#azriel angst
Text
An Education in Malice — Part Two
Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel
Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.
Warnings: 18+ SMUT /sexual content (not reader and az this time tho), swearing, eris having a soft spot for his sister, some low-blow comments and jokes about experienced trauma, mentions of sex, slut shaming if you squint
Word Count: 5.9k
← Part One
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
It was night by time Eris returned home.
The room was capped in a comfortable silence, only the crackling of the fire next to you and the soft breaths of the two hounds that surrounded you— Laney at your feet, Flint lying on the floor nearby. The couch was soft below you as you lay comfortably on it, fingers absentmindedly tracing the paper edges of the book in your hands. Despite the peace of the room, something not often found in Forest House, your mind sat heavy with racing thoughts.
Every single one seemed to drift back to Azriel.
You had already bathed, had already spent time delicately rubbing your skin raw of any scent, of any traces that might connect you back to your earlier decisions. It was a blessing, truly, that Eris had spent the day with his own affairs. You made a note to thank The Mother for the grace given to you— if you had returned home to your brother in the state that you had been, there was no doubt in your mind he would have made a decision even more rash than yours.
But it didn’t seem to help. You weren’t able to wash it off as well as you’d hoped. There was something that still lingered, something ingrained into you, into your bloodstream itself. You weren't a stranger to questionable decisions— but this, this was perhaps your worst to date.
Because there was something deep in you that now felt powerful.
Azriel was driven by duty— by a devotion to his little family that made you angry, a devotion that left him blind and prone to defensiveness. The thought that he would have to return home, to face his family knowing he’d broken some boundary, some sense of trust…. It warmed you in a way that the fire next to you never could.
A small creek echoed and from below you, Flint perked up, head lifting in alertness, ears perched and engaged. A moment later, Eris emerged, his eyes meeting yours instantly as he offered you a small, tired smile. He took in the scene before him as you closed the book in your lap.
“Eventful day?”
He let out a small sigh, perching himself on the edge of the couch opposite you. Flint laid on the floor still, watching him closely as his tail thumped lightly against the ground in greeting. "I suppose.”
There was a pause as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. "And the Shadowsinger?"
You glanced down at the book in your hands, fingers running along the edges of the pages before responding with a casual shrug. "Uneventful,” you replied, “He gave no updates.”
Eris only let out a breath in response, a single eyebrow raised momentarily.
"He’s very…reactive for a Spymaster," you added, a wry smile now playing at the corners of your lips. “You would think they’d be more collected.”
"They’re all reactive," Eris chuckled softly, his mouth turning up in a smile that mirrored your own. His gaze flickered towards the hound at your feet, and you followed his line of sight, reaching down to scratch her head gently.
"Almost more reactive than sweet Laney over here," you teased, earning a soft huff of agreement from her wet nose as she leaned into your touch.
Laney was one of the only female hounds your family owned, a true vision of regal elegance. Eris had trained her specifically for you, a hound just as stubborn and reactive as yourself— and loyal to a fault, as he had told you.
Eris chuckled once more, a sound more gentle and quiet than his normal tone. When you turned to look at him, you were met with a face lost in contemplation, eyes glazed over as his gaze remained fixed on Laney. You frowned, feeling your brows furrow as you took him in, taking notice of the dark circles below his amber eyes.
“Go rest,” you said quietly, giving him a smile as his gaze snapped to yours.
Eris gave you a small nod as he rose from his perch on the couch. Flint followed the motion instantly rising up from the floor to stand at his side. Your brother crossed the room to where you sat, taking large strides to the hallway behind you. There was a playful gleam in his eyes as he passed you, his hand reaching out to tousle your hair affectionately.
"Goodnight, sister," he said softly, hand lingering on your head for a moment before he continued walking.
He made it a few more steps before you called out to him.
"Eris," you began, turning your body to place your hands on the couch and rest your chin upon them. "I want to come to more meetings."
He turned to face you, brows furrowing in mild confusion. "Why?"
"I want to be informed.”
His eyes scanned your face. "I tell you everything I know.”
You let out a sigh, casting a quick glance toward the cracking fire. Then you looked at your brother with a small frown. “I want to be more than just a recipient of passing messages."
It was true. Although you did all the favors Eris asked of you, which extended to taking his place in meetings, he tended to avoid involving you unless it was necessary. You knew that it came from a place of protection, a sense of comfort knowing that he could perhaps save you from hurt so long as you never came near it. But you felt useless, and you wanted to do more. Collecting intel from your father’s acquaintances and listening for news was the most you’d been able to do. You didn’t want to admit that you’d been offered the taste of a newer freedom today— and you suddenly had a craving you weren’t able to smother.
The next words that came from your mouth weren’t needed. It was wrong to guilt Eris, to take advantage of the soft spot he held for you and your power. But you did it anyway.
"I am more than just a pretty face,” you told him, “Prove to them that not all of Autumn believes females to be weak."
He hesitated for a moment, lips twitching in thought.
"Okay," he conceded, "But not too often. We still need to avoid suspicion."
You gave him a smile. "Thank you," you said softly.
Your brother stared at you for a moment, his hand absentmindedly rubbing at the hound that stood next to him.
"Thank you for taking my place today," He finally said, his tone sincere. "I know that meeting must not have been entertaining, with the brute and all."
A flicker of guilt sparked in your stomach, but you shrugged it away. Quickly, it was replaced with a sense of pride. What Eris didn’t know surely wouldn’t hurt him, and despite how questionable your decisions may have been, they weren’t dangerous— and certainly wouldn’t be repeated again. You gave him a grin.
"I know how to tame beasts."
As if on cue, Laney perked up from her position at your feet, her extended neck looking over to where Eris stood behind the couch. He let out a chuckle.
"Indeed you do.” You offered you the small, almost sad, smile once more. “Goodnight.”
With a nod of acknowledgment, you watched as he exited the room, the soft sound of Flint’s paws padding after him.
You waited until it was quiet again, until the a distant creak of Eris's door closing reached your ears, before you turned yourself around on the couch. You brought a hand to rest on Laney’s head, leaning in closer as you gently rubbed your thumbs on her coat.
"Well that was fun, huh?" you murmured softly, the words directed more to yourself than to the hound in front of you. Laney nustled further into your touch.
For a moment longer, you lingered in the quiet of the room, the weight of your thoughts mingling with the gentle warmth of the fire.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
Azriel was going batshit crazy— this he knew for certain.
He was a sick male. A male now plagued with a disease he worried had no cure. He was on the brink of a certain madness that was driven by you, and you alone.
A part of him wondered if your sudden involvement had anything to do with your latest encounter with him. But it made no sense— you were at every meeting with Cassian, causing him to come home grumbling about how he was forced to deal with not one, but two pretentious cunts. Yet, it was only ever Eris when Azriel was free to receive updates.
You had always been some sort of mystery— a fact that used to drive Azriel crazy. He didn’t like unknown factors, didn’t like not knowing his threats properly. You were often shrouded away in the shadows, hidden in the affairs of the Autumn Court. In line with the Vanserra philosophies, as Azriel saw it, you, as a female, truly had no place outside of your court. The times that he did see you were all the same— some snarky comment made from your lips, a sneer at him or anyone from his family, usually Mor.
Yet, you had been there with him three weeks ago. And Azriel hadn’t been able to read you. Not properly anyway, not even when he was inside you, not even as he pushed you to completion.
And he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he enjoyed it.
You were the perfect middle ground. Not exactly an enemy— Azriel would never betray his family so deeply. But you weren’t exactly an ally either, weren’t someone he owed even an ounce of respect to— weren’t a person he needed to keep a face with. And gods did it feel good to think about how he could ruin you— how furious your brothers would be at the idea of him enjoying such intimacies with you. Eris, especially. Azriel couldn’t kill the pretentious fucker, but he could damage him in other ways. Fucking his sister seemed like a good place to start. A wonderful place for him, at least.
Not much scared Azriel. Not much at all. But this, this hunger he felt, the enjoyment he got from experiencing you, it scared him enough to instantly seek out something to distract him.
But there was an itch he wasn’t able to scratch.
And that itch looked like you, smelled like you, sounded like you–
Azriel blinked hard, trying to shake off the haze of his thoughts. His attention snapped back to the present, finding himself gazing down at the blonde kneeling between his legs. Her blue eyes met his as she sucked on him, tongue swirling around the head of his cock as she worked the base of him with a perfectly manicured hand.
She removed her mouth from his tip, hand still pumping the length of him as she looked up at him with wide eyes. A seductive smirk danced on her lips as she bit down on them. "I love sucking your cock,” she whispered huskily, “Does it feel good?"
Azriel stared at her for a moment, eyes still slightly glazed over. He bit the inside of his cheek as he hesitated. Then he nodded.
"Keep going.”
He wrapped his hand in her hair, guiding her movements as he took control, bucking into her mouth with urgency. But every thrust, though pleasurable, felt unsatisfying.
He tried for a few more minutes, tried to readjust himself on her blue velvet couch, tried to lean his head back and close his eyes as he bobbed her head on his cock— nothing worked. The image of three weeks ago was seared into the back of his eyelids, staring back at him every moment he blinked. He was stressed, frustrated, and had a boiling anger that had only continued to build up recently. Nothing seemed to be working for him, not in his duties, not in his life, not even in his sexual activities.
He tried to focus on the sensations coursing through his body, on the pleasure the female before him was offering so freely to him. But every noise she made, every movement she made, only served to remind him that he was too on edge to enjoy it. And fuck, Azriel couldn’t even remember her name. With a frustrated growl, he pulled her off with a pop, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps. She frowned as Azriel’s hands left their place on her scalp.
When he wouldn’t reach her eyes with his own, she climbed up on him, her voice a seductive purr as she offered herself to him.
"Use me however you want. Let your frustrations out."
For a moment, Azriel hesitated, his mind torn between desire and something else, something deeper. He could do it— and he could probably enjoy it. So long as she wasn’t facing him, so long as he could pretend it was...you?
With a sudden surge of energy, he pulled himself up, his hands gripping her tightly as he threw her onto the bed. She let out an excited sequel as he moved towards her, positioning her at the edge of the bed for him to slot himself behind her. As he entered her, a low groan escaped his lips, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through his body.
Her high-pitched whine echoed in the room, mingling with his grunts of exertion as he pounded into her, his grip on her hips firm— almost bruising. She let out breathy moans in response, her body arching against his as he began to move relentlessly, beginning to buck his hips into her fast and hard.
It was then he felt a cool sensation trailing up his body, disembodied whispers drowning out her words of praise.
She walks along the mortal lands, his shadows whispered, deep in the forest.
The female below him gave another whine.
Alone, Alone, Alone.
Quickly, Azriel pulled out of her, leaving her gasping for air and reaching out for him in confusion. But he was already moving, hastily gathering his clothes and rushing towards the door.
Without a word, he threw some money onto the nearby dresser, barely sparing a glance as he made his way out of the door. She turned herself around to stare at the scattered payment on the counter, a frown marring her features. With a frustrated grumble, she fell back onto the bed.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
Eris hadn’t told you much.
Beron’s men were thinly spread these days— running in and out of the court, falling into hushed whispers behind your father’s private quarters. Eris’ soldiers told him as much as they could, but with their low numbers, there wasn’t much they could do, not many places they could sneak to without notice.
Eris was still recovering from the loss, from the men he lost to Azriel and Cassian’s slaughter— to Briallyn and her ability to render them mindless attackers. Your brother wasn’t only mourning his forces, but his friends as well. All of them meant something to him, their loyalty, the bond he had formed to gain their trust. But he would never admit it, not to himself, not even to you. There was no time for mourning in the Autumn Court.
So you found yourself along the border to the Mortal Lands now, seeking out any sign of where your father’s men may be hiding out. From what you’d gathered so far, they had some areas of rest in the moral lands, areas that were hidden far enough to where they couldn’t be trailed, but close enough to Koschei if it was needed— and that was your fathers entire plan. He was getting desperate, he was getting paranoid— scared of his future, scared of Eris.
You paused, a prickling sensation crawling up your spine. There was a bristle behind you and you lifted your chin in response, taking a deep breath of the air. Something flickered within you. Without turning around, you spoke into the stillness of the forest.
"Do you always stalk the females you fuck, or am I just special?"
A voice, hard as stone, responded from behind you. "I'm not stalking you."
You turned slowly, your eyes meeting the shadowed figure emerging from the depths of the trees. Azriel stood before you, his expression flat as usual. His shadows spread out from his form, floating around him like a faint black outline.
"Then what do you call following a lady into the woods from afar?"
Azriel’s face remained stoic, save for the slight raise of an eyebrow.
"Show me a lady and then maybe I'll tell you," he said, voice dripping with a sardonic wit that set something inside you alight— something deep in your gut.
You let out a sound of surprise before you were laughing at the snark, lips curving into a smirk. Azriel tensed, his jaw tightening as the sound reached his ears.
"Oh, someone's feeling playful," you remarked with a teasing lilt, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Rhysand give you a longer leash?"
Azriel said nothing in response, his gaze locked onto you with an intensity that made you unable to stay still. A moment passed as his eyes continued to bore into yours. And then he spoke, a tone cutting through the air like a finely sharpened blade. “You’ve been avoiding me."
There was a tinge of irritation in his tone that made you want to grin.
So he’d noticed.
It was unintended at first, truly. Things were difficult in Autumn recently, with all the whispered rumors of your father planning something questionable. You found yourself only able to attend the meetings in which Eris met with Cassian and his, now, prized mate.
But in the back of your head, a part of you was amused at the idea that Azriel may begin to overthink— that a part of him would get frustrated that you were just out of reach. You weren’t exactly sure why that reaction would be warranted, but you knew it would happen nonetheless. You had an idea, now, how that pretty little mind of his worked. After all, he was a paranoid, anger-prone insomniac. Those types rarely made sane decisions. Seeing him before you now, on edge, irritable, it made it worth the wait.
You raised an amusement eyebrow.
“Have I?"
The feigned innocence in your tone burned deep with annoyance in Azriel’s gut. He grit his teeth in response.
"Yes," he replied.
You scoffed lightly. "You have a mighty inflated sense of self. I don't decide my activities based on the likes of you."
Azriel's expression remained impassive, but you swore a flicker of something passed through his darkened eyes— a hint of frustration, perhaps. It was delicious.
"You've begun to join Eris in our meetings.”
Your eyebrow quirked up in response. You said nothing. Azriel continued.
"And yet, never the ones with me.”
You tilted your head at him, eyes in a narrow-squint as you ran your tongue along your teeth. Azriel’s eyes dropped to your lips, tracing the motion. A grin grew on your face.
"Have you missed me, Shadowsinger?"
“No,” Azriel responded swiftly, “I’m suspicious of you."
"Yeah?" You crossed your arms across your chest. Once again, Azriel’s eyes fell as he took in the motion. “And whys that?”
His eyes seemed to narrow at the playfulness in your voice, but he gave no further physical reaction, simply continuing to hold your gaze as he responded. "I don't trust you.”
You rolled your eyes. "Get in line."
"You are bordering the mortal lands," Azriel stated, his voice a low rumble. "If there are updates regarding Koschei, we should be informed."
"Why?" you challenged, a note of defiance now coloring your tone. Azriel’s jaw clenched, light pouring through the trees in a way that made the shadows on his face even harsher. His own moved around him in an uneasy dance.
"Because we have an agreement."
"Uh uh," you retorted, shaking your head. "You have an agreement with Eris, not me. I don't owe you shit."
His self-control was wearing thin now. Azriel hadn’t forgotten how much you tested his patience— but the past three weeks had somehow softened the aggravation he felt around you in his own mind. He was being reminded now, in real time, why it was a good idea for him to keep his distance.
"Careful," he growled. You didn’t miss the slight twitch in his wings, still carefully tucked between his shoulder blades.
You raised an eyebrow. "Is that a warning or a threat?"
Azriel's gaze hardened. Without breaking eye contact, he shifted his weight, a predatory grace in his movements as he took a step closer.
"Both."
"Let me guess,” you said mockingly, “If I'm not an ally, I'm a threat.”
Azriel narrowed his eyes, shadows swirling around him like a storm brewing. “Yes.”
You pursed your lips, taking a step towards him. Azriel’s eyes widened slightly, a small crease forming between his brows as he traced the movement. A heat stirred within you.
"Do you fuck all your threats?"
He clenched his jaw, a muscle ticking in his temple as his shadows danced with a restrained bite. You paid it no mind as you continued to step closer to him, closing the distance between you.
"That's why you're really here, isn't it?"
Your voice was a low, sultry taunt. You were inches away from him now, looking up at him through your lashes as you reached a hand out to touch his chest.
He tensed beneath your touch. With a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, you slowly trailed your fingers up his chest. It took Azriel a moment too long before he grabbed your hand.
Your smirk widened, eyes flickering to where his scarred hand wrapped around your wrist. You met his eyes next, a deep, angry, brown that bore into yours.
"How did it feel?" you said, voice dropping to a low purr, "When you went home and looked your brothers in the face, knowing you'd done yet another thing to disappoint them?"
The remark hit Azriel in his gut, twisting in his stomach with a burning intensity that he wasn’t used to. Whether it was anger, guilt, or annoyance as the vulgarity, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. His grip tightened almost painfully on your hand, eyes narrowing with a dangerous flame as he stared down at you.
You didn’t flinch, didn’t tear away from his gaze. There was an addicting sense of satisfaction at having struck a nerve with him once more. You took a second to revel in the discomfort you provoked, in the way his muscles tensed at your voice– in the scent change you smelled in the air, now thick with unspoken desire and heady arousal.
Azriel leaned down, voice dropping to a heated whisper. "I've done a lot worse than you."
He released your hand from his grip. You let it fall to your side.
“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” you said with a knowing grin. "And it eats you up the same, doesn't it?"
Azriel didn’t move, didn’t so much as bat an eye at you. A moment passed. And then another. Something flickered across his face. You could have sworn his eyes were now adorned with an amusing glow, that the corners of his lips tilted upwards.
"How was it when you returned home covered in me?" he challenged, voice edged with a sweet, sweet, bitterness. “In my scent, filled with my cum?”
Shivers rippled across your skin as a cool sensation cascaded over your body. You glanced down, watching as dark shadows slithered up your form.
You took a deep breath, ignoring their ghostly touch as you raised an unphased eyebrow in response. "No one batted an eye," you replied coolly.
The shadows continued to move in Azriel’s silence, now wrapping around your neck with a possessive grip that made your heart race. You gritted your teeth at the sensation, pushing back the rush of memories that were now flooding into your mind— memories of the last time his shadows had caressed your skin, tracing every curve and dip of your body with intimate knowledge. Your eyes met Azriel’s.
"Guess you didn't leave that much of an impression.”
A low snarl escaped Azriel's lips. "Or perhaps they're used to you carrying a male's scent.”
You mocked him with a smirk, taking a step back to maintain your distance. His shadows fell from their position around your neck swiftly, rushing back to his body as Azriel's jaw clenched.
"Well now I'm getting mixed signals. Last time I was deprived of a male’s touch, now I'm a whore?"
Azriel said nothing. His teeth seemed to grind against each other with such force that you half-expected them to break under the pressure of his frustration.
"For someone who is so sensitive about his delirious crush being called a slut, you're sure eager to throw such terms around to me."
Your words dripped with a sense of sarcasm, a sense of mockery, that Azriel could almost feel. His wings flared out slightly in response.
"I never said that," was his only reply.
It wasn't an apology. No, Azriel wanted to make sure that whatever words he said were the exact ones he meant. A memory tugged at the corners of his mind, a reminder of the last time you’d stirred such a response in him, of when he had called you those very words in the heat of passion— if he could even call it that. And you had responded in kind, your body yielding to his touch with a fervor that belied any notion of innocence.
Before he could stop himself, he felt himself speak once more. "Although you seemed to enjoy it quite thoroughly when I did."
Deep in your chest, there was a flicker of flame, his words igniting a spark of something within you. You bristled at the insinuation, but dutifully ignored the comment— ignored the connotations that came with it. Instead, you hummed in response, shaking your head.
"That's the thing with you hypocrites. You never just own up to it, do you?”
With a faint smirk still playing on your lips, you took a few steps backwards, eyes trained on him and the shadows coiling around his arms.
“Always a displeasure to speak with you, Shadowsinger.”
As you turned around and began to walk away, there was a queasy feeling in your stomach, a realization that you'd do something to be in this position again, to find a way to rile him up. The thought of igniting that volatile spark between you, setting off sparks like last time—it was too tempting to resist.
But as you felt the burning of his gaze into your back, you couldn’t ignore the nagging truth. He wasn't just a fun toy to play with. Azriel was obsessive, that much you could gather from him— from his history with Morrigan, from his methods of interrogation, from his pride as a spymaster. And the way he was before you now, with the intensity that he regarded you with, it would surely prove to be a problem; a hindrance to being able to help Eris to the best of your ability.
And before your fun— before any amusement you found in Azriel— came one thing. Your loyalty to your brother.
With a steadying breath, you paused and glanced back at him over your shoulder. "Oh, and one more thing," you called out, "If you follow me again–"
You turned around completely to face him. With a hand wreathed in flame, you lazily pointed to his hands, fisted at his sides.
"I'll pick up where your brothers left off.”
Azriel's gaze flickered down to your hand, down to his own, and then back up to meet your eyes.
You brought the same hand near your lips, blowing a kiss in his direction. Azriel watched as a flame danced in the air, swirling and twirling in the shape of a small heart.
Then, without another word, you turned and left, disappearing into the forest.
His gaze followed the flickering flame as it dissipated into the cool breeze.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
You found Eris in his room, seated at his desk as he wrote on one of many scattered papers.
Eris’ room was more full of life than one would expect, adorned with a carefully curated selection of artwork that perfectly showed his refined tastes. Various books lined the shelves of his walls. He had always been quite the scholar at heart, with a keen eye for art and literature. It was a side of your brother that few outside the family knew— a facet of his personality that he shared with Lucien. It was one of the things they shared so closely, but they never talked about it, never truly had any chance to bond beyond the trauma of existing in your family.
The thought of it made your heart hurt. You pushed it away as you moved to sit at the edge of Eris’ bed, watching as he put his papers together before turning to look at you. When he met your eyes, you shook your head.
"Nothing,” you said, “But I wasn't able to get far, anyways.”
Eris lifted an eyebrow in response. “What do you mean?”
"That Shadowsinger sure knows how to keep himself busy.”
There was a tick in Eris’ jaw that told you he was more than annoyed— and that he had a few choice words he was fighting to say. But, instead, Eris simply rolled his eyes.
“Of fucking course,” He said as he leaned back in his chair. He ran a hang along his face. "Are you able to handle him?"
You resisted the urge to snicker, at both your brother’s irritation and the experiences you’ve had with Azriel. Your mind replayed the subtle giveaways that Azriel’s body had given in response to your taunts— and then continued to pour in images of how those taunts had led him to succumbing to a primal desire.
You met your brother's gaze with a smug shrug. "Yes,” you responded, “Very well, I’d say. He hasn’t killed me yet.”
Your words were a simple joke, but Eris seemed to tense at them nonetheless. You frowned, but the reaction was short-lived as he nodded in thought. His eyes flickered to yours.
"Good, because I need you to take my place.”
You blinked, your brows furrowing as you leaned forward.
"What do you mean, ‘your place'?"
Eris met your gaze casually. "Meeting with them," he clarified, his voice steady and unwavering.
“You want me to go in your place permanently?”
You knew for certain that the look on your face was nothing short of annoyance and disgust.
"For now," Eris replied evenly. "If they’re suspicious of you, give them a reason not to be."
You paused. Your mind raced with countless disembodied thoughts and images, the realization that you’d be around Azriel once more– and much more often; that you'd have to deal with them all. Deal with them and their blinding arrogance. Eris, for all of his outward appearances, had an ability to be diplomatic— to a certain extent at least, given his bite. But you wouldn’t be able to handle that. Not all the time, not without your brother. Your previous meeting with Eris, Cassian, and Nesta proved your point— one more comment from you, and you were sure the brute or his death-bride would have killed you on the spot.
You tilted your head at Eris.
"And you’ll follow the leads with your men."
He nodded.
He needed your help. And if you weren’t able to keep Azriel at arms length, the least you could do was keep him occupied enough so his wandering eyes wouldn’t travel to your brother. Now that— that was something you could do. You could ruin him.
With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and lifted your chin.
“Fine,” you said, “I’ll do it.”
Eris gave a laugh. “How sweet that you thought you had a choice.”
You rolled your eyes as Eris stood up, brushing himself off slightly as he walked towards you.
"But you do know that I will have to tell them our suspicions eventually.”
You scrunched your face, looking up at him with a distasteful, frustrated frown.
"Why?"
He lifted his brows, baring a facial expression that mirrored that of an exasperated parent.
"Because we have an allian–”
You interrupted him with an annoyed flick of your hand.
"Alliance, yes, I know," you muttered. "Which I still don’t understand."
Eris sighed. "Y/n—"
A pent-up frustration bubbled beneath you, a simmering heat in your stomach that made you feel antsy. You did your best to bite it down, to swallow the annoyance that was suffocating you, but it was no use. You were never good at holding back your outbursts.
"No, actually, doesn’t it bother you?" you asked, your voice rising slightly. "That they think they're so much better than you, than us?"
Eris clenched his jaw, but he remained composed. This was a conversation you’d had many times before, a frustration that you’d voiced and struggled with since you learned what the emotions of hate, of contempt, truly were.
"I don’t worry myself with what night-dwellers think of me.”
You let out an angry breath.
"Yet you're put in a position to constantly defend yourself.”
Eris was losing his temper now, his voice growing strained as he fought to keep composure for your sake. “I don’t enjoy aligning myself with them, but it's what's needed.”
"I would kill Beron tomorrow if you’d let me. We could do it alone."
Eris shook his head firmly. "No," he stated, his tone left no room for argument. "That is a risk I’m not going to take. Not with you, not with our mother."
"They will never see you as anything worthy of respect, Eris.”
“Their respect is not something I need,” he snapped, "When I’m fixing this court, it won’t matter.”
"It matters to me.”
There was a strain in your voice that you didn’t notice until Eris’ eyes softened. And then he was letting out a deep breath, looking at you with the hint of a frown.
"Don’t let it.”
His voice was softer now. The same voice he’d used to soothe you during thunderstorms, the same voice that coached you through learning how to control your fire.
"I hate them. I hate that we have to cater to them because they're our only aid right now."
"The feeling is mutual. That’s what makes this work.”
“But we have reasons to hate them," you countered, “Very valid reasons.”
Eris sighed, a tired resignation in his tone. “They believe they have reasons, too.”
You fell silent, shaking your head in disbelief as you bit the inside of your cheek. That simmering anger still boiled beneath the surface— the anger of feeling wronged, of being backed into a corner and then being punished for biting.
Eris watched you closely, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.
"They do not matter," he reassured you. "They will never matter— not truly. We use them now, and you will never have to be near them again."
You nodded as Eris brought you into his chest, giving you a small hug as he held your head in his hand.
But a nagging doubt lingered in the back of your mind. Deep within the corners of your mind, deep within your chest, something told you that his words were wrong. Something old— something strong.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
a/n: who is ready for some nasty slutty feral enemies with benefits… 😋😋 ME YALL ITS MEEEE
i was worried about writing a part w no smut but these dynamics need to be built up first 😮💨 its so funny to me that both her and az are like ya... i have the upperhand here.... i am winning....
enemies who actually don’t like each other >>
enemies who didn’t “always love” each other >>
enemies to forced proximity trope >>
the future of malice! az & malice! reader going from no respect towards each other to playful flirting banter >>
permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria
malice series tag list: @going-through-shit @sidthedollface2 @justasillylittlegoofyguy @mal-adaptive-dreams @alainabooks143 @mybestfriendmademe @sfhsgrad-blog @marina468 @wonderwomanlovesyou @the-darkestminds @circe143
@starsandsins @acourtofdreamsandshadows @ysmtttty @mendes-bae
azriel tag list: @thisiskaylin
#azriel x reader#azriel x reader smut#azriel smut#azriel#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader angst#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel acotar#acotar fanfic#azriel angst#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fanfiction#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar x reader smut#acotar smut
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shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part three
summary: azriel jealous and yearning for Y/N
🧚♀️
a/n: sorry guys for the long assss wait, ive been on exchange in the uk so i have been busy living life hehe, still here and loving it!! hope you guys like this one, love you all cuties <33 also this isnt proof read so sorry for any mistakes! let me know what you think, i love all of your sweet messages !! eeeeeee
read : [part one] [part two]
-----🩷🧚♀️💗------
You woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache and a parched mouth, confused as to how you had made it to your bed from last night. The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over your room.
Groaning loudly, you cursed as you shifted your weight around, consequently turning your head to come face to face with Lucien's chiseled features, peacefully sleeping next to you. It took you a second to realize he was shirtless as well.
You screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"
His mechanical eye swirled open, followed by his other. "Tell me we didn't."
"DID what," Lucien murmured, a small smirk gracing his features as he stared up at the ceiling. Amusement danced in his eyes as he stretched languidly against the sheets. His morning rasp tingled inside you and nicked at you annoyingly. This could not have happened. The headache of whatever liquids and maybe even other substances you had consumed yesterday hit you hard, and you fell back to face the ceiling as well, nausea threatening to overwhelm you.
"You little slut, you know what I meant," you groaned, rolling onto your front in a feeble attempt to quell the oncoming headache and urge to vomit.
You felt Lucien shift next to you as well, attempting to detangle himself from the crisp black sheets of your bed. "We must have done it."
"NO Lucien."
"YES."
"NO, I CAN'T-"
"…why not," Lucien breathed out. His demeanor had changed since you last saw him sober; something had happened last night, and you could not remember, but he was acting differently.
"All I am saying is that last night made me realize things about you, Y/N…" he continued, rising from the sheets. You raised your eyes in horror, ready to scream because you did not want to get flashed by fiery dick-
-a pair of orange breeches came into view.
"Oh."
"Upset that we didn't actually sleep together, Y/N?"
An unknown feeling of red-hotness spread throughout your face, turning your cheeks pink. "I hate you, Lucien," you hummed.
"What did you realize, Lucien?"
"That I pretend to not care the way Azriel and Elain make heart eyes at each other, but on the inside, it's like a knife twisting inside me," he deadpanned, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.
"What???" he groaned, falling down next to you. "Nothing, Luc, I just feel sorry for us, that's all.
~
Azriel sat at the dining table, swirling the black coffee mindlessly. It was 2 pm, and his shadows had begun reporting how the others had finally begun stirring awake after their long night. They had gotten back at 5 am, the sun slowly beginning to peek through the trees and buildings of Velaris, and he had watched from afar as Lucien carried Y/N to her room.
He had not come out afterwards. His shadows had been in an unfamiliar frenzy, yelling to slip through and see what was happening in that bedroom, to investigate how good he gave it to her because Azriel just knew. He knew he could give it to her better.
He clenched his fists at the picture his shadows had painted for him of the events which probably had unfolded in her room. What was it with his sexual urges with Y/N all of a sudden? She was just his friend. She had always just been his friend. Maybe he had had a little crush on her before. Maybe when she would walk into a room and his palms would sweat, he would chastise himself for wearing too many layers. Or how when she used to make his heart beat irregularly, he would tell Rhys about anxiety. It was easier to let them think he had a disorder rather than admit feelings. Because maybe, just maybe he had had slight feelings towards her for centuries. But there was Elain now.
He liked Elain.
"Good Morning Azriel!" a sweet voice chirped, as Elain entered the dining room, a sweet tea held in her perfectly manicured hands. Even after a night out, she looked perfect. Her hair looked freshly blow-dried, and her lips tinted pink, looking fresh and kissable. He smiled gently, and her eyes brightened as she took a seat next to him, murmuring things about last night and how odd it was to see Lucien with Y/N.
"I just don't think he should have danced like that with her, what do you think?" she whispered, her eyes shining.
"I know it was disrespectful to you," Azriel nodded back, looking into her glassy doe eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he felt a sudden burst of movement from his shadows, but the warning wasn't quick enough as two figures walked into the room.
God, she looked horrible.
Elain let out a comical gasp, and the corner of his mouth lifted as Y/N walked into the room, her hair messy and disturbed, like someone had pulled on it, ran their hands through it. Her presence snatched on his gaze, it pulled it towards him, and Azriel found himself unable to look away.
Her eyes lazily dragged over Azriel, raking up his body, and never before had he felt so hot. But he did not break eye contact with her either, he maintained it, willing and daring her to break it first.
Their eyes met in a silent battle of wills, a tension simmering beneath the surface as they sized each other up. It was a fleeting moment, but it spoke volumes, leaving Azriel reeling in its wake.
"Lucien, can we talk?" Elain broke the silence.
Everyone blinked and looked at the innocent girl sitting down. Azriel watched as she looked into Lucien’s eyes, with her innocent look, and he mentally chuckled. She was doing damage control, and it was working because his shadows were reporting the increase in Lucien’s heartbeat.
“Of course,” Lucien whispered and pushed past Y/N, whisking Elain away out of the room.
Charged silence followed. Azriel went back to nursing his coffee which had gone cold now. He felt Y/N scoff and mutter something under her breath which sounded a whole lot like "bitch," as she moved around the place, into the connecting kitchen, trying to will the House to make her a cup of its strongest coffee. They didn’t say a word to each other, but Azriel could feel the tension in the air. He didn’t know where it had formed from, what abyss it had risen from, he just knew there was something that needed to be addressed between them before his head and his heart exploded.
“What was that from last night?” he let out a breath finally, his shadows jittering around the place. He looked up from his swirling black coffee to see Y/N cease her movements in the corner of the kitchen. Her short night dress, barely covering her ass, had ridden up as she had been bent over the kitchen bench. Azriel felt himself stiffen, so he looked away quickly, adjusting himself.
“What do you mean,” she replied, turning around with a neutral expression on her face, guarding her emotions. She carefully padded her way to the table, setting the coffee down and placing herself directly in front of him. Her scent wafted over him, and his jaw ticked, but he didnt show any emotion. His dark eyes bore into hers, his shadows fought to sift over her, wanting to know her thoughts, her feelings, her emotions. Alas, she showed nothing.
“You and Lucien…” he drawled out, pretending to ask nonchalantly.
“We just danced to Azriel, I was really drunk,” she whispered softly, placing her hands together on her lap.
“You emerged from the same room,” he replied calmly.
As she cocked her head to the side, her hair falling onto her face, time seemed to slow down. Her long eyelashes were stunning, and her deep eyes looked at Azriel with something so unsaid, that the raw intensity sent shivers down his spine.
Azriel knew at that moment that he could no longer leave these unanswered feelings of his left hanging. He wasn't a dumb male; if his body was responding to Y/N like this for so long, there was clearly a reason. And it was not a dumb crush.
He had forced himself to believe for so long, that Elain should belong to him. Three brothers for three sisters, that is what he would tell himself.
Yet something had shifted between them two, a subtle undercurrent that left Azriel reeling. It was something deeper, something undeniable. And as he met Y/N's gaze, he knew that he could no longer ignore the pull that drew him to her, the pull of something real, something worth fighting for.
--
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#azriel x reader#enemies to lovers#acotar#azriel acotar#lucien vanserra#lucien x reader angst#elain x azriel#elain acotar#elain archeron#elain x lucien#azriel x elain#feyre archeron#feyre x rhysand#feyre cursebreaker#nyx archeron#rhys acotar#rhysand#cassian x reader#cassian#acosf#nesta x cassian#nesta archeron#nesta acotar#nesta#friends to lovers#smut#angst acotar#azriel angst#fluff#sarah j maas
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His little sister: Did you plan on telling?
Summary: Azriel learns of your sparring incident with Cassian and this is his point of view of the day in question.
Word count: 2.8k
Warning: probably some misspelled words
Note: Ya'll I love this back and forth between Az's and readers pov. What do you think? But things are starting to get more intense 😬😧
Ever since the night Azriel had returned with you from the summer court he was for the lack of better wording intentionally been avoiding you. It's not like he wanted to ignore you, gods no. If anything he wanted to be near you as much as possible. Rhysand never explicitly told him to stay away from you but with the intensity level of your antics increasing and the protectiveness level of your brother also increasing Azriel decided it would be the best idea so steer clear of you for at least a little while. Even though the two of you live in the same house with Nesta and Cassian he made it a point to be out of the house before you woke up and only return once he was sure you would be fast asleep.
Avoiding you wasn’t as hard of a task as one would think it would be since you tended to just roam around the house looking for something to pique your interest until you inevitably got bored and repeated the process. Not only did your free roaming habits help Azriel avoid you but he was still the spymaster of the night court and had his own duties and responsibilities to tend to. He had been gone for a week when he returned in the hours of the early morning. The sun still hadn’t begun to peak its ways over the horizon when his feet touched down on the roof. As wired as Azriel still felt from his flight back home, his body was tired. He decided to get some rest for a few hours before flying down to the river house to relay the information he obtained to Rhysand.
When he woke, the sun had finally started to bless the city of Velaris with its light and warmth. Reluctantly he began to get ready for what he was sure to be a very long day. He knew that today Cassian and himself were supposed to demonstrate fighting techniques for Nesta and the other girls but Cassian would have to figure something else out. Never did he think Cassian's new plan of action would be leaving an imprint of his fist on your face otherwise he would have shown up.
Azriel waited for his shadows to report back to him that you had made your way up and onto the roof to begin stretching with Nesta before he also made his way up to the roof so he could fly down to meet Rhysand. The goal was just to not get caught, which shouldn’t be too hard considering that he was a shadowsinger and very good at leaving places without being noticed. Just as he arrived at the top stairs leading to the unofficial training area that was the roof of the house of wind Cassian was talking about the importance of different fighting techniques.
Azirel knew that he should leave before you caught sight of him and then marched your away over to him demanding to know why he was ignoring you, ensuring that you made a big scene before all the Valkyries in training. He was sure that wouldn’t end well for him. The only answer that he could possibly give you is “Sorry, I’ve been busy.” which if he was being completely truthful was one hundred percent bullshit considering the fact that he's never been too busy for anything involving you. There have been times where he has been sleep deprived and littered with cuts and bruises and covered and blood and gods knows what and he still made time for you. He was sure that you were his fatal flaw.
His daydream was abruptly ended at the sound of your laughter. He didn’t need his superior hearing to know that you were teasing his brother. He could tell just from your body language. The tilted head, bouncy shoulders, wide smile and loose body posture that told him that you were poking fun at the general. Azriel swore he could read you better then he could read any book. He watched for just a moment longer as the two of you got into the fighting stance and began to circle each other while throwing out a few fake jabs to get ready for the real deal. As much as he wanted to stay and see you kick Cassian's ass and put him into place he also really needed to speak with Rhys so with one last look he shot off into the sky and towards his high lord and lady.
Azriel had just sat down in one of the overly large and plush chairs that decorated Rhysands office while beginning to retell the events of his latest quote unquote “adventure” as you would call it when Rhysands eyes clouded over. Someone was speaking to him mind to mind. If he had to guess, it would probably be his wife. Gods knows he did not want to know what they were talking about. A beat of silence filled the room before Rhys spoke. “It’s Cass. He wants me to go to the house.” The high lord rolls his eyes before going completely still. “What is it?” There hasn’t been many times in Azriels long history of knowing Rhysand where he got that look of dread on his face to say it was concerning was an understatement.
“It y/n” Those were all he needed to hear before both males were up on their feet in a split second and racing to the front door to launch themselves in the sky. If rhysand ever asked why he was so quick to react he would say it was because you were his friend and rhys little sister and most importantly family. And family shows up for family. Luckily Rhysand was too preoccupied with getting out of the house to notice the sheer look of concern mixed with panic on his friend's face.
There has been many times when Azriel had been faced with things that should have made his heart race and it didn’t. There were also times when he had faced things and it did make his heart race, but nothing could make his heart racing like knowing something had happened to you but not knowing what. It truly made his stomach churn and he felt like he just might throw up. And as the spymaster he has seen and done things that would make any normal fae sick to their stomach, but not once did he ever feel that way. His love for you was so overwhelming that even not knowing if you were ok could almost bring him to his knees.
The less than five minute flight to the house of wind had never felt as long as it did in that moment. He could hear the beating of both rhysand and his wings and they propelled them to Cassian's waiting figure. As soon as both males were close enough they could see Cassian pacing back and forth and Nesta cradling your head while you laid on the ground. If Azriels heart wasn’t racing before then it sure was now. Once both him and Rhys had landed it knew Rhysand was questioning Cassian as to why his baby sister was laying on the ground looking as dazed as ever. But he couldn’t find it in himself to tear his eyes away from your body. A few moments passed before Rhysand was moving towards you and both he and Cassian followed. Finally he was able to pull his eyes away from where you laid to look at his other brother with an eyebrow raised in a silent way of asking what happened. Cassian's pained shake of his head and lack of verbal or physical response was definitely starting to concern him.
As soon as Nesta removed her hand Azriel knew why Cassian didn’t answer him. The reason you were laid out flat on the ground not responding was because of Cassian. The rational part of Azriel knew his brother never meant to do his to you. He would never hurt any female let alone the one he considered a little sister who he helped raise. But the irrational part of him, the part of him that was your mate, wanted to beat Cassian to a pulp for ever thinking it was a good idea to use you for his demonstration. His eyes never left your quickly darkening bruise that was starting to blossom across your face while his mind ran through all the ways he would like to repay the favor to his brother. It took a few deep breaths for him to decide that duking it out with Cassian would look suspicious to not only Rhys but to literally everyone there so instead he focused on controlling his mind numbing anger he felt not only towards his brother but the situation he put you in. Plus somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that Cassian would have to deal with Rhysand and that wouldn't be pretty either.
After pushing his very primal anger to the side he began to as gently as he possibly could, pull you into his arm. Azriel, just like Rhysand, has been on the other side of a punch Cassian can throw and just how much damage it can inflict. Whether or not he was trying to. Azriel could see the start of just how much damage you had been dealt with the fresh red, purple and dots of red where the force of the impact had popped the blood vessels in your face. The condition of your face was enough to warrant a visit to the inner circles healer. Hell getting punched by either one of the three males was reason enough to pay a visit to Madja. Once he had explained to Nesta just where he was taking you he was gentle when launching into the sky. Not wanting to cause you more pain then you were already experiencing.
The flight to Madja’s clinic was a short enough one but every few seconds he couldn't help but look down at your face and evaluate the mark left on your face. It made him want to cry. He would never forgive himself for not showing up to training this morning. Even though you may not know that he was your mate. He did. And the day he found out, the moment he found out that he was your mate he swore that he would never let anything bad happen to you. Even if that meant sacrificing his life for yours. For you he would do anything without question. If you asked him to burn down the world he would and at the end he would deliver you the ashes pressed into a diamond just to make you happy. So knowing that his choice to skip training his morning was the direct result of the concussion rattling around your head and the very badly picked colors of the autumn court decorating your cheek made him disgusted with himself.
The bell above the door of the healers clinic jingled as the Illyrian made his way inside. Usually the old fae was tucked away in some room helping with another patient but this time she was sat at the counter working with an apprentice when he entered. “Y/n?” The calm voice was coated in concern. She made her way over to where he stood in the middle of the room giving you a quick once over before beckoning for him to follow her into a room. As soon as he set you on the bed Madja was looking you over for any other injuries. “What happened to her?” As the inner circles healer Madja was used to fixing up the three males even sometimes Morrigan and occasionally Feyre but never had you become a patient of hers. “She was sparring with Cassian.” The shadowsinger didn’t need to say anything else for the fae understood exactly what that meant.
Madja was in the middle of giving Azriel different tonics and potions that would help with the injury you had sustained when Rhysand walked through the doors. “Where is she?” the high lord cut a sharp look to his brother. “She's in the room resting. The apprentice is watching over her.” Azriel watched as Rhysands eyes moved from him to the healer. “And is she ok?” Madja gave a slight nod “She will definitely have a gnarly bruise for some time and a concussion but she will live. You should be thankful that Cassian didn’t put more power behind that hit otherwise we might not be having this conversation.” Madja picked up one of the tonic bottles and gave it a little shake. “But as I was saying before you came storming in here.” After all these years Azriel knew Madja was used to the theatrics of the inner circle and that's why she paid the high lord no mind when he barged in. For her it was just another normal day.
Azriel stayed while Madja explained what each medicine did, how much to give and how often to give it. Just in case Rhys wasn’t able to do it. Not like that would happen but just in case. He stayed in the front of the clinic while Rhysand went to collect his sister. Eventually the three of you emerged into the streets of Velaris. One was holding your body and one was holding a bag of vials. He was the latter. Azriel hated the thought of Rhysand walking through the streets of Velaris with you in your current state but he also knew that winnowing would not be a good idea. So both males began the walk to Feyre and Rhysand’s house. Not a single word was said the whole walk home. Azriel pushed open the wide doors for Rhysand to fix through when Feyre appeared before him “How is she?” for a minute he didn’t respond instead he watched as Rhys walked up the stairs and turned down the hallway leading to his personal room. After Rhysand was out of his sight did he hold up the bag he was holding. “Madja said she will be fine, just in a lot of pain.” His lady let out a big breath of relief.
Rhysand still wasn’t down from his room when he was finished explaining each tonic to Feyre along with how and when to give them so reluctantly he made his exit. That was not before sending his shadows to check on you. “She's still asleep. Comfort in bed. Resting. Rhys is looking over her.” Madja had given you something for the pain and in turn it put you to sleep. There wasn’t anything he could do. Rhysand would never let him close enough to care for you. Once when you were still a child you had accident cut yourself playing with a dagger Rhysand had specifically told you not to touch and when you eventually did get hurt Rhys was the one to tend to you, not allowing either him nor Cassian to care for you. Even when he was supposed to be training. You could have a paper cut and Rhysand would not let anyone other than himself look over you. You are his baby sister after all. That job belongs to him.
Azriel knew that Rhys would keep you at the river house until you were ok enough to be flown back to the house of wind. In those few days Azriel fought of the temptation to fight Cassian every time the two males made eye contact and spent the other time looking for a mission to get away from his brother. Azriel had a feeling the murderous feelings wouldn’t subside until he knew you were one hundred percent better. So being sent out on a mission with Cassian was the last thing he wanted.
They were currently sitting by a fire when Cassian broke the silence “So when did you plan on telling us that you were y/n’s mate?” Azriel felt himself choking on the water he had been attempting to drink mere seconds ago. “What?” his coughing fit was still ongoing when he managed to squeak out the one word. “I may not be the smartest one in the group but it doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.” Azriel swore he knew gave any indication that he was your mate to anyone. Hell he barely acknowledged it himself. “I am not y/n’s mate.” Cassian's laugh rang out into the open woods before echoing into the distance. “Sure you're not that why every time you looked at me for the past week almost, you looked like you wanted to kill me. I could tell you were avoiding me. I mean you're less than happy to be here with me.” the general took a big bite of his badly cooked dinner, not even bothering to eat it before speaking again. “You can deny it all you want but I would know because that’s the same way I was with Rhys when I had just an inkling Nes was my mate.”
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#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar x you#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#azriel angst#rhysand x sister!reader
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Iris
Azriel x Rhys’s Sister Reader
Summary: Reader has been struggling with her inner demons ever since her brother went Under The Mountain.
A/N: This is really dark. Please, please read the warnings before clicking read more.
To preface: I’m okay, just tired and was pre-menstrual when I started this. I haven’t been in this dark of a place in a very long time, but I wanted to write this for 15-year-old Shelby who thought no one saw her. I haven’t talked about my history of self-harm much and it’s hard to reopen those wounds, but it’s therapeutic.
If anyone is struggling, my inbox is always open. I’ve also included a few resources at the end of this fic.
Wordcount: 1.2K
Warnings: ANGST!!; major depression; disordered eating (binging); graphic self-harm; Rhys UTM
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧
Reader
Things were bad.
Really bad.
You had completely withdrawn from your family in the months since Rhys had gone Under The Mountain.
Rhys - your idiot older brother - had sacrificed himself to protect you and your people; leaving you in charge of his court.
Ruling had always come easy to him, he was born to do it whereas you struggled to switch between the required masks.
These days, the only mask you wore was one of cold indifference.
As the shield fell into place around Velaris, trapping you inside, a wall of adamant rose around you, keeping everyone around from seeing the war raging inside your mind.
Most of your time was spent in your bedroom with the curtains drawn, unable to look at the sleeping city below your window.
Velaris, the city of Starlight, had lost its sparkle.
The first week after Rhys left, not a single light could be seen. The once lustrous city had gone into mourning. The Sidra, usually glimmering like liquid night, now reflected only the deepest black.
You only dared to leave your room during the night when you were less likely to be spotted, not wanting anyone to see the ghost you’d become.
You float down the stone hallway, robes billowing as you walk to the kitchen.
You’d taken to eating late at night. Food, usually sweets, was the only comfort you could find.
You’re rummaging in the larder when you feel a familiar sensation around your bare ankles, the cold shadow wisping over your skin.
“Y/N,” you hear a deep voice say behind you.
You turn, blocks of chocolate in hand, to face the one person you love more than your brother.
“Azriel,” you reply, taking in his appearance.
He looked terrible.
His hair was dishevelled, his jet-black curls in dire need of a comb, and his once warm hazel eyes were dull and bloodshot. Beneath them were deep violet bruises, clearly he wasn’t sleeping much.
You can feel his gaze on you, and wonder what he thought of the shadow of life you’d become.
You watch his nostrils flare. “Y/N, are you hurt? I can smell blood.”
You feign a laugh, “I’m on my cycle.” You hold up the chocolate as evidence. “Cravings.”
Azriel narrows his eyes but doesn’t push you. “I… We miss you,” he says.
You turn away from him, unable to voice how broken you feel.
“Please, I can’t lose you too,” he pleads.
“Goodnight Azriel,” you whisper, slipping out the door into the dark hallway.
Neither Azriel nor his shadows follow you.
————
You step out of the shower and stand in front of the bathroom mirror, scrutinising your reflection.
You pinch at the skin on your hips and stomach, scowling at the growing curves, before turning to the side to inspect your full breasts and butt.
Facing forward again, your eyes fall upon the ladders of scars across your thighs and forearms.
Angry red and purple lines jutting between faint silver.
You started again after losing Rhys. You hadn’t done it since losing your mother. It was the only way you knew to reflect your inner turmoil.
The day your mother was killed, you were meant to be with her. You should’ve been taken too.
Rhys had helped you out of the pit of despair that time, but he was no longer here. Once again, you were saved while your loved ones were not.
You towel off your skin before sitting down at your vanity. You pull out an ornate jewellery box and retrieve the ash dagger stashed inside.
You weren’t sure why you harmed yourself. There was a part of you that felt you deserved it, that thought you were a wretch for allowing your brother to endure all that torment for you. Then there was a part that just wanted to feel something other than the numbness that ached to your core.
You press the dagger against your skin. Not even the sting of the blade made you cry anymore. Your tears had long since dried up.
With each slice, your self-hatred rings in your ears.
Stupid – cut.
Useless – cut.
Waste of space – cut.
You set the bloodied dagger down on the counter, feeling nothing but apathy.
Morning starts to creep in when you finally make it to bed. As you lay there, staring at the ceiling, the little voice inside your head sneers at you.
This was the life your brother sacrificed his for? Pathetic.
————
Azriel
If Velaris has become a ghost town, the House of Wind was its crypt – haunted by devastation and grief.
Azriel leaned against the balcony railing, looking out on the once-shining city.
How did it all go so wrong?
Not a day had gone by where he didn’t blame himself for everything. For Rhys. For Y/N.
Y/N. He could see the pain in her eyes. She tried to hide it, but Azriel knew better. He’d always been the one who could see through her masks.
Azriel is pulled from his thoughts by his shadows, swarming around him in distress.
“Y/N. Kitchen. Now.”
“She doesn’t want to see me,” Azriel tells them.
“She’s hurt.”
Azriel winnows into the hallway, allowing his footsteps to be heard outside the door. He turns into the room and spots Y/N searching through the freezer.
She slams it shut, jumping as she turns towards Azriel.
“Oh, I didn’t realise you were here,” she says. “We’re out of ice cream.” Y/N tries to step around Azriel but he blocks her path with his wing. He looks her over, not able to see anything visibly wrong.
“I’ll get you some more, just please come to dinner,” Azriel pleads. “Or we can go flying together, anything you want. I can’t bear to see you like this.”
Y/N shakes her head, looking at the floor.
“He wouldn’t want you hiding away like this,” Azriel says.
“I don’t care what he would want. He obviously can’t think clearly or else he wouldn’t have left,” she seethes, pushing past Azriel.
Azriel grabs her by the wrist, stopping her in her tracks. “Please Y/N, you’ve…” he trails off, feeling something lumpy under her sleeve. “What is that?”
Y/N tries to yank her arm back but Azriel’s grip is firm.
“Let me see,” Azriel says quietly. Tears start to fall from her eyes as he gently lifts her sleeve, revealing the bloodied bandages. “Oh darling, what happened?”
Y/N just shakes her head.
“Can I have a look?” he asks.
She bites down on her trembling lip, tears flowing freely
Azriel carefully unwinds the bandages revealing the stark, straight lines. His chest aches for her; as if the scars were etched into his heart.
Azriel always cared deeply for Y/N, offering her a listening ear or a shoulder to cry on whenever she needed it. A small part of him felt hurt that she hadn’t confided in him.
He swallowed his pain, it didn’t matter. He was here now.
“Come here,” Azriel wraps his arms around her, stroking Y/N’s hair softly as she sobs in his arms.
Azriel knew she was struggling, everyone could see it. But no one realised just how much losing Rhys broke her.
Azriel curses himself.
He should’ve known. After her parents, Rhys was all she had.
No that’s not true - she had Cassian. And Mor. And Amren…
And him.
And he wasn’t letting her go.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ
Mental Health Resources*:
If you’re in immediate danger please call your country’s emergency number.
Australia:
Beyond Blue: https://www.beyondblue.org.au/
Mental Health Hotline: 1800 011 511
Lifeline: 13 11 14
USA:
Crisis Line (call or text): 988
UK:
Lifeline: 0808 808 8000
*If I have gotten anything wrong or if you have other resources to add, please let me know ❤️
#azriel angst#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar angst
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— AFTERGLOW (azriel x reader)
020: “ just don’t go… ”
masterlist previous next
— NOTES
rhysand confronts reader (finally) and calls them out for how they treat azriel
reader really thinks about the way they become attached and interact with people since they’re naturally closed off
everyone say thank you to the girlies gc for putting some sense into y/n 🫶
— TAGLIST
@ithan-holstroms-girl @strangelycami @fell-in-luvs @goldenmagnolias @glam-targaryen @acourtofdreamsandshadows @bloombb @mp-littlebit @gamarancianne @stqrgirlies-blog @peachcontour-blog @azriels-shadowsinger @awkward-d3rs3-dr3amer @chessebookgirl @fairywriter-oracle @thelov3lybookworm @corvusmorte @evergreenlark @marina468 @405rry @azrielsmate3 @that-one-little-soybean @emryb @lilah-asteria @c-dizzle99
#— afterglow#azriel angst#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x reader angst#azriel series#azriel shadowsinger#azriel imagine#azriel au#acotar au#acotar imagine#acotar angst#azriel spymaster#azriel shadowsinger x reader#acotar x reader#acotar x you#eris x reader#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra#eris angst
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"It is the honor of many to be felled by these hands. Hands imbued with the strength of your resilience and pain. I would count myself lucky to be among them."
Quotes from my Azris notes folder that don't have a home fic ... yet. Though I might put this one in Hel or High Lord. 👁️
#3
#azris supremacy#azriel x eris#azris fanfiction#acotar#eris vanserra#azriel shadowsinger#acotar fanfiction#azris#eris acotar#azriel acotar#azriel angst#eris angst#acotar aesthetic#acotar moodboard#azris fanart#my Azris quotes
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Astraea and Azriel from his pov:
I wrote this up really quickly so I'm not sure how cohesive it even is, so I apologize for any clunky sentences
We had been sitting on a cliff off the Illyrian mountains for some time, it had already gotten dark and the wind had picked up, but I dared not to utter a word, possibly tearing the delicate tension between us. My gaze has been on Rosalyn the entire time, but never once did she share it. The wind continued in my ears, until it went quiet. It seems that now even the sky bows to her.
"Azriel" Rosalyn's eyes softened, not in a kind way, but like how a snake coils in the grass before striking, but it still strayed from mine, "Do you remember when we were children, and Rhysand saw that young Illyrian boy getting beaten to a pulp by two other boys? And he rushed over, putting his body between them?"
"What is this... Ros..?"
"Azriel? Do you remember how he cleaned the boys wounds? And sewed his torn skin?" Her eyes refused to meet mine.
I don't recall what she's speaking of at all, but I can only imagine it's what's been on her mind this whole time. "No. Rosalyn I don't."
"That's because he didn't help the boy. He was the one beating him up." Her eyes finally locked mine. "I cleaned your blood from your bruised body. I sewed your skin and held your hand." Her tone was no longer soft, now it was anguished and fraught. She wants to yell, but her throat is strained to contain it. I wish she would, I hated when she hid herself from me.
But that thought perished like a candle blown out.
Why is she bringing this up now? Rhysand is my brother, that was a skirmish between children.
"He is not your brother," she retorted as if she had heard my thoughts, cutting them off just like they had been a moment before. "He is not your equal and he has never seen you as one. From that day you have become his lackey. You're not a dear friend, you're his soldier. He trusts you not because he loves you, but because he's put a leash on your collar and tamed you." Had she always harbored so much distaste from Rhysand? Ihad heard her speak about her father this way, but Rhysand? Her brother? The High Lord? The man who had risked himself to save Velaris?"
"You may be his sister, but watch how you spea-" My voice was cut off by her sudden stance. Now she looked down at me.
"Rhysand allows you your freedom, he is your master. A dog doesn't bite the hand that feeds it, and Rhysand has made you his bitch."
She had never spoken to me so abrasively, in all the time I had known her she was nothing but sweet. Had she always look at me like this when she saw me, when she told me she loved me? Her beautiful eyes full of disdain?
"I suggest now you reevaluate who you're loyal to." And then she walked away, leaving me alone again like she did all those centuries ago.
@littlemisssatanist @hrizantemy @rowletlittenpopplioteam @szalonykasztan00 @redcherrypineapple finally writing ab this again 🙏
#acotar fic#acotar fanfiction#when the stars cry#azriel fanfic#anti sjm#anti sarah j maas#anti rhysand#anti inner circle#sjm critical#azriel fic#azriel angst#anti acotar
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Arrows and Ashes
You and Cassian are ambushed when trying to meet with Eris in the Autumn Court. When an interrogation ensues that leaves you permanently scarred, how will Azriel react?
WC: 4.7k
Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff.
Part 2
—————————————
Drip. Drip. Drip.
It was damp. From the cold, wet floor to the musty air and your blood-soaked skin.
How long had you and Cassian been here? How long had it been since Autumn soldiers had ambushed you in the woods of the Autumn Court, shooting arrows directing into the war general?
It couldn't have been more than a day. You didn't even think it was night time yet. But it felt like it had been an eternity.
From the interrogations to watching Cassian writhe around in pain due to the faebane arrows protruding from his wings... time continuously ticked slower.
You ached. Your entire body cold with sweat despite your lack of clothing. Dirt and blood coated your skin, and you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it felt against your normally soft flesh. You couldn’t though. You couldn’t ignore the situation you were in. Not when it only seemed to be getting worse, and you had no escape in sight.
You might not make it out of here.
You had left that morning expecting to return home quickly. You had left with a plan to meet Eris Vanserra and return to the House of Wind for a bath, to read a book, to have a nice dinner with friends, and maybe even get to spend time with your mate.
Azriel. You wondered what he was doing right now.
If you focused hard enough, you could almost picture him bursting through the cell door, blue siphons ablaze with power and face molded into an expression of beautiful fury.
But he wasn't here. And you might never see him again.
"Cassian..."
"Don't." He demanded. His voice was cracking with weakness, but he tried to sound resolute. "Rhys is coming."
He didn’t sound convinced, and you could tell that he was worried you were running out of time too. It might not have been long enough for Rhys and the others to be concerned, but it was long enough for the Autumn Court to inflict permanent damage.
You let out a shaky breath, grief already swimming in your chest. Grief for what could have been with you and Azriel if you hadn't been so scared. If you had told him sooner about the bond that had snapped for you. If you hadn't been so focused on him wanting you for you and not the idea of the bond.
“I need you to promise me you'll tell him."
Tears leaked from your eyes, and you tried to hold back your cries. You didn't want your life to end so sadly. You wanted to be able to speak with your friend, pretend like everything was okay, reminisce on the happy times you had with the people you loved.
Instead, you were laying nearly completely bare on a concrete floor, shackled, covered in blood, tears, and vomit. Your body had been taken apart, your skin flayed open, beaten. You thought you must look like an animal on a butcher's board, your body a canvas of gore.
Cassian was not unharmed either. When they had captured the two of you, they had shot him down with faebane arrows: a dozen or two of them. His wings were severely injured, and his power was subdued from the faebane. He had taken beatings as well, but when they realized how well-trained the general had been in withstanding interrogations, they turned to you.
Inflicting damage on your body was a way to get either yourself or Cassian to talk. They taunted him with your pain, and you felt guilty that this would most likely haunt him as much as it haunted you. Would he forgive himself for doing the right thing and protecting his court?
The two of you were on your way to meet with Eris to go over some plans when you were ambushed by Beron's men. Based on their line of questioning, they still did not know of the eldest son's plans of a coup, but they were suspicious of the Night Court presence in their land.
They used the opportunity to not just ask why you were there, but to interrogate you about the new Night Court addition: Nyx. They wanted to know about his powers, how strong he seemed to be, if he can be used as a weapon, how many guards are constantly with him...
But you and Cassian would never betray your family nor your court.
So when Cassian refused to answer, and the whip came down on your torso, you tried to block out his yells, his growls, his apologies. You tried to block out the pain as the leather cleaved into your skin, flaying it open until muscle showed. You focused on what you would do when you got out of here; how you would go to the library with Nesta and pick out new books, how you would go shopping with Mor, how you would go flying with Azriel.
You focused on happy memories with your friends as fists landed on your cheeks, dug into your ribs. As Cassian took blows, you tried to remember the way he'd make you laugh, contorting his groans of pain into his teasing hums and chuckles.
But as you laid in a pool of your own blood, the taunts of the soldiers echoed in your head, and you knew what was coming.
Your wings would be next to go, and with that, so would you.
Despite yourself, you wondered how Azriel would react. If he would mourn you, if it would hurt him as badly as losing him would hurt you. You wondered how Cassian would tell him about the mating bond, if he would have Azriel sit down first, if Rhys would be there for support as well.
"We are getting out of here," Cassian said, voice stronger and more determined. "And you are telling him yourself."
But then the cells were opening, footsteps marching down the hall, and three males were walking toward you with purpose. They gripped you by your forearms, pulling you up harshly, and you closed your eyes and tried to swallow your panic down.
The lacerations on your arms and abdomen from the whip were burning with a vengeance, infection certain to be spreading from the dirt pressed into them on the concrete. The males' hands twisted around your wounds, and you gasped weakly at the pain as they hauled you to your knees.
The shackles were connected to a hook on the wall, lifting your arms slightly, allowing them full access to your back. Your back that they had not whipped, because they were waiting for this.
"Daisy," he called your nickname -- the one given to you by Azriel when you all were only kids. "Look at me. Just look at me, alright? I'm here."
Your whole body was shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation at what was to come. Panic was suffocating you, building in your chest and making its way up your throat, and you thought your bladder might have even released with how petrified you were.
Cassian's voice was still echoing in the background, but you could only focus on the clanging of chains, the footsteps behind you, the sound of a sword unsheathing.
Your fingers dug into the shackles, fingers white with how hard you were gripping them, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.
"Lord of Bloodshed..." one of the males taunted, spinning the sword around in his hand. "I think you know what this is for."
You drowned out the male's voice. His nasally, grating, voice that seemed to irritate your ears. You drowned out the words that would doom you, focusing instead on listening to your own breathing and heart beat.
You were alive. You were strong.
There was silence after a while, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, tried not to sob.
“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cassian cried.
You tried to suck in a breath, tried not to let his protection of his nephew, his protection of his brother, of his court, hurt you. But the sword came down, and your lungs were not yet filled with air.
You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe.
It was like your limb was being torn from your body, nerve endings flaying open, on fire, agony coursing through your veins and sending a shock through your body all the way to your head.
You thought you might have made a noise, but you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears, and your chest seemed stuck.
Blood splattered across the wall as he pulled the sword out of your wing. It hadn’t gone all the way through; instead, it had gotten stuck in one of the lines of thick membrane, and you gagged when he pulled it from where it had stopped, tissue separating with the motion.
It came down again, a hacking motion, unclean and barbarous, dragging through tendons and nerves.
You had never been in so much pain before. You thought you might be going into shock, your body shaking, stomach nauseous, vision going fuzzy, ears ringing with white noise.
You were only semi-aware of the burning coming up your throat, of the smell of your own vomit.
Cassian’s voice was muffled, drowned out in your mind, but you could hear the sorrow, the panic, the guilt.
Your hands were limp in the shackles, body slumped forward into the wall when the first wing fell to the floor with a thump.
You thought you heard Cassian retching.
And when the sword came down toward the second wing, your adrenaline now out of your system, you couldn’t help the piercing scream that echoed off the walls. You screamed and sobbed and shook until the hacking broke through the second wing too, slicing and grinding it to the floor.
Your entire body was covered in sweat. Cheek pressed to the wall, arms hung above your head but body hanging limp. You tried to stay conscious. You tried to focus on the sounds of Cassian’s sobs, the way he called your name and tried to get your attention. You tried to blink the dizziness away, tried to focus on the blood pooling around you into a large circle.
But everything ached and stung.
As the shackles were released from the wall, weight now imbalanced, your body didn’t even know which way to fall.
You landed in a puddle of your own blood, urine, vomit, and tears. But you were too tired to move, too hurt to move. So you laid there, cheek pressed into the sticky, hot, red liquid, and watched as your friend begged you to stay awake.
Breath stuttering in your chest, blood wavering in front of your mouth with each heave, you reached a hand out to your friend. Just barely. With only enough strength to inch your fingers forward, your body twitching with pain and exertion, you made the motion, tried to communicate that you did not blame him, that you understood, even if your chest ached with hurt.
And then you were going in and out of darkness.
There were times you could hear voices, ones you recognized. Other times it was peacefully quiet. You tried to bask in those moments, where there was no pain or noise—only you and your mind. Where you could pretend like everything was fine and you and Cassian had never left for the Autumn Court early that morning. Or that you had met with Eris as planned, gotten the intel you needed, and returned in time for supper.
But those voices would interrupt your peaceful state, arguing and panicking.
You’d hear glimpses.
You make one wrong touch and you’re dead.
Big threats from a bedridden brute.
You were only brought back to full consciousness briefly when you felt a searing hot pain in your back, pulling you from your sleep gasping for air.
You were on fire, dear gods, you were burning alive.
And then Cassian was in your eyesight, his hazel eyes shining with concern. His hand reached out to cradle your head where it laid atop a pillow, the other stretched across the tops of your shoulders to keep you held down onto the table.
“I know, I know,” he reassured quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”
But you didn’t believe him. How could you be okay when you felt like this? When you didn't even understand what was happening?
You were choking on your own cries, on the tears and drool pooling in your mouth. Cassian tried to wipe them away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering encouraging words into your ear.
Your fingers grasped at the wood underneath you, your legs kicking at an invisible weight holding your lower half down.
“Please-“ your voice shook as your body trembled. “Stop.”
You could feel yourself losing consciousness again, your vision going spotty, the pain too much for your weak, shocked body to handle.
“Eris…” Cassian warned, his tone threatening.
“Do you want her to live?”
You didn’t think you would live past this though. This was unbearable. Pure hot torture raging across the skin of your back and melting the muscle, nerves, and bone.
Distantly, you realized what they were doing. They were cauterizing the wounds. Burning the flesh to stop the bleeding, to give you a chance at healing before it was too late.
Mouth dry, your voice gave out, and you let out hoarse squeaks of pain.
It could have been sixty seconds or five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the weight on your legs shifted, and the fire edged away.
Your lashes and cheeks were wet with your tears, tongue bitten in your screaming. And as you tried to breathe again, tried to focus on Cassian’s voice as he addressed Eris, on his hand stroking your hair back, you thought of where you could be. If you were actually going to make it back to the Night Court, if you were actually going to survive this.
Gruesome lashes ached on your legs, abdomen, and arms. The weightlessness at your back paired with the smell of burnt flesh brought an image of barbecue to your brain that had you gagging again.
You might survive, but your body wouldn’t. This was no longer you, no longer the body you would have willingly given to Azriel, with the glowing bond in its chest he remained unaware about.
It was hacked and burnt and damaged and-
“We’re gonna get you home,” you heard Cassian speaking softly to you.
Eris moved around in the background, gathering and packing up supplies in another room of whatever isolated home he had brought you to. You never thought you’d be so grateful to see the auburn-haired male, or that he’d actually put his ass on the line to save you, but here he was.
Had he heard you were captured upon your missed meeting? Did he release you himself?
You knew he would have to find a way to explain how you two got out from the cells. It would most likely end in some form of physical abuse toward him from Beron. The thought made your stomach turn with more sorrow and guilt.
“Eris sent a letter to Rhys. He knows where we are, and he’ll be here soon.”
You let the words comfort you, your eyes fluttering shut and muscles trying to relax after being attacked.
A sharp pain separate from the physical torture you endured burned in your heart, though, as you realized how everything was going to change. Your wings were gone. They took your wings, and with it any happiness or confidence you had felt.
You felt tears swim in your vision, your eyes so exhausted you could barely keep them open enough for the liquid to fall down your cheeks. Cassian immediately wiped them away with his thumb, his brow scrunched in concern as he watched you.
“My wings-” your voice wobbled, and Cassian immediately brought his head to yours in a makeshift hug.
“I know,” he tried to soothe, his voice pinched with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Daisy.”
Eris appeared once again, carrying a blanket and what looked like a loose nightgown. You only then realized how bare you still were from the dungeon and your injuries.
“Here,” the usually cold Autumn lord set the clothes to the side, pulling the blanket out instead. He draped it across your body, adjusting it so it covered from your shoulders to your toes. Cassian gave him a somewhat surprised and suspicious glance, but nonetheless nodded his head at the male gratefully.
“Rhys responded and should be here any minute. The wards are open to him. I assume he is collecting his own healer-”
Eris didn’t even have a chance to finish before shadows materialized in the corner of the room, an intimidating presence taking up the space and charging for the auburn-haired male.
“What the hell did you do?”
“Azriel-” Cassian jumped to his feet, pulling the shadowsinger back. Azriel’s eyes remained locked on the Autumn Court heir, though, his eyes promising a pain he knew all too well how to deliver. “He got us out. We got caught, and he helped us. Without him, she'd be dead.”
Azriel swallowed harshly, body tense with anger. He seemed to take the moment to consider the words, to consider if he believed in their truth. Ultimately, he dropped his hands and turned toward where you laid.
His face crumpled, all anger and drive deflating into devastation.
Feet carrying him over to you, he fell to his knees in the same spot Cassian had just occupied.
“Oh gods…” he breathed, shaking hand coming to rest against your cheek.
You tried to blink up at him, but your vision was still slightly blurred. You could still see the concern in his eyes, though. The way the green and brown melded together with worry and care, sparking the gold tether in your chest alive.
“My sweet Daisy,” he muttered to himself. “What have they done to you?”
Daisy. The nickname was sweet on his lips, sweet as the day he labeled you as his flower. The young boy who had taken a look at the young Illyrian female ravaging her horrible family's garden in a rage and had endearingly called her Daisy. Had compared her to the pretty life that could grow in a horrible place, in horrible soil that kept preventing her from sprouting.
You didn't know what to tell him. Your body still shook with pain, adrenaline, and shock.
You heard Rhys arrive, heard Cassian and Eris explaining what had occurred to the high lord and his healer. You heard Madja curse at the arrow wounds in Cassian's wings, and Cassian insist she help you first.
"You're going to be okay," Azriel placed a soft kiss to your fingertips peeking out from the top of the blanket. "And I am going to make them pay. They are going to regret ever touching you."
You tried to focus on his pretty eyes, his dark eyelashes highlighting the light hazel. He looked so worried, so hurt himself.
Shuffling behind you made your breath hitch, and then the blanket was being moved down your back, exposing your wounds to the cold air.
You winced, a sound you would equate to a wounded animal echoing into the solemn room. Azriel’s hand gripped your own, eyes watching your reaction intently.
But you watched as his eyes moved from your own to glance at what everyone else was seeing—what Madja was here to work on. His face immediately paled, his jaw clenching tight, and his fingers digging into your own.
Did it look as bad as it felt?
You wondered if someone would be able to find you beautiful after this. If Azriel would be able to look at your skin and see a pretty female and not someone who had been put through a meat grinder.
He swallowed harshly, ripping his eyes away from your back and locking onto your own again.
His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he was trying to contain himself, reign himself in from exploding.
“I didn’t tell them,” you finally spoke. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and throwing up, and dry from lack of water.
Azriel looked as if you had hit him, and you heard Rhys immediately come to your side next to the shadowsinger. He knelt down and placed a kiss to the sweaty skin at your temple, stroking your hair lovingly before looking at you sternly.
“All we care about right now is that our friend is alive and safe. Don’t worry about anything else right now. I’m not.”
“They wanted Nyx,” you croaked.
Rhysand looked haunted but not surprised. “Cassian told me. We will figure it out and plan for the worst.”
You didn’t answer the high lord, focusing on your breathing as Madja began skimming her hands over the gouges in your back.
Violet eyes met your own, and the hazel eyes next to him watched the healer’s actions with intensity. “I will never be able to repay the price you paid to keep my family safe. I am forever indebted to you.”
Tears fell down Rhys’ cheeks, and you wished you could hug him, the male you think of as a brother. But then you thought of how odd that would feel for you—for him—to hug without your wings.
You remembered his story of being captured during the war. How he said he went through endless abuse and torture, but they didn't touch his wings. He had said that touching them would have been the one way to get him to talk.
But you didn't.
“I’d do it again-” you began to say, but you were cut off by Madja’s actions, a piercing pain shooting through you. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut and hand clamping down on Azriel’s.
“Rhys.” Azriel demanded. What he was demanding, you weren’t sure. But his voice was firm, strong, a tone you hadn’t heard him use before with his brother.
Rhys seemed to understand though, because he stood and walked a few steps to the top of your head, putting a hand there.
“Can I take some of your pain away?” He asked gently, voice still strained from the emotions he showed.
You could barely give a nod of your head with how badly your muscles were tensed in agony. But he saw it, and as you felt the mental talons drag along the walls of your mind, your tear-filled eyes met Azriel’s.
“I’m so proud of you,” the shadowsinger said, eyes gleaming with sorrow. “My strong Daisy. My brave, brave girl.”
And with some of the pain gone—there, but now slightly more bearable as the healer worked—you could breathe a bit easier.
Azriel continued speaking to you, distracting you from the work going on around your body. “Before you know it, we’ll be back in Velaris. We can go to that bookstore you like and pick out as many books as you want. I’ll read one with you, if you want. Even one of those romances you like so much.”
He tried to give you a soft smile, but it looked sad, and it made your heart hurt.
A rough twist near your back and a sob escaped your mouth. Rhys’ energy swarmed stronger in your mind, and Azriel was quick to lean forward, face inches from your own, eyes drowning in fear and worry.
“I’ve got you,” he repeated, voice heavy with panic. “Just focus on me. I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta do it. You’re almost done, sweetheart. Just hold on a bit longer.”
Your cries were becoming louder and you could hear Azriel cursing, could see through your tears the way he tipped his head up to look at Rhys in desperation.
“Can we put her to sleep?” He asked toward the healer, and if you didn’t know what he asked, the sound of his voice would have made you think he was begging.
It was silent for a moment, and you could feel Azriel’s hands start shaking around your limp one in his grasp.
Madja finally responded, sounding grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t want to risk it.”
“What can I do?” Azriel pleaded toward the healer.
You tried to control your sobs, control the way your body convulsed at the touches of the healer behind you. But it was excruciating, the lack of wings, the deep tendons, muscles, bones, and nerves ripped from your skin and haphazardly cauterized despite possible infection. And now to try to fix the rushed burns, to check for infection and draw it out...
“Keep her awake.”
Azriel’s head dipped down for a moment, either in sorrow or in order to compose himself. But then he was looking at you, so lovely and beautiful you nearly felt like you were dreaming.
And he tried to sound positive, his voice going up a bit to sound lighter, but it was strained and not entirely convincing.
“I found that cat you have been following around Velaris. The stray that tries to sneak into the coffee shop? I guess some of the customers feed him. They call him Bix, and he lives under the porch of the place.”
Your vision swims as you try to pay attention to what he is saying, and his fingers lightly tap your cheek.
“I'll take you to visit him soon. Okay? I'll even pet him this time."
You tried to smile at the image of the stoic shadowhunter holding a cute stray cat, but even the muscles in your face felt heavy and lethargic.
"Maybe we can get you a cat," he continued when he saw you listening. "I know you’ve always wanted one. And Rhys would probably give you fifty now if you asked.”
His voice was soothing, and the more he spoke, the more you wanted to sleep. His presence was like a balm to the last ten hours, the scent of him, the feel of his hand in yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, all reminded you that you were safe again.
Rhys’ power rushed through you, and you could feel your body start to go numb, the pain ebbing away thanks to your friend and high lord.
Now you were just tired. So so tired.
“Hey-” Azriel sat up a little straighter, the movement pulling your eyelids open once more. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. You can sleep soon, I promise. Just not yet.”
But you could barely hear him. Your mind was already falling, vision warping into a blurry vignette.
Azriel was here. You were safe.
“Madja-” Azriel's voice became more frantic as he watched you start to fade. In a panic, he stood from his position at your side and gripped your face in both his palms.
His fingertips were gentle on your face as they lightly tapped, trying to get your attention without hurting you. When you didn’t respond, your heavy eyelids beginning to succumb to sleep, he began to tap a little harder, his strong hands trying to pull you back up.
The last thing you heard before finally allowing a pain free and peaceful rest to overtake you was Azriel pleading your name, a shuffle of two bodies, and then his touch being gone, his deep voice suspended in the room instead—a darkness trailing underneath it that would have had you on your knees if not for you floating into unconsciousness.
“Prepare for a war, Rhysand. Because if she doesn’t wake up, I will slaughter every last member of the Autumn Court.”
Before darkness enveloped you, you briefly wondered if their bodies would look like your own when he was finished.
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I've Been Waiting For You | Azriel
summary: Azriel finally meets the one he's been longing for. His mate.
warnings: mentions of death (since the suriel & reader are friends); some angst but also fluff because Az deserves to be happy ♡
a/n: This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (: The lyrics kind of reminded me of Alice & Jasper from twilight and how she had a vision of meeting him. This does go back and forth a lot in the beginning between past and present and came out longer than I thought it would. It's 9.6K words (which for me is long lol.) I apologize if there are any spelling errors. I've read this multiple times but somehow, always miss a couple.
As the moonlight dances upon the water's surface, the river transforms into a liquid ribbon of silver, weaving through the city of Starlight. Anticipation fills the air as Azriel walks across the bridge that spans the Sidra, his massive Illyrian wings glistening in midnight hues under the pale moonlight.
Shadows play hide-and-seek as they travel through the night, drawn to the silhouette of a female figure. An intruder. Yet, Azriel's shadows dare to whisper something different into his ears.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Your voice, carried by the wind, reaches him like a sweet caress, daring to awaken something deep within him. Beautiful. His shadows respond with a frenzy, a whirl of darkness singing wild tales into his ears, urging him forward. Meanwhile, his brain screams at the potential threat.
More tendrils of darkness dart toward you, ignoring their master’s orders to return. You don’t seem bothered by them. In fact, you seem to welcome them as if they’re old friends of yours.
Azriel swallows, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, unsure what to make of this.
“Who are you?”
Finally, you turn around and Azriel feels like the wind has been knocked out of him when his gaze meets yours. In the midst of the surrounding darkness, your eyes gleam with an inexplicable brightness. Specs of silver glimmer in your eyes, mirroring the stars above, as they shine back at him.
“That’s for you to decide,” you reply with a smile that carries both hope and a sense of knowing as you follow after him and take a step forward.
“But for now, I’d like to speak with your High Lady.”
Months before…
The brilliance of a thousand stars shine down on you and the night seems to hold its breath, as if it too, awaits the whispered prophecies from the celestial expanse above. Like always, you are itching to unveil them with your finely attuned senses. A gust of cool wind brushes through your hair, sending shivers down your exposed skin. Pulling your gaze away from the night sky, you turn in time to see a cloaked figure approaching like a shadow in the night.
Your lips curve into a smile. “Hello, friend.”
“y/n.” The Suriel greets you, hovering beside you. Then, not missing another beat, he says, “I told her Rhysand was her mate.”
Your eyes widen in surprise, a gasp escaping your lips. “You did not.”
“I did.” He grins back at you, flashing you his stained teeth.
You can’t help but laugh a little at your dear old friend. The Suriel lets out a rattled sound you discern as a laugh as he joins you. Always the one for dramatics. You still remember hearing about his first encounter with Feyre Archeron and how he told her to stay with the High Lord.
“I told her she must stay with the High Lord.”
“Did you specify which one?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
“I’m sure she handled it well,” you respond but your smile fades, giving way to a wistful expression. “She’s lucky. Not only is she made but the Cauldron has blessed her with a mate. The High Lord of the Night Court at that.”
The weight of his gaze settles upon you. You’re aware that your words carry a tinge of envy, a sentiment that feels unjust when considering everything Feyre has endured. The Suriel, ever perceptive, acknowledges this as well. He chooses not to remind you and indulges you instead.
“The Cauldron has blessed you as well, my child.”
“Have you seen it?”
Hope sparks in your eyes as you turn to face him. His eyes, pools of ancient wisdom, seem to pierce through the veils of time and secrets. You sense one of them unfolding. But he only gives you a teasing glimpse.
“Perhaps.”
With a furrow in your brows, you lift your head back up to glare at the night sky. The stars seem to blink at you in a teasing manner, as if finding amusement in keeping this secret from you.
“How come I haven’t seen it?”
“You will soon.” He reassures, following your gaze upwards. A dance of amusement swirls within the depths of his eyes. “He’s waited centuries for you. Count your stars lucky that your waiting won’t be as long.”
Back to the present…
Velaris lived up to its name. A dream compared to the horrors of the city you grew up in. But as the city sparkles and comes to life at the darkening hour, all your attention is drawn to the male before you. He’s even more breathtaking in person. Everything about him is classically beautiful and the moon seems to agree, shining down on him and casting an ethereal glow on the golden-brown of his skin.
As Azriel continues to approach you, his wings fold gracefully behind him. His gaze is locked onto yours and though his eyes are cautious and analytical, there’s a warm shiver running down your spine. The desire to lose yourself in the hazel depths of his eyes becomes an irresistible pull.
Before you know it, the shadows brushing against your arms rise and come to rest against your eyes in a blindfold. Darkness engulfs you, and the sensation of weightlessness takes hold as Azriel winnows both of you. You land on a soft cushion–a chair. The dark tendrils leave your eyes and wrap around your wrists and legs, binding them together.
“Stay here.” Azriel says, the shadows wrapped around your limbs tightening in a silent warning.
A chuckle escapes from you and when your eyes meet his again, you flash him a mischievous smile. It widens when he’s the first to fold, quickly averting his gaze. He has no clue. You’re exactly where you want to be.
He leaves the room and your eyes finally take in your surroundings. Veiled curtains made of midnight blue silk drape the expansive windows, pulled back to allow moonlight to filter through. Shelves line the walls, housing collections of ancient artifacts and magical trinkets. A large desk, crafted from dark, polished wood rests before you. Your gaze fixates on the wall behind it, where a captivating portrait of the female you seek rests.
The door behind you swings open, and you turn to witness the graceful entrance of the female from the portrait. Feyre, the Cursebreaker and High Lady of the Night Court. She's a vision of night and beauty, her golden-brown hair cascading down her exposed back, revealing glimpses of moon phases etched along her spine.
“High Lady,” you say in greeting, bowing your head in respect.
Surprisingly, the High Lord doesn't accompany her. Instead, it's Azriel who trails behind her. Her calm blue eyes assess you as she takes a seat across from you. Azriel stands guard behind her and you feel his shadows watching your every breath.
"And who might you be?"
“I’m y/n,” you respond, choosing your next words carefully. “An old friend of the Suriel’s. I’ve come to pledge my allegiance to you and offer my help.”
Something flickers in her blue eyes at the mention of the Suriel and her stoic expression falters, if only for a moment. You send her a sympathetic smile, your own heart aching at the mention of the fearsome creature you both held dear.
“Your help?” She echoes.
"She’s a seer," Azriel interjects, his voice setting your heart alight as there's no hint of disgust or apprehension in his tone.
Your kind is often regarded with hostility. He might not know your connection...yet. But he’s paid you enough attention to recognize your abilities and appears to be indifferent about them. If the Suriel were still alive, you know he’d laugh at your slight delusion.
"I am," you confirm. "And I know your sister is one too." You don’t miss the tension in Azriel’s body at the mention of the cauldron-made fae, but you don't dwell on it as you can also sense Feyre's protectiveness. "She has great potential. I can help her hone her skills. Together, we can—"
"No," Azriel growls protectively. His sharp interruption has you startling in your seat and hope deflates as you feel the intensity of his glare.
Feyre raises a hand, signaling him to stand back. “Why should I trust you?”
“Let me show you.”
Months before…
“By the Cauldron, what did you get yourself into?”
The Suriel grins mischievously, his tattered cloak barely clinging to his bony form. He graciously accepts the cloak you offer, a luxurious piece made of the softest velvet in the darkest shade of black you could find. A purr escapes him as he revels in its warmth. "Nothing," he responds coyly, the satisfaction evident in the bounce of his form as he hovers in the air.
You shoot him a pointed look, yearning to know what he was up to. You’re certain it was no good. “Sure,” you retort and then gesture toward the crackling fire you started. “I also made dinner.”
“You spoil me.”
“It’s what friends do.”
"Friend," he muses, the white pools of his eyes burning into your soul, as he turns to you. "As a friend, I should tell you that your dress is absolutely atrocious on you. Cobalt blue is more your color."
With a glare, you playfully throw the roasted chicken over the fire at his face. He effortlessly catches it with his mouth, cackling as he chews on the tender piece of meat.
"What do you know about fashion? All you do is thirst for robes."
“You forget that I am older than the bones of this world. I know everything about everything. I also cannot lie.”
"Doesn't stop you from hiding the truth," you respond cheekily, and he hums in agreement,
Silence falls as he seats himself beside you on the ground. He breaks it a couple of moments later. “Remember what I told you last time?”
You release a deep sigh because you do remember. The mere thought haunts you nearly every night, and you’re often burdened by the heavy weight of it. Your shoulders slump in response. “Why can't you do it yourself?”
“It is your fate, not mine,” he states simply, a reminder of the immutable laws of destiny.
“I’m not ready.”
You don’t think you ever will be and suddenly, you’re that fragile sixteen year old again, who had to run away from the only place you called home to escape a cruel fate. The one who was left to navigate through her new onset of divine abilities alone.
That is, until, the fateful night you had thrown your cloak over a tree branch to dry. It had been stained by blood after a rough and almost deadly encounter with a stray naga so you had spent all morning cleaning it in the river nearby. Completely unaware of the Suriel you were summoning.
“You do not fear me?”
“That is mine,” you had said through clenched teeth with a deep rooted glare.
In the midst of your tug of war with the Suriel, your cloak tore in half. In that moment, you braced yourself for the dark creature's wrath. However, something in you captured his attention that day, and he chose not to unleash his fury upon you. He decided to take you under his wing instead.
He recognized your lineage without a single word spoken about it. He could sense your power coursing through your veins, waiting to be unraveled. After decades of patience and practicing, he was there to witness the formation of stars weaving themselves into the depths of your eyes. The mark of your seer abilities.
As always, the Suriel reads you like an open book. He can sense your insecurity, your hesitancy. But, in equal measure, he can sense your power, your potential.
“You will be,” he insists, his words carrying the unwavering certainty of the all-knowing creature he is. “You must guide and open the eyes of Elain Archeron the same way I did for you.”
Your throat tightens. “When?”
“Soon.”
And when you look up to gaze at the night sky, the stars align for you. A cascade of visions unfurls, pouring over you like a celestial waterfall. Your eyes become a myriad of galaxies and ears are teased with glimpses of conversations and whispers from the stars above. One moment, you’re in a forest, standing before a female figure crouched over a cloaked one.
“The tracking…I knew of it.”
Then, a rattling breath. “Leave this world a better place than how you found it.”
Abruptly, the scene shifts, and you stand in an enchanting city of starlight, gazing at the expansive river before you as anticipation fills the air. He comes for you. Azriel, the shadowsinger. The name resonates in the echoes of your mind.
Then, the final vision envelopes you, drawing you into the depths of mesmerizing hazel eyes. The voice that accompanies it is carried by the enchantment of night, gently caressing against your ears.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
Mate. That is your mate. Azriel, the–
“Do you see it now?”
With a sharp intake of breath, you’re pulled from the downpour of your visions, only to find your senses clouded with tears that pool at the corners of your eyes. How cruel, you think, your heart twisting in agony. And though meeting your mate–your fated companion–was among your greatest dreams, you no longer want it. Not if it means you’ll lose your greatest companion.
You can live without knowing your mate. After all, you’re doing so at this very moment. The Suriel has been your friend for decades. Two souls brought together by their mutual loneliness. An all knowing creature and a seer. Together, you’re a powerful duo, navigating through the fated intricacies of Prythian. You’d be lost without him.
“Please don’t go,” you’re begging.
The Suriel smiles but it’s not his usual mischievous grin. This time, a tinge of sorrow lingers in the curve of his lips, casting his expression in a veil of sadness.
“I have to. It’s my time to go,” he says. “Just promise me one thing?”
“Anything.”
“That when it’s your time to shine, you’ll find Feyre. Help her make this world a better place.”
Back to Present
Feyre blinks back tears as she withdraws from your mind. She turns her head toward the Shadowsinger behind her, and for a moment, fear grips you. You allowed her to see the revelation of Azriel being your mate but only because it was deeply entwined with the other pertinent visions.
“Release her.”
The shadows release their grip on you and you let out a deep exhale in relief. But the inky tendrils don’t leave your side. They linger and hover over you and at this, Azriel’s eyebrows furrow.
Feyre extends her hand out toward you. Her blue eyes are warm, a gentle reassurance that she’d harbor your secret for you. A smile graces her lips, one that you're happy to reciprocate.
“I’ll gladly accept your help but let me speak with Elain first. You may stay here. There’s a spare room upstairs. Azriel will show you around.”
Following his High Lady’s orders, Azriel shows you around the grand estate. He’s a bit reserved around you and you don’t blame him. Both a blessing and a curse, your visions offer insight into his world, yet you're a mere stranger imposing on the family he protects fiercely.
And as he finally shows you to your room, the one right next to his, you can only hope that someday, he’ll welcome you too. After all, he is your mate.
Elain Archeron is infinitely beautiful. Inside and out. She is gentle and sweet and you see why some mistake her kindness for weakness. But it took only days for you to become well aware of the strength and power she harbors deep within.
While your abilities were limited to what the stars wanted to show you, you sensed that hers were limitless. With the right training, she could summon visions at her call, anticipate anyone's move. You wanted to help her achieve that and prove those people that saw her as something fragile wrong. Though reluctant toward your help at first, Elain was kind enough to listen to you and consider the advice you gave. It took some further convincing but you knew she was itching to unravel the depths of her powers too.
But it's proving to be a challenge. A hard and exhausting one. You're not surprised. It took you many years to become attuned to your powers. What is surprising, however, are Azriel's feelings for her. They're obvious and plain to see and could you blame him? Elain is wonderful...and you can't help but compare yourself to her. She's everything you're not.
Upon your arrival, you had been set on making Azriel fall for you. That was, until, you realized he was already entangled in the threads of another's heart. Could it be that the Suriel, in his all knowing wisdom, purposefully shielded you from such revelations about your mate? To delay the shattering of your dreams?
Now, you were just content to focus on your task at hand. To help Elain the way the Suriel did with you, even if Azriel was there as a safety net for her every session. Even if the way he was well attuned to every shift of her expression sent a sharp pain stabbing through your heart. He was blissfully unaware of your connection, clouded by his affection for Elain.
And you were tired of chasing after males. It's why you shot down Feyre's suggestion of confessing to Azriel. You dreamed of having a mate, pleaded to the Cauldron even. Now, you realize, that you want Azriel to like you for you. To chose you too the way Feyre did with Rhysand. If Elain was the person he chose at the moment, then so be it.
"I don't chase. I attract," you told Feyre. The same words you had uttered to the Suriel years ago after he poked fun at you over a failed romance. One of many, unfortunately.
"The only thing you'll attract with that attitude of of yours is a dark cloud of shadows," The Suriel had laughed at you, earning an icy glare from you.
But Feyre is much nicer about it than your dear old friend. She gives you an encouraging smile instead and wishes you luck on your upcoming session with Elain.
Your session with Elain ends terribly–with her screaming in pain and Azriel glaring at you and telling you to go, despite your attempts at apologizing. You spend the following days, weeks even, trying to make up for it. You slowed down in pace in your exercises with Elain, despite her protests. She held no animosity toward you at the dark turn that session had made.
You also buried yourself into any book you could find about seers in the magnificent Night Court library, grieving and longing for the Suriel. He would know what to do, and know exactly how to help. It’s the mere thought of him that fuels your determination to keep trying, despite how much you want to leave. It’s laughable almost, how in the midst of so many people, the sense of loneliness weighs heavier on you than it ever did in the solitude of Prythian's forests.
But perhaps, a break wouldn't be such a bad idea? You think as your gaze lands on an intriguing cover. It's a work of pure fiction. The ideal escape from reality. Retrieving it from its shelf, you settle into one of the plush chairs and immerse yourself into the words etched onto the pages.
“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”
A nudge against your leg startles you awake, and as you blink away the remnants of sleep, your eyes widen at the sight of Azriel standing before you. Sleeping beauty, the words sink in, painting a soft blush over your cheeks.
“You missed dinner.”
“Oh.”
You turn your head, wincing at the dull ache in your neck from sleeping in an awkward position. The soft glow of the moon greets you through one of the library's windows. You don’t know when you had fallen asleep but you must’ve been out for hours. When you face Azriel again, your gaze drops to his hands, where he holds a carefully arranged plate of food. Your stomach growls as the scent hits you and your eyes linger on the generous serving of potatoes–your favorite–in comparison to the other vegetables and meat.
“Is that for me?” you ask, and immediately curse yourself for the seemingly silly question. You blame it on the lingering grasp of sleep, still reluctant to release its full grip on you.
"No, it's for the rats that come out at night," he replies, lips twitching upwards at the reaction it stirs from you. How the Suriel never scared you but a couple of hairy, smaller creatures do is beyond you. He places the plate on the small table beside you.
"Yes, it's for you. A peace offering. For snapping at you."
"That was two weeks ago.”
"Bet you didn't see it coming," he teases, and you find yourself blinking in surprise. The Shadowsinger cracking a joke? It's a sight to behold. At least for you.
Your eyes narrow. "Did Feyre send you?"
"No," Azriel replies simply, his tone carrying a sincerity that sets a flicker of hope alight in you. He then sighs. "I just realized I haven't been the most welcoming, that's all."
You smile in response and shift in your seat as you turn your body towards the food. The movement has the book in your lap falling. His hand reaches the book before yours could and the brush of your skin against his sends a delightful shudder through your body.
His eyes curiously look over the title and when he hands it back to you, you take note of the way he avoids looking at his scarred fingers. So you reach forward and brush your fingers against his again, letting them linger for a beat longer than before. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes as he meets your gaze, but it vanishes as quickly as it appears.
“That book is one of my favorites," he says, his shadows dancing across his shoulders and peeking curiously at you. "I'm surprised you're into the mystery genre."
"Why?"
“Well, you’re hard to read sometimes. Like a mystery that refuses to be solved.”
An arched brow is your response, but the gleam in your eyes gives away more than you'd like. “Maybe I don’t want to be unraveled.”
Azriel's lips twitch upwards once more. “Maybe it just takes the right person.”
Bathed in the glow of sunlight, you and Elain sit across from one another on the soft bed of green grass. Meanwhile, Azriel leans against a tree, a couple of feet away. His gaze is intense as he watches you two. Too focused on not letting it faze you, you fail to catch the way it softens when he turns to you.
Azriel can’t help but frown when he catches you avoiding his gaze. He wonders if you still harbor some resentment toward the way he had snapped at you awhile back, even though he already apologized for it.
"Close your eyes and focus on your breath," he hears you instruct softly. "Feel the rhythm of the earth beneath you. Attune yourself to the heartbeat of the world around you. What do you hear?”
Elain closes her eyes in deep concentration. “I can hear the wind and the tremble of the grass beneath it. I can hear the wind carry all the way to the sea.”
“Good,” you say and though her eyes remain closed, you smile gently at her. A gesture that sends a rush of warmth through him.
“Now feel the whispers of the unseen.”
“I can’t.” Elain’s eyebrows furrow.
“Here, take my hands,” you say as you reach for hers. “Imagine a pool of water within you, calm and reflective. Use me as a vessel to carry you through it. I’ll guide you to where your visions will manifest.”
Elain does as told. The world stills around you two. You close your eyes. As Elain’s eyebrows relax, your own face contorts in concentration. Azriel feels himself tense when he realizes it’s not concentration etching onto your face–it’s pain. In a heartbeat, he’s kneeling before you and prying your hands apart.
“Stop!”
Your eyes snap open at the sudden disconnection, and Azriel is unsettled by the way you shrink back from him, panic widening your eyes.
“I’m not hurting her!”
But it’s not Elain he’s worried about. He hasn’t even spared her a glance. It’s you–you’re the one that’s hurt. Blood trickles down your nose and he’s urging you to lean forward, gently guiding you with his hands as Elain rushes for a towel.
“Are you okay?”
There’s a dull ache in your head but also one in your heart and you’re too disoriented to stop yourself from saying, “If you stop staring at me like that, I will be.”
Azriel releases a soft chuckle, his muscles relaxing in relief at the playful edge in your tone. Yet, his shadows, wanting to confirm you're okay themselves, flutter toward you in a delicate cloud of darkness.
"Like what?”
“Don’t make me answer that.”
And you’ve never felt more relief at the sight of Elain coming in between you with a towel in hand.
A sudden sound has you stirring from your sleep. Your hand instinctively slides under your pillow, fingers grasping for the dagger you always keep with you when sleeping. The sound comes again and your initially alarmed body relaxes as you recognize it as the sound of someone knocking. Wrapping a robe around your night shift, you head toward the door, expecting Elain on the other side.
Upon opening your door, you’re surprised to find Azriel standing on the other side.
“You’re not going to Starfall?”
“Good morning to you too.”
Azriel’s eyes rake over your form, taking in your disheveled state. His lips curl into a faint smile. "It's noon," he observes in an amused manner.
Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you pivot your head toward the clock that hangs on the wall of your room. There, confirming his statement, the hands point a half hour past twelve. You overslept. You didn’t have any plans today and it seems your exhausted body took advantage of it.
“Is everything okay?”
His voice, laced with genuine concern, draws your attention back to him. The soft furrow of his brow and the warmth in his eyes catch you off guard. You hesitate. You don’t want to lie but you also don’t want to burden him with the truth.
So you settle for a, “Why?”
"I've noticed you haven't been sleeping much," he remarks, and before you can interrupt, he gestures toward his room, the one adjacent to yours. A silent acknowledgment that he's been more attentive than you realized. It pulls at the strings of your heart. "Or attending family dinners, and now Feyre tells me you're not going to Starfall?"
The weight of his observations presses on you. You didn’t think anyone had noticed. "Why do you care?" you retort, your words sharper than intended, and a wince follows.
"Isolation is not a good coping method," he responds, his tone steady and unfazed by your sharpness. "Trust me, I know."
"I don't have a dress." The words escape your lips, but even as you say them, you recognize the feebleness of the excuse.
“I’ll buy you one.”
Heat rises to your cheeks, and you feel a telltale blush spreading as the thought of Azriel buying you a dress takes root. He’s just being nice, you tell yourself. His gaze remains fixed on you, hazel eyes bright and gleaming with curiosity, as if daring you to come up with another excuse.
“Starfall is tomorrow.”
Azriel grins at you. It sends a flutter through your heart and you wonder if he can hear the erratic beat of it.
“Better make haste and get dressed then. We’ve got a couple of hours before the shops close.”
You deliberately take extra time getting ready, a mix of anticipation and apprehension swirling within you as you prepare to spend time with Azriel. Half-expecting a hint of annoyance, you finally open the door to your room, only to find Azriel with a welcoming smile that has the bond in your chest humming. Still, you're met with silence at the other side.
You take a deep breath as he gestures for you to follow him. As you step outside, he offers his arm and winnows you, not wanting to waste anymore time. You both find yourselves in the bustling shopping plaza of Velaris, where the fragrance of blooming flowers and the animated chatter of people embrace you.
Elaborate Starfall-themed displays adorn the shops, enticing you inside. Suddenly, the sheer array overwhelms you, and an urge to step back washes over you. Azriel place a hand on your back, stopping you and guiding you towards one of the shops.
“Welcome!” A voice happily chirps. “How can I help you?”
A stunning female enters your line of sight, her gaze immediately fixating on the male standing behind you. Her lips curve into a captivating smile, causing a twinge of jealousy to flicker within you. It’s short lived as Azriel clears his throat, gently nudging you forward.
“We’re looking for a dress for her.” Azriel speaks for you.
“Splendid! What’s the special occasion?”
“Starfall.” Azriel answers.
The female’s eyes widen, her smile morphing into a strained one. “I’m afraid I’ve sold all my best work already.”
“Oh, that’s alright. Sorry for the trouble,” you quickly reply, attempting to conceal the relief in your voice. Turning to leave, Azriel's hands land on your shoulders, directing you back to face the female.
“I’m sure we can find something in here,” Azriel reassures with a polite smile, scanning the aisles of dresses. “Y/n isn't picky. Right?”
“I can be,” you mumble under your breath.
Azriel lets out a sound, what you discern as a muffled chuckle. He gives your shoulder a squeeze and then leans down toward your ear. “If I were you, I’d take advantage of the situation.”
You turn your head slightly and regret it immediately. It takes all your strength to hold back the shudder your body wants to give at his proximity. He’s so close you can feel his breath fanning against your neck and you wonder what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against that sensitive skin.
It surprises you how quickly you find your voice.
“I’m going to pick the most expensive one.”
“Go ahead,” Azriel says and you can hear the smirk in his voice without having to look at him. He doesn’t allow you to get another word in, urging you forward again to where the female patiently awaits for you.
She lightly grasps your arm, leading you toward a rack of dresses in various styles and colors while Azriel makes himself comfortable on the couch by the fitting room. “You are a lucky lady,” she muses, her hands gracefully exploring the textures of her creations. “I’ve had this shop for centuries and you’re the first lady the Shadowsinger has brought to me.”
A blush warms your cheeks as you divert your attention to the array of beautiful dresses. Each one is a work of art, making you question her earlier claim about not having her best work available. If these weren't her finest creations, the thought of what her best work looked like leaves you intrigued.
The female, who’s name you learn is Willow, has you try on a couple of dresses that differ in styles. You’re reluctant to show Azriel each one but given he’s paying for it and the only other one in this shop, you feel like he should have some say.
“Do you like it?” Willow beams at you, admiring her work.
On the fifth dress, your hands run over the tulle of the vibrant yellow skirt. The fabric feels itchy against your skin, and the color is too bold for your taste. You swear you are not trying to be picky, despite what you told Azriel earlier.
“I li–”
“Let’s try another?” Azriel cuts in as if sensing the lie that was about to unfold. He rises from his seat toward one of the racks and pulls out a dress that caught his eye earlier. “How about this one?”
He holds the dress out to you, smiling softly when you take it from him. It’s much simpler compared to the other dress you’ve tried on but still just as elegant. It’s also soft against your skin. Willow guides you back into the fitting room, deftly assisting you out of the vivid yellow dress and into the cobalt blue silk one.
“I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. Cobalt blue is more your color!" Willow says as she gushes over you.
Her choice of words leaves you momentarily stunned. Cobalt blue is more your color. The exact words the Suriel had spoken to you. Also, the exact same shade as Azriel's siphons. The Suriel must’ve enjoyed himself a lot when he said those words to you. That sneaky little creature... You can hear his laugh echoing through your mind.
As you finally emerge from the dressing room, Azriel can’t help but stare. The fabric drapes gracefully around you, accentuating curves he hadn't noticed before. Sensing his prolonged gaze, your eyes meet his. It was him quickly averting his gaze, a subtle flush coloring his cheeks. He clears his throat, attempting to regain his composure.
"This is the one. It looks…good on you," he manages to say, his voice slightly strained.
“It’s 500 gold marks.”
He picks up on the teasing in your tone and the way Willow shakes her head in reassurance at him. Still, he humors you and says, “I don’t care.”
He’d pay more than 500 gold marks just to make you happy.
Azriel battled with restless thoughts that night, unable to find solace in sleep. Each time he closed his eyes, the vivid image of you in that dress invaded his mind. He couldn’t wait to see you in that dress again. Maybe then, he’d have the courage to compliment you better.
As the sun dipped below the horizon and the first guests arrived for the Starfall celebration, Azriel's eyes eagerly scanned the gathering crowd, seeking a glimpse of you. Just as a twinge of disappointment crept in, his shadows stirred, signaling your proximity. His wings twitched with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight of you. You are absolutely stunning. Breathtaking.
In an instant heartbeat, he’s pushing Cassian, who was ready to fly you up to the House of Wind, aside. With a warning look, Cassian steps away with a chuckle.
"You're here," he whispers, a blend of disbelief and relief saturating his breath.
“Well a very nice male spent a lot of money for me to be here.”
“Well I’m glad.” Azriel chuckles, eyes drinking you in again. Savoring you. “You’re beautiful.”
“So are you.”
Azriel flushes at the unexpected compliment and his shadows to come to life around him. He smiles at you. “Shall we?”
He waits for your nod before carefully hooking an arm beneath your knees, eyes never leaving yours. A thrill courses through him as he revels in the sensation of your arms around his neck, taking delight in the way you feel in his arms. His wings unfurl behind him, preparing for the short flight up. The sound has your eyes fluttering shut, arms tightening around him and face burying into his neck. He finds it absolutely endearing. He never wants to let you go.
Against his wishes, the flight up to the balcony was short. He sets you down, helping you regain your footing, a lingering touch before reluctantly releasing you. There’s still more guests he, unfortunately, has to fly up. It’s as if you sense his internal conflict because you’re turning around to face him, eyes bright and alight.
“Yes, Azriel. I’ll save you a dance.”
The way his name rolls off your tongue sends a thrill up his spine. He opens his mouth to say something but once again, you beat him to it.
"Thought I'd save you the question," you stated, an all-knowing grin gracing your features as you tapped the corner of one of your eyes. Ah, so you had a vision of him. He wonders about the other glimpses you might have seen.
He doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it as Elain is rushing toward you, showering you with compliments. He takes that as his cue to depart. He is determined to finish his tasks in bringing the remaining guests up as fast as he can so that he can return to you and that dance you promised.
Azriel finds himself stealing glances whenever he thinks you won’t notice. The sparkle in your eyes, the way the dress accentuates your features–he can't look away. Caught up in the melody of your laughter, provoked by something Elain said, Azriel and his shadows are too mesmerized in the beauty of you to notice Feyre approaching until she speaks.
"She’s beautiful," Feyre remarks, her eyes following the same path as Azriel's gaze.
A soft affirmation escapes Azriel's lips. "Yes."
Feyre, well aware of the answer, delves further. "You bought her that dress?"
“Yes.”
A mischievous gleam flickers in Feyre's eyes as she delivers her next statement. "You like her."
Azriel's response slips out before he can even grasp the depth of his own admission. "Yes."
He turns to Feyre, his wide eyes betraying the shock of his own revelation. A slight pallor washes over his skin, and Feyre chuckles at his reaction. Sensing the tension in the air, she rests a reassuring arm on his shoulder. “I like her too,” she confesses.
Though, both of them recognize that Azriel's feelings for you run deeper and in more intricate ways than Feyre's own fondness.
“I offered her a place in this court. She said she’d think about it. Maybe you can convince her? The same way you convinced her to come to Starfall,” Feyre says and then with one last pat on his shoulder, she makes her way back toward Rhysand.
Still recovering from the revelation of his own feelings, it takes a while longer for the weight of Feyre’s words to sink in. A mixture of surprise, uncertainty, and a flicker of hope plays out across his features. You weren’t planning on staying? The thought of you leaving–leaving him stirs a feeling in his chest. His eyes seek you out again but you’re no longer standing beside Elain.
In your place, stands Lucien and normally the sight would trigger dark emotions from him. But now? He feels nothing. There’s no sense of envy. His affections have shifted elsewhere.
Azriel’s shadows fall to the floor, slithering against the cool tile like serpents of the night. They lead the way directly to where you stand, by the champagne table. He makes his way toward you and you're downing the rest of the liquid in your glass.
“Azriel.” You smile at him.
“It’s time for you to fulfill the promise you made me.”
“Of course,” you reply, offering him your hand.
Azriel gracefully pulls you into his embrace. One hand wraps around yours while the other rests on your waist. The enchanting melody guides your movements as the two of you glide across the floor.
“Feyre told me she offered you a role in this court.”
Your eyes, wise and mysterious, meet his, and he feels your body tense under his hold. “What else did she tell you?”
“That you’d think about it,” he says, the rhythm of the dance allowing for a moment of ease to settle between you. “You should stay.”
“Why?”
A wistful expression colors your features and the soft glow of stars are reflected in your eyes. The music comes to a gradual end and you free yourself of his hold before the next song begins.
“There’s no one here for me.” You admit and then give a small laugh as you look down. There's a deep, haunting sadness to your laughter, striking a chord within him.
“I’m right here.”
Lifting your head back up, your eyes search his for something with a glimmer of hope. An eternity seems to pass in your gaze. A frown settles over your lips and he feels a tinge of sadness. Whatever you sought, it seems you did not find it.
Suppressing the surge of emotions within him, his hand reaches for yours again. He guides you to somewhere more private, toward one of the balconies that is off limits to the guests. “Talk to me,” he says, his words carrying an invitation for you to unburden your heart.
Your hands grip onto the railing before you and attention is directed up towards the night sky. He mirrors your actions, resting his hands close to yours. So close he can feel your warmth but not close enough to touch.
"It feels weird being here," you sigh deeply. "My mother and I used to sneak out of Hewn City on Starfall just to catch a glimpse of these migrating spirits every year...until she realized what I was. She said I was a curse, said she would turn me into Keir and let him have his way with me if I didn't leave."
Azriel's fingers clench into a white knuckled grip at your words.
"Not that leaving a horrible city such as Hewn was exactly a punishment. It was probably for the best. Still didn't stop me from being scared. It was the first time in my life that I was actually alone. I learned how to survive."
"I met the Suriel a year later. He must've taken pity on me and would visit me without being summoned. Sometimes, it'd be to tease me with some gossip. Other times, to annoy and chide me for my mistakes. Most importantly, he taught me how to not only survive on my own but live alone. I don't know, it's probably silly but I just felt a lot less lonely when I was actually alone than I do here."
“It’s not silly. I used to feel that way too.” Azriel admits and after a moment of silence, he’s turning toward you. “Am I not your friend?”
“I don’t know,” you find yourself saying again, uncertainty clouding your expression. Pausing, you tear your gaze from the night sky to look at him. “Do you want to be?”
“Yes,” Azriel smiles at you. And so much more.
You smile back at him but it doesn’t last long. Turning your head to face directly ahead, you bite the inside of your cheek in hesitation, revealing to Azriel that there’s more troubling you than your sense of loneliness.
“What else?”
“There’s nothing else.”
“y/n.”
“I feel like a failure.”
Azriel's eyes widen, his heart sinking to his stomach. “You’re not,” he reassures quickly.
“I–I just,” you stammer, the weight of self-doubt evident in your voice. “It’s nearing four months since I’ve arrived, and I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface with Elain.”
“How long did it take you to harness your abilities?”
“Decades,” you respond, the admission carrying a hint of sheepishness. “But Elain is different. This is different. I don’t want to disappoint her. Disappoint Feyre. The world we know is crumbling apart, and we don’t have time. If–if we cannot fix it before it’s too late, I will have failed him.”
“Hey, look at me.”
When you don’t, Azriel lightly grips your chin, coaxing your gaze to him. “You’re here, aren’t you? You’re honoring his wish by just being here. Keep trying,” he encourages, wiping away your tears. “I’ll be here with you every step of the way. You’re not alone. We’ll face this together.”
“Together?”
He releases his hold on you, resting his hand once more on the rail. This time, it’s even closer to yours.
“Together,” he confirms, heart swarming with warmth when your hand bridges the gap between you and brushes against his.
And finally, it seems your lonely days are through.
Azriel’s been in love before. Twice. Or at least, he thought it was love. One was unrequited, a silent ache he carried within. The other was forbidden, a love he had clung to with misguided hope. He was beginning to come to the begrudging conclusion that love was simply not meant for him.
Then, you came along. Strange as it seems, you've seemed to have brought back that old feeling to him, awakening something deep inside of him. And though he doesn't know what you did, he thinks--he hopes that you could be the one. The one to possibly release him from the chains of solitude and longing.
You've rarely left his mind since the night he met you. The echoes of your first words to him lingered in his mind long after your encounter, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
Your voice was cloaked in both mystery and certainty, as though you held the threads of destiny within your grasp. It prompted him to ask who you were but your answer, “that’s for you to decide” only gave rise to more questions.
Then, there was that smile. So beautiful, so hopeful. It etched itself into the recesses of his memory. It was a smile no one had ever bestowed upon him before and one he longed to see it again.
And he almost ruined it all–that day he snapped at you after a session gone wrong with Elain. Your intentions were always pure. He knew this. No one was at fault as everything that transpired between you and Elain was completely consensual. But the scream that tore through Elain sent him in a heightened frenzy. He had sworn to Rhysand and Feyre, his High Lord and High Lady, that he would protect Elain. Before he could properly assess the situation, he had roughly pushed you aside with a growl. The hurt that flashed in your eyes in response haunted him nearly every night.
You began to actively avoid his gaze and presence whenever possible, and guilt gnawed at him relentlessly. Even his shadows, missing your attention, seemed angry with him. Truth be told, he was angry with himself too. You had made friends with everyone. Everyone but him.
The following two weeks became a series of futile attempts at groveling, your obliviousness to it all cutting deeper than he cared to admit. The breaking point came when you missed dinner, and he knew it was time to set things right then. So he sent his shadows to look for you and when they reported back to him that you were sleeping in the library, he brought your dinner to you.
After that moment, the atmosphere between you two shifted. He became the chaser, gradually closing the distance between you.
You looked his way more, approached him with a newfound openness, and your conversations became more frequent. You teased him at times, even, with your cryptic words. But rather than frustrating him, it only made him seek you out more. He wanted to be the one to unravel the mystery that was you.
Somewhere down the line, his eyes stopped searching for Elain's. The private moments he sought with her became mere echoes of the past—no more lingering touches, exchanged glances, or pointless conversations. Instead, it was you who occupied the center of his attention, infiltrating his dreams and igniting desires he never knew he harbored.
You eased him like no other, effortlessly coaxing smiles and laughter from him. It was in these moments that the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—he had never truly been in love during the first two instances. What he felt for you was different. He was unwilling to let his feelings linger in the shadows, as they had done before. He yearned for them to step into the light. To be acknowledged and acted upon openly.
He decided to wait until after Solstice to confess to you and hoped that your visions wouldn't give him away.
Laughter and clinks of wine glasses ring through the air. Azriel knows it’s time to open presents, his shadows singing loudly and overwhelming him with information. Cassian is sneaking a peak. Rhysand is rolling his eyes. Elain got Lucien a present. y/n is holding back tears.
Azriel tenses at the last bit of information, eyes immediately finding you. You’re seated beside Feyre–the two of you exchanging smiles. There’s an unwrapped present on your lap and his shadows dart toward it. It’s a small portrait of the Suriel. He hears you thank Feyre and he swears he can feel your ache of grief. He moves to stand from his seat but Elain stops him.
“Happy Solstice,” she says, holding out a small present. He takes the box albeit reluctantly but politely and opens it to find two tickets to an upcoming play.
Elain smiles at the frown he’s trying to hide.
"Elain, I can't--"
“Y/n mentioned always wanting to go see a play. I thought maybe you could be the one to take her. After you confess."
His eyes search hers for any traces of hurt. He’s relieved when he finds none but the frown in his brow remains. “How–”
“She trained me well," Elain replies, eyes shining with an all knowing gleam he's seen in yours. "She deserves to be happy. You both do and something tells me that she’s the one you’ve been waiting for.”
Gods, you and Elain have been hanging out so much with one another that now she’s beginning to talk like you. There's a tightening in his chest, like a band about to snap at her words.
Azriel looks back at Elain in question but she only smiles at him once more before retreating back to where she was sitting previously. Next to Lucien, who also sends a smile his way.
Looking down at the tickets, he thinks of you again. His shadows stir, mirroring the strange sensation in his chest. It’s almost like a pull and his shadows guide him toward it, turning his head for him. Just in time to catch a glimpse of you quietly slipping away from the festivities. His steps quicken as he follows you, pulling his coat along with him.
The soft flakes of snow flutter down, a delicate dance in the winter night. Despite weeks of continuous snowfall, the enchanting beauty of it never fails to captivate you. It differs markedly from the unforgiving snowstorms you endured while wandering the Night Court's forests. Though just as cold, it prompts an involuntary shiver, a reaction to the biting chill in the air.
As the door behind you creaks open, a rush of warmth accompanies its movement. The scent of cedar invades your senses, growing more intense as you feel a fabric drape over your shoulders, bringing forth an intimate warmth.
"Hey," Azriel breathes, a visible puff of white escaping his lips.
"Hi," you smile back at him, your fingers instinctively reaching for the coat that draped over your shoulders. You can't help but notice the thin sweater he wears. "Won't you be cold, though?"
Azriel stops you, securing his coat back onto your smaller frame with a reassuring smile. “I grew up in a camp where it snowed a lot more than this. I’ll be fine.”
You look back up at the night sky. The stars are shining so bright. It makes you wonder if they ever tire. They seem to answer you as their radiant beams cast a celestial glow upon you. Your vision blurs in surrender.
“What are you seeing?” Azriel inquires, curious. He hopes it's not the confession he's aching to spill.
Your eyebrows knit together, and you close your eyes, immersing yourself in deciphering the messages woven between the stars. Upon opening your eyes, you turn to Azriel, a teasing smirk playing on your lips.
“You're going to get frostbite."
Azriel lets out an amused huff. "I don't care. As long as you're warm."
"We should head back inside," you suggest.
"No," Azriel insists, enfolding a wing around your form, anchoring you in place. His shadows can sense you don't want to go back inside yet. "I like being alone with you."
The wind nips at your cheeks, a sensation you welcome as it gives the perfect excuse for the blush creeping across your face. Tearing your gaze away from Azriel before he can discern his effect on you, you quietly share, "Nyx is going to say his first word in three days."
Azriel leans forward and you can feel his anticipation. A familial bet circulates among his uncles and aunts (save for Elain) regarding what the young heir’s first word will be. “What is it?”
“Cas.”
Azriel can't resist glancing back toward the house, his eyes narrowing with a mix of suspicion and curiosity. There, he catches a fleeting glimpse of Cassian playfully hoisting Nyx in the air, the two engaged in a lively game of chase around the living room. When he turns his attention back to you, mischief twinkles in your eyes.
“You’re lying.”
“You fell for it."
And that smile he’s been longing for since he met you graces your lips as you laugh. A sweet and beautiful sound that warms the winter air. Azriel's gaze dips toward your lips, captivated by the sound, before lifting back to meet your eyes. He leans in even closer.
“I fell for you.”
You also lean in, eyes never leaving his. "The answer is yes."
"What?"
Azriel nearly stumbles back, caught off guard, but you remain close, lifting a hand and cradling his cheek. It's surprisingly warm and he instinctively leans into your touch. His eyes widen. Did you—
“To you taking me on a date,” you reveal, your smile deepening, and he swears his shadows snicker in response. “The vision I just saw. It was of me and you at a theater. Next Friday at seven.”
“Next Friday at seven,” Azriel confirms, a tender affection lighting up his expression.
The air seems to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting future. You reach out, tugging at the bond in your chest. Once again, there is only silence. Yet, you can’t bring yourself to care anymore. Not when Azriel is gazing at you as though you are the very stars illuminating the night sky.
And then you're kissing him.
The snow crunches underfoot as Azriel moves, his usually keen senses dulled. His mind is elsewhere, consumed by thoughts of you. Even as the icy missiles fly past him, Azriel remains lost in the memories of shared glances and smiles and the way your lips felt so perfect against his last night.
For the first time in years, Azriel finds himself on the losing side of the annual snowball fight. Oddly, no disappointment lingers, even after meticulous planning for this anticipated victory. All he wants is to return home—to you.
Amidst the snowy chaos, revelation strikes him simultaneously with a snowball from Rhysand. The snap, the bond—everything falls into place. It all makes sense now. Your words when you first met. Elain’s words last night at Solstice. Why your presence thrilled and delighted him. Why he couldn't shake the feeling of love and adoration for you.
You are his mate.
The one he had been longing and pleading for, and the realization left him breathless. He shakes the snow from his face and Rhysand blinks back at him in surprise. The High Lord had been expecting a glare but he only finds pure shock on Azriel’s face.
“Oh come on, I didn’t hit you that hard,” he teases.
“I have to go.”
“If you leave, you’re forfeiting,” warns Cassian, but the glint in his eye betrays a desire for Azriel to leave, eager for a victory.
“I yield,” Azriel says mindlessly, surprising even Rhysand. Feeling his friend's talons probing his mind, Azriel throws up his shields and disappears into his shadows, abandoning the snow-covered battlefield. He'll explain later.
For now, he has to find you.
His shadows winnow him back to the River house and he doesn’t have to look for long because there you are, making your way down the last step and standing in his path. There’s not much that surprises you but that has changed since meeting Azriel and this moment is no different. Your eyes are widening, mouth parting.
“Azriel," you say. "What are you doing here? I thought you were–”
“It’s you,” Azriel interrupts breathlessly as if he was running, chest rising and falling quickly in step with the erratic beating of his heart. He’s bridging the distance between you. “All this time. It’s been you.”
You swallow thickly. “You know?”
The glimmer of hope that had ignited during Starfall returns to your eyes, revealing a world he hadn’t realized existed. How could he have been so blind?
Azriel smiles at you and it’s as if that’s the last piece to the puzzle as the bond between you both comes to life, singing loudly against your chests. He pulls you flush against him and spins you around, eliciting a delightful squeal from you. Cradling your face in his hands, he kisses your forehead, then the corners of your eyes. He saves your lips for last, lingering in the sweet taste of them for a moment longer.
“You’re my mate,” he says quietly, leaning his forehead against yours.
“Yes,” you manage to whisper back, surrendering yourself to the depths of his mesmerizing hazel eyes, just like in the vision from months ago. And it’s not you who speaks again but Azriel.
“I’ve been waiting for you.”
a/n: hope you all enjoyed this (: It took me longer to write than I thought because i'm used to writing more angst for Az than fluff but I wanted this to be different. It's canon that Elain found out that reader and Az were mates through a vision around the same time she decided to give Lucien a chance. I just want them all to be happy ♡ in terms of my ABBA x ACOTAR series, I think I'll work on another one for Cas next inspired by Honey, Honey. If you'd like to be tagged, just let me know!
tagging: @hellodarling1357
if you want to read more about Az x Seer reader, I wrote a couple of bonus scenes that didn't quite make the final cut. You can read them here.
#azriel x reader#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#acotar imagine#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel acotar#azriel fluff#azriel angst#azriel fanfic#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar x y/n#abba x acotar
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Of Oblivious Minds (3)
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: Azriel's POV (it's a warning here), angst
a/n: I am blown away by all of you and your support!! I really love writing for this fandom omg. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy ♡ Let me know what you think!! I'll get the next update up soon!
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
~~
Azriel was losing his ever-loving mind.
A few weeks ago, everything was fine. Not optimal, but fine.
He knew his mate, and that was more than could be said for most of Prythian. But even more than that, he could love her from afar. He could make small remarks and catch the smiles they would elicit. He could send his shadows after her on her walks home, protecting her even though she had the entire Inner Circle looking out for her wellbeing. He could buy the ridiculously expensive pastries she loved and stock the kitchens with them, listening for the small gasps she let out each time she found them.
He could talk to you, listen to you, love you in his small ways, even if it wasn’t the ways in which he longed for.
Because it wasn’t the right time yet. You hadn’t felt the bond for yourself.
So, yes—admittedly, Azriel had not been in the most optimal position with you. But it was leaps and bounds better than the purgatory you were subjecting him to now.
He mulled over his current reality as he sat opposite to you at the dining table. He had had to snag the seat from Mor, ripping the chair from her hand in an uncharacteristic show of aggression, and you hadn’t so much as looked up from your plate. He would’ve rather fought for the seats beside you, but Rhys and Cassian had been sitting before he even entered the room. So now he fought for your eyes and was too far away to offer any lingering, accidental touches.
Not that you would reciprocate either.
You were avoiding him, and Azriel was at his wit's end trying to decipher why.
His shadows had relayed dismal reports, only whispering the words sad and alone and contemplative into his ears each morning. He could have guessed as much, if the display of emotions he had tried to comfort you through all those days ago told him anything.
But Gods, did they really tell him nothing, because you hadn’t spoken to him since.
“—that is certainly something to consider. Y/n, would you be open to the job?”
“Hm?” you hummed, and Azriel watched as your eyes flickered over to Rhys in one abrupt movement. “Sorry, what?”
Rhys raised a brow lined with humor, and Azriel realized he hadn’t been listening to the conversation either. “Helion has extended an invitation to the Night Court—for diplomatic relations and all. It’s mostly a weekend stay for show, but he has quite an extensive library. Feyre and I went last time so it would only be fair if—”
“Yes,” you nodded, the most emotion Azriel had seen on your face in days blooming into a joyous array. “Of course, I would love to go. Are you kidding?”
Rhys chuckled. “I figured. Helion has been quite eager to get you to come as well. Seemed like the perfect time.”
Azriel didn’t miss the way the High Lord’s eyes shone with something other than mirth as he looked closer at the scholar… as he inspected your facade the same way Azriel had been for the past week.
“When can I leave?”
Something in Azriel scratched to a halt. “She’s to go alone?”
Feyre offered the spymaster a soft smile from the other side of the table. “If she wishes. Helion’s invitation was open-ended.”
“Take the vacation, I say,” Mor piped in, wine glass raised in a solitary toast.
“Or… you could take me,” Cassian grinned beside you, jostling you in a playful grip.
You sent a scoff his way. “Aren’t you banned?”
“No, actually. I’m banned from Summer Court, which is completely unrelated.”
A short laugh trickled from your lips. It wasn’t a full one, not like the ones Azriel was so used to—the ones he basked in—but it was a laugh, nonetheless.
He felt the way his eyes seemed to follow the crescendo of it, his blinks in time with the sweet sound.
He committed it to memory.
“Right, well let’s keep you away from neighboring courts as much as possible so we can avoid a repeat of that, okay?”
Something like a grin fought at the side of Azriel’s mouth at your quip.
Cassian prattled on. Something about unjust rules or ridiculous high lords—Azriel wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in you and the way you were so close to meeting his gaze.
“Perhaps she shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel spoke up, interrupting his brother’s spiel. You still didn’t look at him, instead turning to catch Rhys’s response.
“Azriel, I can assure you this is a safe visit,” Rhys offered. He knew. Everyone seemed to know but you. “It’s hardly even business. It’s more of a vacation. I’ve been shoving century-old relics in her face for the past few months. She deserves time to herself, don’t you think?”
His High Lord was speaking in code. A terrible, frustrating code that really meant, “give her some distance.”
Azriel had had enough of distance.
He nodded his head all the same.
And then, despite all odds, you looked at him.
You looked at him and it was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if he had been wrung out and stretched thin and every bone in his body forced him to sit up straighter. You were looking at him and Azriel couldn’t conceptualize the way the spectrum in his chest moved so quickly from utter relief to the brink of desolation.
Because you looked at him as if you were broken. A sad—such a sad—smile graced your face, one he had never had the displeasure of seeing before, and he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to kiss it from your face with soft touches and reassuring whispers and that was startling for Azriel because he usually kept his overwhelming urge to kiss you at bay.
“I’ll bring you back a souvenir,” is all you said. Such simple words to accompany an expression that sent him reeling.
“Thank you,” he replied, with the most sincerity he could muster.
And then he held your gaze as it became downcast. He craned his neck to catch every last second of your eyes as they turned back down to the table.
It was hours later that Azriel found himself in the townhouse, boots creating an indent in the office carpet. Rhys sat just feet away from him, leaning back against the desk, waiting for the Shadowsinger to erupt.
“I would like for you to position your spies further into Autumn. I know you have a few that have integrated into the court, but I need more intel on Eris and his plans.”
“Of course.”
“You can take out any currently residing in Day. Just for the next week or so. With y/n going, she can report any happenings.”
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped. “Would that be wise?”
Rhys stared back at his brother, expression giving nothing away. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not trust y/n’s word?”
Azriel’s wings were taut against his back. In truth, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days. With you leaving, that tension would surely pull him into thin compliance.
“Obviously I trust her word, Rhysand.”
“Rhysand? What have I done to earn your grievance?” the High Lord asked, crossing his arms over his chest, still the perfect picture of calm.
Azriel was a juxtaposition before him as he clenched his hands and replied, “You already know.”
“Do I know? I’m not sure you’ve been clear or honest with anyone. Y/n especially.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Rhys bent at the elbow and rubbed a restless hand across his jaw. Azriel ignored the movement in favor of holding eye contact with the High Lord. Azriel was being stubborn, he knew that, but there was no other way to be.
He needed to be consistent and reliable. He needed to be a pillar for his family to lean on, and you were part of that. He wasn’t going to take that away from you—to be selfish and call upon a mating bond you hadn't even been made aware of yet.
He wasn’t going to squander your friendship in the hopes of something more.
There was a chance, no matter how much the prospect pained him to consider, that you wouldn’t want the bond. You had never hinted at wanting more with the spymaster, so there was no telling how you might react to the cauldron blessing you with a union. You could reject it, and with it would go your friendship.
Just the thought sent ice through Azriel’s veins.
Truth be told, he had never shown you many signs either. When the bond snapped months ago, it had taken time for Azriel to come to terms with the truth. He had ruminated on it amidst many sleepless nights, watched you from a new perspective over many dinners, and contemplated the path that had led him to you.
And then he had regretted. Cauldron had he regretted.
The feeling still lingered, a reminder of each woman he had taken to his bed before you. All of the fae that had meant nothing, and even the ones that had boarded on something, he wished he could do away with.
Because you had been privy to them all. He knew you had witnessed a few late-night trysts, and even worse, that you had watched him pine after Mor for a century. It all seemed so frivolous now; it all paled in comparison to you.
And the absolute worst part of it all is that he knew.
He knew how easy it would be to fall in love with you from the start, so he pretended not to notice.
He threw himself into impractical longing and meaningless lovers and he pretended that it didn’t hurt to look at you.
The bond had only cemented his foolishness.
He hardly had a chance with you by the time it snapped.
“Late night then, Az?”
You had teased him over breakfast just days before the bond had snapped for him, a small smile on your face as you lounged at the table early in the morning. At the time, Azriel had bit the inside of his cheek and reeled in his snarkiness. He had avoided your gaze, avoided the robe that barely covered your nightgown, and made himself toast in silence. He had already coaxed the blonde fae out of his bed, and he hadn’t needed a reminder of the woman he had been imagining all throughout the night.
Because that had been something else he opted to ignore—that he pictured you, imagined you, at all times.
It snapped three days later. He had been accompanying you through Velaris. “Shopping for fun,” you had said, “and I hate to go alone.”
The only thing Azriel had taken home that day was a gaping hole in his chest and the knowledge that lying to himself had brought him nothing but pain.
The months following were different.
Everything was different.
But for you, he had come to the grim realization, nothing was different at all. He was still Azriel, your friend Azriel, who was secretive and private and cared from afar. You still pictured him as a man who chose his lovers based on convenience and quick practicality even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since your emotions began flowing through his chest.
Gods, your emotions. They were so positive, so addicting, he could sit back and live his days through you until the end of time. You had so much unrestricted joy coursing through you—so much curiosity and delight. Part of Azriel dreaded the day you did recognize the bond; it would dim the connection to you.
That day in the library had been the first time the bond had chafed against his lungs. He had felt the earthquake beneath his feet and thought nothing of it, but then your fear punctured his being and he had run so fast his wings ached.
And then you started having nightmares, ones he couldn’t fix, and Azriel began to feel like he was losing you. Like the bond was withering and eroding within him and you along with it.
“How long, Azriel?” Rhys’s voice cut through the air with a harshness.
The shadowsinger breathed through his nose, jaw tight.
“Tell me. Tell me how long you’re going to keep this up for.”
“You don’t understand, Rhys,” came Azriel’s low reply. “None of you do.”
The High Lord scoffed. “Right, because I had it so easy with Feyre. Az, mates are complicated—”
“Don’t,” Azriel breathed. A dangerous shakiness accompanied the word.
“Explain it to me. Help me to understand how—”
“There was nothing for you to lose!” The rise of the shadowsinger’s voice sent Rhys into silence. “There was nothing! You hadn’t known Feyre for three centuries—hadn’t known what it was like to see her cry over worthless males or laugh until she was doubled over. You didn’t have time to memorize the sound of her voice or understand how it felt to lose that small piece of her. Because she won’t even talk to me anymore and—”
Azriel cut himself off, moving for the first time since he entered office. He paced, the motion of his feet doing little to dispel the tension from the air or from his body. Azriel tugged a hand through his hair, his shadows following the aggressive pull and weaving through the strands.
“How long?” Rhys asked again, but this time, Azriel knew that he was asking a different question. One that even he himself had avoided answering.
The shadowsinger paused. His next words were tainted and his voice cracked.
“I think forever.”
Part 4
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fanfic#acotar fanfiction#azriel#azriel angst
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An Education in Malice
Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel
Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.
Warnings: 18+ SMUT, rough, angry, hate sex basically. sexual degradation (name calling), p in v penetration, sex in da woods, bickering and insults, inner circle slander
Word Count: 6.6k
a/n: i know technically we wouldnt be a princess... but we r a high lord family so were running with it for the sexual tension. also dedicated to my soulmate and the brilliant babe, @itsswritten who told me to write sumthin smutty like this. thank her 🫡
Part Two
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
“Hello, Shadowsinger.”
Azriel’s jaw clenched at the sound.
He’d almost forgotten how grating your voice was to his ears, how it made his body tense with an emotion he could never quite describe. He turned around slowly, taking you in where you stood leaning casually against a tree.
The dress you wore was reminiscent of autumn court elegance, fabric cascading around you in rich hues of crimson, gold, and amber, like the vibrant foliage of the season brought to life, sleeves like flickering flames. There was a sense of wrongness in seeing such an elegant form amidst the wild, your commanding presence even more striking than that of your other family members. If he didn't know who you were, he would have been tempted to describe you as something of unparalleled beauty, a vision amidst a forest of wilderness.
But Azriel knew who you were. He knew what you were.
He had noticed the similarities between you and your brothers quickly, from your mannerisms down to the curve of your lips. You and Eris shared the same snarky smirk– a smirk Az wanted to wipe clean off your faces. You were using it now, holding his gaze with the corners of your lips upturned and amused eyes.
“You look thrilled to see me,” you said.
Az did nothing to hide his disdain as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Where is your brother?”
“Busy,” you responded, absentmindedly running the tips of your fingers along the tree you leaned on. You took a moment to observe the bark before you turned to face Azriel again, a small taunting smile on your lips once more. “I’ll let him know you missed him.”
Azriel held your gaze for a moment, a tick in his jaw as he let out a short exhale. Then, he was turning around to leave, a clear dismissal. A small flicker of anger rose in your body. Quickly, you winnowed in front of him, your sudden appearance setting his shadows into a frenzied dance around him, coalescing into a swirling mass around his neck like a collar of live snakes ready to strike.
“Don’t be rude,” you said, “I’m here on Eris’ behalf. Give me information to report back to him.”
“Nothing to report,” Azriel said, voice flat. He stared at you for a moment, eyes scanning you. And then he was making another notion to leave, brushing past you with a small shove to your shoulder. You nearly laughed at the action, at how easy he was becoming to rile up— at how much your presence bothered him.
“You don’t want to stay and chat?” You said over your shoulder. A flutter of triumph spread in your chest when you heard his footsteps come to a halt. You turned to face him, his back still to you, shadows swirling around his body like black flames. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”
Azriel turned to face you, a small scowl on his beautiful features. “Not long enough.”
You laughed, the sound stroking his body in a way that sent shivers down his spine. You let out a sigh.
“I get bored in Autumn sometimes, you know?”
Briefly, something flickered in Azriel’s hazel eyes, but it faded faster than you could decipher what it meant or where it came from. He titled his head slightly, eyes taking you in fully.
“Not enough cruelty for you?”
“Something like that.”
You both held each other's stares, his icy gaze against your fiery one. He lifted his chin slightly, rolling his shoulders as if to straighten his already stiff posture. You didn’t miss the way his wings extended slightly from their tucked in position, just enough to stand as a warning, as a reminder of who he was— what he was.
“This is a waste of my time.”
Yet, Azriel made no move to leave— not this time.
“Because you have such important matters to return to?” You asked with a raised brow, “You said it yourself, nothing to report. So, are there some damsels in distress to be saved? Something to make you feel important?”
You made sure to pay extra attention to when you mocked his previous words, tone dropping slightly deeper to imitate his. Azriel’s eyes narrowed even more, a dark wave of evident anger washing through his face, nostrils flared, jaw clenched. You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your grin.
You were playing with something dangerous, this you knew. But Azriel was so fun to rile up, so easy to. You understood, now, why your brother seemed to enjoy these meetings so much. You’d assumed Eris was some sort of masochist, somehow finding pleasure in the necessity of being allies with the Night Court, the same people who so commonly disregarded you and your family as evil and cruel— although, they were right to a certain extent. But perhaps Eris had found some sort of entertainment with this affair.
“Stop talking,” was Azriel’s only reply.
“Why?”
He took a step forward. You made sure to stay still, to hold his gaze as he peered down at you.
“Because you’re trying to get a rise out of me,” Azriel responded, his voice cool, “and it will not work.”
“Oh please,” you scoffed. “Play the unphased act all you’d like, we both know its bullshit.”
He said nothing in response, his eyes remaining locked on yours. Azriel’s stare was harder now, colder. A clear warning was written in his features, carved out between his clenched jaw and narrowed eyes: do not fuck with me.
But you welcomed the challenge. If he wasn’t going to admit it, you were more than willing to prove your point.
“You put my brother in a chokehold in a public meeting. You have no self-control. You’re just constantly one spark away from igniting.”
Azriel growled. “Your brother deserved it.”
You raised your brow in a small taunt.
“Because he called your precious Morrigan a slut?”
Whether Azriel wanted to admit it or not, you were very easily tearing at his resolve. He moved quickly, his hand naturally falling to the dagger at his hip. Shadows moved closer to you, but with a swift movement of your fingers, they were met with the spark of a small flame, quickly retracting back into their mass form near Azriel’s shoulders. You winnowed back to your original place, back against the rough tree bark.
“Careful, Shadowsinger,” you sneered, “You’re forgetting your manners.You didn’t even let me finish.”
Azriel wore a clear scowl now, brows furrowed as he held your gaze from afar, hand still on his weapon. There was something deadly about the way you made him feel, the intensity of those feelings far surpassing any hatred he held for your brothers– Eris, specifically. In truth, the more time Az spent near Lucien, the more he saw him as someone good– and the less similarities he seemed to bear with you, his conniving snake of a sister. You opened your mouth to taunt him once more.
“I don’t agree with my brother,” you said, “Hell, I admire Morrigan for her freedom. I do love a pretty dress. So, I would have called her something else… a liar, perhaps?”
Those words were all it took to light Azriel’s fuse.
Within a blink, he was in front of you, the cold steel of a dagger, Truth-Teller you presumed, pressed against your neck. His wings flared out angrily behind him. Shadows surged around you, a suffocating darkness descending like a shroud, swallowing the sunlight and leaving only a void of darkness. You stared into Azriel's eyes— cold, and angry.
"Shut up," he snarled.
For a moment, a sense of fear flickered deep in your stomach, but you swallowed it down, the flame diminishing before it could properly ignite. Even as his shadows threatened to consume you both whole, you refused to back down, meeting Azriel's gaze with a defiant stare of your own. And then, you grinned. A cruel, wicked gesture that made his blood boil.
“Nice to see you perform without an audience, too.”
Azriel's voice was laden with disdain as he responded, words dripping with venom. "You and your brother are exactly the same."
But instead of flinching at the accusation, you maintained your smirk, unfazed by the blade pressed against your neck. "Which brother? I have quite a few," you countered, your tone teasing, almost playful.
Azriel's grip tightened, images of your family conjuring in his mind. Az could barely remember the names of your other brothers, their features blurring into a blurry mess of fiery auburn and copper. Instead, his mind focused on you– the female before him, under his grip and his dagger, standing next to the two males he despised for different reasons.
“You can decide,” Azriel finally said, “they’re all equally terrible.”
“I’d say Lucien is a good male,” you laughed bitterly, “I’m willing to bet your sweet Elain would agree.”
A surge of fury rose within him, a deep primal instinct to lash out and silence your taunts once and for all. But even as he bristled with anger, he realized you were right.
He was constantly teetering on the edge, one step away from losing control. It had gotten worse recently, watching everyone around him find their place, their people; Elain growing closer to Lucien, his brothers spending time with their mates. Azriel was frustrated. He was angry. You’d done exactly what he told you wouldn’t happen– gotten a rise out of him. He hated it, hated you, hated himself even more.
Azriel took a deep breath, your heated gaze still on him, eyes narrowed, a small smirk on your lips that he filled him with a burning anger. It wasn’t as if he could kill you, no, he couldn’t even really hurt you. One mark on the Vanserra’s youngest and only daughter would be a mark for war. This was a battle Az couldn't win, indulging your provocations for the mere sake of your entertainment. He needed to calm down. Regain control.
The shadows around you began to recede and sunlight filtered back into the clearing as Azriel pushed you away with a snarl. You leaned your head back against the tree as you took a deep breath.
He studied you for a moment before saying, "You'd think someone as pretentious as you wouldn't need to rely on irritating someone for an ounce of attention."
There was a subtle shift in your demeanor—a swallowed response, a flicker of vulnerability. His gaze followed the movement down to the column of your throat.
“Pretentious?”
You gave a bitter laugh.
"Yes, pretentious. All of you Vanserras," Azriel retorted with a bitter edge, “Every single one.”
"That's ironic coming from you. You think we're pretentious?"
Azriel's gaze hardened. "Yes. Cruel, evil, and vile. You think you're better than all of us."
Your mouth widened as you scoffed. And then you let out a laugh of disbelief.
"Oh my Gods, does it ever get tiring?" you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wallowing in your own self-pity and then using it as a means to hate everyone outside of your incestuous little circle?"
"Do not speak of my family," Azriel snapped.
You smirked. “So you admit your family is incestuous?”
Azriel said nothing, a sudden realization that his anger, once again, had beat him to his rationality, somehow giving you another weapon to use against him. He clenched his jaw, feeling a simmering heat building in his stomach.
"You stand in front of me and pretend to be shocked when I call you for what you are?" he countered with a sneer, “Your family isn't quiet about their disdain for my family, for my kind, or for me."
You lifted your chin. “You don’t even like your own kind, Shadowsinger.”
There was another flare of his nostrils and you knew that you’d gotten him once again. Azriel’s fists clenched at his sides, a sight lost to you as his shadows covered them. You continued as he stayed silent.
“I will admit, my family can be a bit narrow minded. Why would I hate you for the things you can’t control? Where's the fun in that?”
Again, Azriel remained silent. He knew if he made a move, if he said a word, it would likely be something he regretted, something that would come back to bite him in the ass.
"I don’t hate you because you’re from the Night Court, or an Illyrian, or a bastard, or whatever it is you tell yourself at night," you continued, your words like a dagger aimed at his pride. "I hate you because you are hot-headed and arrogant. You’ve held a grudge against Eris for something that wasn’t his fault and have utterly screwed Lucien to no end. Your little family is a disease.”
Azriel’s resolve was cracking. He didn’t have enough self-control for this, for you. He’d barely mustered up the diplomacy needed to meet with Eris.
“Stop talking,” he said through gritted teeth. He felt it again, the flicker of frustration that threatened to engulf him like an unattended flame.
You gave him a withering glare. “Or what, you’ll make me?”
Azriel blinked, his eyes scanning your body instinctively. There was something about the words you spoke, the way you had spoken them, that made his body shiver. A small jolt of electricity passed through his muscles. Unfortunately for him, you caught it as quick as it manifested. Your eyes widened as you let out a dry laugh, forming a small smirk on your lips.
“Oh my gods,” you said, taking a step closer, “I bet you’d like that, wouldn't you? Is that why you’re such an ass today?
Azriel’s wings twitched behind him. You gave him a mocking pout as you stared up at him.
“No one to torture, no sweet female to make love to? Poor, powerful, Spymaster.”
Azriel thought for a moment. He thought about the anger boiling in his body, how on edge he’d been, how every little thing had been setting him off. He thought about you, in front of him, a female he despised from previous meetings– loud-mouthed, vicious, and selfish. A female from a family he hated, a family that took things from his family, from him.
And then he began thinking of how great it would feel to show them how wrong they were about him. To prove to them that they weren’t better than him, that he was just as, if not more, powerful than their damned bloodline.
You had been right again. He was pent up. He hadn’t taken a lover recently, hadn’t fucked anyone since that one almost-night with Elain– where she’d been sweet, sensitive, and gentle. But even before, with the females who’d asked for it rough, told him they could handle it, he hadn’t indulged himself too far. He still respected them. They were still wide-eyed and kind, sweet to a certain extent. He didn’t want to hurt them. They were ladies. Azriel respected ladies.
“I said stop talking,” Azriel growled.
There was a tick in his jaw.
“And I said, make me.”
But you, you weren’t a lady. You weren’t sensitive, sweet, or kind. You were a viper. A snake with beautiful lips and a body he found incredibly inviting— not that he’d ever admit it to anyone. But standing in front of him, that defiant look in your eyes, the pride seeping off you, the smirk on your lips… Azriel felt hungry. He felt ravenous.
So, he thought for one more moment. And then he was taking a step forward, one that you matched with an equal stepback.
“Y/n,” Azriel drawled as he continued to take another step. You matched him again, moving back while you glared at him. “Are you not getting enough attention? Is that it?”
Your back hit the tree and you let out a small exhale as Azriel took a final step forward, inches away from you as he stared down with a dark gaze.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You bit out.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
You attempted to regulate your breathing as his eyes drank you in, a clear and unashamed desire painted over his face.
“Do I look like a fucking mind-reader?”
Azriel gave a dry chuckle. You were unraveling before him, scrambling for control. “Such a vile mouth for a princess.”
“Fuck you.”
“Is that why you came?” He brought a hand to your chin, roughly tilting your face up to look directly at him. “Do you want to be fucked, Y/n?”
The answer was yes, you did. There was a sickening sense of excitement that ran through your blood, a heat pooling between your thighs. But you wouldn’t admit it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction, weren’t about to prove him right. So instead you stayed quiet, pulling your face out of his hands and turning your cheek.
“I came for intel,” you said through gritted teeth, “in Eris’ place.”
Azriel gave another chuckle, something dark and humorous. His hand trailed to the side of your neck, pushing the hair off your shoulders to expose the line of your collarbone. You swallowed.
“Interesting,” he said. He leaned in, lips against your ear. “Then what is that desire I smell?”
You let out a sharp exhale as he leaned away. Taking a deep breath, you looked at him, biting the inside of your cheek at your body's betrayal. You needed to balance this.
“Maybe its you that needs a good fuck, Shadowsinger. Like I said, you seem real pent up. Noone quite scratching that itch?”
But Azriel no longer seemed angry at your words, instead, he seemed amused– hungry. He was quiet for a second too long, simply staring at you. A sense of irritation prickled at your skin.
“What?” You snapped.
“I can admit that,” Azriel said coolly, “if you can admit something to me.”
“What, are we trading secrets now? I wasn’t aware this was a children's sleepover.”
Azriel didn’t respond. You registered the movement of a dark shadow as it fled from his body, slowly sneaking around your collarbone. You attempted to hit it away, but it quickly slithered back to Azriel, running up his chest to curl around his ear. He smirked.
“When was the last time someone fucked you, Y/n?”
The air left your lungs as you let out a small gasp. You blinked. Quickly, you regained your composure.
“Excuse me?”
Azriel kept his smirk. “It must be hard getting anyone to touch you when you’re so sheltered by those males you call brothers.”
He reached out a hand to your bare collarbone, but you caught his wrist in your hand, allowing it to hover in your grip. His eyes slowly trailed up to your face, heavy-lidded and darkened with a sense of attention that made your stomach clench.
“What the hell are you getting at?” You sneered.
Azriel simply stared at you, the ghost of a smirk still plastered on his lips. His reactions had you gritting your teeth in anger and rubbing your thighs in anticipation at the same time— you hated it.
“Don’t ask questions you know the answers to.”
“You're pathetic,” you spat, “Save your games for a bitch who cares.”
But you still gripped his hand in yours, still felt the heat radiating off his skin. And you made no motion to move. No motion to let him pull back. Azriel didn’t fail to notice this, either.
“That snarky mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. But I bet that's why you use it, right?”
Your breathing was heavier now. Azriel’s gaze flickered to where you still gripped his wrist.
“You can fool everyone, Y/n,” he said, “But not me.”
You shouldn’t have enjoyed the way his voice sounded on your skin, shouldn’t have felt a breathlessness filling your body as he spoke to you. But you felt it. And it was a burning, hungry desire that made your chest tighten. This was what you wanted, it was what you needed.
Azriel was right. The bastard had read you like a book. Your family, your brothers, never let anyone near you for fear of embarrassment– fear of you bringing some sense of shame. But Azriel was right. You wanted it. You craved it. You wanted to forget who you were, to give up the control you always had to wield.
Before you could overthink it, you loosened your grip on Azriel’s hand and pulled it towards you, situating it on the side of your throat. You let out a small gasp when he quickly wrapped his fingers around the base of your neck.
And then he was pulling you into him with a deep and angry kiss. All teeth, tongue, and fire, mouths crashing together almost painfully, but neither of you stopped. With every movement of his mouth, of his tongue on yours, a dormant flame deep within you awoke.
A primal desire surged through Azriel’s veins like wildfire, the scent of you– of your want, of your desire– filling his senses in a way that had his cock throbbing. There was no room for rational thought, only the raw, unbridled passion that engulfed him in a fiery embrace. His hand found its way into your hair, fingers brushing along your scalp as he yanked your hair to expose your neck to him. His lips wandered to your exposed collarbone, giving a harsh suck to the skin near the column of your throat.
“Is this what you wanted?”
“Shut up,” you responded, reaching your hands out to fumble with his leather clothes. Azriel pulled back slightly, grabbing your wandering hands in his. You let out a sound of protest as he ran sloppy kissing along your neck.
“Oh how i’d love to fuck that foul mouth of yours,” Azriel murmured against your skin, his mouth reaching your ear. “But we’re short on time.” He took your lobe in between his teeth and you let out a small groan.
“I bet all you’ll need is a few minutes– and that's being generous.”
Azriel’s hand gripped at your waist, traveling up your chest to roughly grab your breast through your dress.
“No wonder you’re so insufferable.” he said, his voice amused as he pulled back, his other hand tugged at your hair once more. “You haven’t been fucked properly.”
You snarled. "Fuck you."
Azriel grinned.
"Oh, princess, I will.”
And then he was pulling the front of your dress down, exposing your bare breasts before him, nipples peaked in the fresh air. You let out a gasp as a small faint ripping sound traveled to your ears. Before you had a chance to react, Azriel was spinning you around, pulling your back against his chest, one hand bracketing your throat as the other traveled down your stomach, grabbing at the fabric at your dress.
"But first, you're going to beg me for it,” he breathed into your ear, his voice so low you felt it more than you heard it. His words traveled straight to your core, leaving you dripping with want. Yet, you refused to let the words leave your lips. You gritted your teeth, bristled at the suggestion— pride and defiance warring within you.
“Like hell I will.”
Azriel made a sound of disapproval, his mouth still running along your ear, “No?” he asked, hand slowly trailing from your throat to your chest, his fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake. “So you don’t want me to touch you?”
His hand fell over your breast, cupping it in his palm as his thumb brushed over your nipple. You watched as black tendrils of shadow danced around his forearm, meeting where his fingers tweaked your nipple. Their cool gentle touch sent a ripple of sensation through you and your head fell back against him as you let out a small whimper.
“Stop being a fucking tease.”
Azriel found that he loved the way you whimpered, loved the tinge of frustration in your voice as he touched you. Here you were, melting into his touch, attempting to avoid admitting in words what your body was showing in actions.
“I asked you to do something.”
He rolled your nipple between his fingers. You let out a deep exhale, pushing yourself back onto him, grinding into the evident bulge that pressed against you, the thin material of your dress doing nothing to disguise his hardened length.
“Just fuck me already,” you turned your head to catch his gaze, darkened and pupils blown with lust. “I know you want to.”
You covered his hand in yours, molding his hand into your touch, urging him to grab your breast again– harder, firmer.
The corners of his lips quirked up. “That doesn’t matter. Beg for it.”
Agonizingly slow, his hands roamed your trembling form, lighting flames of desire that you almost feared would consume you whole. Second by second, you felt yourself losing control. The heat of his touch seared through you, eroding the last crumbs of your resistance until all that remained was a burning need to be filled by him, to succumb to the primal urges coursing through your veins. You wanted him. You needed him.
“Please,” you whispered, the truth spilling from your lips in a voice so meek you barely recognized it as your own.
"Please what?"
With a trembling breath, you finally let go of the last shreds of your resistance, your voice coming out in a deep, frustrated plea. “Please fuck me.”
Azriel's lips curved into a predatory smirk.
“Good girl,” he said, his voice low and sultry as he pulled away from you. In one movement he was pulling your ass closer to him, forcing your body forward to brace yourself on the tree. In seconds you felt the cool air on your body as Azriel pushed your dress above your hips. Naturally, you felt your body bowing at the sensation. He let out a groan at the sight.
Then he was spreading your legs, baring you before him, glistening cunt on full display. His rough hands gripped your bare ass. He massaged it for a moment, but the motion was brief, and soon you felt a hard hand land on the fat of your cheek. You let out a small shriek, but it was followed by a low moan as he delivered another smack. Azriel smirked at the sound of it, at the sight of your ass reddening with his handprint.
“Are you going to fuck me or not?” You managed to grit out as you pushed your ass out further, “I’m growing bored.”
“Bored?” He ran finger through the wetness that pooled at your core. “Your cunt doesn’t seem to think so.”
You moaned at the feeling, pushing yourself back against his hand.
“Too stubborn to admit anything,” Azriel murmured, “But your body gives you away.”
Azriel took a step back, your body cold at the loss of contact as he freed himself from the confine of his leather pants, each movement filled with a primal urgency that would’ve made him unsettled— embarrassed even— if he had been in a more rational state of mind. But Azriel wasn’t being rational. All he could think about was you, and staring at your beautiful glistening cunt, all he wanted was to fuck you into oblivion, to let his frustrations out. To tame you like a wild animal— his most tantalizing challenge yet.
He settled himself behind you and stroked his cock along your folds, allowing it to glide against your core until both of you were slick with your desire. He teased you slowly as he moved up and down your entrance. You pushed against him, urging him inside, inviting him to take you.
Azriel only laughed darkly at the movements, and you whined in response, frustrated and irritated.
“Remember this the next time you insult me,” he said, “Remember how you were begging for me to fuck you.”
Half a breath later, he pushed himself inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt. You exhaled in tandem, your cunt clenching him, pulsing around the stretch of him. He adjusted his angle and picked up the pace, sending pleasure rising in a wave that you couldn’t hold back, your mouth falling open as he began to take you harder.
You let your forehead fall against your hands, braced against the rough texture of the tree. You faintly felt the ridges under your palm, but there was no pain, no irritation that you knew you were bound to experience later. All you could truly feel was Azriel deep inside you, stretching you out and using you in a way you hadn’t experienced for a very long time. The lust Azriel felt, the experience of being with you, of claiming you as his, was no longer a desire, no longer a want. It was a need. An animalistic and primal need that he felt deep in his chest.
Azriel's movements were relentless, each thrust sending ripples of pleasure rippling through your body, clouding your mind in a haze of ecstasy and melting away all coherent thought. There were sounds emitted from your lips, this you knew, but they were incoherent whimpers, quiet murmurs whispered towards the ground as your forehead dug into your hands with every buck of Azriel’s hips.
“You had so much to say earlier, Y/n,” Azriel said, pulling out until he was barely inside you. He thrusted back in, resuming a hard and brutal pace.
“Why so quiet now?”
Thrust.
“Did you just need the attitude fucked out of you?”
Thrust.
"What will your brothers think?” he taunted, his grip on your hips bruising in its intensity, “Your father?”
Thrust.
“If only your family only knew what their precious princess was up to. Taking it from the likes of me, like some common pleasure hall whore."
The mention of your family sent a surge of burning shame coursing through your veins, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks, flushing against your exposed skin. But amidst the suffocating shame, there was something else, something primal and insatiable that stirred within you—a hunger born of defiance, of indulging in a forbidden ecstasy. It filled you with a sense of exhilaration that bordered on madness.
Quickly, that spark of defiance ignited within you, mingling with the fiery hunger coursing through your veins, an urge to bite back at him. You craned your head to look over your shoulder, catching his eyes as you let out a moan, taking your lips in between your teeth.
"Do common whores get you this riled up?" you purred. There was a feigned innocence in your tone that made Azriel twitch inside you. His gaze burned into yours. "Do they make you this hungry?”
A part of you wanted the confirmation, wanted the triumphant feeling of knowing you could ruin him for everyone else— that you felt better than the females he had bedded, that you, the one he loathed so openly, were the only one to truly quench his thirst.
“Do they feel as good as me, Azriel?”
He let out a deep, guttural moan. The sound traveled through your body, lighting your skin on fire as you bucked back into his movements, meeting every roll of his hips.
“Say that again,” Azriel groaned.
When you gave no reply, he twisted your hair around one fist and gave it a tug, pulling your body up to him as before. His thrusts never staggered, not even as his hand traveled to wrap around your throat, matching the reddening print from his earlier grip. The other hand remained steady at your hip, gripping into the fabric of your dress and the exposed skin of your body.
“Say my name,” he growled and your cunt tightened at the sound, at the way he gripped your throat harder. You grasped at his arm with your hands, holding on to his skin as he bucked into you.
“No.”
Azriel growled, pulling out of you almost completely before he pushed back in a heavy, angry stroke. Your body arched in pleasure, a small whimper leaving your mouth instinctively.
“Don’t be a brat.”
“Fuck you.”
“I am,” Azriel said, “And your cunt is swallowing me whole, princess. Like it's made for me, like its been begging to be fucked.”
He released his grip from your throat, letting you fall forward as he placed his hand on the small of your back, arching your body for him as he pounded into you from behind. You fell forward, hands planted on the tree before you, fingers clawing at the bark like an animal in heat. Azriel watched as his cock disappeared into your cunt with every thrust, watched how your ass bounced back on him with every movement, how your tits moved with every roll of his hips. He fought not to finish from the sight alone.
You struggled to find your voice through the haze of pleasure that clouded your mind, that seemed to twist and tie your tongue to where you could only gasp incoherent words of ecstasy
“Oh, fuck. Azriel.”
Azriel drank in your sounds of pleasure like a male thirsted for centuries, the sound of his name on your tongue sending a wave of pleasure through his body.
“Are you going to cum, Y/n?”
You let yourself surrender to his touch as he continued to ravage you with ruthless abandon, his voice caressing you in ways you never knew a sound could do. You wanted him to go faster, harder, rougher; wanted him to fuck you with all his might, with all that anger you saw. As if he could read your mind, Azriel’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you.
“Fuuck, yeah, you are. I can feel this pretty little cunt clenching me.”
He continued his pace, fucking you with long thorough strokes that left you completely pinned between him and the rough bark of the tree. You felt him heavy against your back, breasts pressed against his hand as he moved between gripping them both roughly, holding onto them for leverage as he fucked you from behind.
"Look at you," he taunted, his grip tightening around you possessively. "So desperate, so needy. You're nothing but a pretty little slut, begging for release, aren’t you?"
Azriel continued, moving deeper and faster, pumping into you with snaps of his hips that had you writhing underneath him.
"And yet," you managed between breaths, gasps leaving your lips as he drove into you. "You’re the one pounding into me like a brute who can't get enough.”
With a low groan, Azriel's hand tightened around your breast, his grip possessive as he leaned in to bite at your shoulder with a hungry intensity. He was beginning to think that you’d surely be the death of him, that he had created something, some beast inside him, that refused to be satiated by anything other than you— and that was dangerous. But he didn’t think too much about it, not now, not as he felt your cunt massaging him from the inside, felt your walls clamping onto him in a way that set his body on fire, his cock throbbing.
Azriel railed you over and over, nothing slow or gentle about his movements. And with every thrust, you whined in ecstasy. His grip on your hips tightened, holding you in place as he kept pounding into you. He fell forward, grinding against you, pushing you further into the rough bark of the tree.
You could feel it, a deep pressure building in your stomach as his cock stretched you in the most delicious way. And you could feel him too, hot against your back, his deep breaths and the groans that reverberated through his body. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your ears, muffling out the sound of your moans as your whole body tensed.
Then you felt it, a cool trail snaking up your legs. Dark tendrils of Azriel's shadows slithered through your thighs, caressing your skin with a tantalizing touch that made you clench at the sensation. You gasped as they coiled around your clit, winding you up with a feeling you’d never experienced before. With a loud moan, your orgasm rolled through you in a violent convulsion, white spots dancing at the edges of your vision.
Azriel hated to think it, hated to admit that the sound of you coming undone on his cock was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever heard, that feeling your cunt clench around him as the sound filled his ear was enough for him to unravel. With a choked moan, Azriel spilled into you, spurts of his seed coating your walls. You let out a final, breathy whine at the sensation of him spilling into you, feeling as it began to drip as Azriel slowly pulled out.
With a heavy breath, his gaze lingered on the glistening trail connecting the tip of cock to your cunt. The lust in his eyes faintly faded, and a moment of clarity washed over him as the reality of what he’d just done hit like a sudden, cold wave. He didn’t regret it, no, not at all. This was exactly the release Azriel had needed. In fact, a part of him nearly grinned at the realization, at the relief he now felt in his body. But the other part of him, the rational side afraid of disappointing his family, of fucking something up, awoke in a panic. What the fuck had he just done? And why was he so proud of it?
You slowly stood up, straightening yourself out as you turned to face him, face flushed and hair a tangled mess. There was a ghost of a smirk playing on your lips as you took them between your teeth and bit down. Your breasts were still exposed, nipples peaked and reddened marks from his rough grip. Azriel's eyes traveled down your form, swallowing hard as he took in the sight before him. He could smell the desire that filled the air around you both, could smell himself on you— the image of him plunging in and out of you still fresh in his mind.
The idea of it alone made his cock stir again. There was something intoxicating about this situation to him. The image of you returning home, covered in his marks, in his scent, in his seed. Eris smelling him on you, realizing that you’d not only fucked someone he despised, but sullied yourself with an illyrian– just as he’d told Mor. And you, you’d remember this. You’d remember him inside you, remember how you let him use you, fuck you like a common-court whore. And you’d have to live with that. Every insult you’d give him, everytime you sneered at him in the future, there would be a part of you that remembered falling apart on his cock as you begged him for more, for him to fuck you harder.
With a gentle flick of your fingers, your dress was perfectly restored, the fabric falling gracefully around your figure as your hair cascaded down your shoulders in silky, untouched, waves. You smoothed out the sleeves of your dress with a practiced gesture before turning your gaze back to Azriel, scanning him from head to toe. Your eyes lingered on his still-exposed cock, covered in the mixed fluids of your cunt and his seed. A smirk played at the corner of your lips as Azriel looked down, realization flickering in his eyes as he hastily pulled up his pants, stuffing himself back into them.
"Well, this was fun," you remarked casually– almost bored. Azriel resisted the urge to frown at the words, at the tone you used. "Catch you later, Shadowsinger."
Before he could respond, you were gone, leaving him standing alone in the forest, staring at the empty space before a tree.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
Part Two
permanent tag list 🫶🏻: @rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria
#azriel x reader#azriel x reader smut#azriel smut#azriel#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader angst#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel acotar#acotar fanfic#azriel angst#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fanfiction#acotar#acotar x reader#acotar x reader smut#acotar smut
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You’re losing me
Summary: Azriel has always put his duties as spymaster above his own needs and wants. How long can you let him keep putting work over you before boiling over?
Author’s note: I am so sorry about this babes, this is pure heartbreak. Anyway angst is a new genre for me so please lmk how this goes for you (good, bad, awful - lmk)
(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)
You sit in the library of your shared home, the soft cushion of your favorite armchair not providing the comfort it used to. The library was your favorite room in the house - you and Azriel spent thousands of hours in here reading independently, reading to each other, or just enjoying the silence with each other for company.
The room was beautiful- you both adored the entirety of the house, but this room drew both of you in immediately. It’s beautiful stain-glass windows creating brilliant hues of color to move about the room during the day, bringing life to the dark wood that adorns the walls of the room.
Vivid colors from the scenes in the stain glass window would dance across the floor, as if reenacting the depictions just for you two.
It’s dark now, the sun having set hours ago, and you can’t remember the last time you enjoyed the light of the room. The last time you and Azriel had enjoyed the light of the room.
The last time you and Azriel just enjoyed each other’s company without knowing he was going to leave in a matter of hours.
It was a song and dance you were familiar with by now - he’d return home from doing some work requested by Rhys, you’d make him some food, you two would snuggle or have sex, and he’d be gone by the time you woke up.
It wasn’t always like this, but the two years since the war have caused Azriel to dive headfirst into his work, accepting every scrap of work Rhysand would push his way, darting out the door like it was calling to him.
You hear the front door open, knowing who it is despite their silent entrance. Sighing, you stand up and walk out of the library, closing the door behind you.
You walked through the halls of your home, feet softly padding on the hardwood floor until you see him across the living room, still in his leathers.
It used to amuse you, when he’d return in his leathers, compared to you in your frilly nightgowns. It was quite a sight, the dark leather surrounded by the satins and cottons of your nightgowns.
Now it just furthered to prove the divide between you.
“Az, we were supposed to go to the bakery today to taste cakes.”
You hardly let him walk through the door before picking a fight, but his absence at the bakery hours ago left you ample time to stew in your negative emotions.
He runs his hand down his face, the purple and blue bruising under his eyes having grown more and more prominent over the weeks. Truthfully, you don’t want to start a fight, but you’ve let too many of these things slide in the past two years and you’re at your tipping point.
Missed dates, rescheduled dinners, missed anniversaries, cancelled trips. You had tried talking several times about it, but you need your fiancé around more than he has been. No amount of begging can make him do anything about it, though.
The most egregious of all was the continually delayed status of your wedding ceremony. You’ve had to rescind the invitations two times now, and you’re have tempted to send out fresh ones that just say “date: TBD”.
He just sighs in response, telling you, “I had to work, I had a mission.”
You sigh, knowing it was the truth. Your fiancé would never cheat on you, but he would put everyone else’s needs above his.
And above your own.
“Azriel, I really needed you today. It was important to me for you to be there.”
“It’s just a cake - pick any flavor you want. You know what I like,” he says, sitting onto the couch and taking off his boots.
“It’s not just a cake! This is your wedding too - I cannot make every decision for this. It’s supposed to be about us, not about me.”
You shake your head, exasperation bubbling to the surface, “I feel insane going to these appointments because I have a fiancé who never shows up! I swear I heard the florist say she pitied me because I pretended to be engaged!”
Azriel drags a hand down his face, “can we not do this now? I’m exhausted and want to bathe before bed.”
You huff out a laugh, as Azriel tries to move past you but you continue to follow him. “When would be a better time? You’re hardly home lately, and you leave at a moment’s notice for Rhysand.”
He whips his head at you, “it’s my job, my duty.”
You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure you could delegate a decent proportion of your work to the people under you that you both hand selected and trained yourself!
He sighs, exasperated, “it’s my job.”
A line you’ve heard a thousand times. You knew who he was when you began dating him, you’ve always known who he was and what he did.
But you thought his need to feel worthy would wane with time, not get worse.
“You put Rhys’s needs over mine!” You’re shouting now, something you never do, and Azriel bites back, “he’s my high lord - and yours.”
“That doesn’t mean he gets to keep you at his beck and call!” Your hands were running through your hair, unable to have the same argument again and again.
“That’s exactly what it means.”
“Oh so was it Rhys’s beck and call to push our wedding back three separate times?”
He whirls around at you, pointing, “That’s not fair and you know it.”
“Three times is not fair! It’s like you don’t even want it!”
His silence to your accusation rings through your ears. A damning, deafening silence.
You count to ten in your head, and he hasn’t made a sound, only looking at the ground.
His lack of words echo through your mind, even as his hands reach out to you, his desperate pleadings of “I-” and “baby” falling on deaf ears.
“I’m glad to see where we stand.”
You begin to turn, but stop yourself.
“When I told Nesta our wedding was delayed again, she told me if you really wanted it, really wanted me, you’d suggest we just run off and get married like Rhys and Feyre did.”
You take a shaky breath, “but you never did.”
You step back from him, unable to look him in the eye, unable to do much of anything, except retreat from your shared bedroom, softly shutting the door behind you.
Azriel stands in the now empty room, your footsteps ceasing down the hall but continuing in his mind. Every second he stands there, the further you become. He starts to move, starts to pick up his feet, his shadows urging him to go, go, go.
You can fix this, they tell him. Go, now.
His thoughts are broken up by Rhys’s voice, a smooth sound at such odds with the chaotic edges of his thoughts.
Az, I need you.
Azriel doesn’t even ask if it can wait. You’ll understand. He’s sure of it. He can fix things when he comes home. Rhys just needs him right now, he can help him out, then he can talk to you.
He scrawls a quick note on the table for you to find before retreating into his shadows.
He returns home a few hours later, his assistance speeding up Rhys’s needs. He stops to grab you your favorite flowers, a book you’ve been eyeing, and a necklace he’s had his eye on in the shop for ages.
The necklace gives him pause, as he realizes he first saw it eight months ago, its shine reminding him of your eyes.
Had it really been eight months?
He kept telling himself he was going to buy you the necklace for a special occasion, but so many have slipped by without his acknowledgment this past year.
Gods, he thinks, did he even celebrate your birthday?
Surely he hadn’t gotten that caught up in his work.
Had he?
The streets are quiet as he makes his way back to your shared home. He thinks over the past year and how he hardly saw you, and when he did, he often left not soon after seeing you.
He opens the door, the house eerily silent following your fight earlier. He deserved your silence. He couldn’t tell you how scared he was to marry you, tethering your soul to his for the rest of your lives.
You, who was so kind and so loving, shackled to him for eternity. He knew the insecurities were ridiculous, that you loved him with every part of yourself.
But that didn’t stop the self-hatred from oozing out of him every moment.
He hadn’t been there for you this past year. He had let his own need for approval overshadow your needs.
He groans, needing to find you so he can fix things. He walks through the house, not even realizing the book he’s carrying is a duplicate to the one sitting on the coffee table.
He starts really thinking, trying to remember the last time he had touched you, kissed you, held you.
Too long, he realizes, as he’s made his way through the whole house without a sign of you. A shadow wraps around his wrist, pulling him into the kitchen. He finds the note he had left earlier still on the table, but you had scrawled a second message underneath. Five words that break his resolve, forcing him to his knees. Your handwriting so clear, save for the splotched ink, wet from tears.
I wouldn’t marry me either.
#acotar fanfiction#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel x y/n#azriel angst#acotar writing
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Current series
Little sister
All in a days work (pt 1)
Summary: As Rhysands younger sister you had perfected the art of annoyance by the time of your fiftieth birthday. And making your brother regret all life choices was all done in a day's work.
Knock before you enter (pt 2)
Summary:Maybe Rhys should knock before he enters
Just peachy (pt 4)
Summary: After sparring with Cassian you feel just peachy
His littler sister
His littler sister (pt 3)
Summary: Azriel point of view of the things you do as Rhysands little sister
Did you plan on telling? (pt 5)
Summary: Azriel learns of your sparring incident with Cassian and this is his point of view of the day in question.
#acotar imagine#acotar x reader#acotar x you#azriel acotar#azriel x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#azriel angst#rhysand x sister!reader
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Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader
Lost in a Labyrinth I - Azriel x Reader
Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine.
Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part I
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure house and pay for it, but stay away from her.”
Rhysand’s words had played over and over again in his head since the Winter Solstice, three months ago. Azriel wasn't sure why he was taking him up on his shitty advice now but by some will of his own, he was standing in the shadows of the alley across the street from The Labyrinth—Hewn City’s most exclusive brothel.
Azriel only knew of this place because some of the high ranking nobles he spied on talked about it often. It was known for its secrecy, for making sure their clientele had confidentiality. There were far more pleasure houses that were known to the public, even one in Velaris, but the last thing Azriel wanted was word getting around that he had been seen visiting one. Partly because he liked keeping his love affairs secret, but mostly because he didn’t want to give that satisfaction to Rhysand.
When his shadows came back with no reports of any sightings of faeries nearby, Azriel crossed the distance to The Labyrinth. He knocked five times on the plain looking, unassuming door, following the instructions he had overheard.
A sliding peephole opened revealing a pair of dark eyes. “A bargain, Shadowsinger,” a male voice said through the door. “A copper for your eyes.”
“A silver for your tongue,” Azriel agreed. He felt a burning sensation behind his ear, the bargain tattoo forming.
This was another thing he had learned from spying— the secret bargain that would grant you access to The Labyrinth. A bargain that he wouldn’t speak of the people and things he might see here so long as they kept their silence in regards to his identity.
The door swung open a second later and the male guard ushered him in. The guard gave him a once over, his eyes stopping on the dagger sheathed on his thigh.
“No weapons allowed, Shadowsinger,” the guard ordered. “Especially around the girls.”
Azriel wordlessly unsheathed Truth-teller and let his shadows take it away. He didn’t tell the guard that it was pointless, that he could summon it back at any time regardless of whatever wards they had set up around here—his shadows didn’t abide by the typical rules of magic. But the guard didn’t need to know that.
The guard held out a gloved hand. “The entrance fee.”
Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch filled with coins. He set it in the guard’s palm without question.
The guard gave him a dip of the head, satisfied, before gesturing for him to continue on. Azriel strided down the dim hallway. He could already smell various aphrodisiacs and drugs amongst the intoxicating scent of arousal in the air. It spurred him on, kept his feet moving on the dark red carpet, not allowing him the chance to second guess his decision to come here.
He wasn’t sure what magic was at play, or if they specifically scented the hallway to further get their clients in the mood, but something was tugging him forward.
He finally made it to the other end of the hallway, where a black door was awaiting him. He opened it slowly, cautiously and when no threat appeared, stepped through the threshold. The door opened up into a large foyer of sorts with a large candle chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
Straight ahead was a grand staircase that led to the second floor. On both sides of the foyer were large double doors with masked guards standing in front of them, swords strapped to their backs.
Waiting for him in the center of the room was an older, High Fae female with generous curves, dressed decadently. A polite smile graced her pretty but aging face as she took him in.
“Shadowsinger,” she greeted with a dip of the head, her hands clasped in front of her. “Welcome to The Labyrinth. My name is Lydia. I will be your point of contact during your time here. Please follow me, I will show you to the girls so you may make your selection.”
This wasn’t the first time Azriel had visited a pleasure house. Gods, when they were younger, him, Rhysand and Cassian had gone to some together. Had even taken the same girl once. But this felt…different. The atmosphere was soft, sensual—not rowdy like the other brothels he had been to.
He followed Lydia into the first set of double doors, which led down another long corridor with more doors lining the wall, all numbered. Until they reached the end where another set of double doors waited. As soon as Lydia pushed them open and gestured for him to continue, soft music crept through the air.
Azriel walked into a heavily perfumed room, dimly lit much like everywhere else in this place. Dark red, velvet settees and cushions lined the walls and floors. Silks hanging from the ceilings gave each space a bit of privacy. A bar was on the opposite wall, fully stocked with various alcohols. Males and females, alike, were milling about the room in various states of undress, some paired up on the couches and chairs.
At the front of the room was a wall made entirely of glass that overlooked a courtyard. Hanging plants and flowered vines decorated the space. A large fountain bubbled in the middle of it. Girls in lingerie and silk robes sat on the stone benches and cushions on the floor, lingered near the fountain, danced to the soft music in corners of the courtyard—all giggling and chattering with each other.
“These are the girls in The Labyrinth,” Lydia explained. “If you would like to see our selection of males, let me know.”
His eyes wandered over the girls, all so beautiful and unique. Every single type of fae was here—from nymphs to firelings to High Fae. But his gaze was drawn towards a lone figure in one of the second story alcoves.
His breath was sucked from his lungs the minute his eyes fell on her. She was…she was so beautiful. The most beautiful female he had ever seen in his five hundred years of living. She was dressed in a light pink lingerie set, a sheer robe hanging over it with white fur trims. She was alone, resting an elbow on the stone railing with her chin plopped in her hand as she gazed out into the carved mountainside within Hewn City.
He couldn’t rip his eyes away from her.
“Are any of them suited to your tastes, Shadowsinger?” Lydia questioned from beside him, knocking him out of whatever spell he had been put under.
“Her,” he answered, his voice a mere whisper, as he dipped his head towards the female he couldn’t help but stare at.
Lydia murmured something to one of the masked servants walking around with trays of champagne flutes. A moment later, one returned and handed the female a slip of paper. She clicked her tongue at whatever she read.
“Apologies, Shadowsinger,” she said, “But it looks like she’s already been chosen for tonight. Do any—”
“By who?” Azriel growled before he even realized, his shadows whirling around him. Lydia looked up at him with a stern look that accentuated all the fine lines on her face.
“You know I can’t tell you that,” she chided. Azriel gave her a sheepish look, not knowing what had come over him. “It looks like any of the other girls are still up for the taking if you’d like to choose another?”
But Azriel couldn’t stop staring at the girl in the pink. Couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her. None of the other girls caught his attention. He had come here looking for a quick, no strings attached, fuck but that desire, that need—it was like it had been sucked right out of him.
“I…” he trailed off, suddenly reeling back into his body. Lydia was staring up at him expectedly but he took a step away. “N-no. I’m sorry. I should…I should go.”
Not a second later, his shadows swirled around him, whisking him away.
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Azriel wasn’t sure what drew him back to The Labyrinth the next night. Or the night after. Each time he came, he asked for that girl in pink, and each time, he was told she had already been booked for the night. It would’ve been easy to accompany Mor to Rita’s and find a plethora of females that would fuck him for free. But none of them would’ve been her.
He wasn’t even sure why he was becoming so obsessed with a girl he’d never even talked to. Obsessed enough to travel to Hewn City, pay the copious entrance fee, just to leave when he was told she was still not available.
But here he was.
Again.
Standing at the doors to The Labyrinth.
It had become such a reoccurrence that Lydia would merely shake her head no at the sight of him, already knowing what he was there for. He was sure tonight would go more or less the same. But he was surprised when he caught sight of Lydia standing in the large, intricate foyer and she shook her head yes.
“Well, Shadowsinger,” she said, “I admire your persistence. It seems it is your lucky day. The girl you’ve been waiting for is available. Please, continue on up the stairs and into The Labyrinth. She will be waiting for you behind the ninth door.”
Azriel gave her a dip of the head before striding past her to the staircase. His shadows were swarming him—excited about something. He tuned them out, pushing open the black doors waiting for him at the top of the stairs.
He paused for a second, feeling like he had suddenly been transported somewhere else. Instead of one long hallway like he’d been expecting, the doors opened to a maze of large pillars, multiple pathways lit by candles placed on the floor.
He sent his shadows forward to scout the place and locate the ninth door that Lydia had mentioned. He followed their trail which led him to a red door with a number nine painted on it in a darker shade of red that looked suspiciously like blood.
He let out the breath he had been holding as he wrapped his scarred fingers around the doorknob and slowly pushed it open.
Slow, sultry music met his ears and the scent of pomegranates and cardamom flooded his senses. It was intoxicating, beckoning him forward. He softly shut the door behind him before he completely paused in his tracks as he turned to face the room.
There, standing with her back to him, was the girl who had been utterly consuming his mind since he had first laid eyes on her. She was wearing a light pink nightgown that laced down her lower back. She was bent forward slightly, lighting a candle on a coffee table set up in front of a pair of red velvet couches.
His eyes trailed over the room for a second, trying to gather his bearings. It was a large room, large enough to have a sitting area separate from the four-poster bed covered in silk and textured fabrics. Everything fit the same color scheme as the other rooms he’d been in, red and black. Lit only by candles, the soft lighting only added to the sultry atmosphere.
Some smoke lingered in the air, making everything a bit more hazy. He recognized the scent as a popular aphrodisiac often used during parties with high nobility. His shadows seemed lulled by the music, drifting around him lazily as he stood in place.
He stood frozen as she finally turned around and met his gaze. He had thought her beautiful that day he had seen her up on the balcony, but this close, well… beautiful was not strong enough of a word. She looked crafted for the Gods, a being not meant to walk alongside man. His breath was sucked right out of his lungs again, his eyes widened as his shadows reacted by lowering themselves onto the ground, leaving him bare.
“There you are,” she purred, her voice as smooth as silk and honey. “I’ve heard you’ve been waiting for me.”
Azriel swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing with the motion. He watched her eyes track it, watched how her smirk slipped into a soft smile instead. He opened his mouth to speak, to say anything, but it was like no thoughts existed in his head except for an image of her.
“A bit shy, are you?” She teased after he failed to speak, walking towards him and holding out a hand with well manicured nails. “That’s okay, my love, let me take care of you.”
She grasped his hand in her much smaller one, not even flinching when her skin met contact with his brutal scars. He let her guide him to the couch and push him to sit, entranced by her very presence. She moved to the bar cart behind him, running a delicate hand over his shoulders as she did, before pouring two glasses of whiskey.
She meandered back over to him, plopping on the couch next to him before handing him one of the glasses. She clinked her glass against his. “For the nerves, my love.”
Azriel wanted to tell her that he wasn’t nervous, but that would be a lie. He had no idea why he had been reduced to the shy teenage boy he had been in his youth but he couldn’t shake himself from the feeling. Her presence was overwhelming, intimidating. Like she somehow held his entire being in the palm of her hands.
“Thank you,” he grunted out, his voice rough. He cleared his throat before downing his glass of whiskey in one go. She followed his lead, her smoky eyes never leaving his as she swallowed her whiskey. Beneath the exaggerated desire he found in them was a more calculating look, like she was trying to figure him out.
A bit of the whiskey slipped out of the side of her mouth, dripping down her chin and neck to the crevice between her breasts. Azriel’s gaze followed it, his cock tightening in his pants as he wished to lick it off her gleaming skin.
“Oops,” she giggled, swiping it up with a finger and sucking it into her mouth. “Would you like another glass?”
He shook his head. He didn’t want to be drunk for this. He wanted to savor every second of his time with her, the girl who had been plaguing his thoughts night and day.
“You seem tense, Shadowsinger,” she purred with a pout, making his eyes dip to her full, red painted lips. “I can fix that.”
She reached forward and ran a slender hand up his chest and he nearly moaned at the feeling of her touching him. His hand latched onto hers, stopping it in its tracks.
“What’s your name?” Azriel asked, finally speaking. He needed to know. Needed to taste the way it felt to say it on his tongue as much as he needed to taste her.
“Serenity,” she replied with a coy smile. “But you can call me anything you like, my love.”
His eyes searched hers. “That’s not your real name, is it?”
“Of course not, darling,” she giggled. She leaned towards him, close enough that her breath fluttered over his ear. His cock twitched in his pants, his skin heated. “I think the real question is, what would you like me to call you, Shadowsinger?”
“Azriel,” he breathed out. “Just…just Azriel.”
“Azriel,” she repeated in that voice of silk and honey.
His eyes darted down to her lips again. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help how turned on he felt. Was it the aphrodisiacs in the room? Or perhaps the whiskey had hit just right? He didn’t care. All he knew was he needed to have her.
Azriel let go of her hand, letting her continue her travel up his chest until she grabbed the empty glass in his hand and set it down on the table in front of them. She made eye contact with him again, slowly moving to straddle him on the couch, wrapping her arms around his neck lightly. He bit back a groan as her weight fell on his hardening member.
“What is it you’re here for, Azriel?”
His brain couldn’t focus with her in his lap. Her eyes were so mesmerizing, her scent one he could get high off. His hands found her waist, the silk fabric of her nightgown so smooth against his rough skin.
“You,” he whispered, honestly. Because that was the truth. He had seen her and knew he needed to have her.
“I’m yours, Azriel,” she giggled. “Any way you want me.”
If he were a better male, perhaps now would be the time he realized this might be a mistake. But he wasn’t a better male. He couldn’t be. Not when her body was pressed against his, not when she looked so beautiful staring up at him with her large, expressive eyes, and certainly not when his body was singing for her—hungering for her like she was the only sustenance he needed.
So Azriel surged forward and kissed her.
Lightning exploded, skittering over his skin, the moment his lips touched hers. He groaned at the feeling of their softness. She let out a small sigh as she kissed him back, melting in his lap, pressing herself closer to him.
Azriel slid a hand up her exposed back until he grasped her by the back of the neck and tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss, finally taking control of the situation. His cock hardened painfully as she spread her legs further, allowing her heat to rub against him.
He kissed her like a starved male, licking along her bottom lip, compelling her to part her lips for him. She let him consume her, let him slip his tongue into her mouth and taste her fully.
So sweet.
So divine.
Azriel broke the kiss, letting her gasp for air. The scent of her arousal had his eyes rolling back in his head. Still holding her by the back of the neck, he twisted her head to the side and pressed his lips just below her ear before trailing down her jaw and to her delicate neck.
She moaned, squirming in his lap and rubbing against his hard length, only spurring him on more. His other hand started working on unlacing her nightgown. His fingers fumbled over the ribbon, until finally, it came undone and fell, pooling at her waist.
Azriel pulled back to look at her, now bare before him from the waist up. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly with her breathing, her eyes dilated and full of lust, her lips swollen. The perfect image of desire.
“So beautiful,” he growled, before leaning forward and latching his mouth around her right nipple. She gasped, arching into his mouth as her hands fisted his hair.
“Azriel,” she whimpered, pushing her hips down against his bulge. He growled again, thrusting his hips up to meet hers.
His lips made a path back up to hers, taking her breasts in his palms as he kissed her deeply. She grinded down on his cock again, pulling a whine from the back of his throat that had her smiling against his lips.
He wanted to take his time with her, wanting to draw this out as long as he could. But he knew he wouldn’t last. Not when the need to be in her was causing him to strain against his pants to the point of pain.
Azriel stood, lifting her up with him with an arm under her ass and the other wrapped around her. He let his shadows swarm them, stepping out right in front of the bed. She was breathless as he dropped her onto the soft pillows and sheets, her hair fanning around her head like a halo.
An Angel.
That’s what she was.
A godsdamn Angel.
He couldn’t keep his hands off of her, running them down her body as he pulled her nightgown all the way off, leaving her entirely bare before her. She moved to sit up, reaching for the buttons of his shirt but he lightly grasped her throat in his hand and pushed her back down.
“How do you want me, Azriel?” She hummed, seductively, wrapping her hands around his wrist.
Azriel leaned down, running his nose along the column of her throat until his mouth was beside her ear.
“First, I want you coming on my fingers,” he commanded, his voice husky with desire. “Then my tongue. And then my cock. Do you understand?”
She swallowed audibly, nodding her head.
“Words, angel,” he smirked. “Use your words.”
“Yes, Azriel, I understand,” she whimpered, the scent of her arousal peaking.
He inhaled deeply before pulling away and dropping to his knees before her. She sat up on her elbows, letting out a small cry as he hooked his arms around her thighs and yanked her towards the end of the bed.
Her sex was glistening with her want and Azriel groaned at the sight, unlacing his pants with one hand to relieve some pressure. He watched her as he dipped forward and ran his tongue up her slit, his eyes rolling back at the sweet taste of her.
She tossed her head back with a moan, spreading her legs wider for him. Azriel didn’t waste any time. He sucked and licked at her clit with a hunger he’d never felt before, his cock twitching every time he drew out a moan or cry from her lips.
True to his word, his finger swirled around her entrance, causing her hips to thrust closer and closer. He continued his ministrations as he slid a single finger inside of her, cursing as he felt how tight she was wrapped around him.
“Azriel,” she cried out as he added a second finger before slowly thrusting in and out of her. “Fuck.”
He continued to suck that spot that had her crying out, pure waves of euphoria crashing through her body. His fingers began to thrust inside of her faster and faster as her moans became more frequent.
“That’s it, angel,” he praised as she rutted against his fingers. “Fuck yourself with my fingers.”
She whimpered, her movements frenzied as he latched his mouth back on her clit, sucking in rhythm with his fingers. One of her hands gripped his hair while the other fisted the sheets and she squirmed in pleasure until he pushed her over the edge.
“Az…Azriel,” she cried, arching her back as flames licked their way through her body. “I’m gonna—”
Azriel didn’t stop, palming himself with his free hand as she orgasmed, pulsating around his fingers with a loud moan. He slipped his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue just in time to feel the aftershock ripple through her.
She tried to pull his head away, but he didn’t relent. He needed her on his tongue, needed to fulfill the hunger inside of him. It wasn’t long before he had her screaming through her second orgasm, lapping at the wetness pooling between her thighs. Azriel didn’t let up as he rode out her orgasm with his tongue, not until her body was writhing in pleasure and she was begging him to stop.
He stood, sticking one of the fingers covered in her juices into his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned. “Gods, you taste so good.”
He left her panting on the bed as he made quick work of ripping his clothes off. His eyes were black with lust, his shadows spilling all around him in his craze. Gods, he needed her so bad. Every piece of her.
He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her and crashing his lips against hers. His tongue was still claiming her mouth as her hands roamed the muscles of his chest, sliding down to his cock. He groaned into her mouth as she ran her hand up and down his shaft.
“Please,” she begged.
“Please what, angel?” He nipped at her bottom lip. “What is it you want?”
“Please fuck me, Azriel,” she whined.
The noise that came out of his throat at her words was one he’d never made before. He sat back on his haunches, replacing her hand with his as he guided himself towards her entrance, rubbing up and down against the wetness that was waiting for him.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he slid himself inside of her slowly. She moaned as Azriel let out an animalistic growl at the feeling of her wrapped around him. It wasn’t until he was all the way in her when they both finally released a breath.
“Fuck,” he grunted, falling forward and peppering kisses along her throat. “You feel so good.”
She whimpered at his praise and felt him smirk against her neck before he started to finally move, pulling himself all the way out her before thrusting back in, faster this time. She cried out as he slammed into her.
Azriel set a punishing pace, thrusting into her again and again. His shadows seeped from him until nearly every crevice of the room was taken over by his darkness.
Her nails raked down his back, between his wings as she let him take her. He claimed her mouth again, passionately swallowing each moan he pulled from her. Her hips began to meet his with each thrust, pushing him deeper and deeper inside of her.
“Gods, Azriel,” she cried, squeezing around him as he hit that sweet spot inside her.
“Are you going to come on my cock, angel?” he cooed.
“Yes,” she mewled. “Yes, gods, yes.”
“Good girl,” he growled, nipping at her throat with his canines.
His words pushed her over the edge into the hot bliss of pleasure. She screamed his name as the lightning shot through her, her core pulsating with each strike.
“Fuck,” Azriel groaned. He rode out her orgasm and then his thrusts became harder, faster but sloppy with no rhythm as his own release slid up on him.
His tongue swirled around the base of her neck before an utterly feral growl ripped through him. And then he bit down on that spot. His canines ripped through the skin, sinking down into her flesh as he came, thrusting once, twice and one final time—burying himself in her.
They both panted in silence for a moment, coming down from their highs before Azriel slowly slipped out of her with a small whimper. He pulled away from her and she smiled up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and satisfaction.
And then something happened. Something he never thought would. Something he had only dreamed about but never wished for because he had thought it a waste of breath.
A golden string of light unwound itself and shot across the darkness, all the way to the beautiful girl before him.
The mating bond snapped.
His mating bond.
Azriel let out a choked noise, rising fully. He stumbled back in shock, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she sat up.
Fuck, his mate…
She was his mate.
His godsdamn mate.
This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not after he had just paid her to have sex with him. Not after he had come here for a shameless fuck. She’d never want him now. Why would she?
He hastily began picking up his discarded clothes and dressing himself. She did the same in her confusion, slipping her nightgown back on as she frowned at him.
“What happened?” Her voice was meek as she hugged an arm around herself, looking at him. “Have I…have I done something wrong?”
“N-no,” he stuttered, not looking her in the eyes. Gods, she would hate him if he told her now. She would not want anything to do with him. “No, I’m sorry. I-I need to go.”
“But you paid for the whole night,” she said, perplexed with a hint of insecurity. “Please, if I wasn’t good…if you didn’t enjoy it…I can do better, I swear it.”
He finally looked at her, at his mate. His heart sank in his chest at her words. Fuck, he was making this worse. He couldn’t stand the sight of her looking at him like she’d done something wrong. She was perfect. She had been perfect. It was him who fucked up.
“No, no, don’t. It’s not you," Azriel tried to reassure her. “I…it’s me. I need to go. I’m so sorry.”
“At least let me get you your money back,” she said, rubbing her arm. He felt sick to his stomach.
“No! No, please keep it,” he murmured, buttoning up his shirt as fast as he could. “I’m…I’m so sorry. This was a mistake.”
And then he disappeared in his shadows, her confused and hurt face the last thing he saw.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
a/n: so obvious this was entirely from Az's perspective but it will be reader y/n just in case it wasn't super obvious! Hope you guys enjoyed it! If you asked to be tagged but don't see your username, it wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :((
(also, now that the whole chapters out, if this isn't what you thought you were signing up for, no hard feelings if you asked to be removed from the taglist)
taglist: @itsswritten @impossibelle @lilah-asteria @heartless-tate @sheblogs @jesskidding3 @landofpetrichor @thecollegecowgirl @5onedirection5 @cherry-cin @fayeatheart @brieflyclassymortal @saltedcoffeescotch @glitterypirateduck @eyebagsanonymous @chxosangxl @daardyrnitta
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#azriel#acotar x reader#acotar x you#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar#azriel angst#azriel smut#azriel spymaster
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Azriel x Reader: The Bond of a Century
An old request that I decided to revamp
Request prompt: Can I request an Azriel x reader where the mating bond snaps for Azriel but not the reader? Kind of like how Feyra didn’t know Rhys was her mate till she was told.
My prompt: A bond forgotten for over a century and a half makes its way back to the forefront. All of it starts with Rhys asking for a favor.
This is a fluffy, steamy, angst-ish fic
I hope you enjoy!!!! My requests are open!!!
____________________________
This was the last thing you thought you would be doing for Rhys. Out of all the things, this-this is what he chose for you to do. Rhys had a sick twisted mind that put you in a situation you had no desire of being in or a part of. You mentally cursed at the high lord, hating him in the moment even though he was your dearest friend. Elain scoured the city for certain pots for her plants, and certain seeds for her garden. Azriel right by her side and you trailing behind them. All you wanted to do was to go back to your home near the docks. It was the first home you had when you first moved from Dawn to Velaris less than a century ago, but with some convincing Rhys and Feyre were able to get you to stay at the town house. It was only then did her sisters arrive, and at some point you were put to the task of keeping an eye on Elain with the occasional visit of Az. Honestly you wished you could train with Nesta, but Cassian was chosen for that task. You wouldn’t have minded living in the house of wind-“ I think I need to go to Day Court or maybe Spring,Oh perhaps we go to Dawn instead. They must have better pots.” Elain speaks more to Azriel than she does you. You were eyeing the various shops, and the people delighted to be around you, each grinning and waving at you. Another beautiful thing about Velaris you’d come to love. People were kind here.
Azriel smiled softly at her “ Of course, if that’s what you want” his voice was tender and sweet. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, turning your attention elsewhere. You hated being there dealing with this shit, but Rhys insisted you tag along, “It’s good for the soul. Get some fresh air” with that insane cat-like smirk. Ooo you shoot daggers into your mind, a deep chuckle echoing in the background.
“ Yes that’s what I want, thank you Az” Elain returned the gesture.
“ Alright then I’ll let Rhys and Feyre know-“ You say as you pinched a flower petal between your thumb and index finger. You looked away from it then back at them. The two watched you with curiosity, you let go of the petal. It was no simple task, an easy reminder of what you needed to do and a simple approval came from Rhys. A gentle poke in your mind causes you to shake your head.“-Let's get this over with” You take steps towards them placing your hands on their arms you effortlessly winnow the three of you to Dawn. The landing was gentle and less sickening, the three of you placed in a Market, one that you were familiar with.. Elain squealed with excitement as she rushed over to an area where she had seen fresh flowers, a few shops down could be seen a pottery shop, the two of you already trailing her.
“ Look at this beautiful bouquet! Y/N? Should we get this for the town house?” She gestures to the bouquet filled with many vibrant colors, various shapes and sizes. You were stumped, she normally doesn’t ask you these questions most of the time they were directed at Az.
“They look lovely Elain, I’m sure they’ll fit anywhere you put them..” You replied not really sure how to respond. Honestly you’ve never really thought about what flowers you liked or didn’t . It wasn’t something that was ever given to you, nor something you found and immediately fell in love with. You didn’t have anything against anyone who knew what they liked, you just-never had the experience of looking forward to your own set of plants. Even when you first attempted gardening most of your plants and flowers died, you simply didn’t have the skill or the eye for it..but that was okay, though on rare occasions it was something you wished you had..
Elain smiles awkwardly “ Well, maybe we can get it, it might brighten up the home. Make it seem more natural..comfortable” She pulls out her coins, handing it to the shopkeeper. The three of you move further heading over to the pottery shop that she explained earlier how she wanted to visit. Your eyes searched the area, checking for predators, anyone who might cause harm to the high lady’s sister, before entering the shop. You had other plans that you needed to attend to while the two looked around, it was in the midst of Elains discussion, mostly to Azriel about the various styles of pottery, that you planned to sneak off. It was only then did a voice capture your attention from behind you.
“ Y/N, I must admit I never pegged as you someone who might be interested in pottery” Thesan, high lord of Dawn, speaks out, the entire shop haunting their work to bow at his presence. He waved his hand dismissing them easily back to work. Azriel positions himself so that he stands near you with Elain behind him, she peers her head out, trying to see who it was that spoke so elegantly. A small smile graces your features at that familiar voice you knew so well as you shifted to face Thesan, who was already grinning. Azriel didn’t miss it, taking note of it.
“What if I was?” You retorted,
“ Then that would be a surprise”
“I hate to burst your bubble High Lord but I’m here on business not for pleasure” You replied, the two of you sharing a small laugh together. Azriel forced his expression into neutrality, Elains eyes sparkled with curiosity and intrigue. Thesan looks behind you for a moment, taking in the Shadowsinger and the woman next to him.
“ Ouch, that one hurt Y/N, I see you brought friends, Shadowsinger” Thesan greets civilly no hate present.
“ Thesan,” Azriel gives a simple head nod in his direction, there was no need for malice, Thesan had always been a great friend of Rhys’s and now apparently yours. Though a feeling crept inside his chest, this odd feeling takes root, Azriel does his best to shove it away, especially with Elain right next to him..
“ And you must be Elain, one of the sisters of High Lady Night.”
“ Yes I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you” Elain smiles with a blush that creeps along her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how to respond being that a high lord, whom she never met knew she existed. The surrealness of the situation becomes a reality, the more she realizes how well known her sister is, how well known both of her sisters are including herself. A delighted yet astonishing experience for her, something she wasn’t used to yet.
“ Same to you, i hope you don’t mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment or two, there’s somethings I’d like to discuss” Thesan offered but secretly it was a meeting that needed to take place. You were in fact here on business, something that Rhys specifically shared with you and no one else. Dawn used to be your home, but when you were moved to Velaris, you became the seg way for Dawn and Night. Your job was to be the emissary for both sides, keeping the courts relationship in even better shape. You missed your home dearly at times, and you missed Thesan whom you were extremely close too, and who you cared about, even with this being only for business there was some pleasure that came out of it.
“ No of course not, I’m sure she could use a break from us, right Azriel?” Elain looks up to him but his eyes were trained on you and Thesan. You were ready to join him without so much as another word, it struck a nerve in him, why? What could possibly be the topic of conversation between you two? Why do you only need to speak with him? Surely Rhys would’ve told him what this meeting was about? Why hadn’t you come to him for advice or as a second set of ears? Why was the meeting a secret?-“Azriel?”Elain calls out to him, you were looking at him suspiciously, your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes flickering across every part of his face and bodily language. Azriel adjusts himself, shielding off whatever thoughts or feelings he harbored in the moment. He blinks, his eyes drift back to Elain then back to you and Thesan “ Go ahead, we’ll be here in the shop if you need us, we leave in about two hours”
“ Alright then I will have my men escort the two of you back to my palace.” Thesan replied, You eased the questioning look off your face, you shift back towards Thesan, the two of you walking out of the shop, the conversation immediately flowed. He could see the smile on your face, and yet again the melodic sound of laughter that left your lips. The high lords' guards remained in place while Azriel and Elain both continued their shopping. However, that didn’t stop him from taking one last look out the door.
When the two hours were up, Azriel and Elain were guided securely to the Palace where he’d find you and Thesan walking along the hall. Thesan stopped in his tracks grabbing your arm, it forces you to halt in place, your body halfway facing him. His mouth moves but Azriel can’t hear what he’s saying, he lifts a hand to your face gently swiping at your cheek. He removes his hand, pulling you gently into a tight embrace. Azriel could see the way you held onto him tightly, as if you dared to let go. The two of you stayed in that position for a few moments until you both eventually pulled away. Why were you crying? Were you hurting? Were they happy tears? Did he say something to you? What was it? There were too many emotions to pinpoint, Azriel’s chest continued to tighten at the emotions he felt. You left Thesans' side offering him one last smile, but that smile fades, when you approach them.
“It’s time, are you ready?” You ask softly, your demeanor changed, a bit relaxed but a heavy weight stays on your shoulders. You roll them back, adjusting yourself. Azriel watches you with such careful eyes, you paid no mind, your thoughts elsewhere.
“ Yes-“ Elain starts but her gaze flickers back and forth between you both. For Elain it was rather odd to see the two of you interact, when she had met you, your relationship with Azriel was already thin, you were distant with him compared to everyone else. Elain assumed that your relationship had always been like that, but now she wasn’t so sure..
“ Are you alright?” Azriel asks you, his hand twitches slightly, part of him restrains himself, the other yearned to reach out for you. But you were quick to recover, offering him a reassuring smile.
“ Yeah I’m fine, let’s go.” You placed your hands on both of them, winnowing them back to the town house. There Nuala and Cerridwen greeted the three of you. Nuala took the pots out of Elains hands, Cerridwen took the flowers and placed them in another vase. Elain begins gushing about the journey to Dawn, how gorgeous it was..You sighed exhausted leaving the space quietly to head to your own room. Azriel was about to follow you when Elain called for his help in the kitchen. Azriel hesitated staring up at the staircase. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? He’s a Shadowsinger, a spymaster, and he can pry details out of anyone but you. All he can feel is your emotions-your emotions... Elain had pulled Azriel from his thoughts as she hugged a pot to herself.
“Az? Are you coming?” She says as she waits for him to follow her to the garden. Again he hesitates but he feels a stirring in his chest. Azriel lifts up a hand instinctively touching it, a sharp sensation could be felt beneath his chest. It couldn’t be? Could it? Azriel’s eyes widen, Elain takes a breath “ I’ll be outside Az when you’re ready-“ Azriel moves his feet faster than his mind could process, he was out of the town house door, his wings pushing him off the ground shooting him into the sky, he needing some time to think..
___
The moons at its highest peak, your curtains flowing with gentle breeze that filtered through your bedroom. The candles and lights burnt out signaling that you were asleep, that was until you heard a creak in the floorboard, and the atmosphere changed, a darker presence filled the space. You were lying on your stomach, your hands slipping beneath the pillow as you grip the handle of the blade you’ve hidden beneath it. You felt the figure stop just before your bed frame, you could hear them bend down towards your face. As they reached for you, you swiftly reached out a free hand grabbing them, you flipped them onto the bed, rolling over pinning them down with your blade tucked against their neck in the most vulnerable area.
“ It’s only me” He whispers, the lights in the room reaching a dim hue, illuminating the area.
“ Jeez Az, I could’ve killed you” You replied tiredly, you pulled back the blade placing it on the end table. Azriel’s eyes followed your movement above him, your hips and legs straddling him, your hair in an unruly nature, from slumber. The candles hue amidst the room, caresses your face, your bare legs, your skin making it appear warm to the touch. You had worn a tunic that wasn’t yours, it hugged loosely around your body frame. The tunic looked oddly familiar to Azriel but then again he wasn’t so sure. All he wanted to do was rip whoevers tunic that belonged to, off of your body and replace it with his.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-” He apologizes,”-I have one question I’d like to ask you” Azriel whispers, as he watches your facial expression twitch into a sleepy confusion.
“This couldn’t wait till morning?” You sighed as your hand moved to rub the sleep from your face. You remove yourself from him, you slip off the bed but not before Azriel caught your wrist. He shifts himself so that he sits up lifting himself off the bed. He towers over you, the candle's glowing light touches his features in a way that it could come off intimidating, but there was a more intimate, soft, texture that made him appear more angelic.
“ No I’m afraid not.” He admits.
You nod your head” What’s your question?”
“ How long have you known about the bond?”Azriel’s voice low, as if to test the waters but enough to plunge himself. He needed answers and after speaking with Rhys, it was his right.
“ What?” Your face dropped, your skin becoming clammy as nervousness passes through you, sleepiness evades you.
“ You heard me, answer the question” his eyes switch between both of yours, searching and evaluating. He tried to pinpoint every emotion you felt, he tried to feel you through, the only thing stopping him was- you.
“ It's not that simple-” You shook your head, pulling your wrist out of his hold. You weren’t prepared for this, you weren’t ready to unravel all that you worked so hard to ignore.
“ It is that simple” Azriel continued to pry, he didn’t need the bond to notice how uncomfortable and painful this topic was for you-it was news to him, he wanted the truth..no lies no games only the truth
“ No, it’s not. It’s complicated-“ You looked away from him moving to the other side of the room. You couldn't find the words to explain this situation, your reasoning. What if what you told him set him off? What if this ruins everything between your friendships? The alliance that has been created? So many thoughts and questions, never enough answers…but for Azriel you did have an answer to his question..
“ Complicated enough for you to leave.” It was then that feeling in your chest, it builds a thick pressure. A heavyweight on your shoulders, the air almost sucked out your lungs. “ Is that what you told Rhys when you were packing your bags?” You couldn’t breathe, Azriel’s footsteps followed you till he was right behind you. You faintly feel the pulse of his surprise and his anger, as if it was your own, but it had been so long since you’d tapped into the bond. You had spent a century ignoring it, shielding it, and now, it was muscle memory..
“ Don’t make me do this..” You whispered out, a silent plea to move on, to let this go.
“ You knew, and yet you decided not to tell me” His voice held a deep frustration, a deep want and need. He wasn’t going to give up, he had a way with finding out the truth..
“ That’s-not what happened..” You were again stumped with words, torn between giving in or lying, torn between running away or staying..
“ No? Then what happened?” He continues to look down at you, you refuse to meet his gaze. Azriel doesn’t take no for an answer moving towards the front. He stands in front of you. His smell, his faint emotions from the bond slowly consuming you. It surrounds you, his shadows dance along the edges of the room, waiting, watching, whispering.
“ Az-” You warned him, it was another weak attempt to fight him off. But he continued to poke, to pull, to pry, to grasp at anything you’d give him. You were tired, exhausted, hiding your emotions, your thoughts, your protected heart and mind bound to collapse, all secrets were meant to escape..
“ I want the truth, Y/N-”. You took a deep breath, your nerves running a mile a minute. His own anxiousness was replaced with a demanding thirst for the truth. A truth that belonged to him too. You’ve kept this wonderful secret to yourself, he watched as his own family found mates that paired well with them. Watching as their life finds the pieces to the puzzle it was missing. Deep down he wanted that very same thing. He felt as though he may not deserve it but he craved it, to be loved unconditionally… “-You owe me that much”
You sighed, your heart shattering, you gave in, you really hadn’t planned too but the look in his eyes-, “..Before Amarantha began her reign, Rhys made an offer to Thesan to let me stay in Velaris, as an emissary between the courts. It was then that I found out that we were mates… It was then that the deal was made.“
“All these years and you kept this to yourself, why?” His eyebrows furrowed.
“ Because I knew you were in love with Mor. I wasn’t going to take that from you. But I did wait for you, I waited a long time. But when it became an achingly slow desperation, I gave up. I practiced silencing the bond, so I couldn’t feel the emotions you felt when you were around other-women..romantically and lustily I mean. Then Elain came around and it was the same process. I’m exhausted, Azriel. I can’t keep doing this”
“ You didn’t bother to try! You’re running back home because you never thought to ask how I might’ve felt!” His jaw tenses, his head slightly tilted to the side, his frustration grows, at this notion of forcing the information out of you, when you should’ve let it happen, when you should’ve told him..
“ I didn’t because I wanted you to come to your own conclusion. I wanted it to be as natural as possible but you were so invested in Mor and Elain and I’m not one to take you away from that. But I also miss the people I care about, I miss my old home-It’s time for me to go-” You protested.
“ What does Rhys think of this?” Azriel jaw twitches.
“ He was the one who encouraged me to speak with Thesan-“
“ Is that what the discussion was between the two of you?” He presses.
“ Yes but-“ You attempt to defend yourself.
“ Y/N, what exactly did you say to him?” Azriel wanted every detail, every version of this story, of his story, of his mates-his mate.
“ I didn’t- I didn’t say anything. I asked if I could return home, and he told me that I should stay here, that if I truly wanted to come home then he’d considered it.” Your heart leaps into your throat, you swallow it back, the feeling collecting.
“ His answer wasn’t even a Yes” Azriel’s scoffs shaking his head, his hands on his hips as he looks at the floor and then away at the window.
“ Yes- but it’s my decision-“ You looked up at him, watching his movements carefully.
“ No it’s not, you’re not going back there.” He challenged, his eyes find their way back to yours.
“ You can’t decide that.” You tell him, the two of you hurting by the weight of your decision. Azriel’s own heart squeezes painfully, at how easy it was for you to say those words to him. You were his, he wasn’t going to let you just walk away, not without fighting for you.
“ Why not? You’d already decided to keep this to yourself regardless of how I felt” He takes a step forward his arms falling back down to his side.
“ Azriel please listen to me-“ You tried to reason, you tried to find a way to break through, he wasn’t thinking straight, you weren’t thinking straight, neither one of you.
“ No you listen, all those years, all those centuries, you were my friend, and you were someone who loved me. Loved me enough to sacrifice what you felt so I could find happiness. In the depths of my mind I have fought and searched for you without realizing that you were here in front of me..I was too blind to see it. ” His hands flew to your face, your jaw, cupping it, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones. Your hands follow suit as your fingers grip his wrists. His shadows remove themselves from the dark corners of your room, shooting out to tangle around your wrists, not to pull your hands away but to hold you there in place. “ Please don’t run from me” He whispers, his forehead dipping down to rest on yours. His hands slide from your cheeks to the sides of your neck.
“ Az-I can’t stay” You replied quietly, your hands pulling at his wrists weakly at his. You both knew that you could take him down easily, but at this moment in time the two of you were struggling. The tension grew thick in the air. A sort of sharp feeling intensifies, the faded familiarity that was the bond, solidifies. You thought that you had successfully mastered the art of blocking the bond but no. Azriel must’ve truly accepted it, a different feeling takes over, Azriel hums at the feeling. You sucked in a breath.
“ You can’t leave without knowing I’ve accepted the bond” His nose brushes against yours. You shook your head once more, completely pushed Azriel away. Your hands fly to your head, your fingers tangling in your hairs. You wanted nothing more than to curl into yourself, this was too surreal, too overwhelming. You’d spent so long, alone, and working, on occasions waiting. Now you were uncertain, even more than you had been hours ago. Azriel could feel your indecisiveness, he just needed to bring you back to him.
Azriel followed you, he pulled your hands from your hair, one of them he placed on his chest, his heart beating beneath it, you couldn’t look at him. But you could feel the gentleness, the love that flowed through him into you. “ My heart, my soul belongs to you” he tries again. You could feel your body sag at the feeling of comfort. It was so intense and welcoming. You wanted to wrap yourself in it-but you fought it, you were so used to the fighting, the restraint, the self control. “Let go” His voice reaches into the depths of your mind, into your soul, calling out to you.
You placed your forehead on his chest, your hand leaving the area above his heart. Azriel’s wings moved to surround you, his shadows moved to get to you, tangling themselves in your hair, caressing your face and hands. They speak to you wishing you nothing but love and happiness. They bring you comfort, your eyes fluttering shut.
“ Y/N” Azriel calls out. You could feel his hands cupping your face once more tilting it upwards, his breath light. You could feel how close he was, Azriel was right there, all he needed to do-Az’s lips crashed down onto yours, so soft, and yet his kiss held all his desperation, his passion. He couldn’t hold back, not with you, not when he loved you so. You weren’t surprised, in fact you hadn’t realized how much you yearned for his touch, his kiss. Azriel turns his head to the side deepening the kiss, a quiet moan slips out. By the cauldron Azriel loved to hear that sound, he wanted to hear it again, and again, and again. For as long as he lived and breathed.
You were putty in his hands, the feeling of his touch, his thoughts, his emotions was putting you in overdrive. Your mind couldn’t comprehend nor catch up to the pace in which things were happening. Azriel lets go of your lips for a brief moment, allowing you a chance to breathe, a whimper and the need for air also escapes your lips. Azriel had to fight the urge to keep himself from taking you right then and there. You had the urge to let him do it, you placed your hands on his chest pushing him back a step. You couldn’t think with him in your space, Azriel wasn’t going to budge, but with the way you were so caught up and caught off guard, he let you take a second.
“Okay-“ You breathed out. Azriel’s eyes light up, a smile threatens to break out. “ I-um-“ You cleared your throat,”Uh-I-I accept the bond..” you whispered the last part. Azriel’s heart gave a squeeze of joy, his chest filled with lightness, with happiness and relief. All he had ever hoped for had finally come to fruition. A twinkle of mischief sparks in his eyes, a smirk finds its way onto his beautiful features.
“ What was that?” He asks, yet you squint your eyes at him, you know he heard, he knows he heard you, but he wanted you to say it again. “-I didn’t quite hear you” You bit the inside of your cheek still squinting at him. You sighed, your body began to relax, your facial expressions changing to that of a sheepishness. You were struggling to admit it, Azriel waited for you patiently.
“ I-“
“ Yes?”
“ Az” You raised your eyebrows at him, as if to say I’m trying here.
“ I’m sorry, please go on.” He encourages you.
You sighed as you tried again this time “ I accept the bond-” You are much more confident and certain. “I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. You were right, my heart and soul belongs to you-“Azriel couldn’t contain himself much longer as took you into his arms and spun you around. A victorious grin graced both of your features, and for once the weight of the world didn’t feel so heavy in your chests. You gave a light hearted giggle, your heart swooning. Azriel places you back on the ground. You smiled brightly, the twinkle reaching your eyes. “This is happening?” You asked out loud, you searched for clarification.
“ Yeah it is” Azriel let go grabbing your hand pulling you towards the window. You tilted your head to the side, a sweet smile on your lips, a playful yet teasing expression stretches onto Azriel’s face. “Do you trust me?” his hand extends outward.
“ Yes.” You lift your hand to place it into his, this time a new height sense fills both your bodies. The touch feels like a loving hum on your skin. Your minds, your souls, finally resting after all the searching that it had done. You place your hand in his, he guides you out of the window onto the terrace of the town house. You followed him blindly, willingly. Azriel stood taller in the moonlight, and the stars above shining, his shadows nowhere to be found, it was just him. “ Az wait- Elain-“
“She knows, and I’m sure she will be upset with me, but she has Lucien..She doesn’t need me.” He nods. You watch him closely, as you slowly lift a hand to caress his cheek, the touch sweet and warming. Azriel instinctively leans into your touch, turning his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.
“ I’m sorry” You whispered, you realized that you may have ruined a friendship for him, a little bit more than a friendship..
“ No I’m sorry” he replies as he takes you back into his arms, the sounds of the city's music playing amongst the trees, the flowers, the plants, the night sky seeming more inviting, more alive. All Azriel knew was in this moment in time he finally understood the accept of the bond, the waiting, the calling, you had always been there waiting for him, you gave him time, space, anything he needed to figure himself out..All those times he spent with other women- then it dawned on him, had you done the same? You chuckled upon feeling that jealous emotion. “ Who’s tunic are you wearing?”
“ Az, it’s yours”
“ What-“ You peel yourself out of his arms.
“ This tunic you let me borrow on a mission we had, remember? Court of nightmares? I was stuck in a brothel, I ended up fighting my way out, my clothes were completely shredded?” You offered bits and pieces of the memory, Azriel’s takes a moment to recollect and it hits him.
“ Yes I remember, you ate a bowl of soup that night at one of the hostels. You hated it,” He chuckled as he remembered the disgusted look on your face. You laughed alongside him. You moved to head back towards your room but Azriel was quick to catch your hand.
”Where are you going?”
“Um-to make you something, we still have to seal the bond.”
“ Not here”
“ Then where?” Azriel grins as he throws one of your arms around his neck, one catches your back the other catches your knees.
“ Somewhere private, where I can have you all to myself, no distractions, just you and me” He whispers to you, his face dipping closer to yours, you sucked in a small breath, the blood beneath your skin singing, practically humming. His arms tightened their hold on you pressing you as flush to him as possible. Azriel looks away and upwards towards the night sky, his wings strong as they help push the two of you off the ground. Excitement filled the air, the night, seemed sweeter, less stuffy, inviting. You guessed that Thesan was right for making you stay here, to reconsider, you were thankful that he pointed you back in the direction of your mate. Azriel was happy that his brother fought for his love, fought for him to find happiness. It was more than just two courts keeping a civil peace, it was about two souls that needed to find each other, even if it takes a century.
#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel fluff#azriel smut#azriel angst#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel x reader#azriel x female!reader#poc reader#x reader#x y/n#imagines#acotar x reader#acotar fluff#acotar angst#acotar smut#acotar x you#acotar#fanfic readers#x poc reader#fluff#fanfic
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Notice Me! | Part two | Azriel X Freader
Azriel x Freader | Part one
Summary: Azriel courting oblivi reader
a/n; Heyy! This is the last part guys! Hope you enjoy 🤗 also I really recommend looking up the meaning of the flowers after you read. 💕
content/trigger warnings; food, cussing, kissing, one or two use y/n, no smut BUT some lust and hints to masturbation, Azriel pining, Cassian being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, rain mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it!💗
You are in a warm bath, infused with the scent of essential oils, a perfect remedy to the grime from your training. You shake the thought out of your head, cursing yourself. Azriel didn’t like you like that. Cassian kisses Feyre on the cheek all the time, so why did it mean anything different if he kissed you? It didn’t mean anything different. But still, ever since he had left for his mission you found yourself running your fingers over your cheek.
It felt as though your skin was ablaze, heat gathering in your thighs. You abruptly reached towards them, water splashing. Halting yourself, you felt a surge of guilt and shame. If Azriel knew what you were thinking, he'd avoid your gaze forever. The thought made you feel sick. You groaned aloud, resting your head against the edge of the tub. You longed for him, missed his enticing cooking and physique. No, just his cooking. You chastised yourself again. Bad thoughts!
Goosebumps arose on your skin. The water had become ice cold. You rose from the water, letting the air chill your skin. Your nipples hardened, and you wondered if it was from your imagination or the cold air. You quickly leaped from the tub, landing on the mat. You wrapped your towel around your body after drying your wet hair.
Your bare feet padded against the floor as you walked out of the bathroom, letting the house magic take care of the leftover water. Your room felt warmer upon entering, soothing you. The room smelt like musk and bourbon. Like Azriel almost. You shivered with delight, stepping to your vanity. You reached for your hair brush, looking into the mirror only to be met with horror.
You yelped in shock, turning to face the shadowsinger. He sat on your bed, holding one of your books. His wings were spread lazily on your covers. He huffed a laugh at your reaction, grinning. “That’s certainly not the welcoming I was expecting.” He concurred smugly.
“Azriel..” You muttered. He was early. And you hadn’t expected him to be here. “How long have you been back?” you asked. He smiled.
“I’ve been here for fifteen minutes waiting for you to get out of,” he paused, his eyes trailing down to your body, “your bath..”
You felt your face heat, suddenly realizing you wore nothing but a small towel. Your body was glistening wet. He looked you back in the eyes with a small smirk.
“Oh cauldron!” You squeaked, wrapping your arms around your body more tightly. He laughed, heartily. Azriel shook his head before standing. He laid your book down and with embarrassment you realized it was one of your more smuttier books. And by that you mean it was pure porn. There was nothing more embarrassing about this situation. He smirked at you again, before taking a few steps towards you. You notice there are fresh flowers on your nightstand now. It was a bouquet of red and pink flowers you hadn't seen before. You’d have to look them up in your flower guide.
“I have a training session where I plan on beating Cas’s ass, but I wanted to see you first. We’ll have lunch in around two hours, okay?” He demanded gently. You nodded shyly, unable to think of a coherent response. He smiled, pleased. He walked forward, and you hoped he would kiss you again. Just not on the cheek. But alas, he pulled you in a hug, his warm muscly body a hard contrast to your cold one. Your right hand held your towel in place, while your left wrapped around him. He shivered, and you figured it was due to your wet hair?
Azriel let go quickly and abruptly and you wondered if you did something wrong. He smiled tightly. “See you in two hours, love.” He whispered affectionately before turning and taking flight from your balcony.
He left you standing there, wet all over, confused, warm, and also shivering. You still couldn’t wrap your head around this feeling you had.
After you changed into a tank top and shorts you approached the flowers on your nightstand. They were gorgeous. You bit your lip as you grabbed a flower guide book, ready to find what type of flowers they were.
They were pink bluebells and red chrysanthemums.
A beautiful sandwich filled with all your favorite toppings, sat in front of you. Courtesy to Azriel. You sighed, wondering if you’d ever be as good as a cook Azriel was. It was truly a hidden talent of his. There wasn’t something he couldn’t fix.
A warm leathery wing brushed on your bare shoulder as he passed by. He sat his food down beside yours before pulling out a chair and setting it directly by yours. It was now lunch time. Both Cassian and Azriel were sweaty muscly messes. Their skin glistened with pure sweat. And you wondered how Azriel still managed to smell like a god still. After you left your room, you spent some time enjoying the morning breeze and relaxing. When it came time for lunch, you walked to the dining area. Azriel was waiting for you in the kitchen where he made your sandwich and a drink for you. Every detail of it was to your liking.
Cassian, of course, stood in the corner complaining about Azriel never fixing him sandwiches. Azriel had knocked him in the face with his wing, shutting him up. Cassian stayed in the kitchen, munching on some snacks. He feigned not paying attention to you nor Azriel.
Both of your chairs were back less, as to accommodate for wings. Sure, your skin felt a little chilly in the air due to your tank top. But Azriel’s wing, warm from training in the sun, stayed on your back. It was comforting. Like a blanket that's been sitting by a cozy fireplace.
Azriel pushed the plate towards you again, motioning for you to start eating. When you started, and he was sure you were satisfied with the taste, he started eating his too. And, of course, everything tasted perfect. When you both finished, the house took care of the plates. Cassian and Nesta had joined at the other end of the table, talking to each other as they ate. You caught yourself admiring them- the love they had. That you felt you would never have. They bickered, sure. But they were so in love. You couldn’t help but envy them. If only a guy loved you like that.
Your thoughts broke when Azriel started talking. He had a soft smile as he told you of his mission. Apparently the queens were doing okay and hadn’t been stirring up trouble, so he was able to leave early.
“You didn’t starve while I was away did you? Next time I’ll drag you with me so I can actually focus on my mission.” He muttered running his hands through his hair. Azriel always spoke softly unless angry. Or at least you had never heard him get loud. You didn’t catch Cassian and Nesta smirking at you both. Nesta couldn’t help but snort to herself. You were so oblivious. You didn’t even seem to notice Azriel only ran his mouth like this when around you. He seemed so open with you and comfortable.
“Of course I didn’t starve- wait, why couldn’t you focus on your mission?” You inquired, confused.
“Ah- No reason, dear.” He responded. His pet name went over your head. Azriel bit his lower lip, staring at you with intent eyes. He couldn’t help but feel amused by your blatant obliviousness. Your eyes went to where Cassian sat across from you with his eyes closed, kissing and smacking his lips, like he was making out with the air. Your eyebrows furrowed at the weirdness until he stopped and pointed at Azriel, then you. Nesta slapped him and he realized he had been caught. You were about to question his weird antics before a wing blocked your sight towards them.
You turned to where Azriel had gotten closer. He used his wing to make sure ALL of your attention was on him.“I have to go meet with Rhys soon. But when I get back, we need to talk.” He said sternly. His eyes were hardened and your face dropped. Did you do something wrong? He noticed the look and smiled softly to reassure you.
“Wait for me here?” He asked. And you nodded, still nervous. Your hands came together to fiddle awkwardly but Azriel’s hands laid on top of yours. He lifted your hands and kissed the top of both of them. You blushed at the intimacy. He lifted his head, and ran a hand through his hair.
He stood, still holding your hand with one of his. The room had gone quiet. Like it was just you and him. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You felt the heat and softness of his lips as they pressed to your head. Your bottom lip quivered as you looked shyly to the floor. What was happening? You didn’t even know anymore. Your body didn’t feel like it was yours anymore.
He stood and winked at you playfully before heading to the balcony and once again spreading those giant wings and shooting into the air. You sighed to yourself before realizing that Cassian and Nesta were both staring at you. Cassian sighed and looked to Nesta.
“I’ll bet you 80 gold coins-“ he started, but Nesta slapped a hand on his mouth so he couldn’t finish. She smiled at you before grabbing Cassian and leaving you alone in the room, deep in your thoughts.
Rhysand’s office was warmer then the rest of his house today. Azriel was filling him in on his recent mission. And to his distaste, that meant he had to be away from you. He didn't care that he’d be back within a few hours, he had already suffered during his mission. Being away from you- not being able to smell you on his clothes anymore, distressed him more then he cared to admit. He remembers worrying if you had ate, or if you forgot to eat again. His wings bristled at the memory. Upon coming back to you, he couldn't be bothered to care you had just got out of the bath. He thanked the Mother for blessing him with such good timing. You were so god damn beautiful, and if that towel had dropped- Azriel wouldn’t have left that room for a good fucking long while.
He had been too excited to even care that you were wet and only in a towel, he just had to hug you. But he didn't expect to feel his cock stiffen. He couldn’t help it, your body in his arms felt so good. You were so fucking pretty, it hurt. Azriel was embarrassed that he lost control of his own body. He planned on holding you for longer, but when your hand wrapped around his back, it brushed that sensitive part of his wing, sending a jolt to his dick. He had to rip away before you felt the growing hardness in his pants, and he felt so bad seeing your face of confusion. You hadn’t meant too. And you looked so hurt and you didn't even know what your had done. He cursed his body hating his lack of control, but didn't want you to think he was a creep so he left early to take care of himself.
“Az? Are you listening?”
Azriel snapped out of his thoughts and turned back to where his brother sat. Rhysand sighed and shook his head before repeating himself.
“I was asking if you could run to Velaris and pick up some medicine from Madja? Feyre has been having some headaches.”
Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed and he contemplated. Of course, he loved his high lady and didn’t want her to be in pain. But he wanted to get back to you fast. He needed your presence. Soon. Before he lost his mind. “Can’t you just winnow yourself? It’d be a lot faster then me having to fly.” He proposed.
Rhysand bristled slightly at Azriel’s slight coldness. He knew his brother, and knew he didn't mean it personally. Rhysand smirked. “Cassian warned me of this.”
“Warned you of what?” Azriel asked. ”He told me you get extremely pissy whenever you’ve been away from her for too long.” Rhysand spoke, with a knowing smile.
Azriel knew he was talking of you. His eyebrows furrowed and scowled at his brother before huffing. Before he could reply Rhys continued.
“It’s alright, we get it. Cas and I have both been through it with our mates.” Azriel didn’t respond this time. He shook his head with a slight growl. How come everyone could see his affection for you- but you? It was infuriating! He hoped maybe kissing your cheek would make you magically realize he had loved you, but it didn’t. Cauldron! How much more obvious does he need to make it?
Rhys dismissed him with his signature smirk, the all knowing bastard too smug for Azriel’s liking tonight.
Azriel wasn’t back yet. And the sun had already set, leaving it dark outside. You wondered what was taking him so long to tell Rhys of his mission. In reality you were more worried of what he wanted to talk about. You currently sat by the fireplace in your room, letting the heat warm your body. You had left the balcony doors open, assuming Azriel would fly through there.
You had two candles burning, and a book open in your hands. The sound of pitter patter against the marble floors distracted you from your book. You turned your head to the balcony doors and sighed, seeing it was raining. the water was getting on your floor. You grabbed a towel from the bathroom, and wiped the water from the floor. You closed the door to the balcony, but leaving it unlocked for him.
You turned around, noticing the flowers. You smiled joyfully. It was nice always having a pair of fresh flowers, thanks to Azriel.
“Pay more attention.”
You remembered Mor’s words. What were you suppose to pay attention to? You had already dissected every single memory you had of Azriel, but you coulnd’t find anything in your mind that was out of the ordinary. You sighed, rubbing your temples. Nothing made sense anymore. You ran a hand through your hair, stressed.
You looked around the room before your eyes found the flowers again. You remembered Azriel giving you a book that had the meanings flowers last Starfall. Your eyes snapped to the floating bookshelf Azriel has installed in your room two years ago. You quickly approached it, running your fingers across the titles until you found the right one. You pulled the book out, grazing the cover with your fingertips.
You sat by the fireplace, flipping through until you found the flowers you were looking for.
A whooshing sound came from your balcony, prompting you to close the book and stand, walking to your nightstand and laying it down. You turned to the door of the balcony, watching it open. Azriel stepped in, hair wet from rain. Water dripped from his body onto your floor. He wanted slightly eyes latching onto yours. He held a small pink box that he had managed to keep dry. You briefly wondered what it was until he started to walk towards you. Determination was in his eyes as he walked fast, in front of you within seconds. He licked his lips, looking at your eyes.
Everything froze, and it was just you and him. Standing there. His eyes were dilated and filled with affection now. You didn’t notice him setting the box on your nightstand, never breaking eye contact. His eyes flicked down to your lips, before looking back up. You felt the tension in the room. His eyes seemed to glow more tonight. Brighter than the fire.
You looked back to where the flowers were and then back back to him.
“Why did you give me pink bluebells and red chrysanthemums?” You asked, you voice barely above a whisper.
Azriel cocked his head to the side, studying you. His shadows whirl around, some coming to play with your hair. The tendrils swirl gently around you.
“Why do you think I gave them to you?” He responded. His voice was roughed, but gentle. You looked away to the floor and shrugged, feeling shy under his unwavering stare.
“Answer me.”
You felt a hand on your chin, turning your face back to his. His thumb rubbed mindlessly at your jaw.
“I don’t know..” You replied. He was closer now, you could feel his breath against your face. It was minty and fresh.
“Fucking hell y/n.” He groaned, grabbing your hips and gently pushing you to sit on the edge of the bed. He dropped to his knees in front of you, head bowed. He looked as if he was saying a prayer, his head bowed in your lap. His wings were draped across the floor, and he was muttering something to himself. He held your knees, and when he looked back up to you his eyes were teary.
“Azriel-“ you started, only for him to cut you off.
“What am I doing wrong? Have I not made it painfully clear? I would tie my wings behind my back and jump off this roof if you asked me too. I would do anything,” He sniffled, “anything for you. But you don’t even realize. What am I doing wrong?” You saw tears beginning to form in his eyes. Confusion filled every ounce of your soul. What did he mean?
“I would jump off for you too-“
“No! You don’t get it!” He rose, cupping your face with his hands. A pleading look was in his eyes. “Look at me! Don’t you feel it? Don’t you feel it here?” His hand came to lay where your heart would be. Your felt it beating crazily. What did he mean?
Azriel closed his eyes, sending a silent prayer to the mother. He opened them again.
“Just notice it y/n. Notice it- Notice me. Please..” he whispered. You wanted to scream you loved him suddenly, but he probably doesn’t mean this like that. This is probably some dumb prank he and his brothers came up with again.
His forehead rested against yours now, and you gasped as you felt something tugging on your heart. Like gold threads weaving together. It felt as if someone had tied Azriel to you. Shadows whirled crazily around you both now. Your hand came to rest over his trying to decipher this feeling in your heart. His eyes peered into yours. And he closed them as he moved his head and pressed a small kiss to your forehead.
“I love you, even if you don’t return it.” He croaked, defeatedly. His eyes opened and watched you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at your chest and then back to him.
He let out a grunt of surprise when you smashed your lips against his. Azriel wondered if this was real. Staying still, as if not to scare you away. When he realized it was real- and you were kissing him he melted. He kissed you back gently and meaningful. It was everything you had ever wanted you realized. Why hadn’t you noticed sooner? You could’ve been kissing this muscly man a lot sooner. Only did you detach yourself when you needed air. Both of your foreheads touched, and you both panted for air.
“Mate.” You whispered to him. He smiled, thanking the mother you had finally felt the bond. He nodded in response.
“Mate.” He replied. He nudged you back against the sheets, gently letting your body plop on the bed.
“But I have loved you long before I found out we were mates.” He muttered, his wings flaring slightly. He climbed on top of you, straddling your hips.
You nodded. “I loved you too- but I just thought that, I wasn’t the girl you’d ever wanna be with.”
“I’ve fucking craved you ever since I met you. And that won’t stop, ever. I swear, you’re the most oblivious girl I’ve ever met.” He said. His eyes weren’t wet anymore. It calmed you, seeing him calmer. The shadows were slowly and lazily playing with your hair again. You peered into Azriel’s eyes and thought back to every single memory you and him had, and realized it was all love. You were too oblivious to realize it. He slowly leaned down and brushed his lips against yours, wings covering you both. You kissed him back with a fever you couldn’t stop anymore.
After a few minutes, he crawled off of you and stood. You rose, propping yourself up. He handed you the pink box.
“I stopped by your favorite bakery and got you a cupcake.” Azriel spoke. The cupcake inside was big- almost two times bigger then your hand. And it was your favorite flavor. Your eyes softened at the kindness. You looked back up to him as you lifted the cupcake towards him.
“Eat Azriel.” You whispered. His eyes darkened upon realizing you wanted to solidify the mating bond- and confirm it. He shivered but stopped himself.
“You sure you don’t want a mating ceremony-“
“Eat the fucking cupcake Azriel.”
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