eris. Worried that I wouldn’t get the chance to tell you…I understood that every day is precious and we don’t know what could happen to all of us. And there were too many unspoken words as it is between all of us. So I wanted to tell you, but you walked away,”
She sucked in her breath, remembering that awful day, the decision that she had to make yet again, and turn away another male.
“I didn’t know,” he admitted. “I didn’t realise back then that you didn’t accept Eris or the bond not because it was Eris, but because,”
Mor exhaled and took the step that she always feared and refused to take. But Azriel already knew. So it was just a matter of putting it into words. Giving it life.
“I prefer females.”
He nodded, a small smile dancing on his lips. He looked at her like he was happy for her. Proud maybe. She wasn’t sure, but he certainly didn't seem angry, or surprised.
“How long have you known?” she murmured.
“Ohhhh…for a long time,” he stretched his wings and his arms, his muscles bunching up under his tunic and she looked at him appreciatively. He really was a fine specimen. Like some ancient demigod who descended upon their land–winged and dark and usually swathed in shadows and beautiful beyond belief. He wasn’t like the rest of them and to this day, Mor wasn’t sure of what to make of him.
“How did you find out?”
“Saw you,” he chuckled, “with that human Queen of centuries ago…I can’t recall her name, but,”
“Andromache,” Mor whispered.
“You loved her then?”
She nodded.
“I did. She was my first, and only, great love.”
“A human woman. A married one too. And a queen.”
She scowled and grunted, “I suppose I know how to pick them.”
“I was doing reconnaissance in the Human Lands, and Rhys ordered me to meet up with you and I figured that I’d just drop by, and you’d be happy to see me. Instead, I saw something else, which surprised me, but also, explained everything and at last, I gained clarity.”
“I am sorry,” she said again.
“You should’ve just told us–we would’ve kept it a secret, if you didn’t want your family to know,”
“I know. But at some point, I felt like it was too late. I’ve wasted so much time, and as the years went by, it seemed less and less possible. I would’ve looked absurd–so many lies and so much pretence.”
“We all look absurd at times. You think I don’t look insane,” he snorted an unhappy laugh, “when Rhys still thinks that I am in love with you! In fact, he told Feyre the same thing! Now she also thinks that I am hopelessly enamoured with you, while Cassian doesn’t know what to think at all,”
Mor couldn’t help herself, and laughed a sombre, dry laugh and then lifted her shot glass to him and announced, “to telling lies and being absurd!”
She chugged the drink and he followed her, swallowing his own at once.
She slammed the glass down and then announced loudly,
“You are in love with Elain Archeron.”
Azriel gulped the remains of his whiskey and it burned his throat in an unpleasant way, as he struggled to stifle a cough, while Mor stared at him triumphantly.
“What the fuck, Mor?” he ground out at her.
“I am no Spymaster, but,” she flicked his forehead, “I also know some things.”
He rubbed his hand over his whole face and asked, “What do you know?”
“Just what I said–you are in love. With Elain. Been in love with her even before the War.”
“I am not in love with her,” he protested feebly.
“Liar.”
“She is mated to Lucien,”
“Like you give a fuck,” she huffed. “I am surprised you haven’t just murdered him and hid the body forever,”
“I am not going to murder him,” he grumbled.
“I know,” her tone softened and she stroked his hand. “I know. You won’t even if it torments you, because you love her. And you know how painful it would be for her if he died. She’d lose her mate, and even if she doesn’t care about him and hasn’t accepted the bond, the attachment is still there,”
“That’s why you hate Eris, but care about his well-being,” he muttered.
She bit her lip and didn’t answer, but her silence was telling enough.
She did hate Eris. Or rather, avoided him. Though she did not feel the bond, there was still a flutter of it in her subconscious. It made her worry about Eris. She hated that she worried about him, but during both Wars, she watched him on the battlefield and was terrified that he would be hurt, or worse, killed. The idea of him dead was unfathomable to her. The bond twisted everything, and all natural resentment that one would feel, turned into an inexplicable longing and pain. She’d always been empty, and unhappy, because there was a space inside of her which was never filled–a promise, unfulfilled forever. She learned to live with it, and she did not doubt her choice, and felt no regrets, but the hollowness remained, as did her concern for Eris. That’s why she could never call a Blood Duel against him, and neither could she challenge him, or conspire against him. That’s why when Azriel attacked him during the High Lords’ meeting, she lost her mind with worry, her loyalties tested and pushed to the limit–her lifelong friend and brother or her unaccepted mate. And when Rhysand betrayed her trust, and went behind her back and chose to ally with Eris, she ultimately forgave her cousin–because Eris did everything to avoid hurting her. Whatever agreement and promises he made to her father, they were powerful enough to convince Keir to remain in Hewn City and not visit Velaris. And she knew that Eris did that for her.
“Yeah,” she nodded sadly.
“So that means I can’t fuck him up and end him?” he teased darkly.
“Shut up.”
She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, sighing deeply. It seemed to him that a heavy weight was finally lifted off her shoulders. The burden that she’s been carrying for so long, the weight of secrets and lies, finally dissolving and lightening her emotional load.
“Elain is your mate…” she stated simply, but unequivocally.
“What?” his head whipped to her, and then he grabbed her glass and moved it away from her demonstratively, murmuring, “alrighty then, I think no more drinking for you today…”
She laughed and smacked his hand.
“I am not drunk,” she assured him, and then opened her eyes and looked directly at him. “And neither am I lying to you. Listen,” she propped herself on her elbows on the table and said, her expression tense and serious, “the lines are all crossed…and I can’t make sense of them,”
“What lines?”
“I see…” she scratched her nose, before continuing, trying to put things together for him, “lines…Truths. About people. That’s the power that I have–one of them, anyway–to see truths that no one else sees. And I know how things are connected, how people are intertwined–I saw it with Nesta and Cass, and I knew that they were going to be mates, but she’d fight it and he’d have to fight for her. And I saw the connection between Feyre and Rhys, even though he told me that she was his mate–I knew she’d accept him. Yet, the clearest connection that I saw recently has been between you and Elain. And,”
“And?”
“Someone you might not expect,”
“Who?”
“Vassa and another male,” she stated, and Azriel glanced at her hopefully.
“Jurian? Or…?”
“I cannot say,” she stopped him. “I can’t say, just in case it would affect that connection,”
“Yet you are telling me about Elain and myself?”
“The connection is already there, and you know it and just about admitted to it.”
“I didn’t admit to anything,” he argued roughly. “It’s friendship. Like it is with you.”
The corner of Mor’s mouth rose in a smirk.
“It’s almost like you enjoy going after unavailable women…”
“Morrigan,”
“Sorry! Sorry,” she waved him off. “But we both know that it’s much more than ‘friendship’. You cried for her, when she was thrown into the Cauldron. You were almost dead, but you cried for her.”
“We've failed them. Me and Cass. We promised to shield and protect them, but we failed them,”
“Yes,” she agreed. “We all did. But that doesn’t explain you heading into the heart of the Hybern camp to save her. Or you arming her with your dagger, which she was able to handle, and rather successfully too,”
Colour bloomed on Azriel’s cheeks as he recalled everything that had passed between him and his girl.
“You hand her a dagger and she kills the King?” she raised a brow at him.
He cleared his throat and said, somewhat reluctantly,
“We…share power. My shadows react to her, and want to protect her…they care about her, like they care for no one else. And it’s like–I can’t explain it, Mor–but her power, whatever it is, rises up to meet mine, and it’s just so complimentary.”
“So, perhaps you are power mates?” she proposed, her brow creasing with some thought. “It is interesting…”
“What is?”
“She was Made. Her power is wholly Cauldron-based. Gifted to her. But if she matches it with yours, and your power also answers hers, then,”
She paused.
“What?” he laughed. “I am Made too?”
“I don’t know,”
“Well, definitely not in the Cauldron. Probably in the depths of Hel, more like it.”
“More like it.”
He sighed and rose to his feet.
“I better go and catch some sleep. I have a snowball fight to lose in the morning.”
“So defeatist?” she teased him.
“Well, I suppose that’s my truth for tonight…that’s the connection that I see–me, snowballs and losing.”
“Happy losing then.”
She got up and then came over to him and threw her arms around his huge body.
“I am sorry, Az. For everything.”
“I am sorry, too, Mor,” he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “But I am glad that we were able to talk and get it all out in the open.”
“Me too. I wish we weren’t so stubborn and spoke to each other a lot sooner.”
“Better late than never?”
He flicked his fingers and the bottle of whiskey disappeared.
“Happy Solstice,” she said and then gently kissed his mouth, stroking his head.
He tensed, but then forced himself to respond and said,
“Happy Solstice, Mor. Thanks for being a good friend.”
She watched him go, and then called out just before he disappeared in the hallway,
“Keep the necklace.”
“What?” he asked in confusion.
“Keep the necklace,” she repeated, and then winnowed somewhere just like that.
He slept as well as could be expected, but when Azriel returned to the River house to gather his presents before dawn, he found Elain’s necklace amid the pile. He pocketed it.
Spent the rest of his day, even the blasted snowball fight, with every intention of returning it to the shop in the Palace of Thread and Jewels.
But when he returned from the cabin in the mountains, he didn’t go to the market square.
Instead, he found himself following Morrigan’s advice and wrapped the necklace around his wrist, like a bracelet, before he hid it under his leather Siphon band.
He drank the sense of power that emanated from the necklace, before pushing it down deep, where it glowed quietly.
A thing of secret, lovely beauty.
#Azriel#Morrigan#Azriel and Mor#Moriel#Azriel and Morrigan#my fanfiction#my writing#Solstice Night#secrets and lies#eris#elain archeron#elriel#pro elriel#SJM rewrite#acosf azriel pov#angsty#Moriel finally talking
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(Disclaimer: I'm about to stream-of-conscious-style write about Az/Mor Mates Theory, but also theorize the implications of Elriel beyond that. Because we all know where my true heart lies. I also briefly mention parallels between Mor&Elain and Azriel&Lucien which I think are interesting.)
The more I think of the Az/Mor Mates theory the more I can find evidence for it. Not only that, but so many things start to make sense if you view it from the lens of consequences that have occured because Mor hasn't faced the truth of their connection and rejected it. Because "she doesn't want to be the cause of more of his suffering" as she claims herself in her POV in ACOFAS. She seems to struggle with being true to herself, despite having Truth as a gift. It's particularly interesting because Elain essentially has a parallel journey to Mor (in terms of having a mating bond that both women appear to [don't come for me, I'm going off what's written] not want -- but ALSO, in terms of doing things for the sake of not disappointing those around her), and we have already seen Mor take a liking to Elain. It wouldn't surprise me if they end up learning from each other, in choosing for their own hearts and not for something that was decided for them by external forces.
You all know I am an Elriel, through and through. "Why not make them mates?" What if one of the many reasons that couldn't happen was because of what hasn't been faced and addressed between Azriel and Mor? (And it WILL be, because Rhys didn't bring it up for nothing). Because I haven't posted my "Skeleton" deep dive of Azriel's chapter, I haven't been able to publicly mention that Mor is another character who was brought up in both bonus POV's, and in both instances it was a case of "what about Mor?". From a very esoteric perspective, the more you run away from something, the more the karmic consequences of that running start to build up. Eventually, you have to stop running and face things head on. Even regardless of whether or not they're mates, a conversation between Mor and Azriel NEEDS to happen before his story can even move forward.
The thing is, though, that I think it speaks volumes of the love between Azriel & Elain that she is a major part of him letting Mor go. Finally, after 500 years. That cannot be overlooked or ignored.
(I can go into another tangent about the Two Mates Theory, and also the False Mates Theory, and how all of these come into play, but it requires more annotations than I have the energy to collect)
I think Truth (being Mor's gift, and Azriel's blade, and the blade that Elain wielded to kill Hybern) will play a major part in their story...and I do still think there is a potential for Mor to get her own book. I also think the advice she gave Feyre about Lucien/Elain, and how they both need to figure out who they are and where they want to be, also applies to herself. There's a small handful of characters who need to have this journey, actually (Mor, Az, Elain, Lucien), to really decide where they want their story to go from this point -- to decide if they want to abide by expectations of friends and family, or if they truly want to follow their own hearts and longings. They will figure it out, though. Mor promised us they would. We just have to wait and see what that looks like.
(As an aside: I briefly talked about the parallel between Mor & Elain, but also look at the parallels between Azriel and Lucien. If they both end up being males in rejected mating bonds...They're both the despised brothers of the family. They both have some form of physical scarring. They're both outcasts, or feel as though they're floating with no feeling of belonging. Come ON. It's such an interesting dynamic between the four of them!!! Someone write a crackfic for them based on Midsummer Night's Dream, PLEASE)
In terms of where I hope this story goes, I really hope we see Mor/Emerie, Lucien/Vassa, and Azriel/Elain, and I hope they're able to find a home with each other that they haven't been able to find up until this point. I hope all of them end their stories feeling like they belong, like they have the love they have been waiting for, like they have friends they can count on and depend on. I hope Lucien ends up in Day Court with Vassa (and Jurian), having broken her curse with Helion's tutelage. I hope Emerie gets more page time, and she and Mor begin the foundations of the revival of the dusk court (where Nesta and the Valkyries start training female Illyrians). I hope Azriel and Elain have the type of love that reaches into the foundations of each others being and touches on parts that nobody has been able to see or reach before. The type of love that never makes you feel lonely again. I hope they have a home together, wherever it ends up being. I hope their story is full of healing, growth, belonging, and self-acceptance, most of all. That's what I really want to see from SJM.
#end the ship wars and look at the DYNAMICS#THIS IS A GOLDMINE OF POTENTIAL THEORY AND POTENTIAL STORY#and healing and growth and friendships and found family#*SOBBING*#JUST LOOK#azriel and mor#elriel
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The Inner Circle - A Court of Thorns and Roses
Artist: @tangerine.eileen
#feysand#feyre archeron#rhysand#nessian#nesta archeron#cassian#elriel#elain archeron#azriel#mor#morrigan#amren#the inner circle#acotar#sjmaas
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wings
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader
Word Count: 3.1K
Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff
Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.
"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.
You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind.
Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body.
If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber.
"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.
"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.
“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.
Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.
Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.
The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.
𓇢𓆸
Mor, Feyre and Nesta.
It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.
The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.
It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.
A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.
The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.
"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."
“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.
You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.
They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.
"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.
Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.
𓇢𓆸
Cassian.
Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too.
On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.
Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.
"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.
Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.
The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"
You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.
"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.
"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.
“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.
Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.
"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.
"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.
Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.
"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.
"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.
Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.
You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.
With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.
Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.
Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.
𓇢𓆸
Rhys and Nyx.
“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.
You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.
Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.
Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.
Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.
Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.
You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.
As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.
His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.
"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.
Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger.
"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.
"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.
𓇢𓆸
Azriel.
“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.
You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.
You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.
But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.
As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.
You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.
"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.
Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.
"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you.
“That’s it my love, that’s it…”
Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.
Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms.
"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were.
Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.
"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.
But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.
"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."
Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.
"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."
Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.
𓇢𓆸
As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.
"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.
"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."
You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.
"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.
You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"
"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.
Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.
"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.
"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.
"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.
"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.
Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.
You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.
"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.
Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”
Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.
They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them.
“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.
But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.
No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.
A glow they were forever grateful for.
a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3
Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x
#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#acotar fanfiction#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#feyre cursebreaker#feyre archeron#rhys acotar#cassian#nesta acosf#mor acotar#amren acotar#nyx archeron#acotar series#inner circle
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— “You were flirting with me?”
pairing: Azriel x fem!reader
summary: You leave Azriel mid-makeout to debrief with your girls
warnings: suggestiveness, the ic being nosey, miscommunication, rhys and cassian knowingly riling az up, the girls get drunk and interrogate reader, the boys get drunk and interrogate az,
amara’s note: this might be the funniest thing i’ve ever written. also sorry for my absence i’m posting more soon💗💗
You’ve had a massive crush on Azriel since the day you met him. He didn’t really notice you and was somewhat nice to you.
Really, you had no idea how you started crushing on him, I mean he paid you no special attention or anything. Maybe it was because he was quiet, handsome, tall, dark, mysterious and only spoke when it was necessary. He also cracked jokes and flashed grins that made your heart flutter. The Mother knows how much it grated your nerves whenever a male tried to hit or talk to you when you clearly had no desire to.
Azriel was the complete opposite and you started worrying that you were the one who grated on his nerves everytime you tried speaking to him.
“Hi Azriel, how are you doing?” you noticed him sitting at the dining table, collected yourself and asked him.
“Good,” he said staring straight into your soul before he realized his answer wasn’t really socially appropriate so asked you, “How are you?”
You just smiled awkwardly and nodded, “I’m fine, thanks.”
And that was how 90% of your conversations went. There was no further comments or extra questions and fuck if it wasn’t awkward. You really wanted to get to know him but you also knew how impossible it was since even the people he had been friends with for half a millennium often considered him a mystery.
Sensing the weird energy in the room, you just swiftly said goodbye, not bothering to stay to hear his goodbye.
He wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to do something, perhaps eat brunch at the restaurant you talked about to Cassian but you were moving before he had the chance. Azriel got extremely annoyed with himself, wondering why the hell he couldn’t ask you out like a normal person.
With determination, he promised himself to try the next time.
—
The girls all knew about your very obvious crush on Azriel and encouraged you to approach him often. They were all mated and happy and you wish it was you, you that had a mate, you who got loved and kissed and hugged and fucked.
But you just had to be obsessed with a man that paid you no attention… Maybe that’s why you wanted him, you viewed him as a challenge, and you loved challenges. Despite wanting his attention and wanting to get to know him, you still had self-respect and didn’t act like a pathetic, desperate, love-sick puppy infront of him.
So you went from always greeting him and smiling at him, trying to initiate conversations to flat out ignoring him. I mean, he never talked to you first so maybe it was time to accept it and just admire him from afar.
—
Azriel began to sense a dullness in his days, a void he couldn't really pinpoint. He realized he hadn’t talked to you, or rather, you hadn't talked to him while he played it cool, trying not to make his beating heart obvious. He noticed the absence of your chatter, questions and lovely voice, realizing that his days grew more mundane and boring without someone asking about his shadows, what his plans were, where he got Truth-Teller.
Azriel observed during dinner that you didn't glance at him once; your attention was solely on the girls or his brothers. You chose to stand up, walk across the dining room and grab the bowl of potatoes beside him instead of asking him for it, and it really irked him. Was he not worthy of passing a simple bowl of fucking potatoes?
He wondered if he had done something to make you avoid talking to him. Despite not being the most talkative person, he paid very close attention to everything you said, even if it seemed unnoticed. Azriel loved your presence and he thought he made his interest in you very clear when he looked at you.
Cassian had said girls like eye contact, still everytime he stared into your soul, you only looked weirded out. Was he doing it wrong? Maybe he wasn’t keeping eye contact long enough.
He had grown extremely fond of your talking and felt empty without it. Finding you alone in the kitchen while you prepared a quick breakfast, Azriel decided it was time to talk. The others had already headed to the training grounds as you had slept in. You were cooking your breakfast, not noticing Azriel.
“Hey.”
You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as you slowly looked up at him. Was he really talking to you? But why?
“Yeah?”
He stayed quiet for a bit, just staring at you in that weird way he always did. Even though he wasn't sure if you liked him back and was afraid of rejection, he still wanted to talk to you.
“How have you been?”
You fight the urge to furrow your brows in confusion. Since when the hell did Azriel care? You were truly baffled and tried to act normal.
“Uh, I’ve been good, you?”
Azriel didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.
Usually, you'd spontaneously share every detail of your morning routine, even without him asking. He fucking loved to listen as you talked about your broken hairbrush, the struggle of choosing clothes, the snug fit of your leathers due to gained muscles, and the morning hassle with your hair, prompting you to wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual.
“I’m okay. Have you done anything else today? How is your hairbrush?”
A stupid question really, but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to see that familiar spark in your eyes as you talked about anything and everything. No way would he ever forgive himself if he ruined something between you.
Your face heated at the fact that he remembered such a minuscule detail about something you said weeks ago.
”Oh, the hairbrush? It broke so I got an enchanted one. Heard it's like a hair miracle, tried it, and it really worked. By the way, your hair looks good. Did you cut it lately?”
Azriel couldn't help but warm up at your rambling. His eyes widened at first, and then he threw his head back and laughed. The deep, rich sound was familiar, yet it never failed to feel like the first time. It was a beautiful and joyful melody that always managed to make you melt on the inside.
"I really missed you," he admitted, feeling your heart pound in your chest, unable to meet his gaze.
"You did?" Azriel's soft smile warmed your heart, the one you'd nearly missed.
"I did. I enjoy being around you and hearing your voice," he confessed.
"Oh, I always thought you didn’t." You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and relief.
Stepping closer, Azriel's presence loomed over you, his hand gently lifting your chin.
“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m sorry that my silence ever gave you that impression. I thought I was making my interest clear, to be honest,” he murmured, sincerity gleaming in his hazel eyes.
“Okay, I promise I won’t misunderstand again. But why did you think you made yourself clear?” you whispered, feeling a rush of energy as you locked eyes with him.
“Because I made a point of holding prolonged eye contact, thinking it was a clear signal of my interest,” he explained matter-of-factly.
You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. “So, all those times you were staring at me, you were actually flirting?”
Azriel's expression softened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, yes. I thought you knew.”
Suppressing a giggle, you bit your lip and glanced away, not wanting to offend him.
“Ah, not exactly crystal clear, but I understand now. Let’s go for a walk and chat some more,” you suggested, linking your arm through his.
"Sounds perfect. Now, tell me about those new leathers you got," he said, his playful demeanor easing the tension, steering the conversation towards lighter topics.
—
Over the next few months, the bond between you and Azriel deepened. He trusted you with secrets of his life that remained hidden from everyone else. These private conversations became the pillars of your connection, sweet moments for you only.
As the months went by, an unspoken desire for more lingered between you and Azriel. Yet, despite the magnetic pull, something kept you from going the final step.
You've had countless close moments where you almost kissed, where just a tip-toe closer would have sealed the deal. But it never happened. So close, yet so frustratingly far away.
—
Mor's question disrupted the laughter and gossiping of the girls' night, the clinking of wine glasses punctuating the anticipation in the air.
"Remind me again why you and Azriel aren’t a couple?”
Mor's curiosity hung palpably, shifting the mood from gossiping to an interrogation.
“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you replied, swirling the wine in your glass as you gathered your thoughts.
“We have a great connection, but there's this unspoken understanding between us. It’s like there's a boundary we're afraid to cross.”
Amren raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes observing you closely. “Unspoken understanding? Fancy fucking excuse”
Elain giggled and nodded in agreement.
You chuckled, “Maybe it is, but it’s like we're both tiptoeing around something, afraid to ruin what we have. I mean, do I want to be with him? Yeah, I do. But we might fuck something up and I think we have too good of a relationship to throw it all away.”
Nesta leaned back with a smirk, “Sounds like a case of unresolved sexual tension. Maybe the only cure would be to finally get a good dicking.”
You shot her a look, “You make it sound like a medical condition. Also that has got to be some plot from your smutty books.”
Feyre chimed in, “Maybe it is. Maybe it's time you took a bold step to see what happens. Who knows, it might get you laid.”
The group erupted into laughter, but underneath it, you couldn’t ignore the truth in their words. You liked him, there was no denying it. But did he like you as much?
—
“Is she dating anyone?” Rhysand’s casual question caught Azriel off guard as he browsed his big wine selections with Cassian while the girls where out of the house.
Azriel feigned ignorance. “Who?”
Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a knowing look. “Y/N. Is she dating anyone?”
Something about the question irked Azriel. “Why the hell do you care?”
Rhysand shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious. I might set her up with someone.”
Azriel's jaw clenched as he fought to mask his frustration. Rhysand's casual tone grated on his nerves, igniting a simmering jealousy he hadn't realized he harbored. Suppressing a sigh, he forced himself to respond evenly,
“She's a grown female, Rhys. She doesn't need you playing matchmaker for her.”
Cassian chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. “Easy, Az. No need to get defensive. I think little Y/N might want a lover of her own, no?”
Azriel's gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “I'm not being defensive. I just don't appreciate your implication. And no, she doesn’t need some lover.”
Rhysand raised an eyebrow, his smirk bordering on mischief. “Interesting. And why is that?”
Before Azriel could formulate a response, you had returned with the girls, your laughter echoing through the room, shifting the focus away from the questions. Azriel sighed, silently cursing Rhysand's annoying questions and the unresolved feelings stirring within him.
—
You turned off the tap and brought the glass of water to your mouth, much needed after the amounts of wine you and the girls had downed. It was honestly a miracle Mor had the energy to winnow you to the house of wind.
As the girls walked to the library for more drinking, you snuck into the kitchen for some water.
You put down the tall glass of water, swallowing the refreshing and cool drink before your body tingle.
Your stomach flipped, blood heating as your skin broke out in goosebumps.
His presence was undeniable.
Azriel was here.
Turning around to leave the sink, you saw him standing there behind the island, looking at you with a soft look that made your stomach flutter and cheeks heat.
"Hi," Azriel greeted softly as you approached him.
"Hi, Az." you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at the sight of him.
"Did you have fun with the girls?" he asked, his voice gentle.
"Yeah, I did," you answered with a smile as you looked down.
Azriel's lips twitched, and he gently lifted your chin with his pointer and thumb. He looked down at your midnight blue dress and raised his brows
"You look absolutely breathtaking."
Your heart beat faster and faster and you were damn sure your friends upstairs could hear how hard it drummed against your chest.
You leaned into his touch, the move careful and intentional. Azriel’s thumb rubbed against your jaw, your eyes glistening in awe at his handsome self.
”Thank you. It’s nothing special, I just like the color.”
Azriel's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "It's not just the color," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you. You’re beautiful."
A blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip nervously, unsure how to respond to such sincerity. But damn, he looked good, and the alcohol in your system made you feel bold enough to speak your mind.
"You look really good," you said, your voice a little breathless. "This shirt suits you."
Stepping closer, you let your hand rest on his sturdy chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension between you palpable. Slowly, your hand traveled down to the planes of his stomach, each movement filled with anticipation.
As you looked up at him with a mischievous smile, you played with his belt, the air crackling with the electric energy of the moment. His reaction was immediate, his gaze flickering with desire as the tension between you reached its peak.
Azriel clenched his jaw, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your breaths mingled. The sudden proximity caught you off guard, making you gasp softly.
"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with desire. "Let's not do things we can't handle."
Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine as his proximity sent electric sparks coursing through you. “That sounds like a challenge, Azriel,” you taunted, your voice barely a whisper.
Azriel’s smirk widened, his gaze burning with intensity. “Consider it an invitation.”
You looked at each other, breathing shallowly. Azriel’s intense gaze softened gradually as his eyes traveled further down to your lips. He swallowed, pupils wide with lust.
"May I-"
"Yes."
It was a tender, sweet kiss that caught you off guard in the best way possible. You didn't expect him to be so gentle, but you welcomed it wholeheartedly.
His touch was tender yet reassuring. One hand cradled the back of your head, while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him.
You melted into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness. Your hands found their way to his neck, clinging to him as if you never wanted to let go.
Azriel’s shadows swirled around you lazily, one trailing up your calf and causing you to twitch in surprise. Pulling back, you were met with his clouded, lustful eyes. A mixture of concern and confusion cleared up his hazy gaze.
Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Here you were, in the kitchen, making out with Azriel—the very male you'd had a crush on for what felt like an eternity. Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, needing a moment to collect yourself.
“Are you okay?”
“Mhm, I’m fine, just give me one second,” you managed to stammer out before turning on your heel and practically stumbling out of the kitchen.
With your heart racing and your mind in a whirlwind, you burst into the library where the girls were lounging, each with a glass of wine in hand. Feyre perked up at your arrival, offering a lazy smile.
“There you are, was wondering where you went,” she mused, clearly already feeling the effects of the alcohol.
Without thought, you blurted out the bombshell news. “Guys, Azriel and I kissed.”
The revelation seemed to sober up the entire room, and suddenly, you were bombarded with questions and reactions from your friends.
“Oh my gods, finally,” Mor exclaimed, practically jumping in her seat
“Is he a good kisser? Was it rough or soft? How did he hold you?” Nesta fired off questions, her curiosity piqued.
”All of you owe me 10 cold coins each. I’m always right,” Feyre slumped back in her seat, sipping the wine as she nodded happily.
“I knew you were up to something while we were in here,” Amren chimed in with a knowing smirk.
You grinned widely as you shared all the details with the girls, who were just as excited as you were. They leaned in, eager to hear every bit of the story.
As the questions swirled around you, Elain’s confused expression brought the conversation to a halt.
“Wait, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be kissing right now?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
You froze, the weight of her words sinking in. “Well, yes, we were just... making out, and I had to come here. I panicked.”
In response, your friends practically shoved you back outside, Nesta taking the lead. “And don’t you dare come back until your legs are shaking and you have a big smile on your face,” she declared with a mischievous grin.
You took a deep breath, suppressing your smile as you made your way back to the kitchen. Azriel stood there, leaning against the kitchen island with his feet crossed and arms over his chest.
“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice laced with concern.
You softened at his words, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him down slightly, you gave him a loud kiss that ended with an audible "mwah."
"I really couldn't be more comfortable. I love you, Az. Like a whole lot," you confessed, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.
Azriel's eyes softened at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender.
"I love you too," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I can put into words."
You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at his admission, your heart fluttering with happiness. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him again, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers down your spine.
Azriel grabbed your hips and slowly backed you into the kitchen island. You yelped when he picked you up and put you on the counter, deeping the kiss.
“Let me take you on a date. I want to do this properly,” he whispers breathlessly between kisses as he tucks your hair behind your ear.
You put your hands on his chest lovingly as you nod, smiling up at him. “I’d love that.”
—
extra scene where rhys and cassian visit azriel in the kitchen:
Azriel stood frozen as you left, his mind going into overdrive, worrying if he had done something wrong. Just as he was about to follow you, Rhys and Cassian popped their heads into the kitchen.
"Yo. Where did she go?" Cassian asked, scanning the empty kitchen.
Azriel furrowed his brows at the pair, or rather their heads.
"What the fuck are you doing here? Go before she comes back," he urged, shooing them away with his hand.
Rhys leaned against the kitchen island, a satisfied grin on his face. "It's about damn time."
Cassian nodded in agreement. "Fuck yeah, took him long enough. But hey, better late than never."
Azriel frowned, feeling the weight of their words. "You guys make it sound like it was some kind of mission."
Rhys chuckled. "In a way, it was. And you finally completed it."
Azriel sighed, "Stop talking like that, you sound fucking ancient.”
Cassian smirked at him, arms over his chest as he said “Y’all kissed?”
Azriel's cheeks flushed slightly at Cassian's question, but he maintained his composure. "Yeah, we did."
Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And?"
Azriel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "And it was... nice."
Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. "Nice? Come on, tongue?”
"Yeah, tongue,” he said trying and failing to suppress a smile.
Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I knew it, you little freak. What else?”
Azriel's expression turned guarded. “Okay, that's all you dickheads need to know. Now, get the fuck out before she comes back.”
Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up, a finger wagging in Azriel’s face. “You better not fuck in my kitchen, I swear to the Mother, I’ll make you both scrub every inch.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and ushered them out, leaning against the kitchen island, waiting for you.
#talkswithamara#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar x reader#acotar imagine#azriel#rhysand#azriel fluff#azriel fic#azriel imagine#azriel fanfic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acomaf#azriel acotar#az x reader#azriel x reader#azriel x yn#azriel x fem reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader fluff#azriel x female!reader#cassian#amren acotar#mor acotar#nesta archeron#feyre archeron#elain archeron#rhysand acotar#cassian acotar#azriel a court of thornes and roses
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You're Mine
Azriel x reader
~
You threw back another drink at Rita’s trying to drown the way you were feeling. You sighed as you leaned against the bar. You watched as Azriel leaned into Elain to make sure she was okay. You felt your heart crack a bit. You made sure your walls were up mentally and physically. You didn’t want anyone else to know how you felt about the shadowsinger. Mor was the only one that knew and you wanted to keep it that way. You closed your eyes centering yourself. When you opened them again, you locked eyes with those hazel ones you have loved for the last two hundred years. You gave him a smirk as you turned for your next drink. You felt a presence beside you.
“How are you holding up?” Mor leaned against the bar with you.
“I’m fine, Mor. Nothing a little of this can’t take care of.” You swirled the amber liquid around in the glass. Mor rolled her eyes at you.
“Maybe, you should tell him?” You felt yourself freeze. She was the only one that knew the mating bond snapped, for you anyway. She was there when it happened. Your jaw tensed.
“I’m not telling him.”
“Why?”
“Look at him over there with her. He’s infatuated, he looks like he’s in love and in the last three hundred years I’ve been with you all he’s never looked at anyone else like that before. Anyone.” Mor pursed her lips. She was about to say something when she saw it about the time you felt it. A shadow wrapping around your ankle. You smiled a bit. You let the shadow slither up to your shoulder.
“Hello there. I’m fine, you can tell him.” You gently caressed the little shadow before it scurried back down your side and over to the shadowsinger. You looked over to find shock on his face. Did he not know one of them came over to you? You quirked your eyebrows but quickly turned back to your conversation with Mor. “Anyway, I’m gonna go. I leave in the morning.”
“Leave? Where are you going?” You downed the rest of your drink before you answered her.
“The continent. Rhys wants an eye on the queens since we haven’t heard from them since before the war with Hybern.” Mor’s eyes widened.
“Are you going alone?” You nodded. She let out a scoff. “I can’t be here right now, Mor. Not while all of this is going on. I need to go somewhere, do something. I won’t be gone long, just a day.” She sighed. She knew.
“Doesn’t mean I like it. Just be safe, don’t die.” You laughed at her. She gave you a smile back.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” You gave her a small hug and made your way out of Rita’s. You were halfway down the street when you heard, and felt, a gust of wind.
“You’re leaving?” Shock covered your features as the shadowsinger appeared behind you.
“Jeez, Az, a little warning please.” He waited for you to answer his question. “Yes, I’m going home.” He gave you a look. You sighed before answering him. “I leave in the morning. I’ll only be gone a day, two at the most.”
“Where?”
“The continent.”
“It’s dangerous.” You tilted your head at him.
“I’ll be fine, Az. You’re the one who trained me. I’ll be fine.” Azriel didn’t seem so sure. You giggled as one of his shadows wrapped up your arm. You smiled down at it. “Tell him I’m going to be fine.” The little shadow seemed to disagree as well. You let it wrap around the hand you held up to it. You let it wrap around your hand and slide around for a while until it seems to be content.
Azriel was looking on in awe. He didn’t even ask his shadows to do that. They did it of their own accord. He had never seen that happen until tonight when you were at the bar with Mor. The way you giggled as it wrapped around your hand made his heart squeeze in a good way. Once his shadow seemed pleased it slithered back down your arm, leg, then scurried across the small space between the two of you.
“Are you sure you don’t need anyone to go with you?” He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of you going that far alone made his entire body ache. You reached out, giving his arm a squeeze.
“Az, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” That signaled the end of the conversation. Azriel sent one of his shadows with you to make sure you made it home. You let out a loud laugh, “Thank you, Az. Goodnight.” The shadowsinger didn’t reply. He just waited until you made the short walk back to your apartment.
~
You were not fine. Someone had tipped the queens off about your arrival. You didn’t know who it was, but you sure as hell were going to find out. You were taking a quick breather in a cave that seemed to be safe. That’s when you felt it. A little shadow crawling from behind your wing. You let out a sigh of relief.
“Hey there. He just couldn’t stand that I was going alone could he.” The shadow seemed to do a little dance confirming you were right. “I need you to tell him I was ambushed. I don’t know who did it and it could be more than a day until I’m back. He cannot come and cannot send anyone. I’ll make it back.” The little shadow slithered down to your hand and wrapped itself around it. You gave it a smile. “I will make it back.” It seemed to hear the conviction in your voice. It seemed to hug your hand before it scurried away.
You took a deep breath steeling yourself for what you were to do next.
~
Azriel’s shadow came back to him. He was surprised considering he hadn’t sent any out today. Once back it told him what happened. He swore the entire world stopped at that moment. You were ambushed and you told him to stay away. The worst part is, he knew you were right.
“Dammit.” He made his way to Rhys’s office at the House of Wind to relay what he found out. He did send a few shadows out to see if he could find who ratted you out. Azriel opened the door to find Rhys and Cassian already there. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” Azriel explained everything that happened to you and how you were holed up in a cave, safe, for now.
“Shit.” Cassian was up pacing before he even finished and Rhys had his head in his hands.
“What was this for anyway?”
“I needed someone to go see if there was any movement from the queens. I was going to ask you, but she volunteered.” Azriel didn’t know how to feel about that.
“Why would she do that?” Rhys and Cassian leveled him with a stare.
“For a spymaster, you sure are dense.” Rhys threw a hard stare in Cassian’s direction.
“For the love of the Mother, Rhys, I can’t not tell him at this point.”
“Tell me what?” Cassian and Rhys shared a conversation he wasn’t privy to. Rhys finally relented.
“She’s your mate, Az.” Az felt his heart drop.
“What?” Rhys and Cassian sighed. You didn’t know Rhys and Cassian knew the bond snapped into place for you. They had sensed something was different. It didn’t take long for them to put the pieces together, although you hid it very well. They let the information sink in for the spymaster.
“She volunteered because of the way you’ve been stuck to Elain’s side.” All three turned to see Mor standing in the doorway. She wasn’t sure if they had put the pieces together, but she knew Rhys, it wouldn’t take him long. Azriel felt his chest tighten. Yes, he had been by Elain’s side the last few months, but she didn’t see him that way, she just needed a friend.
“That’s not, there’s nothing between Elain and me.”
“It didn’t seem that way, especially to her. I tried to get her to tell you, but she thought you wanted Elain. So, she took this mission to get away, even if it was just for a day.” Azriel had no idea. Didn’t even get a hint that the two of you were mates. It made sense though, the way he was around you. He seemed more open with you, it was easier to joke with you. The way his shadows were drawn to you. It made so much sense. The other three stood there watching as all the pieces fell in place for the spymaster. Azriel opened his mouth to say something when one of his shadows wrapped around his ear.
She’s hurt.
Azriel stood up ready to go find you when they heard a commotion in the hallway. The four of them ran out to see what was going on. They followed Naula down the corridor, she led them to the balcony outside the dining area. There you were a crumpled heap on the ground.
~
You heard your name. You looked up to see Azriel, Mor, Rhys, and Cass running toward you. Azriel reached you first. He hooked one arm around your back and the other under your knees lifting you off the ground.
“What a welcome committee.” You rasped. You were breathing hard, too hard. Az watched the pain flash across your face. Your hand gripped Az’s shoulder a little harder. One of his shadows curled around your hand. You managed to smile a little. “Hello again.”
“Where are you hurt? What happened?” You closed your eyes, taking a breath before you replied.
“My wings.” The four of them looked to see the ends of your wings torn and many different spots. You heard Rhys yell for someone to get a healer. “I found out who did it. They won’t be a problem anymore.” Azriel couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face.
“That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of your head. Azriel carried you to a room, there was a couch. That’s all you could manage to comprehend through the pain. Azriel laid you down on the couch and immediately kneeled down beside you. He grabbed your hand. He didn’t let go. Not when Madja arrived. Not when you nearly passed out from the pain. He was there. Never letting go. Never leaving your side.
~
Madja said to rest for a few days. It was currently day four of healing and you had managed to talk Madja into letting you go home. You were rummaging through your kitchen when you felt it. You giggled as the shadow wrapped itself around your ankle and made its way up your side and perched on your shoulder.
“You can come in, Az. It’s unlocked.” A second later you heard your apartment door open. You turned to see him bringing a couple of bags in. “What’s all this?”
“A few groceries. I thought you might be getting low.”
“Thanks, Az.” You started helping him unload the bags. You were putting them away, his shadow still perched on your shoulder.
“They don’t do that with anyone else.” You turned, giving him a questioning look. “My shadows. They don’t do that with anyone.”
“You haven’t sent them?” Azriel shook his head. “Even the one that was with me on my mission?”
“I didn’t send it. I didn’t even know it was gone until it came back to me.” The shock was evident on your face. You had assumed he sent it. You looked at the little shadow still perched on your shoulder. “They only do that with you.”
You felt your heart stutter at the look he gave you. That’s when he felt it. The bond snapped into place. It had snapped for you long ago, but you could finally feel him. Everything.
“Az,” you didn’t know what else to say as he made his way to stand in front of you.
“You’re mine.” You felt the bond glow within you, but you had to ask.
“What about Elain?”
“What about her?” He didn’t mean it in a mean way, but he wanted you.
“You two just seemed so close.” You didn’t know how else to say it.
“I don’t want her. I’ve loved you for so long. I just didn’t think I was enough for you. I’m a-” you placed your finger on his lips. You knew what he was about to say. He was about to repeat what every Illyrian warrior has called him for years. You weren’t having any of it.
“Don’t you dare. You are everything, Az. Everything.” You cupped his face and watched as his shadow crawled across your arm to join the others. You stared into those hazel eyes, losing yourself. You took a deep breath knowing what you were about to do would make this final.
“Would you like something to eat?” Azriel’s eyes widened. He knew you were mates, but he was still unsure if you would accept the bond.
“Really?”
“Really.” Finally he slotted his lips against yours. You felt everything in the kiss. You were his and he was yours.
#azriel x reader#azriel#acotar#acomaf#shadowsinger x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#azriel x you#rhys x reader#mor x reader
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Sweet Creature
Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.
Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)
Word count - 8.4k (oops)
Based on this ask
It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.
And fast.
Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.
"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.
"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."
Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.
Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.
The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.
A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.
"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.
Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."
It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.
Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.
But you had never needed saving, and you never would.
Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.
A celestial witch. In the flesh.
Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.
"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."
"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."
A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."
If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.
Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.
In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.
You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.
"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.
There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.
"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"
Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.
"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"
Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.
Then a laugh.
Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.
A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.
It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.
The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.
Azriel gasped.
"Mate."
Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"
Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.
"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.
"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.
Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."
The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.
Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.
"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."
The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.
Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.
And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.
In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.
It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.
You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.
There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.
Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.
Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.
Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.
Talk to me.
Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.
If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.
In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.
It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.
Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.
A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.
"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."
Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.
The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.
Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."
Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.
"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."
"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.
"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."
"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."
Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."
"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"
Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."
Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.
Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?
Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.
If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.
Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.
Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.
That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.
"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.
It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.
Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"
Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"
Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."
In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.
"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.
Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."
Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."
That fucking name.
You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."
The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.
Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.
"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."
Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.
"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."
Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"
Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."
Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.
In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.
Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.
"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."
Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."
If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.
Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.
Fuck.
It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.
Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.
Rhys. I didn't know.
I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.
Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.
Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."
Stop talking.
"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."
Stop fucking talking.
"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."
Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."
Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.
Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"
Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"
It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."
Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.
Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.
Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.
"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"
Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."
"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."
It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.
The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.
The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.
"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."
Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."
"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."
Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.
Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.
How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?
You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.
"How did you find me?"
A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"
You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.
Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.
You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."
"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."
The world stopped moving.
"What?"
Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."
Break the bond.
It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."
Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"
"It's what's best for us, y/n."
No. No, no, no.
"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."
You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.
Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.
"You never let me in."
Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.
You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.
Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?
"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."
His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.
"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."
Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."
All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.
A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."
Let her in. Feel her.
The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.
"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."
Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.
As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.
Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.
It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.
When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.
The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.
It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.
"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"
Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."
Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."
Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.
Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"
"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.
Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?
All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.
"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."
"You have?"
Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."
"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."
Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."
"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."
"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."
Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."
The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"
If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.
Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.
Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.
Utterly magical. Soul consuming.
Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.
"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."
"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."
Authors Note
Hey besties!
I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo
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Cat's Out of the Bag, Claws and All
Synopsis: You’re sick of Cassian and Rhysand sticking their noses where it doesn’t belong. And Azriel’s tendency to let things slide when it comes to himself isn’t helping.
Word Count: 4k (not proof read)
“I just think you’re becoming a bit…”
“A bit what, Cass?” Azriel was not in the mood for this. Sitting in Rita’s, in a booth right to the back while his two brothers pestered him on his love life was not how he wanted to spend the night after he’d returned to Velaris. You had been absent from his bed when he’d finally made it back in the early hours of the morning. Though he wasn’t worried. You had duties to attend to for Rhys as one of his foreign relations advisors, normally starting as soon as you woke in order to enjoy your evenings free of work to spend with him- even if he was the one still doing paperwork.
“Don’t you think she’s a bit too… extreme?” Azriel snarled at Cass’ blatant insult to you. But he held his hands up in peace, Rhys cutting in before he could do more damage. “What we’re trying to say, Azriel, is that it seems like you aren’t yourself lately. You’ve been showing up more recently, which is not a bad thing and we’re happy to see more of you. But it’s the reason of these increased showings that has us worried.”
Azriel supposed it was true. He had been showing up more – to social events that is. He was always present when it was just their inner circle, but the regular accepting of invitations to social events that didn’t need his presence was a new thing, something that you had gently insisted on since the two of you had become so close.
He was never one for meaningless interactions and had been pushing himself outside of his comfort zone for quite some time now by giving in every time you looked at him, pleading with those eyes of yours. He could never quite say no when you asked, and begged him, so nicely. But he nodded all the same to the two that he understood what they were trying to say, “I guess. I honestly didn’t think it was such a big deal. It makes her happy.”
“That’s the thing Az. Sure, it makes her happy. But does it make you?” Cass was trying, really trying not to say the wrong words and have this blow up in his face. Azriel thought for a moment, of all the times he’d watch you interact with others he didn’t even know the name of, never mind their importance to your work, while you linked your arm around his and had him trail along. He was always uncomfortable in the light, always wanting to slink back to the shadows. But you were the opposite, always blooming so lovely in the presence of everyone you deigned to offer your time to. He sometimes wished he could coddle you away from all their adoring eyes and have you all to himself. But he would never cage you like that.
“Not particularly. I do it for her, but sometimes I would rather sit at home while she goes about her work.” His admission was quiet, feeling that if he said it too loud it would carry on the wind and into your ear as you slept.
“What we’re trying to say, brother, is that spending your life with someone is all about compromise. You need to tell her when you don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable.” Since when has Cassian ever been so wise and all-knowing? He’d bet five gold marks Nesta had whipped that piece of sense into him after he’d thrown another of her books out the window, insisting on ‘a lovely stroll through Velaris’ instead. Azriel knew he was just jealous of the new male protagonist in her recent book series, garnering all her attention throughout the day.
But Cassian’s words had stuck in the back of his mind and refused to leave. Had he been compromising on his comfort for your own? You’d never pressed the issue with him, but he supposed he’d not put much of a front up against it in the past, agreeing almost immediately every time you’d asked for his company.
“You know I respect her and the work she does” Rhys had ordered another round as they settled in for the night of drinking ahead, “she’s one of the best at her job that I’ve ever seen, placating Eris is a testament to that. But she is intense, she has to be. I don’t want that to jeopardise you or your happiness with her in any way in the future. Putting up boundaries with her now is the best way to do that.”
Azriel knew his brothers had always had his best interest in their hearts when it came to things like this. Rhys’ intervention between him and Elain on Solstice years ago was a testament to that. He would have been hurt in a way he would never have come back from. Elain and Lucien’s bond was one of the strongest he’d ever seen – even rivalling that of Rhys and Feyre’s once given the chance. Then he’d met you. You had courted him from the minute you’d met, and he’d preened under the attention he’d longer centuries for. You weren’t his mate; no bond had snapped for him in the time he’d gotten to know you. But he’d worked past that and found that someone choosing to be with him purely of their own volition made it much harder to doubt whether he was worthy of you or not.
So, as they drank on, Azriel let their words mill over in his mind, finally agreeing with their concerns, and decided tomorrow he’d tell you how he really felt about all the parties you were asking him to attend.
Waking up to a hungover Azriel was a rare sight, but an amusing one none the less. You’d gone to bed last night early after reading a note he’d left, saying Rhys and Cass had asked him to drinks to catch up after being away for three months. You were upset, naturally, as you hadn’t seen him either during that time. But Azriel was a people pleaser, and he’d accepted their invitation with no qualms. So instead of wallowing in self-pity of not spending the first night with him back falling asleep in his arms, you had invited Mor and Feyre over to take your mind off it.
They’d left soon after midnight, Feyre wanting to get back to Nyx seeing as his father would be away most of the night. But all those sour feelings had left the second you’d awoken curled into his strong, tanned arms this morning.
Trying to shift in his hold, you’d felt him curl further into you with a groan, wing casting over the two of you to block the ray of sun peering in between the curtains. You laughed, sending a small gush of magic to pull it closed, cutting the bright light off. His hum of appreciation vibrated against your neck while you reached to play with the tresses of dark hair falling in front of his eyes. It was getting long again – which you preferred on him – but he’d cut it soon now that he was home.
“Good morning, love” you’d never tire of the purr the name elicited from the Illyrian warrior beside you, and it rumbled lowly as he reached into your touches further. “How were drinks with Cass and Rhys?”
“Long. Too long. Wanted to come home to you.” his voice, gods his voice. You loved it, the deep tones in the morning unlike anything else you’d ever heard.
“Yeah? I should have realised I’d need to rescue you, nab you back to have you all to myself.” One thing you’d realised in pursuing the Shadowsinger was his need for directness. His heart had been torn so many times that it wouldn’t beat for anything else. And you’d been more than happy to provide.
The morning was slow, full of sweetness and adoration you’d both been missing in his absence. Neither of you had been pressed to rise before noon until your stomach had grumbled its dislike of the lack of food. And so, you’d found yourselves sat at the small table in front of the windows overlooking Velaris, coffee and pastries in hand.
Azriel had woken from his drunken haze, and appeared caught in his own world, more so than usual as you noticed him missing the handle of his mug, for the second time. “Something on your mind, my love.”
His sigh was enough to know you wouldn’t like what he had to say, and your mind wandered to unpleasant thoughts of Rhys already assigning him to another mission far from home. “I swear on all that is good if that High Lord of yours assigned something else to you last nigh-”
“He hasn’t. And don’t forget he’s your High Lord also.” Azriel hated when you spoke against any decisions made by his family, which was rare. You were on the same page as them, mostly. But there were some things you disagreed strongly on. Not always living in Velaris had given you another taste of the world, and it faired well for you in your work here. But there were times when it caused temporary rifts between you and your friends, and you weren’t inclined to change if it could be solved with words instead of blades. But when it involved Azriel, you found yourself more and more inclined to picking up something sharp and slicing it into anything that wanted to steal him from you.
“We were… talking. Last night. About a couple things.” Azriel was not as sweet with words as his brother, but to see him lose them completely was new altogether. Putting the pieces together from the non-existent puzzle he’d left for you, you felt your breath hitch slightly, “About us?”
“Yeah…” you didn’t like this Azriel. The unsure and unconfident kind. He had a silent strength you’d admired since the first time you’d met. You’d fallen in love with the male that wasn’t this, and you hated seeing him act like anything lesser than he was.
“Azriel. Whatever it is, please speak to me about it. I want to know.” You’d moved from your chair, coming to sit on the side of his as you laid your hand next to his, letting him decide whether or not he wanted to take it. But the warmth that encased yours was comfort enough to know it wasn’t something that would break the two of you.
“I – don’t want to go to the – social events anymore.” Your brows pinched in confusion, where was this coming from? “Care to tell me why?”
“I’m not a fan of them. At all really. And I realised I was doing something that wasn’t making me happy. It made you happy, which I’m glad, but I can’t do it anymore. S’ too much.”
You watched Azriel retreat into himself at the admission, but you said nothing as you saw his gaze flicker over the room until it finally landed on you, searching for any anger, or hurt. “If you think I’m angry, I’m not. I understand what you mean, and I’m glad you could tell me.”
“You are?”
You huffed a laugh, “Yea, I am. So long as they’re your thoughts and not your brothers, right?” he nodded, “They are.”
“Okay, no more unnecessary social outings, for you at least. I’ll still have to attend them, considering.” He nodded again, “of course, I wouldn’t assume otherwise.”
You kissed him lightly as you made to get ready for the day, the conversation ending quicker then it began. These mornings were all you really had alone with him, both your professions taking up the rest of your days and swallowing the majority of the daylight- and twilight.
He’d winnowed soon after from the garden after kissing you goodbye, seeming lighter now that he’d voiced his discomfort, and you released a sigh you’d been holding since.
There was a party in three days, one you’d assumed Azriel would attend with you. But now that he’d expressed his feelings about them, you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Instead, you’d prepare yourself for the emotional and verbal onslaught to come without the Shadowsinger by your side.
You hated these things. Really, really hated them. being in a room full of fae looking to raise their status, their family name in the long list of nobles was always a tiring feet to be around, but it was a necessary evil to your work. Mor stood beside you in all her ethereal glory, and the pair of you looked nothing more than astounding. Emerie was somewhere in the crowd of people, charming her way through each table she rounded. You were sometimes envious of the support she lends to Mor at these times, the two made a good pair in these places, balancing the other out that lead to progress you would only dream of making in such short time.
But it seemed tonight all you would find for yourself was concealed and blatant admissions of fae asking about your seemingly juicy availability.
“Ladies, it’s an honour to have received an invitation to such a grand celebration, pray tell” the male who’d sauntered his way over to the two of you leered in you direction, “has the lovely lady finally been freed from her cage? Should I thank the Shadowsinger for his decision to set you free from you confines that is the Court of Nightmares?” You blanched at his obvious attempt but concealed it under a smile too easy that it felt tight, “I believe you’ve been fed the wrong fruit from the vine my lord, Azriel and I are still quite the pair. I do hope you don’t mean to sully his name when he is not here to defend himself?” your sinister pout had the blood leeching from the males cheeks, and he stuttered himself into a stupor until he could find his feet to walk quickly away.
Sighing, you grabbed a fresh glass of wine, the last going sour from the interaction. Mor’s head leaned to yours unceremoniously, “Mother, that’s the fifth one in the last hour! How often does this happen?”
“Any time Azriel isn’t with me. When he’s accompanied me in the past it stopped a lot of this for the most part. But with my reputation among the courts here and abroad, anyone will try to get their claws into the person holding the most honey pots.” You were feeling the effect of it much sooner than ever before, the mental strain making your mind lag. You’d really hoped Azriel would have been here tonight, but you couldn’t lean on his strength every time.
“That’s why you’ve been bringing him along…” something seemed to click with her. “You know he hates these things. But you wanted him here for support, for you.” You nodded without hesitation, confused as to why her face seemed so stricken by the knowledge.
“There’s something I have to tell you” Mor’s tone was sullen. As she explained, you listened and felt anger wash over you in gulfs. Oh, you were going to murder someone, and soon.
The following weeks after Azriel had admitted his feelings to you were…odd, to say the least. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. you had been the same as ever to him, loving and oh so understanding when it came to his every need. You didn’t press him to attend the gatherings you had to, opting to inform him instead of your departure. While you were gone, he would catch up on all the paperwork he had waiting, and by the time you came home, his arms would be open and waiting for you to fall into.
But something was still off. He felt it in the way your shoulders slumped more than they usually would after socialising all night. It was still taxing to you, but you had always smiled after when he had attended them with you. Now, you barely had enough energy to lift yourself from his hold, falling straight to sleep once he’d guided you to bed.
Those nights, when you’re too tired to tell him about your day, and instead just curl up against his side, Azriel thinks about the moments of when you’d first met.
Your connection to him was almost instantaneous, you’d follow him everywhere you could. The idle chatter you started with had eventually turned to long and deep conversations, sweeping him along into the early hours of the morning.
Your first kiss, when you’d found him after a more draining mission. You’d helped him bathe, nursing the tension from his back and mind with loving but firm touches to his skin. He’d turned to you in a burst of confidence and captured your mouth with his before he had anytime to think himself out of it. You’d melted into him almost instantly, and the rest had been a blur of tangled limbs and sheets.
The weeks after had been full of secret touches and longing looks, until Cassian had caught the two of you in a heated kiss after venturing to the kitchen for some late night tea. Always the one known for having loose lips, the whole house had known before Azriel could’ve knocked him unconscious, but you had laughed and squeezed his hand in reassurance, letting him know that you didn’t mind being claimed by him, if he were okay with you claiming him. No, he didn’t mind that at all.
Gods, he had been in heaven ever since. Having someone to come home to, to reach for in the long family dinner when before he had to watch the mated couples around him stare adoringly at one another. He now had someone to call his own, and he was so glad it was you.
But you seemed to be getting worse as the weeks rolled on, and he couldn’t quite understand why, until Rhysand pulled him into his office.
“She’s taking a leave of absence from her position.” Azriel’s world spun on the wrong axis as he processed the words coming from his brother’s mouth.
“She hasn’t spoken to you about this?” he shook his head, mind spiralling as to why you’d do something like this. You loved your job, more than anything. It gave you a purpose, something to give back to the world.
Cassian ventured in not long after, seeming to already know what was going on, “you’re not communicating again. Azriel, this is gonna really affect your-”
“Affect his what, Cassian?”
The three of the bristled at the sharpness of your tone. Azriel cast his gaze over you. Your eyes seemed darkened by a tiredness that hadn’t been there until a few weeks ago. Even your posture, always one to hold your head high, looked slumped against Mor and Feyre, who stood behind you.
“I was just saying that you both should talk a bit more about-”
“Oh, I’m sure you have a lot of comments on what me and my mate should talk about.”
Azriel stopped.
Everything stopped.
Your- your what?
You sighed, your admission seeming to go amiss amongst the thoughts swirling in you mind, but Azriel couldn’t comprehend how you’d said something like that so…so… casually.
“Azriel, Can I speak to Rhysand and Cassian – alone?” he didn’t feel himself answer, but Mor and Feyre seemed to understand and guided him into the hallway, where the three of them waited with baited breath to hear the onslaught you’d ensue. It wasn’t a secret, how much you detested some of the decisions they made in this court. Hels, you had even come to Eris’ defense more than once during the time of the alliance to put him on the Autumn throne. But this was different, and he knew it deep in his bones.
Mate. You’d called him your mate. But there was no bond. Nothing had snapped in all the time you had known each other. He loved you, infinitely. but that had been a choice you had both made in all that you had gone through, not for some fate woven between you.
“I know, it’s a lot to take in” it was Feyre, “I think we should sit down, get some tea while we wait until they’re finished.”
So the three of them walked away from the voices on the other side of the door, and made for Feyre’s studio.
“You two need to butt out, now.” You were fuming, white hot rage consumed you as you looked to the grown males in front of you. But they weren’t acting like that, not in all the time you’d known them.
“You-you called Az your mate?”
Shit. Had you? Oh gods he was probably going insane with the thoughts in his head. No wonder he hadn’t answered you. How were you going to explain hiding something so profound from him for as long as you’d known each other.
“What of it.” you were snapping now. You don’t ever snap. That was your charm, ever the collected one, no matter what. But gods they had stuck their noses where it didn’t belong. And you detested it.
The statement had seemed to shut the two of the up quite quickly, so you continued, happy for the lack of interruption. “I understand you’re looking out for Az; I do. But this is getting to the point where it’s ridiculous. Have you ever considered the weight in which Az holds your words? They’re like gospel to him.”
“We were just trying to help, nothing more.” You snorted as the High Lord’s words. Feyre and Mor have known of your secret since you met Azriel, but it seemed the two of them have truly kept it privy to your circle of three.
“Have you ever thought, for a second, that maybe sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong does more damage than good?” you were breaking now, the emotions you had welled up the past while cresting. “I wasn’t asking Azriel to those gatherings because I wanted him out of his comfort zone. Gods, I know he detests them.”
“Then why did you?”
“Because I needed him. It’s not easy listening to fae ask about your hand in marriage while your mate sits happily at home.”
You took a breath as the two said nothing more. “I came here to tell you that my leave was because I was overwhelmed. It’s a lot sometimes, even for me. And I hadn’t gotten a lot of time with Az without interruption since we met. I was going to tell you both today, about… the predicament. But it seems I’ve let the cat out of the bag, claws and all.”
Gods, how were you going to explain this to him? You’ve kept him in the dark for months. He’ll never forgive you.
“We-acknowledge our misstep. We truly didn’t mean to hurt you, or Azriel. And for that I apologise, for us both.” Rhys’ face was sullen enough for your anger towards the two wash away, and you nodded. “Believe me, you’re not the one who’s hurt him.”
With nothing else to say, you made for the door. Cassian’s voice stopping you just as you reached for the handle, “Just, make sure you get him to listen. He’ll go into his head, and its not a good place.”
You nodded.
“I know.”
There will be a Part II
#acotar#azriel angst#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel x reader#rhysand#a court of thorns and roses#azriel#azriel acotar#mor acotar#fem reader#azriel x female!reader#feyre archeron
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Beyond The Veils of Dreams
Just gonna drop a little something and run
A/N: I haven't written in so long so this is kinda like practice to get back into things, English is not my first language so pls bare with me, I might be making this into a series but I'm yet unsure as I don't know where I might take it. Btw it's pretty short lol Enjoy!
Warning: Smut, slightly dark azriel?, bit of sadism if you blink, azzie being possessive.
Scared hands wrapped tightly around her throat, sending sharp pleasant chills down to her very core. He harshly rolls his hips against her moving with a certain precision that knocks the breath right out of her. Her incoherent pleas made the male behind her chuckle with sadistic glee as he witnessed her unravel before him, finally submitting into the claws of his darkness.
eyes encased in utter dark lust as he took her for the fifth time that night, Azriel had made sure that his name was the only words that remained in his dearest mate’s head, the thought of anything else but his name in her mind brought uncontrollable anger in him. He had waited far too long and he will make sure that his punishment will hunt her for the rest of their days for making a mockery out of him.
How dare she hide herself from him knowing full well they had been mates, after the amount of times she had heard how much he wanted one. how he CRAVE one, and to think she was hiding right beneath his nose all this time.
Azriel growled as pleasure spread and blinded his senses, he slammed right into her depths, causing his sweet princess to cry out into the darkened walls of his bedchamber, he couldn’t get enough of her, she was a drug he couldn't let go off, sweet euphoria that plagued his thoughts as he came undone over and over again. Just the mere sinful sight of her cunt wrapped around his cock and him slamming into her brought such rapture that Azriel couldn’t wait to take her all over again.
“ A Az..” she whimpered and he moaned so loud in response he swore the whole house could hear him, gods hearing his name come out of her pretty lips almost made him cum right then and there.
“ Azriel!”
He closed his eyes letting the music of his mate moaning his name echo through his soul.
“ Azriel! Wake up!”
he frowned, confused as to why her voice slightly changed, but he didn’t stop his ramming hips, no he was close, pleasure nearly hitting pure unadulterated euphoria. He was so close.
“ Azriel!!”
Azriel gasped and jolted upward
“ Jeez you really need to sleep more, gods you look a mess did you have a nightmare?” he blinked, surprised at Mor's appearance and at the blinding sunlight coming from the window. His shadows had hidden beneath his blanket displeased by the light that shot straight into the room and the culprit that had open curtains.
The blond hair fae ignored the angry shadows and frowned at him in worry, mor moved forward to lay her hand on his forehead and worry graze her features as she took in his disheveled appearance.
“ cauldron you’re burning, I’ll let Cass know you’ll miss training, why don't you get a shower while I get something for that fever.” Mor walked out of his room mumbling about how rare it was for him to become ill and slammed the door behind her, leaving the Illyrian male to sink in the shocking dream he had been awoken from. he wiped a hand down his face and took a shaky breath, thoughts finally clicking into place.
Why the hell was Azriel having a wet dream about Y/n Acheron?
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AAAAHH
#sarah j maas#acotar#acotar 5#acotar 6#helion spell cleaver#helion acotar#lucien vanserra#azriel#cassian#morrigan#mor acotar#rhysand#feyre archeron
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Rhysand: Nesta, don’t let anyone treat you like an option
Nesta: wow that’s actually really nice of you to say
Rhysand: you’re inevitable - a horror beyond comprehension, an omen, a threat
Nesta:
#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#a court of thorns and roses#acotar imagine#acotar memes#azriel#azriel x reader#cassian#cassian x reader#feyre archeron#sarah j maas#nesta x reader#nesta archeron#nesta#mor#pro gwynriel#gwynriel#pro elain#eris acotar#elain archeron#a court of wings and ruin#funny acotar#incorrect acotar quotes#acotar imagines#acotar#cassian x you#feyre x reader#rhysand x reader#feyre x rhysand#rhysand
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'HIGH' PRAISE (AZRIEL X READER)
I am on a roll damn. Another idea that I jotted down as quick as I could. Enjoy !!
Summary: Mirthroot and alcohol can work in your favour sometimes. You have a very interesting conversation with Azriel.
Warnings : Mention of substances, mild swearing. MDNI !
"You are a saviour Y/N." Mor said taking a hit from the mirthroot joint. The party was in full swing downstairs but you and Mor had found solace in her balcony.
"Don't thank me. Thank the male who was nice enough to give it up." you said taking your turn.
The lightness in your head was making you giddy and talkative. You could feel the slight tingle at your nerve ends, you body feeling detached from reality.
"He probably wanted to get into your pants."
"I know."
Mor let out a bark of laughter at that statement and leaned back against the wall. Her eyes had taken on a reddish tinge and you were sure that yours were probably worse. Your mouth felt numb and you smacked your lips cringing at the dryness of your mouth.
"I need something to drink. And eat. Chocolate cake sounds good. Chocolate cake with a side of yoghurt sounds even better. Add some good wine to it. What do you think?" your mind was moving too fast for your mouth to catch up to.
"It sounds terrible. Let's do it." You and Mor giggled clutching each others hands. That was some really strong mirthroot.
You made your way back to the party hyper focusing on every step being taken. Being high and face planting did not seem like a good combination. Your brain was a different entity, screaming at you to act normal. It was a party for fucks sake. Who acts normal anyways?
Grabbing Mor's hand , the both of you made your way over to the drinks table dodging your way through familiar faces. You refused to speak to anyone until you got your hands on the wine.
After chugging down half a bottle to quench your thirst, you noticed Azriel sitting with another male chatting about something.
"Mor."
"Yeah?"
"I think Azriel and I would make a fantastic couple."
The shattering of glass snapped you out of your hyper focused state for a beat.
It wasn't Mor.
Oh.
Back to hyper focused state.
"You would." she responded , a completely serious expression gracing her face.
"Should we tell him?" you asked, an illegal amount of bravery shooting through your veins. Not a single cell in your body thought this was a bad idea.
A new wave of idiocy hit you. The effects of the wine and mirthroot combined were doing wonders for your sanity right now.
"We should. Come on." This time, Mor was the one dragging you through the crowd, once again dodging everyone.
"Az!"
He turned to look at Mor, his own slightly glazed from the amount of alcohol he had consumed.
"Y/N thinks---"
The male that was speaking to Azriel stood up and interrupted Mor, asking for a dance. Immediately forgetting why she was there, Mor walked away with him leaving you with Azriel.
"What do you think?" Az asked, his voice husky. Ugh, it was doing strange things to you.
"I think---"
"Are you high?" Az asked, holding in his laugh.
"Az you idiot. You never ask someone who's high if they're high. Way to ruin it!"
"Okay my bad. Sorry. Come here."
He motioned to the space next to him on the couch.
"No. No. I have chocolate cake plans. I just wanted to let you know that I think...and Mor thinks as well...that we would make a fantastic couple. I mean look at you. Look at me. Stunners. Jaw droppingly good looking. What's stopping us?"
Az looked thoroughly amused as you continued defending your statement.
"Y/N." he said stopping you before you went off on a different tangent. "Come here." This time he motioned to his lap.
Yeah chocolate cake could wait.
You went over and sat down sideways on his lap, wrapping you arms around his shoulders while his hands found their place on your hips.
"Tomorrow, I want you to come to me and tell me the same thing. Then we'll see how well this fantastic couple thing works out yeah?"
He touched his forehead to yours , the affectionate gesture bringing a grin to your face.
"Okay."
"Good girl. Now come on let's get you some chocolate cake."
"Fantastic."
#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#acotar series#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#azriel x reader#acomaf#azriel fic#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel spymaster#azriel series#mor acotar#morrigan#azriel fluff#shadowsinger x reader
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The inner circles whore
Plot: You were hired to have sex with the members of Rhysand’s inner circle whenever they are stressed.
These are going to be interconnected stand-alone one-shots. Message me who you would like for me to write about first. (It goes without saying the ship names listed mean those will be threesomes)
Prologue
Azriel
Rhysand
Cassian
Nessian
Feysand
Feyre
Mor
Nesta
Elain
Amren
Elriel
#rhysand x reader#feyre x reader#cassian x reader#nesta x reader#nessian x reader#azriel x reader#elain x reader#elriel x reader#mor x reader#amren x reader
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A Court of Thorns and Roses Characters
Artist: @/eburnsillustrations
#feysand#feyre archeron#rhysand#nessian#nesta archeron#cassian#elriel#elain archeron#azriel#amren#mor#morrigan#lucien vanserra#tamlin#bat boys#archeron sisters#acotar#sjmaas
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The Inner Circle in the heat of battle
Azriel, trying to warn about the location of the enemy: To the left!
Cassian: Take it back now y'all!
Mor: One hop this time!
Rhys: You're all fired.
#rhysand#rhys#morrigan acotar#mor#cassian#cassian acotar#azriel#azriel shadowslinger#cassian x azriel#the bat boys#the inner circle#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acosf#acofas#incorrect acotar quotes#funny acotar#acotar memes#a court of thorns and roses#a court of wings and ruin#a court of frost and starlight#a court of mist and fury#a court of silver flames#acotar funny
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“JUST ONE MORE, I KNOW YOU CAN DO IT.”
⋆˙⟡ pairing: rhysand x reader, inner circle makes an appearance , madja makes an appearance
⋆˙⟡ summary: feeling ready to finally have kids, you tell rhys who is over the moon. madja gives you a special tea to help boost ovulation. how does that turn out for you?
⋆˙⟡ warnings: a fuckton of smut, fluff, rhys cries, so does reader, breeding, aphrodisiacs ( i think ), boosting tea, pregnancy, pregnancy smut ig, Big dick daddy construction worker Rhys😍😍, protective rhys like super protective, obsession and possession. Rhys develops a new obsession with reader🤷🏽♀️
⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i need a break. holy fuck. also, can i go next🧎🏽♀️ Plus english isn’t my first language so if there’s any errors or mistakes, i’m sorry😭💗
“is that what you’ll be teaching our children, darling? To be snappy when someone asks you something?”
Rhysand took great pleasure in provoking a reaction from you. Your day had been rough, with even the slightest annoyances causing you to snap at him. From criticizing his breakfast chewing to berating his small handwriting in his reports, your frustration peaked when rhys playfully teased, leading you to unleash a stream of unpleasant words.
And now, he was dangerously close to you kicking him out of your bedroom. You stood there, making the bed with him on the other side as you tucked in the sheets on either side.
“Fuck off, Rhys. I'm teaching my kids that their father holds the title for being the most annoying ass in Prythian's history. They'll also be well-informed about your love for relentless teasing. I'll caution them to steer clear, as mommy doesn't want them influenced by your habit of being an annoying provocateur,” you flashed him a fake smile before tugging the sheets from his hands.
His laughter resonated through the room as he threw his head back, closing the distance with a confident step. Looking you up and down, he met you face to face, his eyes filled with mirth and a touch of affection.
“Let's pray to the Mother that they don't inherit your bratty behavior,” he teased, flicking your nose, enjoying your reaction.
“And yes, before you can come up with some crude insult, you're without a doubt the most pouty, bratty, headstrong person I've ever encountered.” His smile held a mix of playfulness and genuine fondness.
“I should feel insulted, but strangely, I don't,” you admitted with a smile. Playfully ushering him back to his side of the bed, you continued fixing the sheets, ready to settle in for the night.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Lying awake, Rhys's words echoed in your mind. The thought of having children together stirred a mix of excitement and doubt. The responsibilities of being the high lord and high lady of the Night Court loomed large, and the question of balancing it with parenthood lingered. Despite the uncertainties, a deep yearning surfaced – a want to put more focus on kids and maybe ease of the work load.
Unable to sleep, you chose to scoot closer to your mate as you put your head on his pillow, running your hand through his hair and finding comfort in the rhythm of his shallow breathing.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The bell chimed as you entered Madja's clinic, finding it empty. You weren't supposed to be there; you had told Rhys you weren't feeling well to avoid going to the Hewn City with him. He grew concerned and insisted on staying, but after some persuasion, he reluctantly left. Now, you had the perfect opportunity to visit the healer in secret.
“Hello? Madja, are you here?”Your voice echoed in the empty clinic. After a long pause, you turned to leave, but just as you did, Madja opened a door, wearing gloves and a mask, looking confused.
“Y/n? What are you doing here? Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” You all loved Madja deeply as she was like a second mother to everyone. She expressed concern, worry evident in her eyes. You reassured her, mentioning that nothing was wrong. She nodded, explaining she had a patient and would be done in a few minutes. Madja suggested making yourself some tea and taking a seat while you waited.
After a while, Madja finished with her patient and led you into her office. She took her place behind the big table, and you sat in front of her, ready for whatever conversation lay ahead.
“What can I help you with today?”
Taking a deep breath, you opened up about your desires. “I wish to get pregnant, and I wanted to know if there's anything to know beforehand. My grandmother was Illyrian, so I think I could carry the babe, but is there any more information I should know about?”
Your words hung in the air, waiting for Madja's guidance.
A warm smile graced Madja's face as she took your hand.
“Congratulations, I'm so happy for you. Fae pregnancies are rare, and it might take a few years of trying before you see any results. Don't get discouraged; it's normal, and it generally takes a few decades for couples to be blessed with a babe. But let me check your bones to see if you're ideal for pregnancy.” Madja's hands emitted a golden glow as she held yours, assuring you that your bones were indeed a match and that you would be able to carry your and Rhysand's children.
You thanked her with a hug and stood up, ready to leave to tell Rhysand that you were ready. But you were still nervous about how long it would take. Decades seemed like a long time and you just hoped you wouldn’t get disappointed in yourself.
Madja seemed to sense your sprialing thoughts and directed you to the medicine room. She handed you a packet of some sort or herb or leaf. You looked at her with confusion asking her what this was.
Madja explained, “It's a special tea made to boost ovulation. Both of you should drink it before trying, but I have to warn you, it does have side effects. The tea activates a primal need, making you both feel like the first day of the mating bond. There will be possession and jealousy, and a strong chance of fighting unwanted guests. Some patients of mine have almost killed someone because their mates were looked at too long. Males typically get very possessive during conception so don’t be surprised if he snaps at someone who’s too close. So, again, only do this when you're alone.”
The gravity of her words settled in as she outlined the potential intensity of the tea. You nod thanking her again before winnowing back to the house.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Rhysand was pissed off and tired as fuck. The entire night was a mess, thanks to the annoying council. He toyed with the idea of going back and killing them all but thought checking on you might be a better move. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him, and irritation etched deep lines on his face.
Rhysand walked into the house, absentmindedly unbuttoning his shirt until he halted in his tracks as he passed the kitchen. Something caught his attention, and he turned, curious about what was happening.
Rhysand was taken aback by what he saw. There you were, clad in tank top and shorts, preparing food in the middle of the night. He thought you were seriously unwell, given that you couldn't get out of bed earlier. Worried, he approached,
“Love, what are you doing up? Please, let me take you back to bed. I'll finish it up and bring it to you, okay?”
You warmly smiled at his concern but shook your head. “I'm fine, baby. I'm not sick. I'll explain everything. Just sit down at the table, and I'll be there in a minute.”
He raised his brow and you with amusement,
“So, you just didn’t want to go to the meeting? You should have told me; we could have skipped together. They were driving me crazy today. Kier wanted a higher position, Lord Orlon wanted more money, and everyone just wanted more and more and more.” His frustration with the incessant demands from the council echoed in his words.
You couldn’t help feeling guilty at the weariness in his eyes, you pouted and stepped closer, standing between his legs. Gently, you brought his head to your chest, cradling and kissing it. His arms wrapped around your middle immediately as you cooed comforting words, offering solace in the warmth of your embrace while stroking his hair gently.
“Aww, I'm so sorry, honey. I promise I'll never let you go alone. What can I do to cheer you up?”
He raised his head, mischief in his eyes, and his hands roamed up your tank top, grazing your waist and the sides of your boobs.
“I can think of something that'll earn you my forgiveness.” His playful tone sparked heat in you and you almost lost focus as you entertained the thought of Rhys’s offer. But you shook your head and smirked at him.
“Did you forget I had something to tell you? You’re quite insatiable, you know?”
He slumped his head on your chest, planting a kiss on the covered area as he warmly chuckled. Drawing you closer, he settled you in his lap, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. Rhys gazed up at you with enchanting deep violet eyes, their subtle twinkle a sight you adored.
Inhaling deeply, you contemplated ripping off the bandaid. It should be fine, right? He's always discussed future children, their names, rules for them, etc. Yet, despite everything, a touch of nerves crept in.
Rhys, sensing your hesitation, securely gripped your waist, assuring you that you could share anything with him.
“Rhys, sweetheart, I'm ready to officially try for children. Are you on board? I know you've talked about wanting kids, but is it still something you still want-”
Rhysand embraced you tenderly, tears of joy gliding down his cheeks. He buried his tear-streaked face in the warmth of your neck, softly murmuring his heartfelt thanks, each word carrying a sweetness only you could inspire.
His tears triggered an emotional response in you, prompting happy tears to well up as you smiled tenderly at him.
“It would be my highest honor to have children with you, my love.”
Rhys kissed you, chuckling, drawing you closer and peppering tiny kisses all over your face, eliciting joyful laughter from you.
“While you were away, I chatted with Madja, and she shared some tips about conceiving. She mentioned it might take a bit, so she's advising not to worry if it doesn't happen right away. She even gave me this special tea that's supposed to boost ovulation and help speed up the process. What do you say we give it a shot tomorrow or tonight?”
Rhys grinned mischievously, “Well, it's a bit surprising I haven’t already gotten you pregnant, but I guess Madja's tea might just be the secret ingredient we need.”
“I agree, Mr. Cocky, your charms might need a backup plan.” Your smile wavered as he got closer to your neck, and it completely faltered when he gently blew air on your neck before giving a playful bite.
You trembled, grabbing rhys’s shoulders to steady yourself as he kept nipping lower and lower. He palmed your tits through your thin tank, pulling and pinching on your nipples, marvelling at your scrunched up face of pleasure.
His finger moved to trail down the arch of your back while he unwrapped your legs from around his waist.
“Let's free you from these,” he murmured, gently hooking your shorts by the elastic and sliding them down to your thighs. Granting you a brief moment, he allowed you space to stand and shimmy them down to your feet, casting them aside with a tender ease.
Your confirmation to having kids flipped a switch in his brain. Numerous times had you stopped by nurseries to admire the cute babies, helped lost children find their mothers in the town square, babysat for your friends that had kids. Rhysand’s mind was filled with you carrying your child on your hip, you and him sitting down teaching them everything they needed to learn.
The mere thought of getting you full of his children, your heirs and the fact that you would carry your children, made him impossibly hard. You belonged to him, and soon, the world would see the evidence in your growing belly. It was his way of making sure everyone knew he had claimed you for good, in the most intimate and lasting manner possible.
Rhysand gazed up at you, his eyes veiled by thick lashes, filled with a darkened desire. His pupils dilated, larger than you'd ever seen, revealing the intensity of the lust that consumed him.
“I’m going to get you nice and knocked up by the end of the month, fuck what Madja said. I’m putting a baby in you soon enough, don’t worry about a thing. Just lay down and let me work on it, what do you say, sweetheart?”
His raspy, desperate voice sent cold shivers down your spine and arm. You mindlessly nod, begging for him to start.
“ Please, baby… make me a mother…” you ask so sweetly and nicely, rhys could never say no to you.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Throughout that night, the following morning, and the entire subsequent day, Rhysand kept you awake, leaving little room for sleep. In the span of those days, you only paused for food, as he fucked you to the edge of insanity. Perhaps you should have considered that you'd chosen the most powerful man in history as your baby daddy— of course he’d have no trouble fulfilling his task with relentless success.
Rhys's eyes had darkened with a singular focus – getting you pregnant. He worshipped your body, treating you like a deity with every touch, as if you were the subject of his devoted prayers.
He had stopped for maybe half an hour to research the most ideal positions for baby making and had put you in them atleast twice, much to your exhaustion and pleasure.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Reluctantly, you both knew you couldn't remain secluded from your responsibilities forever. The rulers of the court could only be inaccessible for a limited time, forcing you to eventually confront the outside world.
“Baby, we need to go soon, remember?” You found yourself trapped between his sturdy arms, lying beneath him on the soft bed with your legs wrapped around his middle. His kisses on your neck and grew more intense, leaving behind a trail of increasingly visible bruises.
Expressing disapproval with a sound, he playfully nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck, eliciting a mix of laughter and a gasp from you simultaneously.
Rhysand absolutely hated the idea of leaving the haven of warmth and love you two had created. He cherished the solitude you shared, not wanting to face the world's challenges.
All he wanted was to stay wrapped up in the tender embrace of his mate, savoring the moments of closeness and hoping for a future filled with just the two of you.
“Darling, I'd ditch the whole Night Court for a bit more of your love. The outside world's a drag compared to your warmth. What do you say we skip the ruling and responsabilities and keep our own little haven, just the two of us?”
Summoning the will to decline felt nearly impossible; you genuinely, sooo badly, really didn't want to leave the room until everything was done. Explaining your perspective to him, you made a deal that if you both tackled just dinner first, you'd be all his afterward. With reluctance, he got up, the two of you quickly freshened up, taking a hot shower and got dressed for dinner with your friends.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Making your way to the dining room, you were met by Cassian with a teasing grin,
“Well, well, well. Look who decided to rejoin the land of the living. I was starting to think you'd built a permanent nest in there. Ready for the real world or still basking in the afterglow?”
Catching a glimpse of Rhysand's impassive expression, it was clear he was beyond unamused as his eyes zeroed in on Cassian. You knew him well enough to sense that Cassian's continued teasing might push him to snap, especially considering his reluctance to be outside with the others now that he was trying to put a baby on you.
“Cass, I wouldn’t. Let's just enjoy the meal,” you said, clapping your hands with an exaggerated smile. Taking Rhysand by the hand, you guided him to the table, hoping to diffuse any tension and shift the focus to the meal.
You stuck to him like glue, even following him when he stood to get another bottle of wine. Sitting on another chair was out of the question. Instead, you made yourself comfortable in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You purred at his warmth and safety, wondering why the hell you even accepted this dinner in the first place. You'd much rather stay under warm covers in your bed with him by your side.
In these past few days, Rhysand had become remarkably possessive aswell. Normally unfazed by casual gestures from friends like hugs or pats on the shoulder, he surprised himself. When you and Azriel reached for the salt at the same time, Rhysand instinctively pulled you back, narrowing his eyes at Az as if marking his territory.
Azriel, ever perceptive, observed the tension, smiled to himself and wisely chose not to escalate the situation. He sensed a new energy surrounding you both, noticing how much you clung to each other. He nodded toward the salt, indicating you should take it first, showing he had the sense not to get in the middle of whatever was transpiring between you and Rhysand. It was something Cassian would usually dive headfirst into. The guy had a knack for finding trouble, and Azriel clearly wanted no part in it.
The dinner proceeded with everyone staying clear from you and Rhys. Usually, you'd playfully scold him for being overly possessive, telling him to ease up on the overbearing bat act. However, you relished in his attention and protective demeanor. Madja had told you this would happen but you didn’t realize it would apply to your family.
Right, Madja. You had almost forgotten about the tea she'd given you, the one to speed up the pregnancy process. With your friends leaving after dinner, whether they wanted to or not, it seemed like the perfect time to test it out.
Gazing at Rhysand beside you, you communicated your thoughts silently, begging him to try the tea out with you and then going back to your previous activities. He nodded in understanding. Sitting up straight, he glanced at everyone.
“I need all of you leave, right now,” he stated calmly, sipping his drink with the usual nonchalance.
Everyone paused mid-chew, glancing at Rhysand with confusion. Azriel swiftly vanished into his shadows, and Amren departed without so much as a goodbye. Mor and Cassian remained, bewildered, as they questioned the sudden disruption.
“What? Why? I'm not even done eating,” Mor protested.
Rhysand narrowed his eyes, flicking his hand and cleared the table.
"There. I moved everything to your own table in your apartment. Now, get out," he gritted, and they hurriedly made their exit, with Cassian managing a loud laugh before leaving.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The kettle's whistle grew louder as you were lost in Rhysand's lips. Seated on the table, his arms on either side of you, the moment was pure delight, your hands traveling his body as you toyed with the waistband of his pants. The whistle became unbearable, forcing you to reluctantly break the kiss as you sighed and made your way to brew the tea. The leaves, red and golden, intensified in color as you poured the boiling water in.
“Darling, that looks deceptively inviting. Like it would lure us in with its pretty colors and then make our hearts stop,” he joked, joining you and wrapping his arms around your shoulders, playfully holding you in a mock chokehold.
“Huh, deceptively inviting... sounds a lot like someone I know,” you teased, lazily kissing the strong forearm wrapped around your throat. His laughter resonated, his chest rumbling, and you felt the vibrations, savoring the moment.
He kissed your temple before letting you go, guiding you back to the table to drink the tea. Both of you nodded in agreement before simultaneously downing the concoction. The taste left you both with a disgusted expression as you placed the empty cups back on the table.
“That tastes like shit. Did Madja say what it was made of?”
You scrunched your face at the aftertaste before replying,
“I find it best not to ask her anymore. Remember the time she had us all eating that soup with fermented fish guts as a cure for that winter fever?”
You shudder at the memory of everyone lying in the hospital, with Madja taking care of the lot of you. It dawned on you that she was feeding you stuff that would've made you even sicker if you found out then. The taste of the mysterious tea was the least of your worries compared to Madja's unconventional remedies.
Rhysand shook his head at the unpleasant memory,
“You’re right. I’d rather not know.”
You giggled at his words, before standing up and putting the cups in the sink. Turning around, you looked at Rhysand with a tilted head, wondering if he was feeling anything because you certainly weren’t.
“Rhysie, are you feeling anything? I’m not sure if it’s taking extra long for the tea to activate or something but I’m not feeling anything yet.”
Rhysand raised an eyebrow, pondering your words for a moment.
“Honestly, I don’t feel any different either. Maybe it's just a placebo effect or Madja's way of amusing herself with our reactions. Either way, we'll survive it.”
You nodded at his words, yes that made sense.
“Okay, let’s go to my office and catch up on some reports while we wait for the effects to kick in.”
You both headed to your office, the boring tasks providing a welcome distraction while the mysterious tea's potential effects lingered in the background. As you delved into work, the anticipation of what might unfold kept a subtle excitement in the air.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
An hour in Rhysand was starting to feel uncomfortable. His forehead and neck was starting to feel warm and he mindlessly unbuttoned the first buttons of his shirt for some extra cooling.
You on the other hand still felt nothing, if anything, you started feeling very sleepy, eyelids heavy as you tried blinking back the tiredness that washed over you.
“I’m feeling really tired, rhys. Can you take me upstairs?” your voice was low and laced with sleep, complete opposite of your mate.
Not being able to find his voice, he stood up from the chaise, his movements more desperate, and walked over to you before bending down and picking you up.
Something that should've been a mundane task.
However, this time he couldn’t help but notice the difference in size, how easy he could pick you up in his arms, how your boobs moved under your shirt, the way the curve of your ass pressed against him with every move, the softness of your skin and the intoxicatingly sweet smell of you. A low, suppressed growl vibrated through him as he tightened his hold, relishing the warmth and unmistakable presence of his mate.
A possessive and obsessive surge overwhelmed him as he held you, an intoxicating certainty that you belonged to him, and he had earned every inch of your love and affection.
Rhysand was utterly obsessed with you, he showed in the way he was watching you like a hawk while he put you down on the soft bed, tucking you under a blanket.
Rhys knelt by the bed, his gaze fixed on your sleeping form. His pupils dilated so much, transforming the familiar violet of his eyes into a dark, almost black shade. His face and chest had taken on a dark shade of blush, as blood rushed to his cock at the sight of your peaceful form.
He couldn’t look away when you turned around, blanket having rolled up, showing him the lenght of your legs, so smooth and soft, Normally, the sight wouldn’t have made him behave like some sort of teenager seeing a girls tits for the first time and it made him feel like a disgusting pervert. Here his mate laid, unaware that he was lusting over something as juvenile as her leg.
Deep down, he didn’t really care. Rhysand felt like he was on top of the world.
Waves of pleasure surged through him, heightening his senses and intensifying every touch and sensation, the feeling of the sheets against his palms sent electric waves through his body. The world around him seemed to shimmer with and a blissful euphoria enveloped him, creating an intoxicating sensation that left him utterly captivated.
You stirred, sensing Rhys kneeling by the bed. As you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of him, his gaze locked on your sleeping form. His eyes, once a familiar violet, now darkened to a deep, almost black hue.
The effects of the tea finally kicked in, and your body responded with waves of pleasure. Your heartbeat quickened, the world around you blurring into a hazy backdrop as you fixated on the rhythmic sound of Rhysand's heavy breaths. A searing warmth pooled in the lower part of your stomach, almost like molten lava, urging you to clench your legs, all while a whimper threatened to escape your lips.
Feeling overwhelmed, you sought relief in the bathroom, flinging off the blanket and splashing cold water on your face and chest. Bracing yourself on the sink, you took a few deep breaths before returning to your room. As you opened the door, eyes lowered, you collided with something soft yet firm. Looking up, you found Rhysand, gazing at you with a tilted head, as if studying you like a puzzle.
“Oh, hi baby, didn’t see-”
Before you could finish the sentence, he pounced on you, grabbing the back of your head as he crushed your lips against his. Your eyes widened in surprise, hands instinctively grabbing his biceps to steady yourself.
His other hand wrapped around your waist, forcefully pulling your body towards him, leaving no room for any space. As his front pressed against yours, you felt his hard erection poking at your stomach.
A desperate need for more coursed through your veins like a wildfire, the tea intensifying every sensation. Your nipples tightened, craving his touch with an almost primal hunger. In his arms, you practically melted at his animalistic touch.
It all felt so fucking good, you thought you’d come just by kissing him. You moaned loudly when he started licking and kissing your neck, gently biting your earlobe before going back to giving you hickies.
Tears formed in your eyes as you brought a hand down your panties, hoping to relieve yourself before it got too much, however frustration filled you as your efforts were wasted. No matter how much you rutted against your fingers, it wasn’t enough. If only made you more needy and frustrated.
“no, t’s not working, please mate, please touch me. need you so badly”
Your tears eventually fell as you whined, face covered in salty tears as you begged your man for more, more of him, more of anything.
The desperation in your voice prompted Rhysand to pick you up and drag you to bed, gently pushing you into it. He swiftly undressed before pulling you towards the edge of the bed by your ankles, ripping of whatever clothes you had on. An animalistic move if anything but it made you even more wet.
“We’re not fucking leaving until I get you pregnant. I need you nice and round, filled with my cum, do you understand?“
His words were gritted, as if he was holding himself back, restrained by an invisible force.
You nodded, desperate for him.
“Please, let me make you a daddy.”
With a low rumbling growl he throws your legs over his shoulders and ruts into you so hard, the entire bed starts shaking. He bullies his big cock in you as you squirm, trying to initially get away as if you’ve never been fucked by him before. Rhys doesn’t slow down because he knows you can take it, he knows that you’re his equal, made for him as he is for you. And when you beg him to go harder he only smiles wickedly, satisfied that he knows you inside and out.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
You don’t remember know how many times he has finished in you.
You're crying uncontrollably and struggling to breathe. Rhysand gives you a gentle smile and plants a kiss on your swollen lips. His cock throbs at that fucked out expression in your eyes, and he has to look away to avoid blowing his load too soon. His mouth tucks itself into the curve of your neck. Your skin slapping continues as those quick thrusts fill the room.
If he didn’t have his hands around your legs to keep them up, they’d have fallen down ages ago. Your whole body feels loose and sloppy, a stupid, fucked out smile on your face as your teary eyes roll back in pleasure.
“Shhh, baby it’s okay. Let me fill you up again. I promise it will feel so, so good.”
You nod absentmindedly as you both come for the umpteenth time.
He was paying close attention to how your hole tightened around him, his sloppy thrusts making the white ring around the base of his dick drip with even more cum.
“You’re so fucking good to me, baby. Gonna look so pretty with your belly all round with my babies.”
His head was thrown back, eyebrows scrunched and jaw slightly dropped as he slowly thrusted in and out, milking the high before he pulled out and slumped forward, making you whine at the feeling. His sweaty body rested on top of yours, and his head lay on your rising and falling chest. His hair was damp, and with a shaking hand, you ran your fingers through it.
“I’ll clean you up in a second, darling.” Just as he was getting up you wrapped your legs around his waist. He scooped you up, arm around your ass as he brought you to the shower to clean you up. Rhys didn't put you down, knowing you might fall, so he washed you while you clung to him.
After the much needed shower, he wrapped you both in a huge fluffy towel and magically changed the sheets as he brushed you hair and put you in one of his shirts.
“Rhysie?”
“Yes, love?”
“That shower was a mighty waste. I think I need you to fuck me one more time, please?”
His eyebrows rose at your words. Never did he think you’d say anything like that. His initial shock was replaced by a proud laugh.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you.”
And he did.
He gave you two more orgasms, and just as he was ready to pull out after dumping his load, you wrapped your legs around him and begged him not to pull out.
Rhys gave you a soft kiss and pulled you closer as you finally slept, exhaustion pulling you into a deep slumber.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
There wasn't much surprise when he successfully put not just one but two babies in you, twins.
Rhysand's male pride was on overdrive. Twins were really rare, and the fact that he managed to knock you up with them in less than a month was almost cause for a celebration. Well, he would throw a party if he didn't grow so damn protective.
If you thought Rhysand was protective when trying for a child, then this Rhysand was on another level. He actually gritted his teeth at Madja after she put her cold fingers on your body, making you hiss.
Let’s not even discuss when your belly started showing…
The moment he learned of your pregnancy, Rhys acted swiftly, weaving layers of intricate shields around you. It wasn't merely about your safety; it was a manifestation of his deep obsession. The shields were a fortress protecting not only you but also the sweet new scent you emitted, a fragrance that had sparked an intense possessiveness within him.
Rhys had become utterly obsessed with that unique scent, ready to unleash his fury upon anyone who dared to get too close and catch even the faintest whiff of something that was sacredly reserved for him alone.
During the announcement for your friends, the presence of Rhysand by your side, standing assertively close, made them wary of getting close to you. As you both stood together, your radiant happiness contrasted against his dark, protective demeanor.
You were a bit bummed, wondering why no one wanted to hug you or atleast shake your hand, then you took one glance at him and let out a sigh as you rolled your eyes.
“Oh, please. They’re not going to eat me alive, baby. It’s fine I promise.”
You embraced Mor and Cassian warmly, reciprocating their hugs, though they avoided prolonged eye contact with Rhys. Azriel's shoulder clap and rare smile conveyed a similar sentiment to a hug, and Amren, nodding, raised her glass in approval, a subtle twitch of her lips indicating her satisfaction.
You skipped back to Rhysand and gave him a kiss, calming him down as he gave you an appreciative smile.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
Pregnancy had made you both extra needy. Rhys got hard everytime he thought about the fact that you were actually carrying his babies, and you got turned on because he was walking sex.
He built a new nursery from scratch, adding an entire new wing to the river estate. Initially, you doubted it would be finished in nine months, but you quickly learned not to doubt him – he always kept his word. Lo and behold, a whole new section of the house emerged, ready for the babies and any future additions to your growing family in only 3 months. His dedication spoke volumes about his commitment to you and the little ones on the way.
He channeled his inner builder during this project, and it never failed to amaze you how desperate he made you feel. Walking around the house wearing nothing but a work belt, sweaty from new constructions, he was a vision of strength and capability. Often, you stood from afar, watching him skillfully build things, savoring the sight before the need to get fucked took over.
Your lips were bitten in silent admiration as he stood there in nothing but linen pants, hanging dangerously low on his hips while building the crib. He looked absolutely delicious , and the appreciation for his craftsmanship would be handsomely rewarded by you.
“Are you going to stare at me all day, beautiful? Come inside, I won’t bite unless you ask me to.”
A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he stood up, sauntering toward you with a grin. His hand extended playfully, a silent invitation to join him.
Deciding to tease him back, because let's be real, you need him bad right now, you chuckle and let the playful banter unfold.
“And what if I do want you to bite? What if I ask you to get us back to our room and fuck me? Would you do it?”
You looked up at him with wide eyes, attempting to portray someone innocently asking a casual question.
“Have I ever said no to you in my life, darling?” he teased, his smile darkening, before winking and leading the way back to your room.
Rhys had vanished your clothes, leaving you bare as he worshipped you. His teasing words and soft caresses brought you closer and closer to the edge.
“You're going to be the best mother ever, such a good mommy for my babes. Nurturing and caring for them. No one is better than you, my love. No one loves as purely as you, fuck,” he whispered urgently, his neediness and desire lacing every word.
His whiny, rasping words were the finishing touch you needed before coming all over his creamy cock with a cry.
Yet again, he took care of you, cleaning you up as he always did. Your mate, ever the loving and caring male, ensuring your well-being with a tenderness that spoke volumes about his deep affection for you.
꩜ ꩜ ꩜
The arrival of your twins turned into a joyous celebration, filling Velaris with happiness over the birth of the new princess and prince. Your friends, throughout your journey, provided unwavering support, guiding you through the hardships and challenges of being new parents.
Now, a new chapter of your life had opened, one you couldn't wait to share with your one true love, marking the beautiful beginning of your happily ever after.
🏷️ taglist: @callmeblaire @acourtofladydeath
#talkswithamara#acotar#acotar x reader#a court of thorns and roses#acotar imagine#rhys x reader#rhys x you#high lord rhysand#rhys acotar#rhysand acotar#rhysand a court of thorns and roses#rhysand x reader#rhysand#rhysand sjm#cw breeding#azriel#morrigan#mor acotar#cassian#amren acotar#azriel acotar#cassian acotar#amren#azriel x reader#cassian x reader#mor x reader#amren x reader
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