#azriel fanfiction
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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#malice series
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Returning Home
Azriel x Fem!reader (or GN reader)
Summary: Azriel comes back from a long and slightly traumatic mission bloodied and filthy, so you give him a bath.
Warnings: fluff, blood, nudity but its not sexual, Az and reader are mated, reader caring for Azriel, not proofread,
Word Count: 2.6k (I’m sorry)
A/N: Whatisupyouguys I’m back with another disgustingly sweet fluffy Azriel fic for you. I’m a slut for caring for this poor man, so that is what you will receive. School has been kicking my ass but I was able to pop this sucker out and am working on more Az fics, some of them spicy, even. Also, if you have any ideas for fics and you’d like to share, I’m all ears. I am pretty busy with school but summer is approaching and I plan on writing a ton. Even though this is fluff, minors please gtfo. Enjoy!
You were awoken from your slumber when you heard the back door slam. It was one AM. Why was your door slamming at one AM? That is what you asked yourself, and you could not come up with a good reason. So, you silently slipped from the warm caress of your blankets into the chilled air of your bedroom, pulling on your robe and grabbing the bat Azriel liked to keep next to your bedside table as you tiptoed out of your room.
You made your way down the hallway towards the source of the noise, the bat held high above your shoulder. You didn't think the intruder was dangerous, but it's better to be safe than sorry. As you silently made your way towards the original source of noise, you heard off to your left a shuffling of feet. You pivoted, slinking your way now towards the kitchen.
You drew the bat back, gearing up to swing, and hurtled yourself through the kitchen. But you came to a screeching halt when you saw your mate, Azriel, leaning over the kitchen counter, still as a statue, not even looking up to acknowledge your presence. He was covered in blood and grime, his leathers were muddied and damp, his shadows frantically swirling around him.
He had been on a mission, this you had known. He had told you this one might take a while. He had told you that two weeks ago. You had not expected him here, back home, at this hour, covered in gods knew what. It took you by surprise, his presence, but also the state he was in. He looked half dead, drained and pale and haggard. You dropped the bat.
The noise caught his attention. He raised his head, although it looked like it took effort, and locked eyes with you. Those hazel depths you loved so much now looked dull and dark. You moved towards him, your bare feet clicking on the polished wood beneath.
“Az?” you asked quietly, not wanting to startle him further. He pushed up from the counter, standing, but not to his full height. He was slouching in on himself, his wings almost dragging on the ground. He looked so tired.
You caressed his cheek in your hand, wanting to feel him. His shadows embraced you, but remained frantically swirling. You had missed him so much, it had almost torn you in two. And now he was here, in front of you, back to where he should be. But somehow it felt as though you had only gotten his body back, his mind still somewhere else. You tugged on the bond, hoping to get a reaction, recognition, something out of him. A small pull on the shadowy thread connecting you two was all you received.
“You’re home,” you breathed, “I’m so glad you’re home.” Both of your hands were now caressing his face, which was prickly from weeks of not shaving. He was staring back at you, but his eyes were vacant, barely any recognition that you were standing in front of him. It made your chest ache. You distracted yourself by looking over him, checking for injuries or any signs of distress. You found none, but you would have to get his leathers off to be completely sure.
“Azriel,” you grabbed his face and locked eyes with him, “You need a bath, okay? I’m going to give you one. Nod your head if you understand.” It was almost imperceptible, his nod, but you felt it, and that was enough. You took his hand in yours and led him towards the bathing chamber, which was just off to the left of your shared bedroom.
You stripped off your robe and hung it on the door, then turned to the massive tub and turned the water on. While you waited for it to fill, you turned your attention back to your mate. “I’m going to take your leathers off, okay?” He nodded, and it was visible this time. You took that as a good sign.
You began with his top, unbuckling and unbuttoning until his chest was bare. You looked over him once again, checking for injuries. You noticed some slight bruising on his ribs and a healing slash on his right bicep, but nothing extreme. You weren’t happy about him being injured, but he would live, which meant so would you. His wings didn’t look injured much, either, but they were covered in mud and splattered with blood. Gods, what had happened to him?
You checked on the state of the tub, adjusting the temperature and adding some rose oil into the water. The water level was almost to where you wanted it to be. Once again you turned your attention towards Azriel, this time to his bottom half. You pulled at the laces of his pants, loosening them enough to slide them down his legs. He lifted his legs, one at a time, so you could pull the material off. You also took this as a good sign.
You didn’t know what had happened on his mission to make him borderline catatonic, but you would do everything in your power to help get him back to his usual self. His shadows had calmed down a bit, now swirling slowly around the both of you, the frenzied movements gone. You looked towards the tub, the water at the perfect level, so you turned the faucet off. You tugged your nightgown over your head, then slid your panties off, joining Azriel in his nakedness.
You pulled him towards the tub, urging him to climb in. He did as instructed, sliding down into the water and pulling his knees up to his chest. You climbed in after him, sinking down into the steamy water so that you were kneeling in front of him. You grabbed the spong and lathered soap onto it, then got to work.
You grabbed one of his arms, pulling it out towards you, and started scrubbing the grime off his tattooed skin. “I made blueberry muffins while you were away,” you informed him, trying to distract him from whatever he was thinking about and pull him back to you. “I know they’re your favorite, but don’t get too excited. I ate them all. But I’ll make more tomorrow, okay?” his eyes were on your hands, where you were scrubbing his arm, but he nodded in recognition.
You moved on to his other arm, repeating the ministrations you had just done. Wanting to distract him further, you said: “Last week I went to Rita’s with Mor, Cassian, Nesta, and Feyre, and Cass got so drunk that by the end of the night he was telling Nesta he was mated and couldn’t go home with her. She hasn’t let him live it down since.” You smirked at the memory. Azriel looked slightly more relaxed, the corner of his lips almost lifted. Almost.
His arms were clean, so you moved on to his legs. They were less dirty compared to his arms, having been soaking for a while longer, but still needed scrubbing. You picked his left leg up by the ankle, raising and extending it so that it was just below the water, and began scrubbing. You wracked your brain for more stories to tell him, but you could not come up with any. So you stayed quiet.
Azriel so rarely let you take care of him. He always focused on you and your needs. And although the circumstances were not the best, you enjoyed being able to care for your mate in this way. You just prayed to the Mother your care would be enough to bring him out of the headspace he was in.
You finished cleaning his legs, which left his torso, back, and wings to scrub. Wanting to save his wings for last, you opted for his torso first. Azriel had pulled his knees back up to his chest, but you needed them down in order to properly wash him. So you grabbed his legs again, laying them flat, and when he resisted, you spoke down the bond, “I need your legs flat so I can clean your chest, okay?” He stopped resisting, letting you do what you needed to do. You lathered more soap onto the sponge, then scooched closer to him. You could feel his eyes on your face, and with it could feel him coming back to himself. You almost sighed in relief.
Bringing the sponge to his neck, you started scrubbing in small circles over his skin. You brought your free hand to his shoulder to lean him back, putting him at a better angle for you to see where you needed to scrub a little harder. Azriel brought his hands up to your hips, not grabbing them, just placing them on you. The action startled you slightly, just because you weren't expecting it. But once the shock went away, you leaned into his touch, the action as grounding for him as it was for you, and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
You continued your ministries on his chest, slowly but surely making progress. When you were halfway down his torso you felt an immense wave of gratitude and love pouring down the bond at you. You couldn’t help but smile, pouring your own love and reassurance down the bond towards him. Finally all that was left was his back and wings. The bathwater was still warm, but you could feel it cooling down. And you wanted to get Azriel clean before the water got cold.
You put the sponge down and laid your hands on top of where he rested his on your hips. “Your wings need washing, they’re covered in quite a bit of blood and dirt. Do you want to clean them, or do you want me to?” you asked gently. He looked up at you, hazel eyes clashing with yours.
“Could you…” his voice was thick, and hoarse, so he cleared it. “Could you do it?” he asked quietly.
“Of course, my love.” you replied, rubbing your hands over his in reassurance. He turned around, giving his back to you, and once again brought his knees up to his chest. You tried not to think about it too hard, the fact that Azriel, the gods damned Shadowsinger of the Night Court, an Illarian fucking warrior, was drawing his knees to his chest, slouching in on himself, making himself smaller due to the memories wreaking havoc in his mind. You wanted to know what happened, shoulder some of the burden for him, sooth his mind from these memories. But it was unlikely he would tell you anything tonight.
You picked the sponge back up, added more soap to it, and began scrubbing his back. You started on his upper back, gliding the sponge over his tattooed skin. Running the sponge down between his wings drew out a long sigh from Azriel. Wanting to save his wings for last, you then focused on his lower back, gliding your free hand along with the sponge, wanting to make sure you were getting all the grime off him as well as comfort him with your touch.
Finally, all that was left were his wings. You started at the base of them, working your way up and over the dark, scarred membranes. Azriel extended each one while you worked, following your movements and positioning them so that you didn’t have to. You glided the sponge firmly along the patagium of each wing, working quickly to clean the grime off. You had learned over the years that this was the best and most efficient way. There was no way to avoid the sensitivity of the wings and what they elicited, but working swiftly, as well as using something other than your hand, seemed to ease some of the tension that would inevitably build up when it came to touching wings.
You looked over his back and wings one more time, checking for spots you might have missed, but found none. So, you put the sponge down and turned your attention to the person, rather than the body, in front of you. You placed your hands on his shoulders and scooched closer to him, so that your front was pressed up against his back. And then you slid your arms around his front, embracing him from behind.
You stayed like that until the water went cold, the only sounds filling the room were your synchronized breathing. Azriel broke the silence first. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for taking care of me. I don’t deserve you.” You tightened your embrace in response.
“I’m going to go get the bed warmed while you dry off, alright?” you said over his shoulder. He nodded, and adamant nod, a nod you knew was going to be the last nod you received before he picked back up answering with words.
You unwrapped yourself from your mate and climbed out of the tub, grabbing a towel on your way back into your room. You quickly wrapped the towel around you then got to work warming the bed. You also lit the fireplace, both for added warmth but also in hopes it would help Az sleep better. And just as you were getting done adding enough wood to the fire to last the night, Az walked out of the bathing room, a towel wrapped around his waist.
Besides looking clean, he looked much more himself now. His shadows had traveled out to the corners of the room, seeking darkness away from the fireplace. You hoped they didn’t mind much. You got up from your place before the fire and walked towards him. He embraced you this time, pulling his strong arms around your body, holding you to him.
“I love you so much it hurts sometimes,” he said, barely above a whisper, “I’ll tell you about it tomorrow, but I’d like to cuddle with my mate now, if that's okay.” It was your turn to nod. You pulled away slightly, looking up into his eyes. You could live with him telling you what had happened tomorrow. And for now, you kissed him, gentle and slow, pouring as much comfort and love as you could down the bond. And he kissed you back like he was a dying man and your kiss was his lifeline. You supposed, in a way, it was.
You broke the kiss, shed each other of your towels, and tumbled into bed, holding one another like death was the alternative.
“Thank you,” Azriel whispered to you.
“You’re welcome, my love,” you replied. And you fell asleep, tangled together in an embrace.
#acotar#acotar fic#azriel fanfiction#azriel fluff#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x reader#fanfiction#comfort#night court#velaris#fem reader
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Tight Enough
Azriel x Reader
Word count: 1.6k
Synopsis: Reader needs help tightening her corset and no one's around to help but Azriel.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Shit,” you breathed, pulling at the laces awkwardly around your waist, trying and failing to tighten your corset. You shifted them around your shoulders, hoping it’d provide sufficient pulleying. You bowed forward, yanking.
Still not enough.
You huffed. You’d been at this for upwards of twenty minutes, hauling and tugging in all kinds of positions til your hands shook.
For all the gentlemanliness and compassion in Rhys and Cassian, you entirely refused to ask mated men to assist you.
Tying the laces onto the doorknob, you tried letting your body fall in the opposite direction. Your feet slid against the tile as you pivoted, nearly tripping. “Shit.”
This was so fucked.
A gentle knock on the door startled you. “Y/N?”
Azriel.
Fuck.
You scrambled to untie the laces from the doorknob. “Yes?”
“Cass and Rhys stepped out for a bit. Are you alright?”
Fuck.
You scrubbed at your face. This was the outcome you’d been avoiding above all. Worse than the mated men. Mated my ass. You should’ve bit your tongue and asked Cass for help.
“Y/N?” he asked again at your silence.
“Sorry,” you breathed, heart racing.
You cracked open the bathroom door, peering up at him. He searched your eyes patiently as you searched for your courage. “I can’t get my corset on,” you admitted quietly.
A muscle ticked in his jaw, eyes marginally widening.
You shook your head. “It’s fine,” you said quickly, voice tight. “I’ll just—I’ll try—”
“I can help,” he offered softly.
You looked up at him again, eyes pleading. Turn him down. “I—” you swallowed. Turn him down. A glance at the wall behind him with a clock revealed you were even later than you thought. Turn him down. You bit your lip and steeled your spine. Fuck. You were really doing this. “Okay,” you whispered, like you could hide the admission from even yourself.
He gave a slight nod of encouragement, stepping aside to let you come out.
“I—let me—one second,” you stammered, closing the door.
You were still undressed.
Right.
Another huff of indignation as you yanked on a slip to cover your bare legs. This was fine, right? It was just help he was offering. Necessary help.
You took a steadying breath and walked out of the bathroom.
Azriel had moved to stand near the fireplace, watching it with his back to you, like it would offer you privacy. He could surely see your panicked mortification.
You padded to him, placing a hand softly on his elbow to let him know you were ready.
He turned, face carefully neutral as he took in the sight of you.
Where corsets were typically worn over shifts, this one was fashioned to sit directly upon your skin. So you stood before Azriel, flushed cheeks and fidgeting fingers in just your corset and a skirt.
Azriel focused his gaze strictly on your face, didn’t dare let it fall to where the flesh of your breasts generously spilled over the delicate lace trim adorning the hem. Didn’t allow a glance at the thin shift mercifully—barely—covering your legs.
He’d never seen you so undressed.
You shifted your weight between feet beneath his hefty gaze. “Usually, Nuala or Ceridwen or Mor help me,” your voice was still tight. “I’ve never had to do it by myself.”
Azriel nodded. Your skin had a slight sheen to it in the light of the fire. A few pieces of hair had fallen out of your intricate upswept style, curling at the nape of your neck. Azriel might have bitten back a laugh at the endearing sight, at the physical evidence of your struggle—had you not struck him dumb with how beautiful you looked.
How you allowed him to bear witness to your exposed skin, to this intimacy.
He was no stranger to corsets—hell, he’d taken women wearing lingerie that made your attire look like a priestess’s robe, and yet—
He shook his head. This was just help. No matter how lovely you were.
He cleared his throat. He needed you to turn. “Would you—” He twisted a finger in the air, unsure how to ask.
“Oh,” you breathed, still donning that pretty blush on your cheeks. You took another step toward him, turning at last.
With the absence of your imploring gaze—one he’d scarcely forget—Azriel exhaled, allowed himself an assessing glimpse down your form presented before him. He bit back a curse. The laces across the length of the corset were haphazardly pulled. He wondered how Rhys overlooked something like this that clearly required assistance. The spaces between the undone laces revealed your bare back, curving all the way down to the slip resting on your backside.
He didn’t know how to begin touching you.
“Az?” you asked, voice still thin, your nervousness anything but subtle. But you’d been comfortable enough to ask him for help, and that made his heart soar.
“Sorry,” he cleared his throat again. Raised his hands hesitantly; a silent deep breath, and he began.
He carefully pulled at the laces starting from the top of your corset, loosening them to correctly adjust their security. Azriel keenly tried his best to pick up each lace without touching your skin. Tried not to consider how creamy it felt when he did graze skin, how warm and perfect. When he’d finished working his way down, he began tugging at the string to tighten it properly.
At the first firm tug, you gasped, stumbling backwards into him. “Oh,” you stepped away hastily. You’d landed directly onto his abdomen, trapping his hands between your bodies. Your own hands had landed on his thighs, bracing yourself. “I’m sorry, Azriel.”
“It’s alright.” Azriel tried not to think about how your softness felt. “It’s my fault.” He couldn’t recall the last time he’d helped a female with her corset.
You looked at him over your shoulder, doing funny things to his heart again with your eyes. “We need a bedpost.” There was sheepish mirth lighting your eyes, displacing the anxiety from before. He managed a reassuring smile back and nodded.
You walked to Cassian’s bed in the inn room you were sharing, gripping the post for stability. Azriel dutifully returned to your back, and you tried not to think about how the warmth from his body radiated so easily into yours from your proximity. How careful he was being with his hands, doing everything to make you more comfortable.
He yanked gently in warning. When you remained sturdily in your spot, his pulling grew stronger, working his way down. When he neared the base of your spine, he began tying the lace. Your hands moved to your waist, feeling snug but not quite as tight-laced as you’d wanted.
You turned to peer at him over your shoulder again. He met your eye in question. “Um, I was hoping to wear it a little tighter,” you admitted.
“Tighter than this?” His brows rose.
You nodded.
He undid the knot, pulling the laces tighter as per your request, waiting for approval.
Once again, you caressed your waist, pushing the corset to feel its give.
“Is it tight enough?” he asked, voice gravely.
“Can I have one more inch?” you asked, and he internally composed himself.
“I don’t know if it would work,” he said.
“Here,” you released your waist, reaching behind, wiggling your fingers for his hands. Azriel extended his hands to hover on either side of your waist, allowing you to guide them on your waist. You pushed onto his hands, making him squeeze your waist. “Can you hold it there?” you asked.
Azriel swallowed, holding your waist tightly, pressing the corset tighter to your body as you reached behind, pulling the untied lace. He tracked your every move, every careful twist of your fingers, how your arms brushed against his hands. Your hands worked dangerously close to his body as you worked to secure the ties at last.
When you finished, he regretfully released you, allowing you to turn, standing between him and the bedpost. He braced himself for the onslaught of your stare, the way he knew you’d look up at him.
Where there’d previously been jittery nervousness, there was something in your eyes now that set his nervousness off. A sense of open depth that swallowed him whole as you took him in. “Thank you,” you breathed. A small smile tugged your lips up.
He wanted to admit something stupidly vulnerable, like thank you for trusting me. So instead, he took a step back, ducked his head, and said, “You’re welcome.”
That pretty, trustful look returned to your eyes, a look he’d do anything to keep others from seeing. “Maybe you can help me zip up my dress too?” Your playful glint had him smiling back.
“Of course.”
You hurried to the bathroom and rustled for a bit before returning to him with the top half of a floor-length, black evening gown hanging off your torso. You stood before him, more confidently than before, and Azriel took his time zipping it up, tucking away the corset. Tucking away the knowledge, the memory of it. It was all his to cherish.
As you put your heels on, a knock sounded on the door. Azriel opened it to find Rhys and Cassian conveniently ready to go, all smug smirks.
“Sorry for making us late,” you said, rushing up behind Azriel. “I had a hard time getting dressed.” Azriel stepped aside, allowing you to exit, taking Cassian’s arm.
Rhys mockingly tsked. “Sorry to hear that. How’d you manage?”
“Azriel helped,” you said over your shoulder.
“Well, thank goodness for Azriel,” Rhys winked at him.
Azriel stood stunned, staring in disbelief at Rhys until you looked back at him blushing, a shy smile knocking the breath from his lungs.
“Yes. Thank goodness for Azriel.”
~
taglist:
@iimisty-a @feyretopia @riddlesb1tch @cullenswifezz222 @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @lilah-asteria
(lmk if your urls changed, sorry some of them don't work!)
#azriel x reader#azriel fanfiction#azriel/reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel#azriel spymaster#acotar#acotar fanfiction#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#azrielhours#azriel fluff
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“What Are You Doing?”
“I… Was Told There Was an Emergency...”
AzrielxReader
<3
Warnings: none other than the lack of proof reading :p
Word count: 5.5k
(meant to be a blurb lol ig idk how to do that)
Summary: Azriel’s shadows have decided that they found someone far more interesting to listen to.
Thank you @kayjayjwrites for this ask, I’ve had a lot of fun writing it. Sorry it came a little later than I said it would but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.
<3
A yawn escaped Azriel as he stared down the papers on his desk. He was behind, three missions he put off documenting. He honestly wouldn’t have done it if Rhys wasn’t hounding him saying he wasn’t getting another job until he was caught up.
He didn’t hate his job, he didn’t particularly love it but he took pride in what he did for his court. What he did hate was the bureaucratic end of things, logging his missions in excruciating detail so they can be stored away on the off chance it might need revisited.
He had caught himself nodding off multiple times. The words would blur and his blinks would get slower and slower until his head hit the desk. His shadows, the pestering presence they were, were quick to wake him up.
Finish, finish this,
Keep working,
Sleep after.
At this point it was sheer frustration keeping him awake, weren’t his shadows meant to bend towards his will? The thought of snuffing out the fae light and climbing into bed with his hands over his ears was becoming more and more enticing as the night droned on. Azriels eyes began to close for the umpteenth time and just when he thought his shadows would give up they began swirling around him frantically. He almost groaned at their dramatics until their whispering bordered screaming.
Get up,
Quickly,
Y/n needs you,
Hurry, hurry.
The shadows all spoke over each other and their urgency had Azriel standing up so quick his chair hit the floor. His heart moved as frantically as his shadows at the thought of you. The thought of you hurt, the thought of you in danger, the thought of you scared and alone and needing him.
His feet matched the frenzy as they carried him to the shelf that held the truth teller, his shaking hands sheathed it. Azriel was a composed man, only cracking under severity; and you… you were severe. You had a way of moving him out of his dark safe corner and into the blinding light of day.
Your eyes could move him to tears, your body would make his hands shake, your laugh kicked open every door he used to keep others out. You were a parasite; infecting every part of him and making it your own.
Azriel was ready to punch a hole through his wall and fly around Prythian raining hellfire until he found you and made you safe again. Where? He thought, where is she?
Her house, his shadows answered dutifully before enveloping him and carrying him there. He was ready, ready to fight off whoever-whatever- was hurting you. Whether the demons were mental or corporeal, he would fight to his last breath. You were everything, everything he wanted, needed, everything he prayed for. You just didn’t know it yet, it hadn’t snapped for you. He didn’t care though, he would spend the next 500 years proving his devotion even if you never felt it.
Within seconds his shadows had carried him through space, into your living room. The scent of you was everywhere, gentle overtaking his olfactory sense and filling him with fierce determination.
“Y/n!” The called out as he surveyed the room, everything looked normal, well, for you. Granted things were strewn about, out of order, and placed haphazardly; but not in a way that was alarming.
“Y/n,” he called again and was met with silence, he moved through your house swiftly and silently. He kept his eyes peeled for any sign of you.
Bedroom, his shadows told him. At the end of the hall he pushed open the lightly cracked door and slipped into your room. The room held no sight of you, just thick with your scent. The only noise was light shuffling from your adjourned bathroom. He took a silent step towards the door and in that moment you came out. He froze.
You were fine, you were more than fine. His wide eyes met yours and he tried his best to keep them there but they seemed to have a mind of their own. They trailed to your wet hair that was dripping onto your shoulders. His pesky eyes followed the water from your bare shoulder, to the contour of your breast, to your exposed tummy, around its pretty jewelry, down your hips, before disappearing behind your thighs. Your shocked expression matched his as you stood in only a bra and underwear, clearly fresh out of the shower. He felt the heat climb his face, he wanted to run, hide, avoid any implications. But for some unholy reason he stood, petrified, staring at you half naked-absolutely divine- body.
“What are you doing?” You asked once you finally got over the initial shock of seeing him in your room. Anyone else would’ve gotten a more visceral reaction but this was Az, the only one you wanted to see you like this. You also didn’t mind the way his eyes tracked every curve and dip of your body. You bit your lip to hide your smirk and that snapped his eyes back to your face.
“I… was told there was an emergency…” he shifted on his feet as his eyes darted back and forth from your body to your face.
You bit back your laugh, the feared shadowsinger, spymaster of the night was red faced and nervous. Definitely a sight to behold. “Who told you that?” You crossed your arms under your chest, lightly pushing up the twins. Something he didn’t miss, and you didn’t miss the deeper red his face took. His mouth opened and closed like a fish and he seemed to have lost whatever small grip was keeping his shadows in place. They slithered across the floor before circling up your legs, over your bum, around your hips and waist. You giggled at the sensation, seemingly exciting by the shadows as they made their way up, examining the lace that covered your breast. Their boldness elicited a gasp, one that snapped Azriel out of his trance.
“I am so sorry- I don’t- I should go,” his words were quick as he fumbled over himself. He dragged the shadows away and before you could speak, tell him to stay, he was gone and so were his shadows.
You couldn’t help but laugh, a full belly laugh as you walked towards your bed with a little extra pep. The only proof of the encounter being the goosebumps on your skin and the light smell of his arousal in your room.
Azriel materialized in his room and stood there for- he doesn’t know how long he stood there. Trying to come to terms with what he saw, what you saw he saw, and how horrible his shadows had behaved. “What… was that?” He whispered into the darkness of his room, still frozen in place. He was horrified, completely embarrassed, and confused. His shadows said you needed him, led him there for seemingly no reason. His shadows hadn’t defied him since he was a child, scared of his own power.
The shadows didn’t answer him, just danced around seemingly pleased with themselves. He wanted to go back and apologize but he was too mortified, convinced he wouldn’t be able to face you for a hundred years. He crawled under his covers and cursed his shadows, not even brave enough to deal with the tightness that grew in his pants.
-
It was hot, Velaris was seemingly boiling. That didn’t slow down the Illyrians, rain or shine they would train. Azriel had taken off his shirt and the sweat flowed through the contours of his muscles, covering his body in a sticky dew. He had just finished sparring with Cass and was wiping the sweat from his brow when his shadows spoke.
Emergency,
Something’s wrong at the south pond,
Get there quickly,
“Cass!” He hollered to his brother, as he grabbed a two swords. He threw one to Cass who caught it coolly. “We’re needed,”. Was all he offered before taking to the skies. Cass followed closely behind as they swooped from the house of wind towards the small forest that was on the south side of Velaris. The boys were already warmed up, ready to face whatever emergency faced them. They circled the sky around the pond and didn’t see any immediate threat, it just looked like some fae had met up for a swim.
Cass landed first and Azriel was right behind him. They surveyed the scene and just as they saw in the sky; nothing was wrong. The only thing they saw were females, everywhere.
“Alright brother,” Cass clapped Azriel on the back with a shit-eating grin. “Not what I expected but you’re right, they do need us.” He tossed his sword on the ground and started making his way to the bank, at least three females came to greet him; he engaged happily.
Azriel wasn’t yet convinced. Still dragging his eyes all across the domain, trying to spot what called his shadows here. His keen eyes took in everything, every person, until they landed on you.
Walking out of the water you looked like a fae from those raunchy magazines Cass used to steal as a boy. An all too small bikini clung to your wet body as you made your way out of the water, toward him. Three tiny pink triangles covered the important parts but the rest was just string, leaving nearly your whole body one display. He watched your hips sway, your wet hair clinging to your face and shoulders, the glittering belly ring, and the small smirk on your face as you too looked him up and down.
“You’re not going to use that are you?” You stopped in front of him, referencing to the sword he gripped with all his strength. He watched as you flipped your hair to one side and began ringing it out. The urge to kiss the sensitive spot between your neck was so intense his lips were quivering.
“No I…” he once again was at a loss for words, “I just brought it.” Lame. He was so lame he wanted to die.
You just giggled, the sound like a cool wave over his hot body. You reached over and gently wrapped your hands around his, pulling it from his hands and discarding it with Cassian’s. His eyes were trained on your face the entire time, you weren’t put off by his scars. Your face wasn’t marred with disgust or pity, just blissful normalcy.
You smiled up at him, “Are you going to join us?” He just nodded, not even considering no as an option. Cass already discarded his pants and boots and was loudly entertaining most of the ladies. But Azriels eyes were trained on your back… side, as he followed you to the water like a puppy. It wasn’t until his shoes were sopping wet at the bank that he realized he should probably strip as well.
When he was down to only his boxers and he tossed his pants and boots back to safety. The way you shamelessly admired him gave him his confidence back.
The two of you spent hours, swimming circles around each other, splashing, pushing the other under. He would lift you high out of the water so you could do flips back in. He would put you on his shoulders so you could take turns playing chicken with whatever female climbed onto his brother; he was proud to say you won every time. He followed you all the way to the deep end and despite his distaste for swimming he didn’t want to be anywhere else in the world as you clung to him, telling stories of your childhood in this exact watering hole. He could’ve stayed in the water forever, content to grow wrinkles all over if it meant you would stay close to him.
When the sun had threatened to leave the sky was when you had decided to get out. Your friends were going to a diner to finish of the night with milkshakes and gossip, you offered and invitation and despite being willing to follow you wherever you asked he had to decline. Rhys had tried to contact him multiple times, all of which he ignored. Based on the aggravated tone, Cass was doing the same. He knew staying away any longer would only cause an angry high lord scaling the streets in search of them.
Cass begrudgingly followed his lead, after kissing more than an appropriate amount of females on the cheek, bidding them all goodnight with the promise of seeing them again.
The boys flew home, landing in front of the town house. Before facing the wrath of their in the dark brother Cassian stopped in front of Azriel and grabbed both of his shoulders. With a wide smile he leaned in and placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek, before he could react Cass had kissed the other one.
“I love you brother,” he said with so much sincerity Az rolled his eyes. “I’ll handle business with you any day,” Cass pulled him into a bone crushing hug that Azriel had to use all of his force to get out of. He wiped the wet spots on his cheeks before shaking his head. He pushed past his babbling brother and made his way to the front door. Cass walked in with an arrogant swagger, one that stayed with him for the next week and a half.
-
The frustration didn’t show on Azriels face, nothing showed on Azriels face, as he trailed diligently behind Mor. Yet another shopping spree he was dragged into with the role of being ‘designated bag carrier.’ He never complained even though he’d rather be doing anything else right now, he didn’t show it. Even though he knew Mor knew that, and even though Mor knew that he knew that she knew that.
“Thank you again Azriel, I swear I’m almost done.” He nodded along, knowing that she was almost done 2 hours ago.
It seemed everyone in the city was out shopping, the streets of the retail sector were jam packed. It was likely that most people were, with a new season approaching all of the soon to be out-of-season styles were on sale. Something that motivated Mor, giving her a much needed excuse for retail therapy.
Azriel kept his wings tucked in tight as he shimmied through bodies crowding the cobble stone. “Okay so we’ll stop at Loraine’s, she has the best Jewelry. Then we’ll have to hit up that new little boutique, hopefully all of the good shoes aren’t gone already. Oh! And we absolutely have to visit Anderson on the end of the block, he’ll kill me if I don’t come check out his sun dresses. He always holds the red ones back for me. Honestly my closet…” Mor continued to ramble on about each and every store that demanded she visit but Azriel tuned it out. Leaving behind the notion of soon as the math of how long he would be out continued to produce a higher and higher number.
Without trying to think about it, he followed Mor into the little jewelry shop that she just spoke about. The shelves were covered in glittering jewels that sat on display behind glass. Nothing caught his interest, he didn’t care for flashy add ons, so he just made his way to one of the plush chairs in the corner. He set the plethora of bags down as he slunk back, enjoying a moment of rest as he knew Mor would be taking her time. His eyes closed but his reaction was short lived when his shadows began of informing him of a situation.
Across the street,
Someone’s not supposed to be here,
Go quickly.
He cracked an eye open and glanced out the window. The streets looked normal enough and he couldn’t hear any commotion over the bustling. Someone’s not supposed to be here? He would have been notified earlier if anyone got through the Velarian wards. He should’ve been notified earlier. He stood up slowly, assessing the street. Just because everything looked normal doesn’t mean it was.
He abandoned Mor’s bags and moved towards the door, when he pushed it open he never stepped out. Instead a shadow slipped across the ground, going unnoticed on the busy street.
He slid under the crack of the door and after clocking his surroundings he determined he was in a woman’s nightwear store. There were night gowns and matching pj’s covering mannequins and racks in the front.
Back,
Behind the curtain.
His shadows informed him of the intruders location and he slid in the corner where the wall met the floor, making his way to the back. The store was relatively empty, only a few patrons; a couple, an older fae, and a young male that looked at the stock like a critic.
Slipping behind the curtain that separated the front from the back he was faced with three small dressing rooms. He materialized and placed his hand on the truth teller that rested on his upper thigh. It was quiet back here, the only shuffling came from one of the dressing rooms. He heard a click and a voice; your voice.
“Mav!” You called out as you stepped out of one of the rooms. He moved, trying to run, trying to get out of there. Realization of the stunt his shadows had once again pulled, dawned on him but it was too late.
“Az?” You questioned. The nickname had him stopping before he could escape sight. His heart beat like a war dum against his chest and he felt his hand dampen on the curtain he was holding. For a moment he contemplated winnowing away, saving the embarrassment for another day.
His turn was slow and painful, when his back was against the curtain he looked down and regretted not running. You were clad in a lace nightgown that barley covered the curve of your bottom. The top was push up, covered in shined lace while the bottom was layers of baby pink sheer material. If he looked closely he could see the diamond jewelry on your belly button and your matching shiney underwear shining through. He attempted to swallow the lump that was sitting in the middle of his throat but it didn’t budge so all he managed was a straggled gasp.
A devilish smirk, the one that tempted his knees, took control of your lips. You leaned against the stall, popping your hip out with a hand resting lazily on top. You tilted your head and looked him up and down, “Don’t tell me there’s another emergency.”
His eyes almost jumped out of his head and pink brushed from his neck, to his ears, and all across his face. You knew, of course you knew, you were the one he was barging in on. He tried to speak but that was impossible, seeing you in something so intimate, something he’d only dreamed of seeing you in, he could only shake his head back and forth.
“Okay so I also found that in this pretty blue-oh!” The young male from earlier had pushed through the curtain and was standing rigid as he looked between you and Az. He was only stuck for a few seconds before a smile that matched yours in mischief graced his face. “What do you think shadowsinger?”
His sultry voice took Azriel back, and the heat in his face doubled, “I- it’s,” he cleared his throat as he looked at the tiny blue dress. Cobalt blue, it was the same hue of his siphons. The thought of seeing you in that…
“It’s beautiful,” you finished for him. You pushed off the stall and moseyed over, closer to Az’s still frozen stature. “I absolutely love this color!” You took the thin fabric in delicate hands, feeling the material. “I’ll put it on,” you took the small thing from your friend before looking Az directly in the eye. You just smiled before walking back into the changing closet.
Azriel let out a low breath before bringing his hands up to drag the course of his face. This had to stop happening.
A snicker came from next to him and he looked over to, Mav, who had his arms crossed over his chest and a knowing glint in his eye. Az briefly wondered if you had told your friend about his little appearing act. The way Mav was looking at him, he’s sure you did. “You gonna stay for the final result?”
Yes, yes, yes! His shadows chanted in his ear and he shook his head roughly to keep them out of his ear.
“No, I gotta- busy!” He practically ripped the curtain with the force he pulled it open. He cleared the store in a few long strides before pushing himself free. In his daze he ended up colliding with a smaller frame.
“Az!” Mor yelled, straightening the dress he rumpled. “What are you-“ he eyes narrowed before glancing behind him, Jaim’s Nightwear was painted in delicate cursive on the windows. “What the hell were you doing?”
Az glanced once back at the shop before at Mor, “Embarrassing myself apparently.”
Mor clocked his flush demeanor before looking back at the window. She squinted her eyes again, tilting her head. She pondered doing some shopping at Jaim’s and Azriel’s speedy ‘no!’ only intrigued her more. She moved to step around him but Azriel’s hands clapped on her shoulder, turning her around and directing her back to the jewelry store across the street.
-
A low hum left the shadowsinger as he climbed up the ramp of the library. He scanned the isles looking for ‘Fiction- Rac.’
He had attended Nesta’s monthly book club with the priestesses, a guilty pleasure only the attendees knew of. He had offered to carry the books back to their rightful spot, an offer he was now regretting. The isle that held the thick fiction books had evaded him, and he had been walking back and forth for a half an hour now. A few priestesses had offered their help but he insisted they return to their work, that he could do it himself.
He decided to try the ‘Rab’ isle, keeping his wings tucked as his presence filled the narrow space. He almost cursed, debating throwing the books on a rack and letting someone else deal with it. His eye had just caught the beginning of ‘Rac’ when his attention was diverted.
You are needed,
Go now,
He ignored the shadows, pushing on towards his destination. He wasn’t about to fall into their trap again, he didn’t think he could handle another awkward encounter.
She needs help,
She needs you.
They insisted but Az just shook his head, looking for the correct author. “I’m not doing this again,” he whispered back. His luck she’d probably be in that little blue get-up and she’d have to clean up the puddle he’d melt into.
Go now!
Or regret it!
She will get hurt!
He groaned as he leaned his forehead against the cool self. The thought of you being hurt, even though he doubted you were, trumped his need to protect his ego. With his shadows whispering in his ear he had to see you were safe, and when you inevitably were he would come back and finish his job.
“Fine, but if she’s in her underwear again-“ the shadows cut him of chanting go, go, go! “Okay,” he was defeated, a slave to the torture his shadows were hell bent on putting him through. “Where is she?”
Home,
Her house.
“Good gods- I’m winnowing outside and if she’s half naked I swear I’m never listening to-“ he was cut off again by his shadows. This time it wasn’t a whisper, the seemed to bellow, angry at his reluctance.
Now!
With the urgency from his shadows he dropped the books on the floor, leaving them for whichever poor priestess found them first. After moving through space in the blink of an eye he landed on your front porch. He lifted his hand to knock, he wasn’t going to barge in and show up in the middle of your room uninvited- again.
Before his fist could connect with the door the sound of you screaming had him stumbling back. “Get out!” Followed by breaking glass. Your voice was shrill and panicked and it lit a protective fire inside of him.
He blinked again and he was inside your living room. Shadows were let loose across the space, crawling from his body to every corner of the room. You were there and so was a clearly unwanted presence. You were pressed against your mantle, gripping a vase like a weapon while the male staggered a few feet in front of you. He didn’t need his shadows to inform him about the alcohol that reeked from the man. His blood boiled and metaphorical claws were bared, he was going to kill the male that intruded on your space.
“Crazy bitch! Where’d you go?” The man slurred out as he waved his hands wildly in front of him; desperate to clear the opaque mist and find his target.
The name you didn’t deserve to be called had snapped Azriel into action, like a tensed spring he shot in front of the man. “I’m right here,” he whispered, mere inches from the drunk. The man made a shocked sound, startled by the new voice and its proximity. The man threw a pathetic punch, a low chuckle left Az’s lips as he caught the fist.
With a skilled spin he was behind the man, pressing his wrist between his shoulder blades in an uncomfortable contortion.
A straggled scream left his throat and Azriel cleared his shadows, wanting a proper look at who he was dealing with. The male was nothing special, skinny and pale with dull brown hair. His blue eyes looked hollow and glassy and the stench of alcohol absolutely assaulted Azriel’s senses at the proximity.
“You’d be wise not to try that again,” Azriel’s dark voice met the shell of the man’s ear. His eyes flickered up to you, wide eyed watching the scene play out. “What are you doing here?”
“Let me go! I just want to talk to her!” Azriel pressed his wrist higher and the male made a noice between a grunt and a scream. “Please!”
Tightening the grip on his wrist Azriel let out a low growl, this male was already too close, Azriel was never going to give him a chance to get closer. “I don’t think she wants to speak to you,” his low voice was eerily calm, steady as he leaned down to speak in the stranger’s ear. “Do you, Y/n?” His eyes moved back to you and watched as you viciously shook your head back and forth. “Well,” the grin in his voice was audible, “that settles that.”
Azriel gave the man a hard shove to which his shadows caught him, they carried him off to somewhere Azriel could deal him later. His eyes scanned the room once more, checking for any lingering danger, any hint of another threat. His shadows scowered the rest of the house, closing and locking any window that could be used as an entry point.
“Az,” you breathed before dropping the vase. The tough glass didn’t shatter, instead it rolled away while you ran. Within seconds your arms were around his neck with your face buried in his chest. He relished in your closeness, arms circling your waist with his nose finding your shoulder. A greedy breath reminded him you were safe, in his arms where no bastard would touch or even talk to you unwarranted. “I’m so glad that worked, I was worried that it wouldn’t, that I pushed to hard with it when you took awhile to get here but-“
“Wait what? What’re you talking about?” He pulled back to look down at you. Confusion had knitted his brows together and pushed his head onto an axis.
“Oh- I well… nothing,” you pulled back and turned away, red dusting your cheeks as your eyes fought to hide from him. Usually he was the flustered one, looking like boy whose hand had been caught in a cookie jar. But the roles were now reversed, you looked like you were dodging trouble of your own creation.
Azriel grabbed your wrist, delicately, turning you around to face him. He caught your chin in his other hand and angled your head to face him, “What did you want to work?”
You turned your eyes down but he just lifted your chin higher, your pink cheeks turned positively rosey and you shook your head. “Fine,” you breathed before pulling away from him completely. He watched as you moved around the glass you had previously thrown and made your way to the couch. “Well,” you started, drawing lines in your the cushion to keep from looking at him, “remember when we met? At that monster exchange?”
He nodded, “Of course.” He would never forget, catching a dove in an underground tavern full of monsters and the beats they aimed to sell. He had been tracking the traveling convention all across the night court, attempting to find who was running the trade. It was a highly illegal exchange and when he’d found you, you had begged to not be arrested, claiming curiosity brought you there. He let you go, told you to run while he dealt with the others.
“Well when I got home I noticed I had a little friend,” she held her hand out and to Azriel’s surprise, a shadow fell into her hand. It had danced out of its hiding spot in your hair and looped around your fingers, stuck to you like it was your own to wield. He just stared, mouth agape, to caught in his own shock to respond. “I started talking to it, they’re great listeners.” A giggle fell from your lips as you wiggled your fingers and the shadow weaved and bobbed through your digits. “And for some reason whenever I spoke of you, of wanting to see you, you would show up.”
You looked up tentatively, worried to see an angry Azriel. Instead you were faced with pure shock, he looked so lost so you felt the need to go on.
“I didn’t know it would tell you to come, not originally. Then after that first night, your shadows told you it was an emergency and I started taking advantage of that. Telling it to fetch you so I could see you again.” You looked back down, clearly ashamed of your admission. You couldn’t see the smirk that was growing on Azriel’s lips. “I know you’re busy, and-and it’s unfair to pull you away from your work like that. I shouldn’t have used your own shadow against you- gods- I’m so sorry. I’ll never-“
Your words were caught off by a laugh, a loud belly laugh. Azriel was practically doubled over. The realization had his face crinkled and his hands gripping his stomach as he gasped for air. You laughed nervously, adding him, “Your not mad?”
He stood up, still laughing but controlling it. His dimples were on full display and you melted a little, feeling ease wash over you.
“No, no I’m not mad,” he moved for the couch, “I’m glad I finally found out why my shadows are so willing to lie to me. It’s because they’re in kahoots with you.” He sat down and took your hand, your full smile matched his, “Never apologize for wanting to see me, I’ll come whenever you call.”
You blushed and nodded, laughing some more yourself. You stuck out the hand that held his shadow, “Here. You can have this back.”
He just shook his head with a smile, pushing your hand back. “Keep it, you can use it to get ahold of me.”
You looked back to him, the look on his face was one of pure ease, happiness and bliss, you loved to see it. You two sat there smiling at each other like idiots when you felt a tug on your heart. The tug got stronger and stronger until it snapped. With a gasp you threw your hand over your heart, as if the bond was tangible, something you could grab with your hands.
“It’s you,” you whisper leaning in slightly.
“And it’s you,” he whispered back after following you in.
You felt a tug on the bond, like he was pulling you towards him, you tugged back with a smile. You had always wanted to find your mate and you wouldn’t admit it just yet but you had wanted it to be Azriel since you met him underground.
You threw your head back, it was your turn to belly laugh. “Good gods! No wonder you always came running!”
He narrowed his eyes and let out a playful growl before pulling you into his arms. You giggled and wrapped your arms around him, looking at him in his eyes. “I’m glad it’s you,” was all you said before offering him a peck on the lips.
He beamed back, “I’m also glad it’s you.” He pulled you down for another kiss which you returned passionately.
“Soo..” you drawled pulling back, “Would you like to see that little blue number?” He responded with a low growl and nip at your ear. You laughed at his answer before jumping off the couch, you grabbed his hand and he happily let you drag him to your room.
A/N: My first request🥰🥰🥰 this was so fun, literally send more I live live live for them. I rlly hope my requester enjoyed this 🥲
Also I’m still working on ‘I’m Not Crazy, She is!’ Pt. 2 but it’s gonna be a long one so give me some time with that🙏🏽
As always if you made it this far I LOVE YOUUU<3<3 thank you so much for reading yall I love doing these.
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Tag list: @gorlillaglue25
#acomaf#acosf#acotar#acowar#acofas#azriel#acotar azriel#azriel shadowsinger#a court of thorns and roses#azriel fanfiction#azriel x you#azriel spymaster#azriel x reader#azriel fic#azriel fluff#azriel fanfic#azriel oneshot#azriel one shot#acotar oneshot#acotar fanfic
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domestic bliss
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 4.5k words
warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!
summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate
a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻
Part 2
A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.
A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling.
Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence.
"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head.
"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him.
"Well, hurry up."
"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair.
You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.
Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair.
"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly.
"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there.
"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you.
He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there.
"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss.
"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you.
Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared.
Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs.
You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch.
"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.
"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin.
"With pleasure, sweetheart."
…
The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element.
You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped.
Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night.
He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.
As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new.
A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you.
You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back.
"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips.
"Shadowsinger." You purred.
"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation.
"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room.
Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone.
After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove.
With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones.
"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting.
"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs.
"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly.
"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.
"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you.
"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh.
Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.
"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.
"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.
"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze.
"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye.
"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress.
"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you.
"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over.
"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"
"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down.
"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit.��
"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway.
…
Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen.
He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts.
A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his.
A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.
"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent.
"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.
"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.
"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.
"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"
He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually.
"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.
"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking.
"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.
It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore.
Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are.
Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him.
The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"
He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down."
He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him.
"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him.
His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go.
"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"
"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.
"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion.
"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."
He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa.
"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.
His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought.
"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart.
"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."
Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there.
He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite.
"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven.
He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile.
"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.
"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile.
"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.
Read Part 2 here!
#azriel#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#azriel one shot#azriel imagine#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar oneshot#acotar x reader#azriel fluff#acotar#azriel spymaster#rhysand#feyre#cassian#fanfiction#fanfic#one shot#imagine
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gone.
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader
Word Count: 2K (It's just a little drabble really)
Warnings: Angst, feelings of not being good enough, unrequited love, rejection, read Az's bonus chapter as this is kind of a different ending to it!
Summary: Sometimes it take's heartbreak to move on.
You’re not too sure how you found yourself here. Ensnared in a moment you shouldn’t have been a part of. Pressed against the wall, you couldn't escape the damning truth unfolding before you.
Fate, in its cruel irony, had thrust you into the heart of your deepest fear. It seemed as though destiny itself was spelling out the bitter reality—you would never be his, he would never desire you.
The gift box, wrapped in a serene shade of blue, felt like an anchor against your chest, the weight of it crushing against your heart and yet anchoring you to this spot all the same. With trembling hands, you clutched it tightly, your other hand clasped around your mouth in an attempt to contain the tumult of emotions threatening to spill over. You hadn't intended to intrude, only to find Azriel this Solstice and share your heart with him. After years of wrestling with your feelings, you had finally summoned the courage to confess to your best friend, hoping that maybe he might reciprocate.
But it was a futile dream. How foolish you had been to imagine that you would be the one to replace his infatuation with Mor.
No of course it wouldn’t be you, for hundreds of years you hadn’t been able to steer him from his longing of Mor. It had to be another, the lovely Elain Archeron.
The scent of their arousal hung heavy in the air. You should have moved, but you were frozen in place. Your eyes glued on their figures as you watched them draw one another close. It was as if the Gods were forcing you to accept your reality– you would never be good enough for him.
You swallowed hard, stopping the nauseating sensation rising up your throat. You were losing all control here, completely succumbing to your emotions. You weren’t sure what you would do if you actually saw them kiss.
At the top of the stairs, Rhys suddenly stood, his fury palpable as he observed the scene below. A silent exchange passed between him and his brother, you had known Rhys and Azriel for so long that you were always aware of their mind conversations. However, you never knew what was said. But by Azriels indifference, you could tell it wasn’t good.
Before Rhys winnowed away, his gaze found you. Your figure hidden in the shadows, his expression faltering as his eyes locked with yours, confusion spread across his features and then pain– pain for you.
You hadn’t realised till then, how your salty tears had slipped down your face. Wetting the floor beneath you. How they had revealed how you truly felt, something you thought you’d always kept so well hidden.
And perhaps here in your weakest moment, your own mental shields hadn’t been the strongest. Your anguish spilling over to whoever was able to feel.
With a fierce swipe, you brushed the tears away.
You watched as Azriel left to find Rhys, leaving a bewildered and confused Elain to collect herself before she ran out of the foyer. It was then the emotions overcame you.
You sank down against the wall, the tears flowing freely now, your quiet sobs echoing through the empty corridor. You had been so foolish.
You had seen the signs, noticed the bond growing between Azriel and the middle Archeron sister. Yet, you had dismissed it as nothing more than Azriel's innate kindness, his dedication to helping Elain adjust to Fae life like the rest of you had also supported. It never occurred to you that his actions held some deeper meaning.
And Rhys's fleeting glance had only added to your humiliation. To how stupid you had been. You didn't need his pity or anyone else's.
You already hated yourself enough for your naivety and foolishness.
The gift box lay abandoned beside you, a painful reminder of your misplaced affection. With trembling hands, you tore off the ribbon and unwrapped it, revealing the carefully chosen present inside. It was a handmade sheath for Azriel’s dagger, Truth Teller. Beautifully made from leather, with six subtle stones set along the top.
Purple, for Rhys. Red for Cassian. Blue for Azriel. Followed by Violet for Amren, Crimson for Mor and Sapphire for you. The original six. His first found-family.
As you traced the stones with trembling fingers, memories of simpler times flooded your mind. The dynamic of your found family had shifted with the arrival of the Archeron sisters, whom you loved dearly. But their presence had irrevocably altered the delicate balance you had once cherished with Azriel and the others. You hadn’t realised how their entry into your life would change so much.
Maybe it was your fault for thinking it wouldn’t.
~~~
Azriel snarled softly.
"Snarl all you want." Rhys leaned back in his chair. "But if I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it."
Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage.
Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. "Get out. And while you’re at it you owe y/n an apology for making her privy to your foolish actions tonight."
Azriel faltered a second. You had seen him? He hadn’t even noticed, his shadows had always vanished when in the company of Elain and they hadn’t notified him of your presence. In fact they rarely ever did. You were the one person who his shadows had always seemed to favour.
Fuck.
You had witnessed his reckless behaviour. It was a jarring revelation. You were one of his longest standing friends. There was no doubt in his mind you would be just as livid as Rhys for his actions.
Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house, searching for you.
Finding you in the library, Azriel approached you with a gentle call of your name, his voice filled with remorse. Your back was to him, and he watched you shudder slightly at the vibrations of his voice.
“I’m sorry you were witness to my actions earlier, I’m sure you have-”
“Forget it.”
Azriel was taken aback by your brazenness, the tone in your voice was something he’d never been on the receiving end of before. You moved swiftly in front of him, your back still to him as you placed your book back on the shelf.
“Right.”
Azriel struggled to understand your motives. Were you pretending not to have seen anything to spare his embarrassment, or had Rhys instructed you to keep silent?
“Well I am truly sorry.” He spoke again.
“Why do you keep apologising to me?” your voice wavered for a moment.
“Because you’re my friend, and I’ve implicated you-”
“Friend. Right, of course.” You clung to that word bitterly, you couldn’t help yourself. You had spat it back so venomously.
Azriel always knew you better than anyone, could tell when something was off and there was clearly something wrong. He stepped forward, touching your wrist to get you to turn at him.
And then he saw.
He saw the pained expression. Tear stained face and red puffy eyes. In all his years of knowing you, he had never seen this look– a look so broken.
Who had hurt you?
“Y/n, what’s wrong?”
You scoffed, pulling your wrist away from his grasp. Despite the hurt simmering within you, a newfound confidence surged through you. After mustering the courage to confess your feelings to Azriel, only to be met with rejection by his actions, you felt a liberating sense of release– you had nothing left to lose.
And quite frankly you just didn’t care anymore.
"It's you," you spat, your words dripping with bitterness as you locked eyes with Azriel, the pain evident in your glassy gaze. "It is you who has caused this."
Azriel's confusion was palpable, his brows furrowed as he struggled to comprehend how he could have hurt you so deeply. He felt his shadows coil around him protectively, but they remained silent, offering no explanation for his transgressions. Whether they didn’t know or they refused to tell him.
Your lips quivered slightly as you drew in a sharp breath, your fists clenching at your sides.. "It's my fault, really," you admitted, your voice tinged with self-blame. "For being so foolish, for ever thinking I–... That I would be good enough."
Azriel’s expression bore confusion, but seeing your pain was breaking something inside of him. He tried to reach for you again, wanting to soothe you but you stepped away from him.
Something started to gnaw on him then, deep in his chest.
"I know I could never compete with Mor, so I never even tried," you continued, your voice trembling with raw emotion. "I hoped maybe with time you’d realise that was never meant to be. Maybe eventually consider me instead…”
You had said it. Admitted your truth. Azriel’s eyes widened in shock. Your confession hung in the air, the weight of your words hitting Azriel like a punch to the gut. For a Spymaster, he had failed miserably at deciphering your true feelings. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, you pressed on, your voice thick with unshed tears.
"And I noticed how you didn’t look at her the same way anymore," you choked out, struggling to maintain composure. "I thought maybe it was because we’d gotten closer. I was so foolish, I realise that now. It wasn’t because of me."
"Wait, Y/n," Azriel interjected, his voice laced with urgency as he stepped forward, his hands gripping your arms firmly.
Azriel's heart sank as your words pierced through him, revealing a truth he had been too blind to see. He had never known, never even considered, because in his eyes, you were one of the most precious people in his life – too precious for him to ever believe he was worthy of.
Your voice quivered with emotion, and Azriel's chest tightened with guilt as he realised the depth of your pain. "I know I'm not as lovely as Elain," you whispered, your words like a dagger to his heart.
"Don't say things like that," Azriel pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "You are so incredible—"
But you cut him off, your words slicing through the air with a finality that left Azriel reeling. You refused to hear anything else from his lips. Those lips that had been so close to kissing Elain.
He watched helplessly as you moved out of his grasp, your every movement causing that feeling in his chest to grow. You picked something up from the table behind you, turning to face Azriel once more. Somehow forcing a soft sad smile across your lips.
Azriel's throat tightened, his breath catching in his chest as he gazed at you. In that moment, you seemed more fragile than ever, your vulnerability laid bare before him. He had always considered you beautiful, too beautiful for him, too kind, too good. And now, as he stood face to face with the pain he had unknowingly caused you, his heart ached with regret.
"I've held onto these feelings for so long, hoping one day you might feel the same way," you confessed, your voice heavy. "But I think tonight was the Gods' way of telling me it’s time to let go."
Azriel's hands trembled as you pushed the gift box into his palms, "Happy Solstice.” You whispered with a bittersweetness that tore Azriel’s soul. Your words, they felt so final. They felt like a goodbye.
With a shaky breath, Azriel glanced down at the box, opening, his fingers began to trace the intricate design of the sheath adorned with gems that he instantly recognised as symbols of him and his family. But when he looked up again, ready to speak your name in a desperate plea, he found only emptiness.
Finally, his shadows spoke.
Gone.
Next Part >> (by popular demand I have continued this, mwah)
a/n: This little drabble came to me last night, I wanted to inflict a little hurt. You are very welcome <3 - Lottie x
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I'm Not The One For You
Azriel x Reader
Summary: Azriel has been stressed at work and decided to hit the bars with his brothers. He gets so drunk that he may have forgotten what his love looks like
Warnings: fluffy with some spicy implications
WC: 1.1k
*masterlist*
a/n: I've been writing some heavy things and needed a break. I hope yall enjoy this short fluffy piece! xx
The sound of heels clicking on cobblestone joined the myriad of sounds along the Sidra. The city was lively, and all types of music and chatter filled the crisp air in Velaris. As you got closer, the bass at Rita's was getting louder. You, Morrigan, Amren, and the Archeron sisters were glowing from the spa's lavender-scented oil and dressed to the nines. After an afternoon of well-deserved pampering and last-minute shopping, it was time to meet with the boys.
You were wearing a dark blue mini dress, the material sparkled and reflected light with every movement of your body. The black strappy heels matched with your manicure and pedicure.
You were vibrant and ready for the night out with your mate and friends. Work had been tiring, especially when it was your job to organize military exercises with other Courts armies.
Excited to step into the bar, you grinned as the music vibrated all around you. Scanning the dance floor, your grin spreads when you see your blue-siphoned mate absolutely smashed and tearing it up on the dance floor with his brothers and other partygoers. Happy to see him relaxed, you go over to the bar to order yourself a drink before joining Azriel.
Despite being known as the “quiet one,” Azriel loved to dance and party occasionally. Work had been stressful lately, so he let loose and drank to his heart's content. Females and males were coming up to him all night asking to dance with him, but he refused, and if they got insistent, he’d give them the “sorry, you’re lovely but I’m married” speech. Everyone was always respectful and backed away, after all, he was the Shadowsinger.
It wasn’t even late but admittedly, Azriel drank too much, and his wild erratic dancing proved the point. His brothers and family teased him from afar, even Elain was poking fun at the drunken shadowsinger. In the corner of his eye, a female in a short blue sparkly dress approached him. Smelling like lavender, the female slid an arm around his waist and pressed her body against his.
You were about to bop to the beat of the music when Azriel stopped dancing and ripped himself away from you. The movement was so sudden, that the cocktail in your hand splashed droplets on the floor.
“Az? What’s wrong?” you asked wide-eyed.
“S-sorry, I’m taken. I’m just waiting for my wife,” he slurred as he deliberately turned away from you and started dancing again.
Startled, you looked at Cas, Rhys, and the girls and you burst out laughing. You pointed an accusatory finger toward the Illyrians.
“He doesn’t even recognize me! I can’t believe he’s shit-faced this early!” you weren’t mad at the boys, just highly amused.
Tapping Azriel on the shoulder, he turned, and you gave him your most dazzling smile. “I haven’t seen you all day and this is how you greet me? I’ve been wanting to dance with you, love.”
His eyes run down your body appreciatively, his gaze slowing around your thighs, he’s always loved your thighs. You gave him an encouraging nod, but he was still clueless.
Bringing up his left hand, he shows you the golden band around his ring finger. “I told you I’m married, see? She also happens to be my mate.”
You stifled a giggle and stepped closer to him. Surely, he would recognize your scent, right? You grabbed his hand and let your fingers trace the scars, he loved it when you did that.
In complete shock, he snatched his hand away after a few seconds.
“Look, you’re beautiful but I’m not the one for you. I would walk away before my mate gets here. She’s Night Court’s best warrior and I’m afraid she won’t let you get away with you bothering me so much,” said Azriel, his lips pressed into a line.
You started laughing, your handsome mate was so loyal. You can’t believe he would have sic’d you to flirty females. His family, who were listening to the whole thing, was snickering as well. Rhysand pinched his nose highly regretting pre-gaming at the townhouse, at the time it was a great idea.
Azriel squinted at his family when he realized they were laughing at him. “What?!”
Rhysand clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Brother, you’re so drunk that you don’t even recognize your own mate!”
Azriel’s eyes furrowed as he looked at your beautiful twinkling face, your lips forming into a smirk. Azriel tugged on the bond three times, and after a short beat, you tugged the bond four times. It was something the two of you did, the first person tugged three times and the four tugs meant that the second person loved them more. Clarity burst through his intoxication and when he realized, he tipped his head back in laughter.
Moving closer to you, he pressed his lips onto your temple and murmured an apology against your skin, this was the last time he was going to drink this much. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he placed a hand on your waist and the other on your bum. You turned to place a kiss on his cheek and then his lips.
He squeezed your body, and you pressed your lips on him again. “Why do you smell like lavender? No wonder I didn’t recognize you, I hate lavender!”
“That’s the oil they used on our massage today,” you said. A slower song was playing so you swayed with Azriel. He held you tight as you gazed into his eyes, melting at the sight of the brown and greens melting together.
After a few more hours of partying, it was time for you and Azriel to go home. Smelling of sweat, booze, and lavender oil, the both of you opted to bathe together.
You relaxed and laid on Azriel's chest as he took the loofah and scrubbed your skin. He said he wanted you to smell like yourself again and insisted that the bath water was to be changed for the two of you to properly soak. Now that the suds smelled of your favorite soap, he pulled you against him and he closed his eyes.
“Az?”
“Yes, love?”
“I’m really happy to know that even when you’re shit-faced, you won’t ever cheat on me.”
A growl rumbled in his chest, his hand splayed across your stomach and held you tighter. “Why would I do that when I’ve got the most perfect person in the world in my arms?”
You blushed; he always knew how to make you feel loved. Turning around to straddle him, you bent down to capture his lips. Who were you to question his logic?
#azriel fanfic#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fluff#azriel acotar#azriel fanfiction
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In My Eyes | Azriel
Azriel x Rhysand's Sister | Summary: Azriel has lost you once and when unseen circumstances bring you back to life, he will not lose you again. Even if it means going against his family.
warnings: mentions of death (descriptive and a bit gruesome)/loss, angst 💔
a/n: I wanted to take a little break from all the fluff I've been writing so here's a little angst. I listened to Jacob's prayer from the Minari soundtrack a lot along with Thom Yorke's Hearing Damage while writing this. Hence the title bc I couldn't think of anything else lol and also because I feel like Az would be so down for his mate, she really could do no wrong in his eyes.
A haunting stillness permeates the air, broken only by the occasional whisper of Azriel’s shadows. He doesn’t know why he’s here. He wants to turn and leave but his legs betray his mind, prompting him to go forward. Cracked cobblestone paths lead him to the castle’s doors and as Azriel pushes the door open, it releases a loud groaning noise.
Inside Hybern’s castle, broken furniture lies scattered and the once opulent halls now echo with the sound of dripping water. His shadows stir uneasily. A sudden gust of wind brushes past him, carrying a pleading whisper along with it.
“Help me.”
Goosebumps rise on Azriel's skin as his shadows freeze in place. There was something familiar about that haunting plea that sent shivers down his spine.
“Azriel.”
"y/n," he breathes, the mere utterance causing his shadows to stir into a desperate frenzy. His steps quicken, evolving into a full-blown run, his heart pounding in sync with the frantic pace of his movements.
"y/n!" he calls out again, this time louder. His eyes, stinging with tears, frantically scanning the endless expanse of the haunted halls for any trace of you.
"Azriel, help me!"
Azriel runs and runs, but the hall stretches infinitely before him.
“Help! I’m al–”
And then, with a jolt, Azriel wakes.
Cold sweat clings to him like a second skin as the tendrils of the dream slowly release their grip on his consciousness. Your voice–it felt so real. But he knows it’s a dream because when he turns his head, the spot beside him is empty.
As it has been for centuries.
Azriel allows his heavy eyelids to flutter shut once more as he catches his breath. This was just another nightmare, he tells himself. It does nothing to soothe him. The more he thinks about it, the more unease grips him. Even his shadows are shaky, trembling as they brush against him.
For centuries, his dreams have been plagued by nightmares. It had always been the same one. The one that made him relive the moment he found out you were dead. Azriel had been the one to find the box that carried your mother’s severed head down Windhaven’s river and when he had spotted another box, all he found was a severed finger. A severed finger wearing a ring he was all too familiar with because he had been the one to place it on your finger.
Azriel remembers the way his heart had dropped to his stomach. He remembers the way he had desperately tugged on the bond only to find nothing but an eerie quietness on your end. He knew at that moment you were gone and you weren’t coming back.
The scream that tore through his throat was as violent as the gaping black hole crushing through his chest. It curdled the blood of anyone within earshot and had the surrounding birds jolting from their perches, their feathers rustling in a panicked flutter. Not even his shadows, who had carried him through his darkest times, could console him.
Azriel had no body to mourn. No hand to hold on to. No face to caress for the last time. He could only hope that your death had been quick and painless.
But this nightmare was new. Different. You were alive in this one. Or sounded like it.
Azriel opens his eyes and he brings himself to sit up in bed. His hands, weary and scarred, rub at his face in exhaustion, brushing away the lingering tears that sting at his eyes. He then looks down at his hands, aching to feel your warmth once more. Even if only in a dream.
The glimmering ring on Azriel's left hand sparkles under the tender caress of moonlight, drawing his attention. His trembling fingers delicately trace the contours of the band. He can’t help but turn and twist it, yearning for a complete view of the engraved letters. It spells out your name and the ache of grief intensifies with every twist. He hasn’t taken the ring off since the day he married you, even after death did you part.
It compliments the smaller, daintier ring wrapped around his neck that hangs on a thin silver chain. Your ring. His name is engraved on it just as yours is on his. The only difference is that yours cradles a captivating cobalt blue gem. A precious fragment, crafted from his own siphon and meticulously refined by himself. He wanted you to carry a part of him wherever you went.
Now, he is left to carry it. The only piece he has left of you. A poignant reminder that though death may have claimed you, the essence of your union lingers on. He can’t imagine loving anyone else. He doesn’t want to love anyone else. For him, it was you and only you. He could only thank the Mother for allowing him the time he had with you but also curse her for taking you from him.
His hand closes around your ring, grappling with the disorienting emotions coursing through him. Despite the centuries that have separated you, an instinctual yearning tugs at Azriel's core. He reaches out for the intangible thread that once connected you. He knows he’ll only receive the familiar void. It had been this way for ages. He’d wake from his nightmare, reach out with false hope and receive nothing in return.
Yet, this time, just like the nightmare he woke from, is different.
The shadows that hover over Azriel's shoulders, murmuring their soothing lullabies, suddenly cease in their dance. His eyes widen, capturing a glimmer of something long forgotten. Hope. It stirs within him, a dormant ember flickering to life after centuries of darkness.
For a fleeting moment, a heartbeat in the vastness of time, there's a response. A fragile shimmer through the bond. So delicate that it's almost imperceptible. And it’s coming from your side.
Azriel tugs again, cautiously and slowly. Anxiously and holding his breath. Even his shadows don’t dare to stir. But as he awaits another sign, silence envelops him. There’s no response.
He tugs again, desperately seeking confirmation. And then again and again. His tugs grow harsher, more desperate, each pull an urgent plea for any sign, any trace of you. Yet, the bond remains eerily silent, as if mocking the fragile tendrils of hope that dared to rekindle within him.
Maybe it was all a figment of his imagination.
But he swore he heard your voice, swore that tug, as faint as it was, was there. The crushing weight of loss descends once more, and it's as if he's losing you all over again. The echoes of hope vanish, leaving only a hollowing ache. His shadows begin to stir again, anxious to fill that hollowness in fear of the malevolent darkness that threatens to creep back inside and consume him all over again.
“No, no, no,” Azriel cries, his voice breaking into a mere whisper. With tear-streaked eyes, he looks up towards the moon, its ethereal glow filtering through the window on the ceiling.
“Please,” he says, beseeching the celestial body to heed his prayer.
Yet, the void persists and an overwhelming surge of fear takes hold, tightening its icy grip around him. Because though he thinks of you all the time, he’s beginning to forget the small details. Such as the exact shade of your eye, the radiant sparkle in your eyes as you’d smile at him, the comforting warmth radiating from your laugh, the precise hue of blush that would grace your cheeks every time he told you he loved you.
He doesn’t want to forget. As painful as the memories are now, he wants to anchor himself into every single one of them. To hold onto the exquisite weight of every detail.
"Please," Azriel pleads once more. His body quivers with each sob, hunched over in bed, fingers tightly gripping his chest as if trying to anchor his unraveling soul. The shadows, usually under his control, writhe in a frenzied storm, mirroring the emotions swirling inside him. Some tendrils slither out from beneath the door, seeking out help.
It doesn’t take long for them to reach someone. Rhysand swiftly materializes in the room. "Azriel!" he calls out, a voice cutting through the tumult of emotions that cling to the air like heavy mist. “What’s wrong?”
"I heard her, Rhys," Azriel confesses through tearful sobs, his pain echoing in the shadows. "I felt her."
“What if she’s alive? I–I need to find her.”
Rhysand's heart plummets, a solemn gravity darkening his features. “She’s dead, Az,” he murmurs softly, tone laced with empathy. While Azriel lost his mate, Rhysand had lost his sister. He, too, mourns for you.
Azriel shakes his head in denial. “She needs me.”
Rhysand takes a deep breath, blinking back his own tears. He then turns toward the doorway, meeting Feyre’s wide eyes. She had rushed to the room along with him. "Please, get Cas," he tells her.
**
As Azriel secures his siphons, he stares down at his left wrist, where a lunar emblem is etched onto his tan skin. It had disappeared when you had died but now, it is vivid against his skin once more. He doesn’t know exactly when it had reappeared. He was binding his hands before a training session, many months ago, when he noticed it. The reappearance of your mating tattoo carries with it the weight of the vows you had spoken to him.
“As long as I’m alive, I will love you with every breath.”
But you weren’t alive. You were still dead. After that night almost a year ago, Azriel had looked for you. Every night and day. For months. He was driving himself into pure madness, even his shadows had grown restless. There had been no more signs, no more traces of you but he still pushed on and he would’ve continued if Rhysand hadn’t forced him to stop.
“Are you ready?”
Azriel nods at Rhysand, securing the last of his weapon to his leathers. He then spares a glance toward Cassian, who is doing the same. It had been a long week of planning for this very moment.
Koschei initiated contact through a cryptic note delivered to Rhysand. The message proposed a meeting at the lake. A “peace” conference, he had called it. One that exclusively also required the presence of Cassian and Azriel. The terms were strange, but with dwindling options and time slipping away, Rhysand reluctantly consented.
"I'll be back before you know it," Rhysand reassures Feyre, bending down to plant a tender kiss on her temple. His gaze lingers on their infant son cradled in Feyre's arms, his smile warm as he places a gentle kiss on Nyx's head. "Save me a slice of Elain's cake for later.”
"Alright," Feyre exhales, her eyes still etched with worry. Her attention shifts towards the inked markings on her left arm and a fleeting shadow brushes softly against the tattoo. Lifted by the subtle touch, her gaze meets Azriel's and then Cassian's. In that silent exchange, they convey an unspoken commitment to protect their family at any cost. Feyre can only manage a small smile before the three males winnow away.
**
As soon as they arrive at the lake, Azriel feels a stirring in his chest. His attention is immediately drawn to a lone white swan. The swan gracefully glides across the murky water. A looming darkness rises from the lake, blocking his view of the swan and causing his shadows to jerk back.
"Welcome," Koschei's voice whispers through the wind.
Rhysand moves forward, standing in front of Cassian and Azriel, despite the anxiety coursing through him. “Let’s cut to the chase. What do you want?”
The looming darkness swells, and a malevolent chuckle reverberates from its core. Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves behind his wings and his entire body stiffens. He can sense Cassian do the same beside him. "You know precisely what I desire."
"And you know why we won't grant it," Rhysand retorts. There’s an icy rage swirling in his violet eyes that overcomes his sense of fear. He can only imagine what a world ruled by Koschei would be like and he refuses to allow the death god the power to harm his family.
"I anticipated your reluctance, Rhysand. That's why I've prepared a gift. Aid in my liberation from this lake, and it's yours."
Rhysand scoffs, unwavering. "No gift will entice me to free you."
"Are you certain about that?"
The wind intensifies, rustling leaves and brushing against the Illyrians, raising goosebumps in its wake. Birds, concealed in the trees, erupt in panicked flight. Rhysand, undeterred, digs his hands into his pockets, his eyes narrowing in question at the death god.
Koschei's laughter echoes again. "Perhaps I should show you first. It’s only fair, wouldn't you agree?"
The wind abruptly ceases, plunging the world into an eerie hush. The shadow that looms over the lake drifts to the side, allowing the swan from earlier to glide forward. Suddenly, a dark mist envelops the bird, its form blurring and shifting until the swan's elegant feathers dissolve into a cascade of shimmering silver. From the mist, a cloaked figure emerges, her midnight-blue robes trailing behind her like the ripples of the lake.
With each graceful step, the water seems to part beneath her feet, revealing the silhouette of a woman long thought lost to the depths. You.
“y/n!”
Azriel instinctively moves forward, hand reaching out towards you. Cassian, however, restrains him, a powerful grip on his brother’s arm preventing any impulsive advance.
Rhysand's eyes widen as you approach, a slow and haunting revelation unfolding in the dim light. It is you, standing right in front of them. In your blood and flesh. But your eyes–your eyes, once bright with life, now mirror the opaque shroud of mist hovering around you.
“This can’t be,” Rhysand breathes, his voice barely a whisper, disbelief coloring his tone. “How?
“King Hybern resurrected your sister from the magic of the Cauldron the same way he did with Jurian. You see, Tamlin was desperate to get Feyre back at that time. He let his guard down, allowing Ianthe to not only disclose the location of the Archeron sisters but also the location of your dear sister’s remains. Tamlin buried her body somewhere in his lands but his father had kept her wings. As a trophy. Did you know her death was slow and cruel?”
A shudder courses through Rhysand. Cassian’s fist clench at his sides and he spares a glance toward Azriel, whose body is shaking. None of them knew the details of your murder. An apprehensive feeling churned in their stomachs and Rhysand felt the bile rise in his throat.
“The sons of Spring did not show her the same mercy they did your mother. They drugged her with faebane, rendering her powerless so that she could not fight back. They sloughed her finger off to gift to you. Then, they took her wings. Let her bleed to death."
Suddenly, Azriel’s chest tightens. He can’t breathe. A pained expression crosses his face and his knees go weak. Images of you being tortured to death flood his mind and all he can think about is how he failed you. Cassian’s grip on him tightens even more, keeping him steady.
“King Hybern was so sure he’d win the war that he kept your sister hidden. He knew the Shadowsinger was her mate so he drugged her with faebane the same way the sons of Spring did. He didn’t want any of you finding out she was alive.”
“Hybern didn’t want to ruin the surprise. After his victory, he had planned to take you all back to the castle to torment you with her live state. Only to have you die at her hands. Of course, as you can see, that didn’t work out. Briallyn knew of her resurrection and brought her to me.”
Azriel can’t take his eyes off of you. His shadows dart toward you, slithering up your legs and caressing every inch of you. They linger on your wings. You don’t move. You don’t even blink.
But you’re alive.
All this time you had been alive. That nightmare he had, it was real. You were calling out to him, asking for help. Tears sting at his eyes. That tug he had felt from your shared bond. It was also real. And the tattoo that had reappeared on his skin was not a cruel trick from the Cauldron. But a sign.
“I’ve become very familiar with your sister. She’s very powerful but I’m sure you knew that.”
Rhysand’s gaze flickers to where you stand, heart aching. It’s you but not you. Unlike Azriel, he can’t help but think what if this is all a trick? An illusion to get him to side with Koschei? Cassian meets his worried gaze. They both glance toward Azriel and then exchange a look.
“Let her go.” Cassian finally speaks, hazel eyes glaring at the darkness before them. “And take me instead.”
“Lord of Bloodshed,” Koschei addresses Cassian in an amused manner. “What a most gracious offer. Unfortunately, for you, I have no desire to replace y/n. You, however, are welcome to join me of your own free will.”
“While I am confined to this lake, y/n is going to do everything I physically cannot. She’ll be my proxy, my spymaster. Isn’t that right?”
"Yes, master.”
The words slip from your lips like ice, each syllable devoid of the warmth and affection that once filled them. Azriel's heart lurches in his chest, a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach as he hears the lifeless tone of your voice.
"No," Azriel growls, the sound reverberating through the air with a primal intensity. His voice, usually steady and composed, now carries an edge of desperation and fury. “You have no right to her. She’s mine.”
Rhysand keeps his hands in his pockets, hiding the fact that they’re slightly trembling. He eyes you once more, pure agony seeping into his very core. He mentally takes a deep breath and looks back toward the looming shadow over the lake, mustering all his strength to feign indifference.
“I don’t understand how this is a gift.”
“Here’s the deal, Rhysand. You help free me from this lake and I free y/n from my control. It’s as simple as that. Since I’m feeling generous, I’ll give you a week to think about it.”
All seven of Azriel’s siphons ignite in a cobalt blaze of raw power. He will not let Koschei control you. You’ve already suffered enough. Cassian struggles to maintain his hold, his grip faltering against the force of Azriel's will.
“Azriel, no!”
The sound that erupts from Azriel was more animal than human—a deep, throaty growl that spoke of primal fury. He breaks free from Cassian, stumbling forward. He regains his footing with ease, rushing toward the lake. Toward the looming figure. Toward you. He’s so close, the water lapping at his boots when your clouded eyes finally meet his.
Burning pain courses through Azriel’s veins, bringing him to his knees and suddenly, he feels like he’s on fire. Your power takes hold over him, penetrating to the core of his being, carving through the marrow of each bone. He knows the fire is not real. It’s only an illusion but it feels as if every single cell in his body is being tormented with the worst agony imaginable. He can barely hear himself scream over the roaring pain in his ears.
Two strong hands clamp onto Azriel’s shoulders and he writhes against it, fighting it. “No,” his voice is a mere hoarse whisper as Rhysand uses his own power to pull him out of your illusion.
As Rhysand’s tendrils of darkness engulf Azriel, the last thing he sees are your eyes. They’re still clouded over, devoid of their usual luster. Yet, against the backdrop of emptiness, tears escape from them.
**
Azriel wakes to a dull ache in his head. He feels the gentle caress of his shadows against his face, tenderly attempting to alleviate the headache that grips him. With a slow blink, he reluctantly greets the soft illumination of his room at the riverhouse. Memories of what happened earlier flood back with startling clarity and his wings quiver involuntarily. A physical manifestation of the anguish that had ravaged his spirit. He doesn’t care that it was you who inflicted that pain upon him.
It pales in comparison to the pain you must be feeling inside. A mere glimpse of the raw emotions raging within you was enough to pierce Azriel's heart. Like a tempestuous storm, the waves of pain surged through your bond. But then, abruptly, he was shut out.
The image of your tear stained cheeks as you brought him to his knees plagues him with uneasiness. It’s this restless unease that stirs him, prompting him to rise from the bed. He looks toward his door, his shadows curling against his ears. Heavy with determination, he makes his way towards Rhysand’s office.
When Azriel's shadows forcefully swing the doors open, the entire inner circle stands before him. Their expressions betray the weight of their recent discussions. The room falls into a silence, thickened with tension. They had been discussing you. Without him. His hands clench into tight fists, his simmering anger threatening to spill over.
“Azriel,” Feyre greets him with a tense smile. “How are you feeling?”
Azriel’s eyes lock onto Rhysand. Anguish and resentment churn within him and Rhysand's posture stiffens in response
“We have to approach this situation with caution,” Rhysand says, surprised by the steadiness in his own voice despite the weight of their predicament.
“Caution?” Azriel nearly growls, prompting Cassian to inch toward him. “She is my wife! My mate! And you expect me to just sit here and wait for your approval to save her?”
Rhysand frowns, his violet eyes flaring. “You think I don’t hurt too?” He exclaims, his voice breaking as he utters his next words. “She is my sister!”
A hand rests on Azriel’s shoulder. Cassian’s. “I want to save her too. Trust me, I do. But we can’t just jump into–”
Azriel shakes Cassian’s hand off, his shadows hissing toward the taller male. “What if it were Nesta?”
Cassian frowns and he spares a glance toward his mate, who is watching the scene unfold with a somber look on her face. Azriel releases a frustrated huff before redirecting his gaze towards Rhysand, a pointed finger aimed accusingly at his friend and High Lord.
"If it were Feyre," he insists, his voice tinged with both desperation and conviction, "you would see no reason."
Rhysand's silence speaks volumes.
"I failed her once," Azriel continues, firm and resolute. "I will not fail her again."
But Rhysand's response is unwavering. "I can't let you go. You have to understand.”
Azriel's jaw tightens. "You can't stop me," he counters in defiance, wings flaring out behind him.
"As your High Lord, I–”
"I'm done," Azriel cuts off sharply before Rhysand can go any further. He’s well aware of the weight of his words but he doesn’t allow them to bring him down. You are his mate, the tether to his soul, and he will put you above all else. Even his family.
"I resign as Spymaster of the Night Court.”
Feyre's eyes glisten with tears as she approaches Azriel, brushing off Rhysand's attempt to hold her back. "Azriel, please," she implores, her voice trembling with emotion. She knows what Azriel must be feeling. She knows because she lived it herself when Rhysand died after the war. But she also knows–or at least, hopes–that there’s another way to bring you back home. She’s already making plans in her mind to reach out to Helion.
"Don't go. We'll find a way to bring her back, I swear it. Just give us time."
Azriel shakes his head, the thought of waiting to rescue you souring in his mouth. He can't bear the thought of you in pain, needing him, while he stands idle. The urgency to act gnaws at his soul, a primal instinct driving him to protect you at any cost.
“You’ll abandon your family then?” Amren asks. Despite her efforts to maintain her usual façade of indifference, a faint glimmer in her eyes betrays the struggle.
“I will not abandon my mate.” Azriel says, taking a step back. “She’s my family too.”
"Don't do this," Rhysand pleads as he takes a tentative step forward, his hand outstretched toward his brother.
Azriel takes another step back, his hazel eyes darting across the room, absorbing the silent pleas etched on the faces of the inner circle. He loves them but he loves you more.
When his gaze locks with Rhysand's again, Rhysand's heart sinks. He realizes that Azriel's mind is already set. His brows knit together in a pained expression. He doesn’t want it to end like this.
"I will not hold this against you," Rhysand manages, his voice strained.
How can he hold this against Azriel? When he would do the same for Feyre. When you, his sister, have been brought back to life only to be imprisoned by Koschei. A gasp fills the room as he drops to his knees.
"But please... just...please..."
The words catch in his throat, choked by the overwhelming grief and helplessness that engulf him. His shoulders slump in defeat as tears blur his vision. Feyre instinctively wraps her arms around him, pulling him close. A brief sanctuary in the midst of his shattering world.
He knows he cannot make Azriel promise anything and Azriel knows this too. Despite the grim circumstances, there is a flicker of solace in Rhysand knowing that whatever terrors may come, you won't face them alone.
“I’m sorry,” is all Azriel says before winnowing away.
**
Azriel’s shadows tuck themselves back behind his wings when he arrives at the familiar lake. His gaze immediately seeks out the water's edge, where wisps of mist still linger. There's no sign of the white swan he had seen earlier.
"I knew you would come around, Shadowsinger," Koschei's voice taunts from the shadows.
"Where is she?" Azriel demands.
Koschei's laughter carries on the wind, but he concedes. You emerge from the surrounding trees, your eyes widening in shock as you lock gazes with Azriel. This time, your eyes are clear, unclouded, and Azriel's heart twists with recognition as he memorizes the exact shade of your eyes all over again.
"You can't be here," you protest, and Azriel's shadows peek out from behind his wings, reacting to the sound of your voice. It's you. It’s really you.
Your eyebrows furrow, mirroring the same pained expression Rhysand had worn just moments ago. You recognize the gleam in his eyes. "No," you plead, your voice barely a whisper, tears welling up in your eyes. "You can't do this. You have to go back. Go back right now!"
Tearing his gaze off of you, Azriel looks toward the ominous silhouette of Koschei. He can feel the air thicken with anticipation, awaiting his next words. He continues to ignore your protests, even as you frantically rush toward his side.
“As long as you have control over her, you have control over me.” Azriel says and then drops to his knees in submission.
"My, my, my. What a lovely surprise," Koschei remarks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Get up!" You cry out, your hands clutching at Azriel's arms in a desperate attempt to pull him away from the lake. Away from Koschei's grasp. "Azriel, get up!"
Azriel’s knees remain rooted to the spot but his body leans into your embrace. His eyes flutter shut as he allows himself a fleeting moment to revel in the warmth of your presence—the warmth he had yearned for over centuries. The warmth he thought he would never feel again.
His eyes open and though Koschei is a mere shadow a couple of feet away, he can feel his gaze burning into his soul.
“I’ll serve you too,” Azriel finally says, sealing his fate alongside yours in the grasp of the death god.
**
"What have you done?" Your voice trembles with disbelief, your eyes still wide with shock as you stare up at Azriel, your hands reaching out to grasp his face. After Azriel swore his loyalty to Koschei, the death god had granted you both permission to be alone. He sent you to his sister’s old cottage, where you’d be staying for now.
Azriel's heart swells at the touch of your warm, soft hands against his skin. He wipes away the tears that cascade down your cheeks, his own emotions overwhelming him. "You're alive," he murmurs softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as he rests his hands on your face.
His fingers trace the familiar contours of your features. Every line, every curve is evidence to the reality of your presence. A presence he had long thought lost to him for eternity. The Cauldron had gifted him once more. Here you are, tangible and real. Alive. He can barely believe his eyes.
As Azriel's fingers delicately brush against your face, his shadows dance eagerly in his wake, reaching out to join in the tender caress. They yearn for the sensation of your skin, their touch as gentle as a whisper, expressing their overwhelming joy in silent echoes. "I love you. I love you. I love you," they chant in a chorus of happiness and the bond in your chest sings back in a language only you three understand.
Despite the tears streaming down his face, there’s such a deep and profound warmth in Azriel’s eyes. As he looks at you, it’s like sunlight breaking through dark stormy clouds. You want to bask in its golden glow but as a thought crosses your mind, you abruptly shrink back from him and your lip quivers.
“I hurt you. I-I didn’t want to but I couldn’t stop it. I hurt you. I made you scr–”
Azriel smiles at you, bringing you back into his protective embrace. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” you breathe, eyes searching for any trace of pain or repulse. You find none and though unleashing your power on your mate was against your will, your guilt threatens to consume you. “I’m so sorry, Azriel. I’m so sorry you’re here.”
"Don't be," he murmurs softly, cradling your head against his chest. His fingers thread through your hair, a gentle reassurance of his unwavering presence. He had lost you once. He’s not going to lose you again.
With a heartfelt sigh, he pulls you even closer. “I’m right where I want to be.”
Slowly but surely, the cascade of tears dwindled, leaving a trace of dampness on your cheeks and Azriel’s leathers. In your mate’s arms, you finally have the courage to voice your deepest fear.
"I'm scared, Az. What if I hurt you again? Hurt someone else? What if I do something worse?”
The vulnerability in your voice tugs at his heartstrings, igniting a fierce determination to shield you from any harm. He’d do anything for you.
“You can do no wrong in my eyes.” Azriel responds, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. He then inhales deeply, flooding his senses with your scent. “You don’t know how much I missed you.”
Azriel then pulls away, just enough to look at you again. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you but I’m here now. I won’t fail you this time.”
Your gaze softens. You send a wave of pure love through the bond and Azriel feels his heart flutter at the sensation he’s been deprived of for so long.
“You never failed me, Az.”
Azriel's face breaks into a radiant smile and you smile back at him. It lights up the darkness that had weighed heavily on his heart for centuries. "I love you," his voice is barely above a breath, reveling in the blush that takes over your cheeks in response.
He reaches for the chain around his neck, fingers trembling slightly as he clasps your left hand. His gaze lingers on the lunar tattoo on your arm that matches his for a moment before sliding your wedding ring back onto your finger.
Holding your gaze, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. "My mate," he murmurs against your skin. He then kisses the ring on your finger, the cobalt gem glowing in response. “My wife.”
"I love you," you say back, your arms winding around his neck as your fingers caress the soft strands of his hair. He yields to you, allowing himself to be drawn closer. You kiss the corner of his mouth. "My mate."
Then, finally, you press your lips against his. "My husband," you declare softly, sealing your bond with a kiss that echoes the depths of your devotion and commitment to each other.
And for the first time in centuries, Azriel sleeps soundly with you in his arms. Free from the torment of nightmares that had haunted him for so long.
Only to wake up and realize it’s because he’s now living in one.
a/n: Hope you enjoyed! When writing this, I didn't intend for there to be more parts so for now, it's a one-shot. I left the ending open-ended to allow you to interpret it how you want and also, leave room for a sequel in case I ever do want to go back to this. That being said, while I don't have ideas for a sequel in mind as of right now, I did come up with a backstory for Az & reader in this little au so I might write a prequel on how their relationship came to be.
I also have another Az x Rhys's sister series. It is written in third person and it's more of an Az x OC series. You can find it here, if interested. But I do intend to make this au different than that one.
tagging: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444
#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel x rhysand's sister#azriel angst#azriel imagine#azriel one shot#azriel fanfiction#acotar imagine#acotar fanfiction#acotar angst#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar x y/n
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Practice On Me — Part Seven — Azriel x Reader
Note: I hope you enjoy this part because I’m not overly happy with how it’s written, I don’t know why 😭probably just me being a DUMBASS. Also, it’s still not letting me tag some of you 😩anyone know why?
Summary: The Bat Boys are worried about reader. Cassian’s getting a little suspicious of Kaeda. Azriel is really, really missing his friend.
Word count: 7k.
Warnings: Some injury detail.
“He cannot do this. Surely, he cannot fucking do this.”
Azriel slams his fist on the table so hard that ale sloshes over the lip of a mug. The atmosphere in the mead hall is unusually calm tonight. There’s more laughter than arguing, and some dickhead with a lute is even providing the attendants with music. But at the centre table, a cloud of doom darkens the mood.
Everyone has wisely given Rhys, Cassian and Azriel a wide berth.
Tensions are high. Something’s got to give.
“His role in this camp is to oversee our training.” Az balls his fists. “Not to get involved with how we spend our time outside of it.” He eyes Cass and Rhys opposite him. “Right?”
“Technically, yes.” Rhys confirms. “But as the overseer of said training, he also has the authority to remove any distractions as he sees fit.”
“Distractions? She’s our friend, not a fucking toy—”
“I’m just putting it to you straight, Az. It’s the typical Illyrian attitude rearing its ugly head. All four of us made the decision to go to Fenlaros, and yet it’s the female who shoulders the blame.”
“It’s fucking ridiculous.” Cassian finally speaks up.
He hasn’t said much. Too busy thinking about last night.
Nobody knows a thing about that wild, impulsive fuck except him and Y/N. He plans to keep it that way. Not out of any sense of regret, but…he doesn’t know. His brain is ticking over.
He can’t help wondering something that’s never occurred to him before.
Is Y/N branded a certain way by Illyrian ideologies because the closest people to her are males? Has she unfairly gained a reputation — one that would be made worse if what she and Cassian had done became common knowledge?
He doesn’t want to be the reason she gets more shit thrown her way. He’s starting to think he should think harder before he acts. Maybe last night was a mistake. He can’t even see Y/N to talk it through with her.
“So what do we do?” Az is asking as Cass zones back in. “There’s got to be something. Do we take the matter to your father?”
Rhys cocks an eyebrow. “Be real for a second, Az. My father would laugh us out of Velaris. He doesn’t concern himself with trivial camp matters.”
“Y/N having to choose between an abusive household or perishing in the snow is not a trivial matter.”
“To him, it is. He’d tell Devlon to lead and do what he believes is right. Which, he already has, even if we don’t agree with it.”
“Well that’s bullshit. We can’t just lie down and do nothing—”
“I’m not saying that, Az—”
“What about your mother? She adores Y/N. Surely she could appeal to your father—”
“No. She’s pregnant. She stays out of this.”
“Then what do you suggest, Rhysand?”
“How about you start by explaining to Cass and I what’s gotten into you recently?”
Finally, Az has nothing to say. He goes silent. Still.
He stares back at his two friends like he can’t imagine why they would wonder such a thing.
And then he purses his lips. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Cassian scoffs. “Please. Even I think you starting fights left and right has been extreme.”
“Fuck you. You’re totally exaggerating.”
Rhysand raises an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“We’re just worried that your behaviour has changed since Kaeda came into the picture—”
“You know what I’m worried about?” Az snaps. “Our friend who is literally homeless as of this morning. That’s a little more important, don’t you think?”
Yes…and no. It’s not that Cassian and Rhys don’t agree. It’s just that…that all roads lead back to Kaeda. And that’s becoming a problem.
“We’re not just going to leave Y/N to deal with this alone, Az.” Rhys tells him. “We just need to be careful about how we deal with it. Devlon isn’t messing around. I don’t want us to cause her more trouble.”
As folds his arms. “So what do you suggest?”
“I’ll talk to Y/N’s friend — Vegha. I’m sure she can open her home to Y/N while we figure things out. Just don’t do anything impulsive or stupid.”
That seems to appease Az a little. He sits back in his chair — allows himself to be a bit more open.
Until Cass totally fucking ruins it and says, “And don’t go starting any more fights just to impress Kaeda.”
Az says again, “Fuck you.”
Cass returns a withering look. “Fuck you right back.”
“Productive.” Rhys comments, shaking his head. He pushes to his feet, and both his friends look round.
“Where are you going?” Az asks.
“To speak with Vegha.” Rhys tells him. “And don’t follow me. You two idiots will only make things worse.”
He has no idea how right he is.
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It starts with the fire going out. Always.
The door swings open hard enough to hit the wall, and freezing air envelops the place. Your father tracks snow into the house, and he smells so strongly of booze that it permeates the room and spreads like a sickness.
You are five years old. You like to draw things in the soot that coats the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. The house always feels untidy since mama stole away in the dead of night a year ago. You try to keep on top of the cleaning, but the damp and the cold makes your hands sore, your bones ache.
Every night, you sit with your hands in your lap and wait for your father to return home. If he’s coming back from the forge, he’s tired and in a bad mood. If he’s coming back from the mead hall or a tavern, he’s drunk and in a really bad mood.
Tonight is the latter. But not only is he drunk and in a bad mood — he’s also brought company.
Four other males. They’re all huge — too huge to fit into the house, you think. If they’ve come for food, there isn’t any. If they’ve come for comfort, there isn’t any of that, either.
But they’re looking at you, all four of them. And in some way, you know that it’s you they’ve come for.
“This is the one?” A male with reddish-brown hair asks.
“I have only one.” Your father answers, and he jerks a chin in your direction. “That is it.”
It.
“Scrawny. There’s barely anything of her.” A second male comments. “This won’t be difficult.”
“I always think that,” reddish-brown answers, “and then they start fighting back. Kicking and scratching.”
You may only be five, but you are not foolish. Something is very, very wrong. A sinister wave has swept your already-miserable home, and you are about to be swallowed up in it. You eye the four males with wide eyes and scoot back a little.
Reddish-brown is the leader. He folds his arms with an authoritative air and announces, “Pathorn and Yevmael can hold her down,” he turns to the second male, “you take one wing, and I’ll take the other.”
The male that steps towards you from the back has eyes as black as the soot in the hearth. His lips twitch up on one side, and he says, “Come here, then, little pup.”
You do not move.
“Come.” He repeats. “It won’t hurt…much.”
They laugh at that.
You tuck your dirty, bruised knees tightly into your chest and rest your chin atop of them. You say nothing, make no move.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” His friend at the back says, stalking over to you. “Just pick her up.”
He does exactly that — by the scruff of your neck. You yelp as he yanks you into the air, and on instinct, your arms are flailing, legs kicking, tiny wings flaring.
“Look at that.” Charcoal eyes sneers at those very wings. “It’s a fucking abomination.”
If this is a game, you don’t like it. You twist in the male’s grasp, try to wriggle free, and he growls a curse at you. You growl back — a fierce, fierce noise, you think. It makes the males laugh again.
“On the table.” Reddish-brown says. “Face-down.”
“Papa,” you fight, “papa, papa, papa.”
There comes no response. It’s then that you realise he’s removed himself from the room. Left you with these monsters.
“Quiet now, pup.” Charcoal eyes says. “This won’t take long.”
You want to scratch him, and you try, even though your nails are chewed and bitten, despite mama always telling you not to do that. But mama isn’t here now and neither is papa. It’s just strangers with angry faces. Strangers who want to hurt you.
You’re slammed down onto the table, and you let out a cry. Someone holds your legs down. Another person holds your arms.
You are five years old. You like to draw pictures in the soot that covers the fireplace. You don’t like green apples, but red ones aren’t so bad. You are utterly and totally alone.
“I hope you never thought about flying.” Reddish-brown steps up to you. “That day will never come.”
And then they begin hacking at your wings.
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Your father takes you to a healer only when it’s almost too late. A fever scorches you head to toe. You think that mama returns to sit by your bedside, but that isn’t real. It’s a dream.
You’re too weak. You sleep fitfully on your front, because trembles wrack your body that continuously wake you up. You jerk every time the pain at your back gets too much.
The door opens, and you wonder if mama is returning again. You like that dream. But it’s your father, accompanied by the male who has been leaning over your weakened body for days.
“Will she live?” Your father asks.
“She will.” The healer tells him. “If she can fight off the infection.”
“Can’t you just give her a tonic, or something?”
“This is the worst wing clipping I have ever seen. There are ample healers in Illyria who are qualified to carry out the practice. What possessed you to instead leave her in the hands of a group of soldiers?”
“I will do with my child as I see fit.”
“You may no longer have a child, if she cannot fight this. Her life hangs in the balance.”
Your father makes a noise that sounds like a growl. He does that when you’re in his way, and he just wants to sit quietly without you lingering around him. “Give her a fucking tonic—”
“If she survives this,” the healer tells him, “she will be scarred and in pain for the rest of her life. You did not merely clip her wings. You butchered them. This is precisely why a healer should be the one to perform the procedure—”
Your body jerks with a fresh wave of pain, and you whimper. Both your father and the healer look over at you.
Your father’s lip curls, and he turns to the male once more. “Fix her.” He commands. “Because if you can’t, you’re helping me bury the body.”
No. The males will come back and put their hands on you again. They’ll bury a body. They’ll bury your body. They’re going to bury you. Soil will fall on your ruined wings, and when mama truly does come back, she’ll have only an unmarked grave to greet you at.
You try to move, but you’re strapped down. You whimper again.
Bury the body.
Bury the body.
Bury the—
Your body lurches up.
Sweat slicks your skin. You press a hand to your forehead, but it’s cool, not burdened by fever. You’ve awoken like this every morning for the past week.
The dreams are burdening you a lot right now. The memories.
They remind you, at least, why you will not return to your father’s home. Even if you end up hunching yourself up in doorways and exhausting any other dire options.
You hear a noise from the doorway, and you rub the bleariness from your eyes. Illuminated by the dim light in the hall, a male leans against the doorframe. He watches you nonchalantly, biting into an apple. Green, not red.
“You were shouting in your sleep again.”
You heave a deep, slow sigh and rake your fingers through your hair. Sweat soaks the strands.
“You dream often about burying bodies, don’t you?” The male steps into the room. He flares his wings, and you try not to look at them. “You’re quite odd. I think I like it.”
“Get out, Markis.” You sigh again. “Stop watching me sleep. It’s strange.”
“Is it more or less strange than chanting about burying a body?” He smirks. “And you’re in my house, remember? You can’t tell me to get out.”
“Yeah, well, it’s my house, too, and I can.” Suddenly, Vegha is appearing. She swats her younger brother, and a slither of relief settles into you. “Stop bugging her, Markis. Go to the training rings, or something.”
Markis so clearly doesn’t want to leave. He eyes you, his gaze falling from your neck, down to the old, threadbare sweater that you’ve been sleeping in. It’s Azriel’s — still smells like him.
The intensity of the male’s gaze is uncomfortable. And after a week of tolerating it, you’re not sure you can any longer.
“Fine.” He swallows down a bite of apple. He sends you a leering smirk. “I’ll tell your friends you said hello.”
Vegha rolls her eyes. “Markis, just leave before I boil your entire head—
“I’m going, I’m going.”
The male strides out of the room, shooting you one last look over his shoulder. You should ignore it, because the idiot is just basking in the novelty of having a female under his roof that he’s not related to, but the discomfort has sunk itself under your skin, and you’re not sure you can live with it.
Which is a bit of a problem, considering there are no other avenues for you to explore, and have nowhere else to go.
Vegha shuts the door behind her brother and turns to you. “You slept fitfully again.”
“Yes.” You feel a little bad admitting it. It’s not her, nor her family home, nor the bed that’s the problem. It’s you. All you. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“Of course, you do. I wish there was more I could do to help.”
“You’ve done more than enough, Vegha.”
She doesn’t look convinced. The worried streak in her eyes is an indicator of how terrible you look. And you know she’s just caring for you as your friend, but you can’t stand it. One more pitying glance may push you over the edge.
“I have to get to the crèche.” She tells you. “Can I get you anything before I leave?”
“No—thank you.” You sit up. “Listen…I won’t be here when you return home. I’m getting out of your hair today.”
She pauses. Studies you. “You’re not in my hair. You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need. Ignore Markis — he’s a cock.”
You breathe a soft laugh. But you can’t ignore Markis — not any longer. Just as you haven’t been able to ignore any of the males who have made the past week even more difficult than it already was.
Illyrian males are…are a sickness. They’re bred in violence and depravity. So few of them are good.
And if the past week without Azriel, Rhys and Cassian has taught you anything, it’s that to some degree, your exposure to such behaviours has always been muted, thanks to their protection. They’ve been a strong unit around you since you were eleven years old. Most males have been wise enough to steer clear and escape the wrath that would come down on them for messing with you.
But now you’re forbidden from seeing them, and you’re free game for any fucking male in this gods-forsaken place.
You need to be away from them. To be on your own.
“I know.” You answer Vegha. “And I appreciate you opening your home to me, I really do. But it’s fine — I’ve made other arrangements.”
The look she gives you is dubious. She doesn’t believe you, and rightfully so — it’s total bullshit. “You have?”
“I have.” You dip your chin. “I’ll be just fine.”
“…well I’m glad to hear it. You’ll come right back here if those plans fall through, right?”
“Of course I will.” No.
She hesitates at the door. She’s been nothing but kind and accommodating to you — a real friend.
But it’s bad enough not being able to escape the males that haunt your dreams. There’s a damn good reason for you staunchly refusing to return to your father. You will not swap one monster for another.
“I’ll see you soon, then.” Vegha studies you. There’s a sadness in her brown eyes. She genuinely cares. “Take care, Y/N.”
“I will.” You force a breezing smile. “And you, also.”
She inclines her head, and then she’s slipping out of the room. The silence only gives way for your too-near dreams to dig their claws in. You scrub your hands harshly over your face and push to your feet.
You don’t know where you’ll go. It’s tempting to ignore Lord Devlon’s warning and race back to the cottage. Drama may await you there — a total mess that you somewhat made for yourself — but at least you’d be warm and safe while facing it.
You can’t — you know you can’t. You don’t want Az or Cass or Rhys to face any consequences.
So after you get yourself ready and gather what little stuff you have, you head out into the snow and hope you won’t be sleeping in it that night.
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Azriel strikes at the sparring dummy as if it fucked his wife and stole his seat at the dinner table.
The damn things are supposed to be bolted to the ground, but a couple of bolts are no match against the fearsome shadowsinger.
He strikes and strikes until the object is more or less obliterated, because fuck the sparring dummy, that’s why. Fuck the sparring dummy, and fuck Lord Devlon, and fuck—
“I think you made your point.” A trilling voice cuts through his red mist of rage. “How about you set the sword down and have some water?”
Perhaps it’s just Azriel’s anger thinking for him, but he doesn’t feel that Kaeda has been particularly helpful from where she’s perched atop a smooth rock. She cleans her nails with the tip of a dagger and stretches her wings out around her.
Across the ring, Cassian watches and turns to Rhysand. “Why is she allowed to be here, but Y/N isn’t?”
Rhys shrugs his tense shoulders. He doesn’t know the answer.
The two of them step closer to where their brother is trying to breathe through his fury. He’s not coping so well.
See, Azriel has experience with missing things. He misses his mother all the time. Sometimes it’s a dull ache, manageable amongst the mundane comings and goings of life. Other times, it hurts so bad that he doesn’t think clawing his chest open would be too extreme a reaction. Missing a person is a sensation that knits itself under his skin and seeps into the marrow of his bones. It’s relentless and hideous.
Missing Y/N is a new kind of torture he never contemplated having to face.
It’s not just that he’s worried about where she is, whether or not she’s safe and well. It’s that he misses the silliest, tiniest things about her that he didn’t even know he’d ever noticed in the first damn place. The rapt determination with which she cuts the crusts off her bread because that’s a little too much bread for her. The way she gestures wildly with her hands whilst passionately talking about things. That ruined, tattered journal she carries around in which she scrawls blunt, one-sentenced, sometimes unintelligible thoughts. And her scent — gods, her scent.
It has been one week — an amount of time he’s spent away from her before. But it’s different this time. This isn’t like being away on a training exercise and knowing he’ll soon be coming home. He knows nothing. Doesn’t even know what to think, what to feel.
Other than an overt urge to murder the camp lord. Violently.
“How about we get done here and head to the mead hall?” Kaeda breaks through his warring thoughts. “I’m starved.”
Az grabs a nearby rag, wiping the sweat from his face. “Not really hungry.”
There’s a pause. And then a soft sigh leaves the female. She sheathes her blade and pushes to her feet, just as Rhys and Cassian are approaching. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, Azriel, but you can’t be visiting my father with this attitude.”
At once, this grabs the other two males’ interests, and Azriel wants to groan. Right. He’d forgotten about that.
“What’s this?” Rhys frowns, staring between Az and Kaeda. “You’re returning to Fenlaros?”
“My father invited Azriel to dine with us, that’s all.” Kaeda answers for him.
It had genuinely slipped Azriel’s mind. Amongst everything else waging war in his thoughts, a dinner with Kaeda’s family in Fenlaros had sunk right to the bottom.
But he knows immediately how it looks. That he’s being secretive.
Rhys studies Azriel closely. “And you’ve cleared this with Devlon?”
No, no he hadn’t. Quite simply, he’s not sure he can be within twenty feet of the bastard, right now, without throttling him.
He hates himself for it — he really, truly does. But for the sake of sparing himself a lecture, he shrugs. “I have.”
He does not lie to his brothers. And they can smell that lie on him right away.
Cassian stares at Kaeda for a long moment, before turning towards Az. “That is a fucking terrible idea, and you know it.”
“It’s dinner.” Kaeda shoots back.
Cass grits his teeth. “I’m talking to Azriel.”
“Listen, Cassian—”
“Excuse me—I’m sorry to interrupt.”
All four of them turn in the direction of the intrusion —and they stop short.
All three of the males know Vegha, of course. Rhys was grateful that she’d so willingly opened her home to Y/N when he’d asked. But other than that, they’ve only spoken to her in passing — she’s never had reason to seek them out before.
But what adds a slither of urgency to her rare appearance at the training rings is the even rarer appearance of the two little girls who hold her hands. They’re not supposed to be here, and Vegha knows this well.
She obviously deemed whatever this is urgent enough to bypass that rule.
“Vegha.” Azriel steps forward, studying her closely. “Is all well?”
Vegha shifts on her feet, clutching tighter onto the girls’ hands. She’s never comfortable here, around all these males, but it’s a different unwanted attention that makes her want to turn and leave.
Kaeda eyes her head to toe with a look of distaste. Of mistrust. She folds her arms and flares her wings — a gesture that has the little girls gasping.
“Settle down.” Vegha squeezes their hands. She directs her attention back to the males. Strange, that she feels more comfortable with them than she does with the only other female present. “Honestly, Azriel, I’m not at all sure.”
Rhys steps forward. “Is it Y/N?”
Cassian swears — swears — that a small sigh comes from behind him. From Kaeda.
“I know you’ve been instructed to stay away, and I don’t wish to cause you any trouble.” Vegha tells them. “It’s just…well, she was staying at my home this past week, as you asked, Rhysand. I told her she was welcome for as long as she needs — that she mustn’t return to her father’s house. But just this morning, she suddenly announced that she was leaving…that she’d found somewhere else to stay.”
“And?” The word slips from Kaeda’s lips.
Yeah, Cass definitely isn’t in the mood for this today.
“And…and I’m not sure I believe her.” Vegha shrugs slowly. “My brother wasn’t exactly making it a pleasant stay, and I think she was desperate to get out of there. But I can’t imagine where she’d go. I just…thought I should tell you. You know her better than I do.”
True — except her three closest friends can’t imagine where she’d go, either, if not back to her father’s house. And they can’t imagine her resorting to that.
She has no money for a room at an inn. She doesn’t have a long list of friends who will open their homes up to her. And she most certainly can’t go back to Rhys’s mother’s cottage.
So…where? Will she pitch up in one of the abandoned tents across the camp? Will she spend her nights shivering in doorways and wondering where her next meal is coming from?
This is fucking ridiculous.
She can’t be left to live like this.
“You did the right thing, telling us.” Rhys reassures Vegha. He offers a gentle, soft smile to the girls at her sides. “How about you take these two back into the warm? We’ll deal with it.”
Gods, he’s already a High Lord through and through. Calm in the face of turmoil. Not letting on to his inner panic.
Vegha dips her chin. “Sorry, again, for interrupting.” She tugs gently at the children’s’ hands. “Come, girls.”
Rhysand’s brow furrows. Vegha is perhaps the only other good friend Y/N has in this place. There’s no way she’s made other arrangements — Rhys knows it. Cassian knows it. Azriel knows it.
“We’ve got to do something.” Azriel voices what they’re all thinking, a feral panic colouring his tone. “We can’t just leave her to face this on her own. Fuck what Devlon says. I’m not sitting back and letting her freeze or starve to death.”
Rhys chews his lip. “…I can try to speak with my father. But I’m not hopeful where he’s concerned. This falls under Devlon’s jurisdiction.”
“All Y/N needs is a roof over her head and some food in her belly until we can work out what to do next.” Cassian crosses his arms over his chest. “There’s got to be some way we can help. Is there not any clue of where she might go?”
The two males are looking at Az expectantly. If anyone knows, it’s him.
But he’s just…he’s not had his eye on the ball recently. His thoughts are all over the place. Perhaps he’s neglected his friendships a little — because he could swear he knows Y/N inside and out, and yet his mind is blank. Utterly fucking blank.
“I—I need to think.” He runs a hand through his hair, turning — he stops at the flash of red hair that meets him. He’d forgotten Kaeda was even there.
She stares between them, saying nothing, her face pinched and arms crossed. What she’s thinking, Az isn’t sure. But a thought suddenly strikes him.
“Kaeda.” He faces her properly. “Can’t you house Y/N in Fenlaros for the time being? Until this is sorted?”
Kaeda stops short. Blinks at him. “…What?”
“It doesn’t have to be your home, or…or even anything extravagant. Just somewhere she can sleep. There are surely more options in Fenlaros than there are here.”
Kaeda does not like this one bit. A negative reaction is rippling off her in waves, and it hits Cassian like a blast of cold air. Rhys, too.
But Az seems oblivious.
“Azriel…” The female keeps her voice calm, measured. “You know it isn’t that easy. A person can’t just…defect to another camp.”
“She wouldn’t—”
“So what’s your excuse?” The words are falling from Cassian’s lips before he can stop himself. He’s not sure he cares.
Kaeda pauses. Her face is a sheet of wide-eyed innocence as she turns to him. “Pardon me?”
Cass shrugs one shoulder. “You’ve been buzzing around here for months like a fly. What’s your excuse, if that’s not allowed? Because your father may be Lord of Fenlaros, sweetheart, and he may let you do whatever you want, but look around you. This is Windhaven. His word doesn’t mean shit here.”
Azriel takes a step towards him. “Cassian—”
“Either help our friend, or stay the fuck out of it—”
“Cassian, that is enough—”
“It’s fine, Azriel.” Kaeda’s voice is so deceptively warm, you could melt butter on it. She steps towards Cassian, face open, hands held up in a placating manner. “It’s fine. You’re right. I understand you’re upset, and I…I apologise if my presence here has been burdensome. Of course I’ll help any way that I can. I’ll talk to my father right away.”
Cass doesn’t feel particularly satisfied by that. Doesn’t believe a fucking word, to be honest. His eyes communicate that as he stares the female up and down.
“Cass, I think you should apologise.” Azriel says.
He barks a laugh. “No chance.”
“Kaeda just said she’d help—”
“Enough.” Rhys finally jumps in. His tone is laced with authority — just a smidgen of an idea of what he might one day be like as High Lord. He crosses his arms and glares the three of them down as though they’re bickering younglings. “Arguing back and forth will do nothing to help Y/N. We need to act. I will speak to my father. Kaeda will speak to hers. Az, you should see if you can find out where Y/N might have gone. Cass, I want you making sure she doesn’t go anywhere near her fucking father’s house. By the end of the day, we should have at least sorted something. Understood?”
Cass doesn’t look away from Kaeda. He can see her eye twitching — the way she so desperately wants to push back against being ordered. Gods, how Az can’t see right through her, he has no clue—
“Understood.” Azriel answers without hesitation. “I’ll get right on it.”
Rhys inclines his head. “As will I.”
“And I’ll head back to Fenlaros.” Kaeda adds.
Cassian merely shrugs. “Fine.”
Without goodbyes, Azriel is shooting into the skies — probably hoping to get an aerial view of a sodden, freezing Y/N traipsing through the snow.
Rhys looks between Cassian and Kaeda for a beat longer before he disappears, winnowing — Cass assumes — straight to Velaris.
And then there were two.
Kaeda turns back to Cass. The doe-eyed look on her face is instantly gone. There’s a hint of a damn smirk.
“Whatever game you’re playing at,” Cassian clenches his jaw. “You will not win.”
A soft hiccup of a laugh escapes the redhead. “Oh, yes I will.” She steps closer. Close enough for her cotton-and-powder scent to envelop the male. “See, I always get what I want. Always.”
“Not this time. Azriel may not see you for the viper that you are, but I do.” He grits his teeth. “And I will fucking destroy you before you cause any damage.”
Green eyes glitter back at him. The female is unperturbed by the threat — and she knows he means it. There’s even a change in her scent that makes Cassian’s nostrils flare. A darker one. A muskier one.
“Oh, Cassian, I do hope so.” She says, and pushes up so her lips are at his ear. Her full breasts brush his chest. “I love a male who’s willing to punish me.”
She winnows away before the snarl has a chance to claw up Cassian’s throat.
✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
This is starting to feel like a bad idea.
It was easy, from the warmth and comfort of Vegha’s home, to convince yourself you’d be fine out amongst the wilds of the camp. But the old armoury is dark, dingy and cold, and within hours, you’re not sure you have the resolve for a single night there. Let alone however many you have ahead of you.
This used to be a place of mischief, when you and your friends were children. This far end of the camp has sat abandoned and unused for years, after newer, more effective training rings were installed where the hub of activity now lays. The four of you would spend days here, playing pretend with the old, wooden practice swords that were left behind. You’d make up stories of the area being haunted by the ghost of an ancient, disgruntled Camp Lord. And as you got older, it became a place to come and get drunk, to speak words and secrets that remained there, never to be carried away with you.
You won’t be bothered here, you know — nobody ventures this way. But that, and the fact that the old armoury affords you a roof over your head, are about the only positives. You’re so cold that it hurts. You’re hungry and miserable and tired in a way that has nothing to do with nightmare-filled sleeps.
And gods, you miss your friends. You miss them so much, it‘s a gnawing ache. All those nights you took for granted, tucked up warm in the cottage, Cassian making you all laugh with his antics. Those times seem so distant, now. Is this how it will be, from now on? Never did you think you’d be separated from your friends. And you don’t even know if this is a permanent thing. Will you have to wait and wait until Rhysand is High Lord and able to make decisions, before you can see them again?
These thoughts will do you no good. They’ll only make you colder and drive you to shed tears that you’re not sure you have the energy to shed.
You bundle in your blanket, squeezing your eyes shut as though that fruitless act will shield you from the cold. You were tempted to build a fire, but the last thing you want is to draw attention from anyone flying above. Being found in here will just bring you more trouble you don’t need.
You’re already hunched as it is, gloved hands buried under your armpits — but you somehow manage to tense even more when you hear the distinct sound of boots traipsing through the snow outside.
No.
You can’t do this — not right now. Nobody fucking comes here. Is the Mother laughing at you from above and sprinkling more misfortune into your already-dire existence? You can’t handle a confrontation, can’t handle being told you can’t stay here—
But the door creaks open, and it’s Azriel’s face that peers around cautiously. You almost sob with relief.
“Thank fuck.” He breathes. He’s slipping inside, shutting the door behind him. In a few great strides, he’s in front of you and dropping to his knees. “Are you alright?”
If you speak, you might crack. You risk it all the same. “How did you find me?”
“Took me a while to think of this place, I must admit. It’s been a long while since we were last here.”
But find you, he did. And fuck, his scent and natural warmth are swarming you. It feels like nothing else matters right then. Just you and him, like it’s always been. He yanks you into a hug, and you don’t stop him.
“You’re frozen.” He whispers, squeezing you. His gloved hands rub at your arms, your back, your shoulders. He pulls away to cup your face, and he studies every inch of it. You’re not sure what for.
But you stare back. You don’t know what to do or say. That could be the cold making it difficult to think, or it could be this weird wedge between you that feels like it’s only growing.
Az leans closer, and he presses his forehead against yours. “I miss you.” His gloves brush over your cheeks. “Gods, I miss you. So much.”
“I miss you, too.” You shudder. The words are weighty and truthful, not just referring to this past week apart, but to whatever has been going on for a while, now. You didn’t mean for it to be like this. You just want to go back to how it was.
“I’ve thought about nothing else—” His nose bumps against yours, and one of his hands slides to the nape of your neck, kneading the skin there. “I just—just need you close to me, Y/N. Always.”
You attempt a breathy laugh. “I don’t think Devlon would agree with that.”
“Fuck, Devlon. We’re going to get around this. Rhys is going to talk to his father, and even if that fails, Kaeda is talking to hers. I reckon they’ll be able to offer you sanctuary in Fenlaros until this is sorted—”
You pull back to blink at him. Study him. “What?”
“I asked Kaeda to speak with her father on your behalf. To see if they can find somewhere for you to stay. I’m sure they can—”
“Azriel, I’m not going to Fenlaros.”
He pauses. “…If they’ll have you, Y/N, yes you are. It means you’ll be safe and warm and fed—”
“No.”
“What? Why?”
“Besides the fact that I’m already in enough trouble thanks to that place?” You pull away from him, easing to your feet. “I don’t know anyone there. And if Devlon were to find out—”
“Stop worrying about Devlon and start worrying about your safety.” Azriel, too, stands. “It’s the most logical thing.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Y/N.”
“I’m not going further away from you than I already am, and I’m especially not going to start playing house with your lover, Azriel, it’s odd—”
“That’s what this is about?” He cocks an eyebrow. Folds his arms. “Because you don’t want to accept help from Kaeda?”
You shrug. And just…just to give your body something to do, you begin pacing. “I’m not sure it would be very helpful at all.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“No, I’m not.”
“You just don’t like her, do you?” He snaps. The sound is harsh, and it makes you grit your teeth. “You’re not willing to accept help that you so clearly fucking need, because you don’t like Kaeda.”
“I don’t trust Kaeda.” You whirl around to face him. “Not one fucking bit, and you shouldn’t, either.”
“Why?”
“Because none of it makes sense! Why is she here in Windhaven, Azriel? What is it she actually wants?”
It’s dangerous — the way your voices are rising in volume and echoing around the armoury. But it’s as though weeks of emotional buildup are floating to the surface, and you can’t stop them, and they’re stoking an anger that actually warms you and feels better than being cold and hungry.
Azriel shakes his head. “You’re fucking impossible sometimes, you know that? You don’t want to help yourself. It’s like you’re determined to make your life as difficult as possible, and when you’re offered help, you don’t take it. You’re impossible!”
“Yeah, Azriel, maybe I am.” You snap back. “But at least I’m not lying through my teeth like Kaeda is, and at least I don’t break my damn promises.”
Azriel stops short. Stares at you.
You and he both know you’re referring to Solstice Night. You should have confronted it before, but…but you buried it.
You’re not sure you can do that anymore.
Azriel purses his lips. And then has the nerve to state, “Things are different between you and I these days.”
“Yes.” You stare back at him. “They are.”
Your eyes are trying to communicate so much. Things are different, and it might be the boundaries you crossed, but you’re more certain than anything that it’s Kaeda’s influence. You just don’t understand why Azriel can’t see it.
You wonder what he might say yet. So much anger and pent-up frustration zips between you. Mixed with longing and missing each other. Loving each other. Wanting to scream at each other, and for each other.
And part of you wants him to spit vicious words and fight back, just for you to feel something — even though you know that’s not Azriel’s style. But you stare and stare, and neither of you speak, and then Az is shaking his head and clenching his jaw.
“I’m not arguing with you here.” He says. “It’ll only draw attention to us.”
You fold your arms. “Fine.”
“I’m going to speak to Rhys, find out what his father said. And I’ll speak to Kaeda—”
“Go right ahead. I’m still not stepping foot back in Fenlaros—”
“And I’ll bring you some blankets and food. Or Cassian will. Or…whatever.” He stops still for a second, swallowing. “But we need to fix this shit between us.”
You know that. But you’re so fucking stubborn, your own worst enemy. And right then, you want to scream. Cry. Hurt him how he hurt you.
So you say nothing. You just shrug again.
He stares, as if waiting for a better reaction. And then he shakes his head once more and turns, striding back to the door. You wonder if it’s a bad thing to let him go, like this. When will you see him again? How will things be when you see him again? You’re making it worse for yourself, for him, for both of you.
You open your mouth — to say what, you’re not sure. But you’re stopped by Az pausing with his hand on the doorknob. With his back to you, his shoulders tense. He’s frozen in place.
And then he speaks — growls — two words. “Fuck this.”
He turns, marching back over to you so fast, you don’t have time to react.
And then he’s grabbing your face, and his mouth is on yours.
azriel tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd
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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
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here i go again
pairing: cassian x reader x azriel
summary: your half of the bond snaps and you’re faced with a choice.
word count: 4.7k
warnings: more of cass’s inner monologue speckled with az and reader’s thoughts as well, some brief mentions of sexual content!, angst angst angst
a/n: i truly was not planning on writing a part two but the love that everyone has shown me on the first part has inspired me :’) ty everyone for making my first fic posting so memorable; ALSO because i’m a sucker for happy endings, i will be writing an alternate ending for this story that is not as angsty i promise
(banners by @/cafekitsune!)
part one
When the bond first snapped, Cassian had initially tried to continue on as normal, engaging in his usual banter and friendly affection that your relationship ordinarily dictated. But as the days stretched into weeks and then months, he wasn’t sure he could keep a lid on his emotions for any longer.
Six months, normally a small blip of time in a near-immortal’s life, felt like an eternity. Six months of picking up the scraps of his broken heart was torture of the purest kind. Six months of clinging to every ounce of affection you offered him, playing it over and over in his mind to placate the urges the mating bond so desperately wanted satisfied.
Occasionally, he’d gently tug on that golden string tethering him to you, but he’d be met with an endless, empty void; the bond hadn’t snapped for you. And maybe it never would, Cassian caught himself thinking more times than he’d like. Maybe your love for Azriel was so powerful it overshadowed anything that the mating bond could offer you.
Azriel was your chosen mate and maybe no Cauldron-born matchmaking could override your unyielding loyalty and dedication to the male you spent the last twelve years loving.
Maybe Cassian was destined for loneliness in perpetuity, forced to watch his mate – the one person he loved more than life itself – live in immortality with someone who was not him.
The night of Starfall, Cassian had taken your advice and met Feyre’s friend, a beautiful high fae female who had become a regular at Feyre’s studio. They’d hit it off that night, and eventually spent the night tangled beneath the sheets of Cassian’s massive bed.
And while Cassian couldn’t deny the charming allure and beauty of this female, she wasn’t you. He wanted her, absolutely he did, and it wasn’t like he hadn’t slept with others in the past while his heart belonged truly to you. But it was like the mating bond had imprisoned his desire, reserving it for the one person who could satiate it.
He couldn’t even finish that night, and an ugly mix of humiliation, guilt, and disappointment swirled in his gut for the next few days, even as his one time lover graciously accepted his onslaught of apologies and assured him it was alright, that it happens, that she wasn’t offended. Through it all the bond was screaming at him.
Wrong, wrong, this was all wrong.
Cassian quickly disposed of the notion that he could just ignore the bond after that night. If sex and distraction were going to do nothing to keep his desperate need for you at bay, Cassian was forced to find alternative means for managing this newfound revelation.
And so, despite the brief moments of hope the snapping of the mating bond sparked in him, Cassian resolved to continue his journey of getting over you. Admittedly, though, it was becoming increasingly more difficult, as if the bond was becoming impatient and was spurring him to make bolder and bolder moves towards you.
But Cassian was nothing if not respectful and he couldn’t ever imagine telling you of the bond and forcing your hand to choose between him and his brother. So, he slowly titrated his daily dosage of you, gradually spending less time with and around you in an effort to relieve himself of the aching pain of his longing. He was mindful of his words and actions, not wanting to clue you in to the raging conflict between his mind and his heart; he disguised his purposeful avoidance of you with excuses that he had suddenly become overwhelmingly busy.
It was a tactic he knew wouldn’t last for long, but it might give him enough time to figure out what he should do next.
But ever the keen observer – having picked up a thing or two from spending so much time with the Spymaster of the Night Court – you noticed the change, however slight, in Cassian’s behavior. At first, you had fallen for his ploy; with newborn fatherhood forcing Rhys to be partially out of commission, it made sense that Azriel and Cassian had been busier than usual.
As Nyx grew, however, and both Feyre and Rhys were more adjusted to life with a child, Rhys had resumed his usual duties – but Cassian was still busy as ever.
It only took one passing comment from Azriel for you to begin perseverating on the idea that maybe Cassian was avoiding you. Az had confided in you once about Cassian’s constant denial of his invitations to spend some time together despite the arsenal of ideas that Azriel threw at him.
Drinks at Rita’s? No... A flight around Velaris? No. Lunch with Rhys? No. Training? No.
Azriel lamented that every conversation ended with Cassian hastily making an excuse to exit; it wasn’t like him, and it was beginning to get concerning.
So, you decided to test the theory yourself.
It was a lot more difficult getting Cassian alone than you thought it would be, which was strange in and of itself. Your past with him had lent itself to many occasions where you’d find yourself alone with Cassian on an errand, training, eating meals. But lately, it was like Cassian was a ghost, disappearing as soon as you had your sights on him, seemingly vanishing out of existence before you could even mutter a greeting. It seemed like everywhere you were, Cassian had pressing business elsewhere.
(Once you had walked into the kitchen, and Cassian had left in the middle of making himself a meal, mumbling something about Rhys needing his help, his half cut vegetables abandoned on the counter.)
You had every intention of cornering him with Azriel’s help, but before you could execute your sneaky plan to ambush him during training, you quite literally bumped into him on your way from the library to the dining room; clearly, he hadn’t anticipated that you’d interrupt your usual perusal of the House’s libraries to make yourself a snack.
Cassian fumbled for words, flustered and taken aback at the suddenness of your presence, still unused to the heightened feeling of his emotions around you.
You were about to interrupt his awkward stumbling, but a feeling so visceral, so outrageously all-consuming flooded every nerve in your body and you felt like you would collapse onto the floor. It was like the world had suddenly decided to start spinning in the other direction, scrambling your sensibilities, and the only thing tethering you to your reality was a thin golden string that led you directly to Cassian.
Cassian was your mate? And by the feel of it, the bond had already snapped for him who knows how long ago. Why did he not say anything? How long had he known? What the fuck?
The questions repeated themselves incessantly in your mind before you had the wherewithal to erect the strongest mental shields you could as you made flimsy excuses for why you needed to leave. Funny how, as soon as you had the opportunity to speak to Cassian alone, you were the one spinning white lies to explain your sudden departure.
If Cassian had felt your awareness on his side of the bond, he didn’t let on, only stared bemused after your retreating figure.
You wound through the maze of hallways in the House with such precision that you had to have set a record for how quickly you made your way from the dining room to Azriel’s study; you hadn’t even meant to go there, body habitually routing its way to your lover in moments of distress.
Azriel.
Your heart twisted painfully at the thought of him, and you contemplated not telling him or Cassian that you had felt a bond whip into place. But you knew that would be a disservice to all parties involved in this sadistic twist of events.
You would talk to Cassian, have a discussion, figure out what this meant for your friendship and his and Azriel’s brotherhood, but you needed to collect yourself and unscramble the tangled web of thoughts knotted in your mind before you did any of that. You needed to talk to Azriel.
You stood outside his study with your forehead pressed to the door, not yet having the courage to open it.
In the past twelve years you’d been in a relationship with the Shadowsinger, you had many conversations exploring the what if’s of your future. The notion of the mating bond snapping between you and someone else – or him and someone else – had been something you both considered. Neither of you were naive enough to assume that it would be as simple as just choosing each other – what with the intensity of the mating bond – but neither of you really thought that it would happen either, often just assuming that it would snap between the two of you in due time.
You had been so incredibly enamored with each other since the day you met; everything had fallen so beautifully into place that it had been easy to throw all caution to the wind and fall helplessly in love. Mating bond be damned.
You knew that if a bond had snapped between you and anyone else, the choice would be simple. You and Azriel prepared for something like this — the swirling lines of complementary ink on both of your torsos had been proof of that — but never did either of you consider that it would involve the one other person that you both loved almost as much as you loved each other.
You had a long history with Cassian, and though nothing romantic had ever occurred between you, somehow the choice was now infinitely more impossible. It wasn’t difficult to admit that you loved Cassian, you knew him and cherished him for as long as you could remember. But could you love him in the way that the mating bond demanded? Could you love him in the way that he deserved?
Those were questions that you couldn’t answer, too confused as you contemplated the implications of your mate being someone you loved in an entirely different way than you loved Azriel.
So you opened the door to Azriel’s study, seeking safety and refuge with the one person who could help you make sense of this impossible predicament.
One look at you standing in the doorway told Azriel all he needed to know. The time he prayed would never come was finally here. The knit of your eyebrows and the quiver in your lip shattered his usually calm countenance as he tried to ignore the overwhelming feeling of dark uncertainty settling in his chest.
The sad, resigned smile that he gave you as he sat at his desk made tears well up in your eyes. You felt guilty and confused and so, so horrible, wondering what must be running through his mind as he looked at you, understanding intuitively that you had found your mate.
And that it wasn’t him.
You wanted to soothe the fears that were so clearly written all over his face, but you couldn’t find the words, afraid that if you opened your mouth nothing but nonsensical blubbering would come out. But you needed to say something, to explain the overly complicated cocktail of emotions roiling in your gut.
However, before you could even begin to string together a coherent sentence, he crossed the room in three long strides, resting his palm against your cheek as his thumb ran a soothing path back and forth across your skin. Azriel leaned down to kiss away the tears that had escaped before pulling your head into his chest.
The comforting warmth of the body you knew so well worked wonders on your nerves, your mind already clearing itself enough to tame some of the turmoil that had overtaken your consciousness. You allowed yourself to focus only on the feel of the strong planes of his body against yours, losing yourself in the luxury of his embrace.
“It’s Cassian,” you said after a few long minutes.
Though your words were muffled into the fabric of his shirt, Azriel had heard them loud and clear. He almost laughed at the sheer atrocity of it all; how could the Cauldron be so spiteful? You — the greatest love he’s ever known — and Cassian — his brother in all but blood — were mates.
He felt as though the Mother had taken Truthteller and carved a path through his chest, leaving him to piece together the vestiges of his heart after she had stolen you from it. But he wouldn’t let himself fall apart, not when you were so clearly in need of his unwavering stability.
“Does he know?” Azriel cursed the way his voice betrayed him; it sounded so small as it broke over each syllable of his question.
You tightened your arms around his waist, anchoring yourself to the steady thrum of his familiar heartbeat, “Sort of. It’s snapped for him, but I don’t think he’s realized that I know yet.”
Your words hung in the air, heavy and somber. Neither of you said anything, only holding each other as a gentle breeze wafted through Azriel’s open windows. You wondered again what must have been going through his mind, wondered if he was as scared and sad and torn as you were. By the way his fingers trembled almost imperceptibly as his hand ran up and down the length of your spine, you concluded that he was.
Azriel wanted to stay like this forever, savor the moments before either of you had to make a decision. Infinite possibilities raced through his mind, and his heart warred with itself.
He loved you — gods, did he love you — but he also loved Cassian. Knew that Cassian was an honorable male, had a suspicion for years that Cassian loved you the same way that he did. But even then, Azriel wanted to be selfish. Wanted to beg you to choose him because if you didn’t he wasn’t sure what would happen to him.
You had been his lifeline since the day he met you; he didn’t think it was possible to love and be loved the way you had shown him, and he greedily didn’t want to live a life without it.
But he loved you so fiercely that your happiness was paramount, your decision to choose for yourself was of utmost importance and, arguably, was the only thing that mattered in this moment. Azriel couldn’t help but think, though, that you deserved the love and connection of a mate, deserved the love he’d seen blossom beautifully between Rhys and Feyre, and if that meant you’d leave him, then he was glad it would be for Cassian.
“I don’t know what to do,” came your small, rasped confession. You pulled your head away from his chest to look up at him, eyes glassy with unshed tears, “Tell me what to do, Az.”
He gave you that sad smile again (and you quickly decided you hated that you were the cause of this forlorn look of his), his scarred hand coming up to tame the wisps of hair that had clung to your forehead, “I can’t, love.”
After a beat he added, “I think you should tell him, though. Soon. He deserves to know, and you both deserve the chance to…talk about it.”
You knew what he was dancing around saying, knew that he meant he would let you go if you decided that you wanted this mateship with Cassian rather than what you had with him. That it was all in your hands, and entirely your decision. Your heart twisted painfully as you were confronted with the bottomless depth of Azriel’s love for you; he would sacrifice his love and happiness for yours without contest.
“Az…”
“You have me,” he started again, his hazel eyes burning into yours with such unwavering loving conviction you were glad his arms were around you to keep your knees from buckling. “No matter what you choose, you have me. Mating bond or not, I’m yours. If you want to see where things go with Cassian, you should. I’d wait for you…even if you decided you’d never come back to me, I'd wait.”
His heartfelt confession made another round of tears burn your eyes as you nodded. You cradled his neck, pulling him down to kiss him. Both of you savored the familiar feel of your lips moving together in a practiced dance.
“I love you.”
Azriel knew you meant it; even if you chose to explore your newfound mating bond, knew that nothing could ever take from him the parts of yourself you allowed him the privilege of loving. And so he said it back, insistently ignoring the gnawing worry that it would be the last time.
It wasn’t that much of a shock when Cassian felt you tug oh-so-tentatively on the bond the week after he ran into you in the dining room. He had immediately noticed your shift in demeanor, the heat creeping up your cheeks as you made a beeline out of the room despite having just entered. He had felt something change on his end of the bond the moment your skirts brushed past him in your rush to exit. The bond had finally snapped for you, but he couldn’t reach you, your consciousness locked behind steel-reinforced shields.
A rush of conflicting emotion had erupted in Cassian’s chest at the realization, and it took every ounce of self discipline he had to not chase you down. He knew you would need time, would probably want to tell Azriel before anything else, so he waited and ignored the incessant nagging of the bond to seek you out. He would do this right, would leave the decision entirely up to you despite his overwhelming desire for you to choose him.
Truthfully, Cassian didn’t think that you’d open up on your end so soon after it had snapped, and he tried not to read too much into what that could mean. Instead, when he felt that gentle pulse from you beneath his ribcage, he tugged back in acknowledgement.
Cass…?
Your voice flooded every inch of his head and it was sheer bliss to feel you so intimately intertwined with his mind.
Hey, you.
He replied, heart thundering so loudly he worried that you’d hear it.
Can we talk? Meet on the balcony near the library? Maybe in an hour?
Cassian had never been so anxious, had never been so uncertain and nervous and excited in his life. Regardless of what happened — of what you said — he just wanted to see you. His avoidance of you these past few months was nothing short of torture, and just the thought of being near you again in a way that meant something sent Cassian’s entire being into a new plane of happiness.
Wouldn’t miss it, sweetheart.
You didn’t reply, but he felt you send a wave of fondness and appreciation towards him; Cassian felt like a starved man who had just been offered a loaf of bread.
He had intended on getting at least a little bit of work done in the hour before he was set to meet you, but Cassian found his mind drifting to thoughts of you as he flew around the perimeter of Velaris, running through scenario after scenario that could happen. His excitement was overshadowed by the looming possibility that you would reject the bond, and just the thought of it sent bile churning in his gut.
Cassian knew how much love existed between you and Azriel, had seen firsthand how much you both had committed yourselves to each other. Part of him felt guilty; Azriel was his brother and he didn’t want to be the thing that stood in Az’s way of keeping the love that everyone knew he deserved and that you so willingly provided. Cassian’s mind was twisting circles around itself as he thought about how this would end. Because while Azriel loved you, so did Cassian. And he would be a fool to give up so easily on the opportunity to show you just how much you meant to him, how much he adored you.
Before Cassian could make any headway in finding a solution for this impossible situation, it was time for him to meet you. So, Cassian fluttered his wings and made his way towards the House.
You were already standing on the balcony when he landed, pacing as you alternated between worrying your bottom lip with your teeth and biting your nails. Even with confusion marring your features, the golden hour light of the sun encased you in such warmth, that you glowed luminescent, and he wanted to freeze this moment and remember it forever.
Cassian tamed the urge to kiss the worry away from your raw, swollen lips and massage the crease out from between your brows, and instead said, “Hey.”
You looked up at him and stole the breath straight from his lungs with the radiance of your smile, though dimmed no doubt by the anxiety that plagued you.
“Cass,” you started, soft and the slightest bit hesitant. “Hi.”
An awkward silence that never existed between you two settled in the air now, neither of you wanting to be the one to broach the subject you knew tormented you both day and night. You had almost backed out of having this conversation three times within the past hour, but you knew that it needed to be done. For all of your sakes.
“We’re mates,” you said, and Cassian didn’t miss the way your statement sounded half like a question, as if you still couldn’t wrap your head around the notion. He nodded, stating more definitively, “We’re mates.”
Again, another silence permeated the too large space between you and Cassian thought he’d hurl himself off the ledge of the balcony to avoid the palpable awkwardness of it all. This certainly wasn’t what he pictured in his mind when you both finally had the conversation about your mateship.
You cleared your throat stiffly, not quite meeting his eyes as a cute blush betrayed your serious countenance, “I’m not really sure what to do, Cass. I’ve been thinking about this nonstop for the past week and…I just don’t– I don’t know what to do. I really just–”
Cassian aptly noted the way your emotions showed so clearly on your face. Maybe it was because he could also feel you unwittingly sending them down the bond, but he could tell that your stuttering and frantic fumbling for words was wrought from a week’s worth of anxiety and spinning your thoughts over and over in your mind, probably similar to the way that he had been doing for the past six months. He hated thinking that you felt even a fraction of the confusion and pain that he had endured for the past half a year.
Slowly, in the face of your pain stricken confusion, Cassian's resolve to fight for your affections was crumbling.
Your eyes finally met his, and the glassy sheen of tears that marred their usual clarity made Cassian’s heart lurch; how he wished you would never look at him with such an anguished expression on your face.
“I care about you, Cassian. I care about you so, so much,” you said, and he knew you meant it. He saw it in the way your brows twisted together in earnest and the way your fists clenched at your sides determinedly. He could feel the conflict storming beneath your ribs and wanted to do everything he could to chase it away, make it so that you never faced uncertainty for the rest of your days. But he let you continue, his pulse thundering so loudly he almost couldn’t hear you over the rush of his own blood.
“I just–” you trailed off then, unable to voice your thoughts as they were a tangled mess roiling around in your head, ricocheting off the walls of your skull.
What were you even going to say? You thought you had made a decision, thought you would tell him that you couldn’t accept the bond, that you could never leave Azriel like this. But one look at Cassian and the hope he so desperately tried to mask in his eyes left you floundering, the mating bond begging you not to sever it, not to hurt Cassian. You didn’t expect to be at such an impasse; how were you supposed to choose between instinct and desire? Love and connection? Weren’t they all one in the same anyway? But if they were, how could they be split between the two most important people in your life? What a cruel, cruel fate you all had been subjected to.
Cassian watched as you puzzled through your thoughts, and his desire to ease your worry spurred him to action. He knew the decision would tear you apart, would obliterate not only your relationship with Azriel, but his too, even though he knew Azriel would never hold something like this against either of you. But Cassian loved you both too much to tip the scales in his favor at the cost of ruining his family, of hurting you, of forcing you to make an impossible decision and living with the regret of hurting them both.
So, he chose for you. Despite the way that his heart screamed at him, begged him not to reject the bond, he did anyway. He used every ounce of self control he had to hold himself together and remind himself over and over again that this was the right decision. The future with you that Cassian so desperately wanted was a hair’s breadth away, and for a few precious seconds he allowed himself to sit in the bliss of the in-between, pretending that his next words would be I love you instead of—
“I don’t think we should do this, Y/N,” he said, forcing his voice not to shake, his eyes not to water with the pain of pushing you away. “Maybe…maybe the Cauldron got it wrong.”
He hoped he sounded more convincing than he felt. Because how could the Cauldron get it wrong when being near you, loving you felt so right?
The look you gave him at his words was a mixture of relief and…something else that he couldn’t place. Was it disappointment? Regret?
Cassian didn’t let himself dwell on it further because if he did, and if he convinced himself that he saw even a glimmer of disappointment at his rejection in your eyes, he’d take everything back and say fuck it, I love you, give me a chance. So he averted his gaze as you took his hand, iron willpower crumbling at the sweet euphoria that filled his chest at your touch.
“Cassian,” you rarely used his full name, but you did now and he looked up at you and into your eyes. When he finally met your gaze again, you pulled him into a wonderfully tight hug, “Thank you. I– thank you.”
Despite the searing sting your words left on his heart, Cassian let himself pretend that you were his for the last time as he reveled in your embrace, holding you so steadily, so delicately that if you didn’t know he loved you before, you must have known now.
You pulled away after a few moments but kept him close, holding his face in your hands as your thumbs brushed the apples of his cheeks, eyes searching his face in earnest, “You know I’ll always love you right, Cass?”
You knew it was a cruel and selfish thing to say to him, especially because you could feel the echo of his true feelings down the bond that was slowly, painfully weakening at Cassian’s unwanted rejection. But you needed him to know, needed him to understand more than anything that your love for him transcended the romantic and was existing in a plane reserved solely for him. You wanted him to know that you couldn’t ever thank him or repay him for his sacrifice born out of pure unadulterated love for you; you only wished you could do the same for him.
Briefly, you concluded that — in an alternate universe, another life — Cassian would have loved you with a ferocity that put the heat of the sun to shame. But in this life, you couldn’t tear your heart away from Azriel; your love for him was built on the foundational elements of trust and choice, and you would pick him time and time again.
In this life, you would be greedy and accept Cassian’s sacrifice of his own love for yours, and you would damn well make sure it was worth it.
As if he could read your thoughts — and maybe he could now — he nodded and pulled you in again with a parting kiss to your forehead.
“I know," he said, closing his eyes and leaning in to your touch, savoring the fleeting moments that you had been so close to being his, telling himself that he was grateful for the love that you would offer him, even if it wasn't in the way he so desperately desired. "I know."
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Our Marriage Bed
Azriel x Reader
Word count: 5k
Synopsis: Azriel is slowly going insane wanting you, having difficulty differentiating between dreams and wakefulness. One night his dream carries over and he tries to get it on with you.
Warnings: Slightly darker sexual themes. Unclear beginning/end of wakefulness. Light choking, rough sex. Azzy being mean.
a/n: dedicated to my darling @tadpolesonalgae. Can be read alone, but part 2 to Company of Phantoms
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Azriel couldn’t recall the last time in his five centuries he felt this much raw contentment. He was sitting in your room, waiting. Since that night you’d invited him to share your bed, a door had been opened. A friendship, he supposed, though friendship was a pathetic encapsulation for the trove of feelings he kept barely buried beneath the surface. The more nights he spent with you, the more the lines blurred between the boundaries of this arrangement. As did the boundaries of his sanity, but who was he to complain when he got to sleep in your arms night after night?
He basked in your space, illuminated by a warm glow. Your scent lingered in the sheets. Your books spilling secrets of your intellect on the shelves. Your music taste contained in the Symphonia on your dresser. Little pockets of you for Azriel to satiate himself with.
Azriel caught himself nodding off on the bed when the doorknob turned, and he straightened. Wordlessly, you walked right to him, a privilege he was yet to grow accustomed to. “Y/N,” he breathed as you sat right before him. You brought your hand to his chest, running it down his sternum, catching the skip in his heart. Azriel felt his last dregs of tiredness dissipate. Were you about to kiss him?
“Y/N—”
“Azriel,” you purred like a song.
He couldn’t breathe as your lips grazed his cheek, trailing to the corner of his mouth.
“Azriel.”
“Yes.”
“I have to tell you something.” Again, that dreamy drawl. He swallowed, waiting. But you only moved to trail your lips to his other cheek, shifting closer so your breasts pressed against his chest. Traced your mouth to his ear, letting your breath fan across his ear. There, you only whispered, Azriel.
Azriel.
“Azriel?”
Azriel snapped awake.
Fuck.
You stood next to him—next to the armchair, where he’d—
He looked around. Not in your bed. His cheeks heated. You hadn’t been—touching him, hadn’t tried to—
“Sorry for taking so long,” you spoke softly. Not in that echoey chant.
“That’s okay,” he said. Just a dream.
You only smiled sweetly at him. “Did you want to sleep here again, baby?”
Baby. God, you were killing him.
Azriel only nodded. You bit your lip apprehensively. How you managed to call him pet names and sleep next to him but still blush at the suggestion had him huffing a laugh. He reached out, gently clasping your forearms, tugging you down. You gasped, bracing your hands on his chest, landing into his lap. Azriel bit back his twin surprise at his brazenness, but when you leaned closer, he relaxed into the indulgence.
He wrapped his arms around your waist, and you wrapped yours around his shoulders. Azriel buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in. “Missed you,” he mumbled.
“I missed you too, Azzy.”
Azriel knew he was growing too reliant on you—could feel his discipline crumbling more each day he got to have you while not quite having you.
You gently pulled your arms back over his shoulders to leverage yourself off his chest, and Azriel loosened his grip around your waist, happy to lazily hold you. He watched you expectantly. You cocked your head to the side, and Azriel copied you, making you laugh.
“Let’s go to bed,” you said. “You already fell asleep.”
Azriel shook his head. “I wasn’t.”
You rolled your eyes, hauling off his lap. “I saw you, Az.”
He stood, letting you pull him to bed. “I saw you,” he murmured. You’d touched his chest the same way then, too. In dream and wake.
You gave a confused laugh, shaking your head, pulling the sheets back with one hand while he held your other. The words marriage bed crossed his mind before he suppressed the thought.
Once you’d both settled in, Azriel reached for your hand beneath the sheets, feeling his drowsiness return. He focused on the sensation of your gentle strokes across his hand. “What was it that you wanted to tell me?”
“Hm?”
“You said you had to tell me something,” he muttered.
“No, baby, I don’t think I did.”
He wasn’t sure why you’d change your mind so quickly. He knew he was asking too much of you, but he could not bear to pull back. “Can I touch you?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
Azriel snaked his arm beneath your shoulders, hauling you to his chest. “This okay?”
“Yes, honey,” you breathed, eyes closed. “Take whatever you want.”
“Thank you for taking care of me.”
“Mhm.”
“Now I can’t sleep without you,” he whispered, stroking down your arms.
You only huffed a sleepy laugh.
“Look what you’ve done to me.”
“Sorry, Azzy,” you mumbled. He could feel your soft smile against his collarbones.
Azriel savoured your warmth, pressing you even tighter against him. It was never enough. He always wanted more of you.
You twitched in your sleep, prompting him to soothe down your arms. But instead of settling down, you suddenly pushed your body more firmly against his. Azriel’s mind quieted fully when you extended a leg across his hips. He itched to trace the soft skin of your thighs. But it felt—it was too much, wasn’t it?
You’d told him to take what he wanted—invited him to share your bed each night, but surely, he shouldn’t—
You sighed in your sleep, a pretty sound. But you were suddenly moving again. Tracing a hand up and down his chest. Up to his throat, dragging your fingernails gently down the column, bringing Azriel fully into alertness again.
The leg thrown across his middle stretched further forward as you slowly dragged yourself atop him. He braced his hands on your hips as you seated yourself on his lap Were you—was this—
“Y/N?” he whispered.
“Azriel,” you sighed.
“Yes?” he breathed. He’d take anything you gave. He’d been right about earlier—you’d wanted him.
“I have to tell you something,” you whispered.
Your knees bracketed either side of his waist, pressing your hips more firmly to his own. Balancing your hands on his lower abdomen, Azriel’s breath hitched.
You ground down against him. Once, then stilled. It was enough for Azriel to feel blood coursing where your bodies met. Then, again. A delicate drag of your core against him. He couldn’t help the glide of his hands from your hips to your thighs, where the fabric of your nightgown had exposed them for his pleasure.
He clasped the underside of your thighs, revelled in the movement as you dragged yourself a third time against his growing hardness. Azriel groaned.
You were straddling him perfectly. You fit perfectly. He remained still, watching to see what you’d do next—prayed there’d be a next.
Lust clouded his brain, making it hard to lay still beneath you as you stared down at him. He wanted nothing more than to grind you against him again, to bury himself inside you.
You only stroked your hands up his torso as you bent over him languidly, arching onto his torso to pepper kisses along his jaw. Your breasts pressed firmly against him. When you moved your hips against his again, kissing his neck, he turned to whisper in your ear. “You’ll give me what I want?”
“Yes, Azriel.”
He let himself grind up against you. “Anything I want?”
“Anything,” you breathed. He could hear the smile on your lips. When you made him groan again, you giggled, a wicked sound. You kissed your way to his mouth, but before reaching his lips, you lifted off his chest, returning to your previous straddle. You smiled down at the panting mess you’d made of him. “I wanted to tell you something,” you murmured airily.
Right.
“Tell me, pretty girl,” he rasped, stroking up and down your thighs.
You leaned back down, and against his lips, you whispered. “Azriel.”
“Yes.”
“Azriel.”
“Yes.”
“I want you to make me your bride.”
Azriel wholly stilled.
You only grazed your lips against his. “Make me your bride.”
He couldn’t breathe.
“Azriel.”
Azriel.
“Azriel?”
He blinked.
You’d moved off his lap, still hovering over him, a hand on his chest. The air was suddenly colder, seemingly darker than a moment ago.
How did you get off him so fast?
Too far away.
He was still panting, but you were taking him in with a calmer reception. Azriel sat up to meet you where you were, hands immediately going to your waist, tugging you firmly to his chest. You gasped, bracing your hands against his shoulders.
He kissed the smooth warmth of your neck, felt your pulse quicken beneath his lips.
“Azriel,” you breathed. He only grunted in response. You wanted him, and that was all he wanted. He thoroughly enjoyed the high-pitched tone he put in your voice. “Azzy.”
“Yes.” He kept kissing your neck, making his way to your shoulders, your collarbones.
“Did—did you have another nightmare?”
“No, baby, I didn’t,” he spoke against your skin. Even softer than it was a moment ago. Warmer, somehow. He continued his path, memorizing the hitch in your breath.
“Azzy,” you spoke again, stroking gently down his arms. “What are you doing?”
“Giving you what you asked for.”
You said nothing but didn’t stop your gentle caress down his arms.
“You said I can take what I want,” he ground out.
“Yes, honey, but—”
“I want to give you what you asked for,” he said.
“And what’s that?”
Azriel lifted onto his knees, caging your body. He turned you, guiding you to lay beneath him. You looked so beautiful, hair fanned out on the pillow, staring up at him. “To make you my bride,” he said, voice guttural. He braced his hands on either side of your head, and you widened your legs for him to cushion himself against you.
Again, you said nothing, so he leaned forward.
You quickly rested your hands tenderly against his face, stroking his cheekbones. But when he leaned down to kiss you, you turned your head to the side. He kissed your cheeks, trailing closer to your mouth. “You want to be my bride, pretty girl?”
When he raised his head to look at you, your eyes had fallen shut, brows pinching. Your lips parted as you breathed harder. You were being oddly quiet.
Azriel waited a beat. “Say you want me.”
Your eyes shot open, meeting his gaze again.
“You want to be my bride,” he breathed.
You slowly retracted your hands from his face. He watched your throat work a delicate swallow, your eyes searching his as he waited. “Is that—what I wanted to tell you?” you spoke gently. Not that wicked reverberation.
Azriel stilled.
Oh.
There was—no, there was no way. It’d been so clear.
He’d felt you. Felt how much you wanted him.
God, he was going crazy.
“…yes,” he whispered. It was what you wanted, what he wanted, you’d said it so clearly, he’d been awake, he was sure—
“Azzy,” you spoke again with that devastating gentleness.
“Y/N,” he rasped. He didn’t like the desperate edge in his voice.
“Baby,” you said, that enduring softness both soothing and hurting. He let himself stay where he was, resting on your frame, basking in your softness, knowing it would soon end. You searched his eyes, the restless pleading in them broke your heart.
He closed his eyes, bracing himself. Shit. He’d put his hands on your body, lay between your parted legs. Tried to kiss you.
Asked you to be his bride.
“I’m sorry.” He began moving off you, even as you rose with him. “I didn’t—I just thought—”
“Azzy, it’s okay,” you soothed. He sat on the edge of the bed, and you followed as he exhaled deeply. “Your dreams—it’s not your fault. I was just caught off guard, that’s all.”
Azriel shook his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t tell what’s real anymore.”
You cooed, wrapping your arms around his bicep. “It’s okay, honey. We’ll figure it out. I think you just need to rest.” You tugged, trying to pull him back to the pillows.
Azriel met your gaze again. “You still want me here?”
You frowned. “Of course I do.”
He searched your eyes for hesitation. Surely, he should leave, should keep himself from you. But you looked so lovely, beckoning him to sleep. No echoes, no siren mirth. Just honest eyes.
If he were better, if he were saner, he’d get up and leave. Would never risk your comfort—your body—in the state he was in. He was shocked at his inclination to stay.
He rose, let you pull the sheets back for him, and lay beside you. He knew shame would meet him in the daylight. He didn’t even want to think about what he’d revealed to you. He closed his eyes, and when you curled your body against his arm, he let himself savour it with every selfish drop of blood in him.
Perhaps this would be the last night he got this gift. He was perfectly content with not sleeping, lest he miss the feeling of sharing your bed this final time. Lest he fall back into his mania.
Azriel decided he’d choose in the morning whether this could carry on. For now, he’d lay next to you. Restless and haunted.
Baiting love and baiting sanity.
~
“Azzy, c’mere,” you murmured. You stood with your back to him in an open field, staring at something on the ground. Azriel approached you, took your extended hand to stand beside you.
Before the both of you lay a large square plot in the earth.
A grave.
Azriel turned to face you. Your eyes were cloudy, but you smiled up at him. “Our marriage bed.”
~
Azriel shot awake.
He’d let his feelings turn into something decaying and poisonous. Still, he didn’t know if he could muster the strength to walk away from you.
He turned in the dimness of the morning to see you and halted.
You were gone.
Dread pooled in his stomach, ice tightened his shoulders.
You’d left.
He shouldn’t be surprised, yet he remained frozen, aching. He let his head fall into his hands.
He’d scared you away. Surely.
He’d…he’d make sure you were okay, and then… that would be it. He’d withdraw.
Azriel got ready haphazardly, scrubbing his face in the sink, throwing on yesterday’s clothing. He raced downstairs, running immediately into Cassian, making him stumble.
“Mother’s tits, Az. What’s the matter?”
“Y/N. Have you seen her?”
Cassian was immediately alert. “Why? Is she alright?”
“She’s fine,” Rhys cut in, emerging from the kitchen.
“Where is she?” Azriel demanded, taking a step towards the High Lord.
Rhys surveyed him, and Azriel didn’t like the placating look on his face. “She went to run an errand. Nothing to worry about.”
“What errand, Rhys?”
Rhys stepped closer and placed a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. Had you told Rhys what’d happened the night before? “Az, maybe you should… ease up.”
“Ease up?”
“Yeah. Take a breath. She’s okay. I’d never let anything happen to her.”
“You keep hogging her all to yourself, Az,” Cassian joked. “We had to send her away.”
Azriel ignored Cassian’s attempt at lightening the mood. “Why’s she away, Rhys?”
“She needed to do something.”
“And she… asked you for help?” That shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.
“I just happened to be awake,” Rhys said gently.
Azriel was stunned silent for a beat as his brothers took him in.
“C’mon Az. Let’s go work off the stress in the ring. It’s been a while,” Cassian offered. Azriel still held Rhys’s assessing gaze. Like he could see straight into Azriel’s weary soul. He broke his gaze to meet Cassian’s. His brothers must think he was truly losing it.
“Okay, Cass.”
Rhys nodded in approval, satisfied. “She’ll be back soon.”
~
“Azriel,” you called.
You shifted, bracing yourself on his frame where he lay, somewhere cold and final. Azriel immediately supported you as you put more of your weight on him. He didn’t dare move as you leaned down to kiss his cheeks.
It was dark—you must’ve come to bed. He gently grasped your forearms where they were braced on his chest, lest you slip away again. “Where’ve you been?”
“I left.”
“Why?” his voice faltered.
“You didn’t make me yours,” you murmured.
“But I want to,” he tried rising, but you pushed him back down into the cold beneath.
You met his hazy gaze. “If this is how it’ll be, you’ll only find me in our marriage bed.”
His heart dropped to his stomach. No.
“Yes.
In the companion plot you’d dug to rot in the ground together. “It’s not safe there.”
“Here,” you corrected, kissing his eyelids. Though your eyes were unkind, you only peppered kisses along his jaw. “You don’t listen, Azriel.”
He focused on receiving your affection, ignoring the sharp discomfort inching up his spine. Stone digging into his flesh.
“Azriel. Are you listening?” As you shifted, dirt collected on his legs.
“I am,” he closed his eyes, smelling the musk of the earth.
“Azriel.”
“Yes.”
Azriel.
“Azriel,” you spoke. Gently this time.
Kindly.
He opened his eyes.
You leaned over him not in a tomb but in his bed. It was indeed dark, but there was no finality to be found here. Not when he met your gaze, filled with concern and gentleness. No punishing scowls nor reprimand. No asphyxiation imposed on his ribcage.
“Y/N,” he rose immediately. He’d spent the day searching for you. After sparring, he’d taken off, searched the River House. The city. Asked around for you to no avail.
He’d returned to the House of Wind as the sun set, defeated. He didn’t think sleep would find him in your absence. “I’m sorry,” he began. “I’m sorry about last night. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just—my dreams, they’ve been—” disturbing. Uncanny— “they—I don’t know when they start, or if I’m awake—”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off with the softness in your tone he ached for. You placed a soothing hand on his arm. “After—um, last night, I asked Rhys if I could talk to Madja.”
Oh.
“I know you spent a while having sleepless nights,” you continued. “I thought—maybe the unsettling dreams you’ve been having are a result. So I had Madja make a tonic to help.” You held up a vial full of sloshing liquid.
“A sleeping aid?”
“Not exactly,” you shook your head. “This is to give you dreamless sleep. So you can have an easier time differentiating.”
Azriel was speechless. “Thank you,” he managed.
You nodded, offering a soft smile.
Which meant— “You’re not angry with me?” he asked.
A frown pulled your brows together. “No, love, I’m not angry. I came back to the Town House after Madja finished, but you were gone.”
Oh.
“I—I didn’t know if you—I was looking for you,” he said.
“So was I,” you murmured. “When you didn’t come back to the Town House all day, I asked Mor to winnow me here.” The silence was heavy as you both sat with the clarity. There was much to address. You averted your gaze, crossing your arms.
“What is it?” Azriel asked softly.
You found his eyes with an openness that had him holding his breath. “Last night, you mentioned—you wanted me to, um—”
“It won’t happen again,” he cut in.
You shook your head. “It’s not that, I—Azriel,” you paused, voice softening even further. “You dream of marrying me?”
Azriel was rendered speechless again, but he could do nothing but nod truthfully.
You blushed but uncrossed your arms, peering shyly. “Well. I can’t say I’m entirely opposed to the notion.”
Azriel couldn’t help his smile. His relief. “Yeah?” he spoke softly, itching to reach for you.
You nodded. “I mean we should take it slow, but I’m glad—I’m glad you also—” you gestured back and forth between your bodies. “I—it’s good, Azriel,” you stammered.
He stared intently at you, searching your eyes for doubt. Finding none. He swallowed. “I can do slow.” He’d crawl on shattered glass should you ask, let alone take slow ungratefully.
Your smile deepened, and if it was possible, so did Azriel’s affection for you. You shifted closer to him, reaching for his hand, winding your fingers together. “It’s late, Azzy.”
He narrowed his eyes playfully, happy to let you take the lead.
“Wanna give that tonic a try?” you smiled sweetly.
Azriel chuckled. “Is that taking it slow?”
You laughed. “If you got other things in mind, I won’t object.”
He opened his arms to you, and you smiled, shifting forward, sitting before him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him sweetly. Azriel sank back into the headboard, urging you further forward. You broke away to crawl into his lap. Azriel pulled you firmly against him by your thighs, enjoying your gasp against his mouth.
Azriel tried not to let his urgency show, but it was difficult to hold back when you pressed your body so deliciously against him. He’d dreamt of your warmth against him so frequently that this felt familiar rather than uncharted. It felt correct.
So when his hardness pressed against you, he only broke off from your mouth to see what you wanted next with no apologies tumbling from his lips.
You gazed at him, wide-eyed and wanting, but didn’t remove yourself. He forced his hands to settle on your legs despite the need to pull you onto him. You bit your lip apprehensively; with your grip on his shoulders, you dragged your core against his. Azriel’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head, his head falling back against the headboard in relief.
You seized the opportunity, bending forward to kiss his jaw. He gripped your hips, guiding your movement against him, relishing the gasp you let out in your shared pleasure.
He began pulling at the laces of your gown, helping you out of it. You paused only to bare yourself, and he followed suit, tugging off his shirt.
He wanted to taste you, to mark you, to sink inside you and have his way with you. When you returned to his lap in only your skin, he didn’t know where to begin.
Azriel traced down your front, kneading your breasts, drawing more of your pretty moans, making him dizzy with need. He’d take his time another time, he decided, needing to be inside you. Needing you to be ready for that. His hands wandered down the softness of your torso, and you leaned back in his lap to watch as one of his hands braced itself on your thigh, holding it further open, the other touching you where you needed it.
You shuddered, thighs instinctively shifting to close, but he resisted. He stroked up and down your folds, spreading your slick. When he continued his teasing, you impatiently grasped his wrist, setting him where you wanted. He thumbed at your clit, massaging circles into it, causing your back to arch.
His touch was gentle but skilled, pulling an orgasm from you before you could truly sit with the pleasure. Your legs shook, chest heaving, but before you could worry about the haste of it, Azriel was unbuckling his pants, freeing himself.
Through the haze of your pleasure, your jaw fell slack at the size of him. You met his gaze, nervous suddenly. He only gauged you. “You can do it,” he rasped.
You swallowed, nodding. He seemed inclined to sit back and watch you take him, making no move to rise. Perhaps this was his way of making it less intimidating, you thought.
Azriel’s intentions were in fact less benevolent. With you finally at his mercy, falling apart in his lap and baring yourself to him after all his wanting and waiting, he was suddenly overcome with the need to feel the labour of this coupling. Not in the carnal sense—beyond the pleasure, he needed this to be stamped into your body.
He loved you, but right now he wanted you to work for your pleasure like you’d made him work for his devotion, his sanity. His patience and worry. That you asked Rhys for help this morning instead of him. That you made him lose his grip on his control so viscerally.
So he said, “Take what you want.”
You rose on shaky legs, hands braced sweetly on his shoulders as you guided yourself closer to him, legs spread on either side of his hips. You reached down, lining him up and began sinking.
At the immediate pinch between your brows, Azriel knew it hurt you, that the stretch was difficult. Yet you were trying to take it for him. You were so tight around him, so snug it had him heaving. “Good girl,” he muttered and felt you sink a little easier at that. You whimpered.
When you were halfway down on him, you paused, panting softly, meeting his gaze. The innocent pleading in them had Azriel nearly breaking his resolve. He thumbed at your clit again, moving his grip from your thighs to your hips to ease you down. When you finally sank all the way, you were shaking enough for Azriel to let up, to lean forward and kiss you. He was struggling to remain still in the wake of your vice grip, to keep himself from fucking you, but he knew you needed the reprieve.
He kissed you for as long as you needed, continued to massage pleasure back into you as you adjusted in his lap. When you finally relaxed against him, he sat back against the headboard to watch you move. With your hands still on his shoulders, you began hauling yourself up and down onto him, wincing each time he bottomed out. You felt so good around him that he could barely breathe.
You still struggled to ride him. The sheer size of him making it difficult to rise fully, and your legs were close to giving out. “Azzy,” you whimpered, pouting at him terribly.
Oh.
His sweet, lovely girl. “Aww,” he couldn’t help but coo. He frowned in disbelief at his own cruelty, making you take him all on your own like that. “I’m sorry, angel.” He gripped your thighs around your ass, taking over. You gasped as he began guiding your body up and down his length with an ease that stole your breath again. He hauled you up and let you sink down at a relaxed pace, seeing how closely you teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. “So good for me, right baby?”
“Mhm,” your eyes were falling shut, the pleasure drawing your brows together in a concentrated pinch as you let him fuck you onto him. You relaxed further into his hold, winding your hips forward and back, and he began moving faster.
One of his hands shifted to your throat, gripping it gently but firmly, making your eyes flash to his. “Say you’re mine,” he spoke lowly.
Your hand wrapped around his wrist lovingly. “I’m yours, Azzy.” He could tell you were close again from the breathy pitch.
“My bride,” he corrected.
You gasped, shifting forward as he hit a spot deep inside that had your rhythm stuttering. “Your bride,” you panted.
“That’s fucking right,” he said, shifting forward so you fell back into the bed. With your legs open, he returned his grip to your throat and plunged inside you again, making you moan. He fucked you more firmly despite the slide of your tight entrance making it nearly difficult. You gripped his wrist with both your hands now, and when your nails dug into his skin, he knew you’d fall apart.
You gasped, mouth agape and soundless as you shuddered through your climax, clamping your legs around his tightly until they fell open again as the pleasure coiled and released. He pulled out to give you a moment to catch your breath, knowing he was being rough.
Though every bone in his body ached to cover you like a shadow, to press his skin on yours and only let up when you needed to breathe, to kiss you and show you he loved you, he rose to witness the sight of you.
Bare and spread for him.
If not for the threat of potentially scaring you off, he’d have tied your wrists to each bedpost and kept you here. All his for all time. To claim and fuck as he pleased.
You were breathing hard, shifting restlessly on the bed, waiting for him to bury himself in you. It seemed you and Azriel kept returning to the act of burial, whether earthly or bodily.
“Azriel,” you breathed, grounding him. He grasped your knees where they lay on either side of him and gently plied them further apart, bending them up to allow him to look at your swollen sex. You blushed when you realized what he was doing, turning to bury your head in the pillow, but Azriel couldn’t tear his eyes away, admiring the gleam. What he did to your body. Your slick was spilling out of you. He ran his fingers through it. You flinched, still sensitive from release, but he didn’t let up, pushing his fingers into you—just needing to feel you. Your thighs shook as he did.
Azriel was harder than marble and needed to be inside you again.
He lined himself up, and before you had the chance to truly catch your breath, he was plunging again. You gasped, hands finding his chest. Azriel pushed inside, relishing the tight fit. He leaned over you, snaking his arms beneath your back. He rested his weight on his forearms where they pressed between your body and the mattress. His hands found their place on your shoulders, gripping them tightly from beneath. The position allowed him to use your frame to haul you onto his length as he pleased.
He fucked you harder than before, and there was nothing you could do but take it, mouth gaping and brows pinching at the overwhelming control he held. At the ecstasy he thrust into your body that made your head spin. At the utter power contained in his body, the ease with which he moved over you and inside you. You were encompassed by the mass of him, all corded muscles pressing into your torso and thick arms beneath you. You gripped his neck, scratching his skin, listening to the sharp slap of his hips against yours.
He was in your womb, so deep that there was a bite of pain with each thrust, but it was him and you wanted every part of him. The pleasure was so overwhelming that you stopped breathing, body tense as you tried to acclimate to it once again. Azriel rested his forehead on yours, lips brushing against yours. Not kissing you, just breathing against your mouth. You let out a choked whimper. “That’s it,” he growled. “Good girl. You can take it.” You heaved air into your lungs again, surrendering to the hold he had on you, physically and whatever tugged you to him beyond. Surrendered to the pleasure, no longer resisting it even as it stunned every nerve ending.
You relaxed, rode the waves, drowned in them. “Good fucking girl,” he breathed again, feeling the shift to pliability in your body. On a baser level, he understood that you were yielding to him. You were safe with him, and you were his. The urgency in his thrusts calmed, but he shifted his hold, and wrapped his arms around your waist, slotting himself against you. He buried his face in your neck, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
Still soft in his arms, still taking him.
He felt his release cresting but didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want this to end. Your thighs were shaking around his waist. “I’m coming inside you,” he breathed into your hair, making you whimper again.
“Please, please,” you panted. He knew you were nearing your release as well, knew you likely couldn’t take more given how thorough he’d been with you. Azriel reverted to hurried movements, memorizing how he dragged against your walls. How warm and tight you were, still clamping down on him like iron, impossibly tighter as he dragged you closer. Your breathing halted again as release tore through you. You cried out, writhing against him.
The pulsating suction of your climax massaged him inside you, making him shudder. He plunged himself into you, putting all his weight into it, fucking you so deep into the mattress as your tightness crested his pleasure.
He finally stopped moving, releasing his seed deep inside you. It was the longest and hardest he’d ever come, leaving him shaking above you, panting.
You soothed shaky hands down his back, and Azriel finally eased his weight off you. Remaining buried inside you, he shifted his arms to bracket your frame, raising to look at you.
Beneath him, your eyes were droopy but bright as you watched him back. That he found sincere trust in them, that there was softness after all he’d done to you only made his chest ache. You truly did give yourself to him. “I—I don’t want to pull out,” he admitted lowly, voice hoarse.
You stroked his cheeks, hands still unsteady. “Then don’t,” you whispered. Azriel snuck an arm beneath your waist again, this time guiding you to lay on top of him as he turned to rest on his back, careful to keep himself tucked inside you. You gasped, sensitive and overstimulated, but took it patiently as he settled himself into the bed, settlling yourself against his chest. He stroked down your form against him, soothed the tremors in your arms and legs.
Whatever part of him existed before that could bear to be without you was dead. Perhaps this is the burial he’d been haunted by night after night. His immortality rebirthed with his consummated bride. He pulled the sheets over your bodies, kissing the crown of your head.
He’d learn to be with you less intensely, to want you more sanely. But not tonight—tonight, he was finally going to rest in peace, buried with you, buried inside you.
His bride in your marriage bed.
~
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Totally Annoying and Not Funny at All
Azriel x reader
<3
Warnings: some swearing and suggestiveness
Word count: 6.7k (I’m so sorry??)
Summary: Azriel finds you annoying and he never laughs at your lame jokes… until he does.
<3
Azriel tried his best to ignore the mumbling that was sounding behind him, tune it out like he did with everything else he didn't want to hear. He sighed rolling his shoulders as he continued to shlep up the uneven rocks.
He had been stuck with you... again. He tried raging against his brother’s order, insisting he could handle a simple recovery mission on his own but Rhys didn't budge, saying, "She's a fine scholar who has studied Marestone for years, with her help you can turn a three day mission into one and a half." But being here, with you, he couldn't help the but wondering on the implications of leaving you here and ditching the mission completely.
It started when you appeared in his doorway as he was getting ready to leave, his shadows alerted him of your presence and he stopped short to give you a hard look. Maybe if he looked mean enough you wouldn't want to go, he knew it wouldn't work but he had to try it anyway.
You let out a low whistle as your eyes tracked up and down his body, "Is that a sword in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You had a devilish smile and your eyes shone with mischief. He just rolled his eyes at the words, the same line every time you see him. Last time you asked if it was a shadow, the time before that a dagger, and the time he was carrying training equipment you asked if it was a fighting dummy.
He didn't speak to you as you sauntered through his room uninvited and landed belly up on his bed, shadows darted around your face and you giggled "at least someone's happy to see me." You pawed at the shadows as they darted through your hands, a little cat and mouse with the naughty shadows that didn't listen when its master tried to call them back.
You rolled over and watched him as he continued to sheath daggers and swords all over his body as the shadows played in your hair. "You know," you started and he rolled his eyes again, knowing it was going to be a repeating offense since he had to spend the next day and a half with you, "The Northwood mountains are relatively safe, I don't think you'll be needing all that hardware."
He didn't have to look over to know you had a stupid grin plastered on your face as you watched him. He just huffed and responded coldly, "You never know." You didn't really and he knew that, you moved through the world like it was your playground and you were put on this planet for the sole reason of having fun, never worrying about the dangers life has to offer. Must be nice not having a dirty past he thought to himself.
You returned the sentiment by huffing in response as well, the only difference of yours was light and airy and not laced with annoyance. "Your right your right," you had opted to rolling back over and kicking your feet as the shadows swished around your ankles, "I hear badgers are particularly dangerous this time of year. I might need you to save me,” you laughed at your own dramatics and Azriel cut a glance in your direction only for his eyes to catch on your feet.
With two stomps he was next to the bed grabbing your ankles, he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed, earning and excited wooo from your lips before he threw your feet over the side. “No shoes on the bed,” was all he said before he went back to what he was doing, packing his sack with anything he could possibly need for the overnight trip.
You sat up straight and the shadow moved to curl around your neck like a scarf, “Sorry, I forgot that you’re a neat freak.” You were provoking him and he knew it but he still couldn’t help himself.
“I’m not a- I’m not a neat freak, I’m just not dirty,” his tone was meant to be offensive and he felt his anger rising at the fact that you didn’t take any.
“Pfft, says the guy who notices if his knives have been breathed on… you’d hate to see my room,” you seemed to remember the fact as you said it as you leaned over and started pushing around the things on his bed side table. You smiled at your actions as you could already see his reaction in your mind, meanwhile, a shiver when down Azriel spine. He didn’t even want to imagine your bedroom, the thought made his skin crawl. The one time he was tasked with picking you up from your apartment he saw through the crack in your door that you had clothes, shoes, books, and a bunch of random nick-nacks and toys strewn about haphazardly. “And I prefer to use the term messy. Not dirty.”
He was crossing the floor to the closet to grab his night sack when stopped to readjust his night table and he cut you a glare, “Shoes on the bed is dirty,” he gave you a once over before turning to walk in his closet. You made a face at his back before putting your feet on the bed again and kicking it wildly before moving back quickly as he came out. His shadows danced around you amused and you smiled at them. Laying back on your belly you made sure to keep your toes on the floor as you passed secrets back and forth with the shadows, giggling to yourself.
Azriel pulled the sack over a shoulder and looked over at your ass sticking up in the air, his eyes only lingered for a second but one of his shadows whispered to him, smack it, and with that he used all of his willpower to pull the shadows away from their bad influence. You frowned at the lost of your friend but stood up an asked “Ready Azzy baby?”
He frowned at the stupid nickname, he told you a million times not to use it but at this point he wasn’t sure if you even knew his real name. Looking you over clocking your attire he realized you didn’t have any belongings with you other than a small over the shoulder bag and his face morphed into a smirk at the thought of you sleeping on the ground. Your eyes shone at his reaction as he leaned towards you a whispered, “Don’t call me that.”
You shivered at his proximity and said, “Sir yes sir,” he leaned back and you bit your lip as he rounded you and walked toward the door, “I do as I’m told,” your tone was suggestive and his shadows tore from his grip to dance around your waist.
He didn’t turn but you could hear the smirk on his voice, “What if I told you to keep quiet for the rest of the trip?” He knew you would have some quick quip as to why you wouldn’t but alas a boys gotta try.
The suggestiveness lingered as you said, “Well then I might misbehave,” the shadows found your response amusing as they twisted up your torso but Azriel just responded with the shake of his head.
Now here you both were climbing up the Northwood mountains in search of a cave entrance, you had found two already but a quick sniff told you that it didn’t have what you were looking for. The flight was bearable, you didn’t talk much but when you did he would just fly faster so the wind would drown out your voice, you caught on and opted to spend the flight quietly leaning your head on his shoulder.
Being completely honest you liked Azriel but after your first meeting you knew he didn’t like you and never would, so the quips started off as a defense mechanism but you realized his shadows liked you and they seemed to love your teasing and playfulness so you settled for that; it also helped that Az looked so cute when he’s angry.
If Az was being honest he didn’t totally hate you, you were cute and your wit was unmatched but it was so much easier to act uninterested and distant.
At some point during your hike you were asking Az if he had heard the song that had been looping in your head, “Have you ever heard ‘Pl-“ was cut off by a swift no. You rolled your eyes and droned on and on about how you loved it and it was so amazing. You gave him a sample of what the song sounded like but since their wasn’t any lyrics you were just making noises with your mouth, you definitely weren’t doing the song justice and you knew he would find it terribly annoying but you couldn’t help yourself. You were just about to stop when he sent his shadows to muffle your voice and the act alone fueled you conviction so you kept going.
He had to use his entire mental capacity to force his shadows to quiet you, they didn’t want to because for some unholy reason he couldn’t discern, they liked the sound of your voice. They liked you in general but then again you were the only other person in the world who would talk and interact with them.
The mumbling stopped and he thanked the mother herself as he recalled the shadows that were quieting you but when he didn’t hear your footsteps he whipped around to scan the scene. For a brief second he thought with his luck you might have fallen over the side of the mountain, and he questioned whether that would be good luck or bad.
Instead you were face down in the dirt, he almost laughed at you splayed out on the ground like a starfish but stifled it and he walked over and nudged your arm with his foot. You rolled onto your back and stared directly at the sky, “I fell,” you said simply.
He bit back his laugh again, “Yea?”
“I was wondering how long it would take the Spymaster of the night court to notice, turns out 11 seconds.” He looked off into the distance so you wouldn’t see his smile, regaining control he looked back down but he couldn’t hide the amusement in his eye.
He shrugged down at her, “I guess your little friends didn’t see fit to tell me.” You sighed as you held out her hand, Az didn’t put much effort in trying to lift you but when you were dead weight he pulled harder. In that half second that he put all his force into pulling you up you brought your foot to his chest and pushed him over your head causing him to hit the ground with a thud.
You laughed heartily and he just stared at the sky listening to the sound. “Good one,” his voice was flat and that made you laugh harder. Rolling over you propped yourself up with your arms to witness the damage, it was his turn to be splayed like a starfish and you laughed so hard you thought your stomach would bust.
He tilted his head back to catch a glimpse and your smile was so broad he wondered if your cheeks hurt. He turned back to the sky and clocked the myriad of colors that dusted it, he had probably about an hour until sunset. He also propped himself up and scanned his surroundings once again, his shadows read his mind and told him this was as good of a place he would find to make camp. “It’s getting late, we should probably set up camp for the night.”
You moved to sit with your legs crossed and face the man who had his back to you. “Okay! What should I do?” Your not a camper, in fact you’ve never slept outside of a well established shelter with heating and cozy beds. For some reason when Rhys told you the trip would be overnight it didn’t even cross your mind that you would be sleeping outside.
“How about you just sit there and look pretty,” Az said as he got up and dusted himself off. You smiled at that, not only was it as close to a jest as he’s ever gotten but it’s also the closest to a compliment.
“Well I can definitely do that,” you leaned back onto the ground using our arm as cushions as watched the clouds glow as they moved across the painted sky. Azriel got to work, he collected sticks and logs to build a cozy little fire and catching a couple of small rabbits for food. He rummaged through his sack to pull out a pan and a pack of veggies to heat up with the meat before he pulled out his sack and tossed it to the side to unfold later.
When you smelled the food cooking you perked up and moved to crouch next to him and watch; you hadn’t even realized you were hungry until the smell hit. He looked at you out of the side of his eye, you were practically drooling as you stared at the food meant solely for him.
“I take it you didn’t pack any food,” he knew you didn’t, that’s why he caught the extra rabbits, he practically had magical foresight when it came to you. A vision of you begging for some of his food had him laughing to himself as his shadows did the hard work of catching the small creatures.
You purses your lips in thought before, “Oh!” You rummaged through your small bag and pulled out a baggie mixed with nuts, berries, and chocolates. “I brought trail mix, I’ll share if you do,” you sung the last part as you shook the baggie near his face.
He pushed the bag away lightly while shaking his head, “Fine. But I only like the chocolates,” it was a lie, he liked nuts and berries too but he had a feeling the chocolates were your favorite part so he opted to give you a taste of your own medicine. You grunted as you plopped down on your butt and mumbled a fine, whatever mostly to yourself. He smiled knowing you couldn’t see it as he finished cooking.
You two mostly ate in silence other than you offering up random facts about whatever popped in your head like how wombats poop squares or how peanuts can be used to make explosives. Azriel just nodded at whatever you said not admitting out loud what he didn’t know or what he found interesting. He offered you some of his water which turned out to be a mistake as you drank over half of it, he thanked his gift of foresight that told him to pack multiple canteens.
When you guys finished eating you both brushed your teeth with what was left of the water and Azriel was glad you at least packed your toothbrush even though you forgot toothpaste. Twilight was upon you when you finished, he rinsed off the dirty pan with the second canteen and shoved it to the bottom of his bag before rolling out his sleep sack. The corner of his eye caught you watching, awkwardly sat on your hands, lips pursed like you wanted to speak but were holding yourself back.
“Don’t even ask,” he said without looking at you as he slipped off his boots and the top layer of leather to reveal a tight fitted gray long sleeve.
“Oh come on! You don’t even have a second blanket?” When Az shook his head you groaned heavily, he made a slick comment about preparing better for overnight trips and you shook your head as you pulled your knees in close. “I didn’t know we’d be sleeping outside, I guess I assumed we’d have beds out here.”
“Oh yea,” Az said he climbed in, “Most mountains have rooms you can rent out, with heating and plumbing too. This one must just be defective.”
You couldn’t even be mad, he was making jokes, for the first time since you met him. All of your chipping must’ve cracked his icy exterior enough to make him open to shoot quips back at you. You thought about what else you might be able to pull from him as you curled into yourself on the hard ground with only your arm as a pillow.
It didn’t take long for the temperature to drop after the sun was completely gone and with the wind picking up the now small fire wasn’t doing much to help. Azriel couldn’t get to sleep, not with his shadows buzzing in his ear, she’s freezing, her lips are turning blue, she can’t feel her fingers. Not to mention your teeth chattering so hard he thought he would soon hear a crack. He got up and moved over to where you were attempting and failing to sleep and nudges your arm with his foot.
You rolled over to look at him and your lips were in fact tinged with blue, part of him felt bad at the sight as he purposely left his blankets just to spite you. “Go sleep in my sack.”
“Are you sure, what about you?” You sat up and looked at him to make sure he was serious, the light from the moon that shone on his face didn’t illuminate any semblance of a joke.
“I’ll be fine. It’s like you always say, I’m super hot,” you laughed at his words as you quickly moved to his sack.
“Thank you Azzy baby!” You called as you slipped off you shoes and windbreaker before sliding in, it was warm and it smelled like him and you let out a soft moan as you instantly felt warmer.
Az had wrapped his wings around himself in an attempt to make a barrier and the more he sat there the worse he felt for leaving you to the elements. You knew that despite what he said he would be just as freezing as you just were and you debated for a few minutes before speaking.
“You know this sack is big enough for two people,” you knew he was awake but when he didn’t answer you tried again, trying your hardest not to sound like a desperate creep, “I’m just saying, body heat will reduce the amount of heat loss. Survival 101.”
Az was freezing but he sat for a second as he debated whether or not to climb into that sack, how annoying could you be in your sleep? When a gust of wind blew against his back he just said screw it and silently made his way to you. He kicked off the untied boots before climbing in with you.
You kept your self from immediately scooting towards his warmth and let him get comfortable first. In a true gentlemanly fashion he offered his arm as a pillow and you silently swooned as you accepted it, he also brought he wing down over your body and it acted like a second blanket. Snaking your arms around his waist you tangled your legs with his and to your suprise he never stoped you or pulled away, in fact his other arm was secured around your middle. With his warmth and his smell shrouding you, you fell asleep quick and easy, much better than any bed.
Az didn’t sleep so easy, your body pressed to him was indeed keeping him warm but he wasn’t used to sleeping with someone like this. He had his share of lovers but he was never a cuddler and it didn’t help that you moved around a lot in your sleep, kicking him occasionally. With the moon higher above your heads he looked down at your sleeping face.
Though you still were finding a way to annoy him in your sleep, your state had him softening. Your skin looked so soft and pristine in the light from the moon and the hair pooled around your head glowed like a halo. You plump lips were slightly parted and you produced a light snore that had Az smiling to himself. He brought a scarred hand to caress the skin on your cheek while the arm that you layed on bent so he could twirled your hair, you let out a happy moan at the contact and he smiled as his hand took on a mind of its on. Trailing you from your cheek to your jaw, down the column of your neck and back up to swipe the soft skin of your lips.
You shifted and turned, he brought his hand back afraid he woke you, but when you just nuzzled your face deep into his chest he felt his heart jump. You inhaled his scent deeply and that seemed to settle your restlessness, his jumping heart felt a tug and he froze for a second. Looking down at you he couldn’t believe it, he felt around his heart and it wasn’t snapped but he was sure it was there.
“No,” he breathed as he looked at you wrapped around his body, “no way.” His shadows seemed excited by the revelation as they chanted yes, yes, yes, like they already knew. He wondered if the bond snapped for you already and that’s what you had been whispering to his shadows about, the thought made him shiver. He had been so cold and distasteful, you were a good fae and deserved better than that, you deserved a male who laughed at every stupid joke.
You registered his shiver in your sleep pulling him tighter to you and the simple thoughtless action made his eyes prickle. He held you tightly, memorizing the way your bodies fit together like puzzle pieces. He held back his tears by inhaling your scent of honeysuckle and roasted wood, with a gentle kiss on your brow he closed his eyes and promised his nosey shadows that he would be nice tomorrow.
-
Az was still asleep when you woke up, you didn’t want to move and even if you did you were trapped by his strong arm and wing. But you were content to stay like this forever, gazing up at his sleeping face. His tan skin was smooth and his nose and cheekbones were decorated with freckles, you brought your hand up to hover over his face, ghosting over the lines and ridges. His hair was tousled from sleep, falling like dominoes across his forehead and his plump lips were pouting . You let out a deep sigh as you pulled your hand back, why do you torture yourself this way. You wiggled around attempting to move away from him but your efforts were futile when his arm pulled you tighter to his body, he grunted as he turned his head to nuzzle into your hair.
Your stomach was doing flips at the action and you had to remind yourself he was asleep, the action was subconscious. You pulled your head back and laid your face inches from his and watched him breathe. His long eyelashes fluttered open and the first thing his golden eyes caught was you, the faint ghost of a smile touched his lips as his eyes roamed over your face. You smiled bright at him, “Good morning shadowsinger, is that a breakfast sausage in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?”
For the first time since you met him he chuckled lowly as he rolled on his back and stretched his arms behind his and, “aaand you ruined it.” You laughed as he watched you from the corner of his eyes and you sat up to looked directly at him. He must be in a good mood because he wasn’t scowling at you, in fact his face had an ease you’d never seen, he was positively yummy in his sleepy daze.
“My bad,” it was your turn to stretch since you were finally free from his iron grasp though his wing stayed splayed across your legs, “didn’t know there was anything to ruin.”
Az brought his fingers up to grab the ends of your hair, mindlessly twirling it around his fingers while you did the same to his shadows that excitedly came to greet you, “Your actually bareable when you sleep, you don’t talk and ruin it.” He meant his word as a joke but something clicked for you. Azriel is quiet and calm, he would probably prefer someone like him, maybe if you weren’t always badgering him for attention he could reciprocate your feelings. “Except for the fact that you’re a kicker.”
You laughed as his shadows danced away and you leaned back against your hand to look at his face again “Yea I probably should have warned you, my sisters refuse to share a bed with me for that exact reason.” When he didn’t look away or move your turned your attention back to your hands, the softness in his eyes was too much and you worried for your conviction. You reached out a finger to dance across the top of his wing which instantly retracted at your touch. He grunted as he moved to sit up, “Im sorry, I didn’t- I shouldn’t have-“
“Its fine,” He shook his head as he pushed the top of the sack off his body and made a move for his shoes, “I just don’t want to hear any more breakfast sausage jokes.” He smirked over his shoulder and you blushed at his suggestive tone, only able to nod as you noted the sensitivity of Illyrian wings. You pushed yourself up and grabbed your shoes as well before getting ready to hike again.
When your teeth were brushed, hair tied, and you finished reliving yourself Az had successfully packed up the rest of the camp as stood waiting for you. You began your hike and this time you remembered to keep your mouth shut, no suggestive jokes, no terrible singing, and no random facts. Just silence as you found another cave that didn’t have the distinct smell you were looking for. “I think we need to be higher up,” You said as you craned your neck to look up the mighty mountain that still lied ahead, “You could fly us up there and we could work our way down.”
He adjusting the sack on his shoulder and looked at you like you had a secret he was trying to figure out, after a few seconds of you shifting under his gaze he spoke, “Its fine,” he followed you eyes up the mountain, “I don’t mind walking.”
“Well I do,” you huffed walking up to him and wrapping your arms around his shoulder as you willed yourself to keep your eyes on the mountain, “my feet are killing me and I’d rather have a real bed tonight.” You didn’t mean for the first time you spoke since this morning to have a bite to it but you couldn’t help it, forcing yourself to shut up all day was like shaking up a beehive and then telling them they have to remain calm. You were buzzing under the surface but you hoped he would write it off as crankiness. Az got the message and just nodded, he scooped up your legs and shot into the air. You watched his powerful wings that your fingers itched to touch, instead you pressed your mouth to his shoulder and watched silently.
He landed near the top where the safe part of the trail ended and when he started walking without putting you down you pulled back to look at him, “You can put me down now.” He smirked at your words and tossed you up slightly to readjust you tighter against him.
“You don’t want to walk, I don’t mind walking,” he shrugged against you and you wanted to say ‘if you like me just say that’ but you bit your tongue as you were determined not to be annoying today. You just shook your head and put your mouth back to his shoulder, watching the sky over his back. “What? No comment?” When you shook your head he chuckled airily, “Must be my lucky day,” you could hear the smile in his voice and you just closed your eyes shaking your head lightly.
Az had tried to talk to you a couple times, recalling random facts you’ve told him or telling you his own. Each time you would either have a short response or just hum, channeling him and the way he reacted to you. You figured whatever your doing must’ve been working as he seemed much lighter and happier today, that hurt a deep part of you.
Az knew there was something wrong, you weren’t you, but he figured you must’ve been tired or cranky from the uncomfortable sleeping situation and all the walking. You were a scholar used to plushy couches and central air, you were totally out of your element. He eventually stopped trying so hard to get you to talk, he wanted to be good to you and that included reading the signs and not prying.
Eventually he came across a cave and when you hopped out of his arms and smelled the inside you were hit with the smell of rotten milk, you were in the right place. You beckoned him and as soon as he stepped in he started waving his hand in front of his nose, “Wooo, smells like Cass after too much dairy.” You bit your lip to hide your chuckle as you continued deeper into the cave, “Oh come on, that’s totally something you would say, I don’t even get a chuckle?”
Without turning around you just said “Ha ha,” in as stale of a voice you could muster, “Your almost as funny as me.”
Az’s small laugh echoed off the cave and your stomach turned as you memorized the formula; don’t speak too much, make jokes when prompted, keep a cool demeanor like him. “There she is,” he mused, and before he could go on you spoke.
“And there it is,” the smell was so pungent it was like the glass of toxic milk was right under your nose. You pointed up and thought a small whole in the ceiling there was sparkling lights shining through. Marestone despite its awful smell had a beautiful luminosity and many applications, it was embude I’m most magical technology as well as cured to be used in different medicines. The potent material would last for years as a single rock could be split between a hundred different uses.
“Give me a boost,” you said putting your hand on his shoulder and lifting your leg for him, he just looked at you dumbly.
“I’m not sending you up there,” he shook his head and moved your hand.
“Well your not gonna fit,” when he cut you a look your raised your hands defensively, you both knew it was true. There’s no way the big Illyrian warrior with the mega wingspan was fitting through that hole.
“Okay and what happens when you fall? Or the integrity of the cave gives out under you?” He put his hands on his hips in a mock attempt to show sincerity and you matched his movement.
“Ye of little faith,” you said wagging a finger, he just smiled. “Are you trying to extend this trip by another day? They grow on the ceiling, it’ll take forever to find another cave with rocks lower down.”
He just shrugged, “Okay,” he turned to walk away and your attempt to stay cool was thwarted when you groaned loudly.
“Fine, if you won’t help me up I’ll find my own way,” you started pawing at the cave wall, trying to find any wholes or cracks you could use to pull yourself up.
“Okay okay, with my luck you’ll kill yourself trying,” he came over and put his hands on your waist as he guided you away from the cave wall and easily lifted you up towards the whole. When that didn’t work he sat you on his shoulder before lifting you again at the knees, you stretched to reach through the whole and hoisted yourself up, sitting on the edge you had your feet dangling down towards Azriel who kept a hand on your ankle and watched from below.
You pulled out one of the four sealed canister and began pulling the soft rock out of the ceiling and filling it up. It didn’t take long to fill up the first, second, and third canister. The fourth is where you ran into trouble, you’d grabbed all the stone close to you so the rest was slightly out of reach. You pulled your ankle out of Azriel grasp and placed in on the other side of the hole as you stretched your body to reach the stones.
The canister was nearly full when your foot slid, “Are you okay? Can you reach it?” You called out letting him know you were fine and almost done, you moved to grab the last bit you could see when your foot slipped completely and the force dragged your body out of the whole.
Like the knight in shining armor he his Az caught you before you could hit the floor, clutching the glowing canister to your chest you stared up at him in awe. Sure, he would’ve caught anyone that fell but the way his arms were tight around you and his breathing ragged as he searched your face had your heart lurching.
When he caught you it snapped fully for him, you were his mate and there was no denying it. He felt like time slowed and all he could do was stare at your face, memorizing everything he missed before. He pulled on the bond and felt it was one sided and that caused his heart to surge, all of your flirting was because you wanted to and not because of a premature snapping of the bond.
Clearing your throat you jumped out of his arms and dusted yourself off before tucking the canister away. You mumbled your thanks before moving to the exit of the cave.
“Thanks?” He said genuinely sounding confused as he followed you, “No swooning and calling me ‘your hero,’” mocking your voice on the last part which earned him a scoff from you.
“I do know how to be serious Azriel”
“Yea but why would you want to? And since when do you use my real name?”
“Because I don’t want to make this trip miserable for you, and that was a stupid nickname anyway.” You squinted and used your hand as a shield when you stepped back in the sun, Az on your heels.
“Miser- what are you talking about?” He grabbed your wrist and turned you around to face him but you couldn’t meet his eyes so you just shook your head and looked down.
“Nothing, it’s- it’s nothing at all,” you tried to pull your wrist back but his grip was like iron. Your breath hitched when an unexpected and gentle hand traced your jaw and stopped at your chin, lifting your head up and bringing your eyes to his golden ones.
“If it’s making you upset then it’s not nothing,” his hand slipped to cup your cheek and your delusion allowed you to lean into the touch, reveling in its warmth. Your eyes fluttered closed and for a blissful second you let yourself believe he cared, “Talk to me baby.”
The pet name had your eyes flying open and suddenly the spell was broken, you pulled his hand away and pushed him back. The hope his simple actions had given you had you biting back tears, “Don’t call me baby. I’m not a child that needs coddling,” you spat out your words like poison on your tongue
“No I’m not-“ he tried to step forward but you matched him with a step back.
“I know Azriel, I know you don’t like me. I know you find me unbearable and annoying. I know you can never like me for who I truly am,” the tears were getting harder to push back, “Today when I acted different you seemed so much happier but that hurts more- it hurts more than your cold glares because I like you. Every since I met you all I’ve wanted is to make you laugh but-“ you were cut off by your own hiccup and your balled fist came up to wipe your tears but his shadows beat you to it.
Like a flash of lightning he was on you, cupping your cheeks and staring with wide, scared eyes. “No, no, no,” his words were soft when he tilted his forehead down to meet yours, your hands instinctively tried to pull on his wrists but he held true.
“Baby,” his low voice called to you and you closed your eyes tight as more tears fell, “Baby please don’t cry. I’m sorry, this is all my fault.” Your eyes opened again when his voice cracked and you could see he had his own tears he was fighting to keep at bay. You never thought you would see him look so sad, so broken.
“I was so mean to you, I tried to block you out and push you away because you’re everything I’m not. Your bright and fun and so damn happy, I couldn’t figure out what you saw in me and the fact that you even liked me so brazenly made me hate you- but not because of you or who you are but because of me and all of the shit I’ve spent centuries running from.
“You are not the one who has to change, I am. I’m so so sorry I ever made you feel like the real you wasn’t good enough, it’s so much more than enough. I’ll spend forever proving it to you.”
Tears were still clouding your vision so you blinked quickly to let them fall before you brought your hands to his face, moving your head back so you could inspect him. He was serious, and that made your heart jump like it was trying to leave your chest and fly into his. You just shook your head when you brought his lips down to yours.
It was like throwing fresh meat to starving lions, the originally soft kiss dissolved into a mess of frenzied passion and primal hunger. His hand tangled into your hair pulling your head in while the other pressed your bodies together firmly before tracking the curves of your body. Your hands were just as wild as they moved between pulling the hair on his nape to clawing his shoulders and neck. When his tongue darted out to swipe across your bottom lip, it snapped.
You flew back out of his grasp and stared as your one hand felt the lips that were now swollen and the other was on your heart that was now being pulled towards the man in front of you- to your mate. Azriel was your mate. You almost didn’t believe it, tugging on the bond to make sure it was real. A laugh left your lips when he tugged back, twice. Stepping back into his arms you kissed him again, slower this time as you memorized the way your lips molded together.
“You’re my mate,” you said breathlessly when you finally pulled away. He smiled down and nodded, you were grinning like a kid in a candy store. From the moment you met him he was all you ever wanted and now you could feel the bond that tied your hearts together, the string that always pulled you to him even before you knew of its existence. You wished you could find the mother and thank her personally for the blessing that was looking down at you with pure unbridled love and sending his feelings of adoration down the bond.
“That is if you’ll have me,” his arms circled your waist and his nose moved to the column of your neck, brushing up and down as he breathed you deep into his lungs. He hummed lightly before going on, “Can you forgive me for being such an asshole?”
You smiled to yourself, “I don’t know Azzy baby, I think you’re going to have to make it up to me.” A playful growl bubbled up as he lightly nipped your throat, earning him a surprised yelp.
You ended up feeding him some of the trail mix you made and the frenzy kicked in at your newly accepted bond. It’s safe to say you two didn’t make it home that night, or any night for the next month as you basked in the joys of being mated.
A/N: AHHHHHHHHHH my first fic😭
It felt a little rushed and slightly juvenile but I had so much fun writing her. I hope if you enjoyed it and if you hated it… no you didn’t tf?
Lols but srsly I love genuine feedback and if you got this far I LOVE YOU!!
Masterlist
#acotar azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel one shot#azriel shadowsinger#acotar#acosf#acowar#acomaf#acofas#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfiction#acotar fanfic#azriel spymaster#acotar oneshot#azriel fluff#azriel fic
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besotted
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 3.7k
warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff
summary: Rhys and Feyre have asked you to babysit Nyx for the day, meaning you get to spend the whole time enjoying one of your favourite weaknesses: your mate cuddling cute babies.
a/n: thank you so much for the love, it's been so lovely 🫶🏻. this fic is completely self-indulgent - I don't even want children but the thought of handsome men with babies? lord have mercy. My inbox is always open for a chat or fic suggestions /requests. Enjoy loves.
Velaris was truly stunning in every season, every weather, at any time of day, but for you, your favourite time in the city was during the height of summer. When the weather was perfect, the warmth not too stifling, and the evenings cool, the sun glistened on the smooth water of the Sidra, and the air was filled with the soft chattering and laughter of its citizens that lasted well into the evening.
A soft grin played on your lips as you strolled through the streets of the city you had grown up in, the warm breeze gently blowing the gauzy material of your trousers and licking at the stretch of skin exposed at the waist due to the cropped top you wore - the beautiful outfit a gift from your close friend Amren who shared your sense of style. Your confident and sure steps took you past familiar shops, filled to the brim with their exquisite wares as you approached the handful of shops you needed to visit.
As you neared the first shop you needed to visit, you turned your head slightly when you felt one of those familiar shadows that followed you everywhere. It slipped up your arm and affectionally curled around the skin between where your shoulder met your neck. The darkness cooled your warm skin, causing a soft smile to fall on your lips when you thought of the man to whom they belonged. Since being mated to Azriel, a handful of his shadows were always with you, and you had grown very fond of your own little shadows. According to the spymaster, they had left him on their own accord, feeling as protective of you as their master did. They acted almost as a messenger service between you and your mate.
"Are you okay, babe? One of your shadows just tapped me on the shoulder." As you entered the small shop, you spoke gently through that sparkling, glimmering thread you shared with your favourite person in the whole wide world.
"When are you heading back?" His deep, midnight-laced voice slipped into your mind, and you had to hold back the involuntary shudder as you touched one of the children's toys hanging on a rack before you.
"Why are you missing me already, Az?" Judging by the chuckle you heard that echoed in your head, he could practically hear the teasing smirk in your words.
"Always, sweetheart." There was a pause, and your eyebrows furrowed. You realized that something was actually amiss, and he wanted you home. "Nyx is fussing, and I don't know what to do."
This time, you chuckled out loud as you grabbed the toy from the rack and took it to the counter at the back of the shop to pay for it. You smiled gently at the shopkeeper, who warmly greeted you.
"He's probably hungry, babe; give him one of those bottles Feyre left. They're in the fridge." Rhys and Feyre had to attend a last-minute meeting today with the Court of Nightmares and Eris from the Autumn Court. They politely asked if you and Azriel could babysit Nyx on short notice. Initially, Azriel had put up a bit of a fuss, arguing that he needed to be there at the meeting, but Rhys had reasoned that Cassian would be there, as would Mor and Amren. Plus, he would show Az everything through his daemati ability. Feyre had sweetened the blow by telling Az you and him were Nyx's favourite aunt and uncle and that they trusted him the most to look after their precious son.
You had beamed at Azriel's shocked face, winking at Rhys as you had shared in your amusement. Azriel was absolutely besotted with the tiny babe and would protect him with his life if needed. You had no doubt Azriel would immediately sacrifice his life for Nyx, no questions asked. Privately, you had agreed entirely with the idea of you and Azriel protecting Nyx from a security perspective - both of you ready to use your extensive abilities to protect the tiny fae - but also because it meant you could watch Azriel cuddle the baby. In the last couple of months, it had become one of your favourite weaknesses when it came to the shadowsinger.
"Oh yeah, ok." Relief washed down the bond as he moved towards the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the fridge, remembering how to warm it and test its temperature.
"You've babysat Nyx before, Az; you're a natural at this—trust your instincts, babe." You assured him as you passed the money over to the shopkeeper, gave her a warm smile, thanked her, and took the small bag she set on her counter. Wishing her a goodbye, you left the shop and stepped back into the warm streets of Velaris, heading towards the next shop.
"I've never babysat him before on my own!" You could practically hear the panic in his voice, and you shook your head absentmindedly at his lack of confidence in something he was exceptionally good at.
"You're his favourite uncle for a reason, Az! I won't be long, promise."
"Hurry back, sweetheart. I miss you too." A warm caress reached you through the bond, accompanied by the feeling of his shadows sliding up your thigh, the phantom feeling of his hands on your skin causing you to jolt ever so slightly. Wicked little things.
You had been hesitant to leave the Town House, which you and Az now called yours, this afternoon, but with Nyx arriving at such short notice, you needed more time to get some supplies in. You desperately needed some baby stuff and food for both yourself and your mate. You were just exchanging money with the butcher when you felt another frantic pulse through your bond.
"Babe, he's crying again! He's had the whole bottle." You sent your mate a pulse of affection through his bond, trying to calm him down as you slid the package of food you had just brought into one of your bags.
"Sweetheart, you need to burp him now." You gently reminded him.
"Oh shit yeah." You laughed at your mate, drawing some strange looks from passersby, which caused a slight blush to rise on your cheeks.
"No cursing around the baby!" This time, you felt Azriel's amusement through the bond, a warm beat of laughter that you would spend forever trying to coax from him - his laughter, deep, rich and full, was one of your favourite sounds.
"He can't hear me." He reasoned, his voice now calm now that you had given him a plan of action. He thrived in coordination and planning, able to adapt in times of chaos, but he preferred a detailed and methodical approach to everything. Even in the bedroom.
As you stepped out of the final shop, your purchases swinging from your hands, your face turned up to catch the afternoon rays as they gently warmed your face, you felt another shadow creep up your arm to practically tap on your shoulder.
"Fuck, now he's crying so loud I think he might bring the roof down!" Azriel was panicking again, and you could imagine him running his slender fingers through his hair - tuffs of midnight black standing up in a messy array as he started to pace.
"Az, calm down - he needs to sleep." In the Town House, Azriel felt a wave of calm wash over him as he listened to your levelled voice. No hint of irritation or annoyance in your voice. Even after all these years, he still had to fight his instincts that told him you would get tired of him and his pestering, overprotectiveness or panic, but you had been steadfast the entire time. Making sure he felt supported and loved through everything, and he could never be so grateful for the connection you had built together, the love you shared and the life you had crafted with each other.
"I've tried putting him down, but he screams louder." He sounded tired, and you had to stop yourself from teasing, knowing that wasn't what he needed right now.
"Pick him up. He probably wants you to cuddle him while he falls asleep." If you were being honest, you couldn't blame Nyx. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, compares to Azriel's cuddles. You always felt so safe, so protected, and so comforted in his arms.
"Ok, yeah, I can do that. Gods, why are you so good at this love." You chuckled at the exasperation in his voice. Azriel must have been so agitated because, through the bond, he sent you images of him gently picking up a crying Nyx, his sweet face red and crumpled as he cried, and holding him to his chest. You tried so hard not to focus on those broad, beautiful, strong, scarred hands as they firmly held Nyx, thoughts of how he had held you last night entering into your mind unbidden and causing you to stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the path you were walking, "Careful love." You felt Az chuckle.
"Ass." You felt his amusement through the bond and his relief as Nyx began to calm down and snuggled into Azriel. "You're a natural at this, Az, though. I'm nearly home."
"See you soon, love." At the sound of his husky voice, filled with love, you felt your pace pick up as you made your way towards the beautiful home you shared, eager to get home to your waiting mate.
…
The Town House was quiet and bathed in darkness when you stepped inside. Trying to make as little noise as possible, you carefully set your bags on the entryway floor and slipped your shoes off, the cool wooden floor of the house soothing your hot feet.
A handful of shadows flew through the air towards you, darting around your body and playfully getting tangled up in your hair and clothes. They whispered at you to be quiet and told you that Azriel and Nyx were in the main living room.
With a grin on your face, you tip-toed over to the doorway to the living room and leaned against the frame as you took in the heartwarming scene before you. You had to physically stop the tears brimming in your eyes as you gazed at your mate, gently napping on the sofa with a content and fast asleep Nyx resting on his chest, softly snoring in the way only babes can.
The scene before you was so soft and sweet that you indulged yourself for a moment, picturing your own child fast asleep on your mate's strong chest. You stared for a while, marvelling at the beauty of Azriel. His strong arms were exposed due to his sleeveless top, his Illyrian tattoos proudly swirling around his dark skin - arms you know would hold you close in the dead of night, keep you standing when you were weak and protect you until the ends of the earth. His soft, slightly curled, midnight hair gently fell on his proud forehead, making him look almost boyish and not the formidable man he presented to the rest of the world. His soft, full lips that were parted slightly in sleep. His strong jaw and proud nose, his sculpted body and thick thighs. He truly was heaven-sent.
"I can feel you staring." He mumbled through the bond, and you had to stifle a soft laugh. Of course, Azriel wouldn't be entirely asleep - he rarely was; at least some part of him was always awake and alert. You think the only times Az had ever wholly given in to peaceful sleep was those precious weeks after you had accepted your mating bond when he was so tired and content to be next to you and holding you close that he couldn't resist falling into a deep slumber. But only after he had made sure the wards protecting the secluded cabin were still secure, ever the spymaster.
You pushed away from the doorframe and padded towards where your mate was sitting. He opened his eyes slightly, still sleepy from his brief nap, and his lips curled into a warm smile as you approached.
"Hi, love." You whispered as you bent over the back of the sofa to grip his face and press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. Kissing Az was something you would never get over, even after decades together. The feel of his plush but slightly chapped lips against yours, his delicious taste and scent enveloping your senses, had your toes curling against the cold wooden floor.
"I'm so glad you're back." You beamed at him as you stared at his upside-down face, gently stroking his jaw and feeling the slight stubble against the soft skin of your hands.
"Seems like you've got it handled," you teased as you turned your attention to the sleeping child on Azriel's chest. You reached out a hand to gently brush Nyx's soft hair off his forehead, desperately holding in the coo that threatened to leave your lips as he let out a soft sigh and nestled further into Az's chest. Who could blame him, you thought? You had the exact same favourite sleeping position.
"You're definitely better at this than me," he mumbled as you skirted around the sofa to sit beside your mate. He ever so slowly and ever so gently shifted so as not to wake Nyx so you could tuck yourself into his side. His arm curled around your shoulders to bring you closer, planting a gentle kiss on your temple.
"How long has Nyx been asleep?" you whispered as you snuggled closer to your mate, hand reaching out to gently stroke up and down Nyx's back in a soothing manner you knew he liked.
"About 20 minutes." You hummed, proud of Azriel for handling the situation. He had been so nervous around the babe when he was first born—so conscious of the tiny, breakable fae he now felt some reasonability for.
"I'd say you've had it completely covered, babe." Nyx stirred ever so slightly, and you knew from experience that you had exactly 5 minutes before he woke up and was agitated again due to not sleeping enough.
A soft hum filled the quiet air as you got up and gently took the sleeping child from Azriel, whispering soothing noises. He stirred slightly as you manoeuvred him into your arms. You bounced ever so slightly on your toes, continuing to hum a lullaby you had heard Feyre singing to him the other day as you walked over to the travelling crib Azriel had set up next to the sofa. Ever so gently, you lowered Nyx into the plush mattress, stroking a finger down his cheeks in a way you knew he liked as you watched him settle back to sleep.
Azriel just sat back, arms spread out on the back of the sofa behind him, as he watched you so expertly soothe Nyx. He could practically feel his eyes turning into hearts as he watched you, almost unable to control the all-consuming feeling of love that was threatening to spill from him. He loved you so much and had done so for hundreds of years, but in recent months, watching you become so enamoured by your nephew, a new tentative love grew.
You turned around, and Azriel offered you one of his sweet smiles before holding out an outstretched hand and silently bidding you to return to his side. With a matching grin, you took his hand and let him pull you in beside him before shifting you both, so you were lying down on the sofa, both facing Nyx as Azriel wound his arms around you to pull you flush against his chest.
A feeling of absolute contentment flooded Azriel as you lay there, breathing in your sweet scent and kissing your soft hair. You shifted closer to him, fingers stroking over his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you close. Mirroring smiles danced on your lips as you watched your nephew and enjoyed the comfortable silence that had settled over the Town House.
"I love seeing you with Nyx Az." You whispered into the soft silence, and you felt a pulse of utter adoration through the thread you both shared.
"Hmmm, do you, love?" He mumbled into your hair, an ear-splitting grin stretching on his lips. He was unable to deny that primal part of him that basked in the glow of your words—that you had admitted enjoying seeing him with children.
"It's my ultimate weakness." He chuckled softly.
"Seeing you with him is mine, too," he confessed back, his arms loosening as you turned around to face him. For a minute, you just looked at him, eyes drinking in his handsome face, flitting over his lips and his nose before settling on his hazel eyes, which were gazing at you with such emotion that a lump formed at the back of your throat.
Slowly, lazily, you brought your hand up to trace the features of his face before gently pushing a soft curl of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. The ring he had gifted you nearly 60 years ago glinted in the dim light.
"Have you ever considered it?" You whispered shyly. It wasn't a topic you had discussed with Azriel much; there simply hadn't been enough time. Shortly after the bond had snapped for the both of you - after years of pining and yearning for each other - Rhys had gone under the mountain. You had spent those long years trying to hold everyone together, and then Rhys had returned, and you had been focused on bringing him and Feyre back from that dark place where they had found themselves. Then, the devastating war you had all been plunged into. It had not been an environment you could ever bring a child into.
"What?" He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the words come from your lips.
"Having children of our own?" The words felt fragile between you. Deep down, you knew you were both on the same page, but still, this was not a conversation you had had before. The soft smile dancing on Az's lips soothed you, however, as he, too, brought his hand up to delicately trace your features.
"I didn't think I would ever get the opportunity to be a father, certainly didn't think I would be a good one. But seeing you with Nyx these last couple of months…yeah, I have." His confession was soft, and you couldn't help yourself as you closed that small distance between you two to press your lips to his in a kiss that held a promise and contained all of the love you could ever feel for the male. His arms wrapped tightly around you again as he held you close and lost himself in the delicious feeling of your lips on his.
You broke away gently, slowly, languidly, eyes still closed as you leaned in to press short kisses to his lips. Resting your forehead against his, you stayed there, breathing him in, hands softly caressing his face. "You will be such a good dad, Az. You will be patient, kind and considerate. Fun when you want to be, firm when you need to be, and comforting when they're sad or frustrated. I've thought about it too." You made sure you delivered the words whilst looking him in the eyes, conveying just how much you meant the words.
"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse, and you spotted tears brimming in his beautiful eyes, your heart breaking in your chest at the fact that he had so desperately needed to hear the words. You leaned in to kiss his lips again, hand resting on his chest to feel his thundering heart as he breathed in a shaky breath.
"I don't think I'm ready just yet. I still want to experience life with you," you whispered, an amused smirk playing on your lips. You hadn't had enough time with Az yet. There was still so much of the world to see, so many things you wanted to explore with just your mate before you put down roots and grew a beautiful family of your own.
"I feel the same." He reassured, pulling you closer again, desperate to make sure not a single inch of space was between you two.
"But when the time is right, when we are ready. It would bring me nothing but joy to have children together." A stunning smile you had not seen before stretched across Azriel's face, and you gasped at the powerful pulse that reverberated down the bond from your mate. It was pure light—beautiful, gleaming light—such happiness radiating from between you two that you imagined both of your skins glowing with it.
"I love you so much, Y/N." He said reverently.
"I love you too." The distance between your lips closed again as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, tilting your head slightly to deepen in - determined to convey just how much you love him, how thankful you are to the Mother and the Cauldron for giving you, Azriel as your mate. You felt him moan softly as you slipped your tongue past the seam of his lips, gently licking into his mouth as you swallowed the soft sounds you were both making. You pulled away with a mischievous grin dancing on your lips, "Gods, our kids would be cute."
"Do you think so?" He asked, pushing your hair behind your pointed ears so he could see your face clearly.
"What, you don't?" You asked in mock shock and horror, causing another chuckle to rumble through his chest.
"As long as they take after you, sweetheart, they will be the cutest children Prythian has ever seen." You laughed at him, but secretly, you hoped they looked nothing like you and took after the incredible man you had been mated to for all of these years—that they had his kind eyes, gentle smile, and luxurious locks of soft midnight hair.
"I can't wait." You whispered as you laid your head down beside him, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent of mist and cedar, the smell of home.
"Neither can I, my love." He whispered back to you as he held you close, kissing your hairline and temple. You both let your heavy eyelids droop as your limbs tangled on the sofa. Nyx continued to sleep softly beside you. One day soon, it would be your child in that crib, you promised yourself and Az through that golden thread deep in your heart before you both fell peacefully asleep.
#azriel acotar#azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#azriel fluff#azriel imagine#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar fic#acotar oneshot#azriel shadowsinger#acotar#acotar fluff#azriel one shot#acotar x reader#acotar imagine#rhysand#feyre archeron
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gone. | 3
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader
Word Count: 5.9K
Warnings: Slight angst, drinking alcohol, nightmares, slight mentions of death.
Summary: Sometimes it take's heartbreak to move on...or to realise what you've always had.
<< Previous Part
To celebrate your return, Mor insisted on a night out at Rita's. Despite your lingering exhaustion and the pull of a quiet weekend begging you to spend it sleeping and reading, you didn’t have the heart to say no to her.
That evening, you prioritised finishing your reports before joining your friends at Rita's. You had always been exceptionally dutiful in your role, taking immense pride in your responsibilities. Though Mor grumbled at your decision to work, she reluctantly agreed to meet you there later, with the rest of the group.
As you worked alone, you cherished the moments of silence. After six months of solitude, acclimatising to the hustle and bustle of family life was both exciting and well… exhausting. And navigating your relationship with Azriel wasn’t the easiest, you were trying, trying really hard in fact. And although you had fallen into old patterns, it was still a little awkward at times.
Azriel had perhaps had the most enjoyable week he’d experienced since you’d left all those months ago. Everyone had noticed how the tension had eased from his shoulders, warmth had returned to his eyes and how finally, his lips would pull into a full smile again. Azriel hadn’t allowed himself a moment of happiness since you left, in fact he quickly realised in your absence how you were the cause of most of his smiles. So your eagerness to mend a bridge between you both had been greatly appreciated, and he had relished in having your company back.
Yet, despite the familiarity in your interactions– friendly banter, teasing laughter and comforting silence. Azriel still felt the weight of your confession, and what it had done to him. How it had peeled back the layers on himself, revealing something that threatened the very dynamic you had begged for when you came back.
Best friends again?
Your words reverberated in his mind, a relentless echo of your plea. Azriel had teetered on the edge of refusal, almost said no, on the brink of voicing his own desire for something more. Admitting that just being friends would no longer be enough. But he found himself frozen under your vulnerable gaze, he had faltered, he too, consumed with the fear of unsettling the delicate relationship between you. The idea of risking your friendship was too daunting, too uncertain. It was safer to remain friends, safer to keep things as they were.
So he had remained silent.
Azriel took another sip of his drink, listening to his family laughing around their designated table at Rita’s. You weren’t here yet, your usual spot next to him and Mor still empty. Mor had mentioned you were wrapping up some work, and a part of him couldn't shake the urge to seek you out. He was contemplating sending his shadows to check on you.
Again.
His shadows had been silent watchers since you came back, although you hadn’t you seemed to mind. In fact after spending six months with a few of the smoky tendrils, you actually welcomed their company. Each morning, you were greeted by at least one shadow curling around your cheek, or if you were away from the group for too long, a shadowy companion would appear to give you a light whispery kiss on your skin.
Whether they acted of their own accord or at Azriel's behest remained unclear to you.
He had always been protective of his family, but it only intensified with you since your return. It becoming somewhat obsessive. He couldn’t stop himself though, and you hadn’t rejected his shadows yet, so he took that as silent confirmation that he could continue.
“Gods, the girl has always known how to dress.” Amren said approvingly, her words pulling Azriel out of his thoughts. He followed her gaze to the entrance of Ritas, where a familiar figure seemed to capture the attention of the room.
You.
Dressed in a black lacy number, you exuded an alluring energy. In fact you always had, but Azriel in all his centuries of knowing you had done a remarkable job of ignoring it. The dress was classy in shape, but the sheerness added that Night Court sex appeal you always carried so well. A little black thong and bralette peeked through the sheer fabric, while the lace hugged all your curves.
You had always captured the attention of everyone, a trait of yours that had only become more endearing to Azriel as the years went on. But previously, he would bury those thoughts and feelings in the darkest recesses of his mind, never to be touched. Them only slipping out occasionally in his dreams.
Those particular dreams had plagued his sleep for centuries now, his deepest desires burying themselves in his consciousness to slide out when he drifted into a slumber. His suppressed desires manifesting themselves in vivid dreams, visions of you that often made him struggle with what was real or illusion.
Some dreams were innocent, filled with whispered conversations under the starry nights. Dreams of taking you flying while your melodic laugh filled his ears. It was those nights he slept soundly, his mind surrendering to the hazy false reality.
There were also those darker dreams. More forbidden.
The kind that made it hard for him to look at you the next day. It was those dreams he struggled to stir from, the kind of dreams where he’d find you waiting for him in his bed, or where he’d wake still hearing your moans and the taste of you on his lips.
He’d had more of those dreams since you’d come back, and he knew he would definitely have that problem tonight after seeing you in that dress.
Was it really a problem though?
He couldn’t pretend that those dreams weren’t some of his favourites. As guilty as they made him feel.
And now, after everything. Knowing that there had been a possibility you could have been his, that feeling you, tasting you could have been his reality– he found it hard to steer his gaze. Hard to ignore your allure. Hard to believe he ever could have been so blind.
Pretty, pretty, pretty.
His shadows coiled round his ear to chant, it was information he didn’t need. Because he already knew how beautiful you were.
He watched as you sauntered in, flashing a smile and small wave to regulars you recognised. A male had reached out, gently tugging on your arm for your attention, Azriel swore he heard him beg you to come dance.
“Maybe later,” you replied sweetly.
He was glad you rejected that male, glad he didn’t have to watch you dance with someone else, not that he had a right to feel that way. Azriel’s eyes followed the sway of your dress as it cascaded down to calf-length. He was mesmerised by you, and when he caught your scent he had to stop a quiet groan rolling up his throat.
Careful Azriel, you’re almost salivating there. It was Rhys’ talons that had clawed on Azriel’s mind, only for him to tease as soon as he was granted access.
Azriel shot Rhys a dark glare.
Fuck off.
Rhys merely laughed into Azriel’s mind. I’m just reminding you, that’s not how you look at a friend.
I said fuck off.
How you stayed composed all those centuries, to merely crumble now I’ll never understand.
Azriel was fast to push Rhys out his mind, while you took your seat beside him. “I got you a drink,” Azriel said to you, pushing your favourite cocktail your way.
“Thanks Az,” you beamed, picking the glass up to sip of the sweet concoction. A soft giggle left your lips as one of his shadows, coiled round the glass up your hand, to greet and pepper you with kisses.
He wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked, the words on the tip of his tongue but there was this fear holding him back.
“ME-OWW, I want a bite of you!” Mor teased, her fingers grabbing your waist pulling you closer to her on the bench.
“Was that Orion giving you those sex-eyes?” she spoke loudly, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. She had clearly seen the interaction you’d had with an old admirer of yours.
You shrugged nonchalantly in response, opting to sip your drink instead of answer.
“We aren’t the only ones to have missed you it seems.” Nesta purred from across the table, joining in on Mor’s suggestiveness.
“Put the poor male out of his misery and fuck him already.” Amren smirked, stating an obvious solution.
The table erupted in amusement, words of encouragement and teasing remarks filling the air. It was definitely an option, one worth considering. Especially after that crushing rejection from Azriel.
And Orion was undeniably attractive. He had that deep dark tan with vibrant blond hair that offered a stark contrast to Azriel. It would be a welcome distraction.
However he could never match Azriel’s beauty.
You noticed how strikingly handsome Azriel was looking tonight, dressed in all black just like you. Always so smart and chic, the pair of you always dressed that way. Mor had pointed out years ago, you both always seemed to coordinate effortlessly. Her comment had sparked a glimmer of hope within you, something you had desperately clung to. That maybe yours and Azriel’s connection was deeper, and a small part of you had fantasised at the possibility that maybe you were mates.
In the end it had just been wishful thinking. Fulled by your own affection and longing. You and Azriel were fated to be only friends.
And that would be enough.
You rolled your bottom lip into your mouth, glancing behind you with Mor to look at the male. A large shit-eating grin on his face as he winked at you. He was quite the charmer.
“Hmmm maybe,” you replied to your friends quietly as you turned back to face them, Mor bumping her shoulder with yours gently in response.
Maybe this was how you would move on from Azriel? By getting under someone else.
You’re not sure why you felt compelled to look, why you cared what he thought, but your gaze steered to your side. Gazing up at your handsome darked-haired friend. Azriel’s eyes were already on you. There was an intensity in his eyes that caught you off guard.
He didn’t appear impressed, neither angry nor happy. “You’re too good for him,” he stated quietly, before taking a sip of his drink again.
You wanted to respond, ask what he meant by that. Ask why he even cared, why it even mattered. Casual rendezvous’ didn’t hold some kind of standards, and your partners didn’t need to meet whatever expectations Azriel suddenly had for you.
“Oh shut it Az! She deserves to get laid, she didn’t get to have any fun on her trip and that was six months long!” Mor reiterated her rhetoric from the other day.
You rolled your eyes, about to interject to remind her once again you were not on some half-year vacation.
“It was not some trip but a high-stakes mission yadda yadda” Mor chimed, mimicking you.
You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing, the female really knew how to open you up. Her teasing, her probing, was relentless to some. But had always worked on you. Pulling back those walls.
Giving her a playful glint you spoke, “I almost had some fun if you must know.”
For some reason, you found yourself stealing a glance at Azriel, curious about his reaction. He had never taken an interest in your romantic encounters in the past, so his sudden attention confused you.
Azriel tensed at your words, chewing the inside of his cheek before taking another sip of his drink. It was Rhys that was watching him with that infamous smirk. Azriel wanted to wipe it clean off his brother’s face.
I told you to fuck off.
Rhys only laughed back into his brother's mind.
“Give me all the details.” Mor squealed, clasping your hands in hers.
You shrugged, your lips curing into a soft smirk, retelling how you had met this mysterious male on your travels. “He was really cute…handsome…had these gorgeous eyes,” you sighed dramatically, your eyes gazing off into the distance, hand on your heart. “But he was the enemy, so I had to kill him.”
Your friends laughed in response, some of them shaking their heads in disbelief. Nesta leaned across the table with a dark glint in her eye, “You could have had a bit of fun first.”
You scoffed playfully at the notion, hand waving in the air dismissively. “Etiquette darling. I don’t like playing with my food before eating,” you purred.
Nesta shook her head with a smirk, “I’ve missed you, come dance.”
It wasn’t so much a request as it was a command when it came to Nesta and dancing. You rose from your seat, Mor and Feyre joining you eagerly as you made your way into the crowd, letting the music engulf you.
Azriel’s eyes, though, stayed glued on you.
"She's not going anywhere, Az," Cassian chuckled, downing the rest of his drink. It was easy for Cassian to assume Azriel’s obsessive nature had spun from your absence, from your dangerous mission, just Azriel’s natural protectiveness of all his family members, but of course that wasn’t the only reason.
He couldn't help but watch you, captivated by every movement. Not when you looked like that, when you moved like that, smelt like that.
Your confession had torn him a part, shattered his perception, forcing him to confront feelings he'd long buried. Make him acknowledge a possible reality he never considered himself worthy of. Azriel couldn't shake the image of what could have been, a world where it would have been your body swaying against his tonight.
Cassian had smacked his empty glass on the table now, shouting that he’d get another round in as he walked over to the bar.
“So what are you going to do, Azriel?” Rhys then asked, his own eyes never leaving Feyre who was dancing drunkenly with you.
Azriel glanced briefly at Amren, who remained at the table, swirling her drink absently. She didn't meet his gaze, clearly uninterested in being dragged into the complexities of her family's relationships.
"I don’t think you'll have four centuries to pine for her this time," Rhys remarked quietly. "I don’t think she'll wait that long."
Azriel drew in a sharp breath at Rhys’ words, his gaze still tracing the contours of your form. His breath caught as he realised your eyes had found him from across the crowded room. A soft smile forming on your lips, prompting him to give you one back in return.
If this was all he could have of you. Would it be enough?
❊
“Az…”
He heard someone calling his name. That familiar melodic tone.
“…Azriel wake up,” that soft sweet voice sang to him.
Only that voice could pull him from his deepest dreams and nightmares.
Azriel stirred, his consciousness slowly emerging from the recesses of sleep. Blinking groggily, he glanced around his dimly lit room, his mind clouded with confusion.
His head throbbed faintly, a dull ache pulsating behind his temples. Had he drank too much? He couldn't remember.
He turned on his side to face where your voice had called him, only to find you laying beside him. Why were you here? What had happened last night?
There was a soft smile gracing your lips. You were adorned in a delicate white nightgown, that seemed to shimmer in the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. You were a vision of ethereal beauty— and you were in his bed. A sight that left Azriel momentarily breathless.
How had this come to be?
You were so close to him, only a breath away from his face. So close, he could feel the warmth radiating from your body. For a fleeting moment, he almost let himself get lost in your gaze. Those eyes, he loved so much. He often dreamt of them, lost himself in them, and searched for them in a crowded room. He loved the way they crinkled when you laughed. A sight he would never tire from seeing.
His mind was reeling though, he couldn't recall getting into bed. Or when you joined him.
"It's time, Az..." you whispered.
Azriel didn’t understand.
"Time for what?" Azriel mumbled, his brow furrowing in bewilderment.
Your words were sickly sweet, dripping with an unsettling ambiguity that sent shivers down his spine. But before he could make sense of them, your fingers were threading through his hair, and he found himself paralysed by the intimacy of the touch.
"It's just time," you murmured softly, your smile masking a deeper sorrow. Your voice echoing through the caverns of his mind like a haunting melody.
But time for what?
Azriel's confusion deepened, his heart pounding in his chest. Something was wrong, he could sense it.
Where were his shadows?
Before he could question you further, he watched as you closed the small gap between you, pressing your lips to his.
As your lips met, there was a sensation of weightlessness over Azriel. As if he was suspended in a realm where time held no sway. It was silent, peaceful and felt endless. He wasn’t sure why or how this was happening, but he couldn’t bring himself to question. Couldn’t bring himself to break away.
No, not now. Not now he had you.
His heart swelled with a mixture of joy and disbelief. You were finally his, finally in his arms.
He felt you against him. Your body plush to his, melting into his touch. A warmth vibrated through his chest, as your breaths mingled. Azriel’s arms wrapped around you tighter, as if terrified this would all slip away.
Wait, something was wrong. But Azriel, lost to your touch, couldn’t remember what.
The softness of your kisses against his lips was like a sweet melody, stirring something deep within him. He craved more, his hunger for you insatiable, as if he could never get enough to quench the burning desire within him.
This was what he had been searching for all those years. All those times he got it wrong, thinking it was someone else. It had in fact been right in front of him the whole time– you.
He could feel you pulling away. Azriel looked at you now, noticing that sorrowful expression on your face again.
“It’s time…I have to move on now,” you smiled sadly.
"Move on...what do you mean?" he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I've waited so long, Az...too long," you replied, your words laced with a haunting sense of finality.
Unable to find the right words, Azriel watched helplessly as you began to slip away, sliding out of his arms and off the bed. He tried to move, tried to grab you, stop you, pull you back but you were slipping through his fingers like water.
A cold breeze swept through the room, sending goosebumps over his body. The air seemed to grow thicker, heavier, as if the very atmosphere was connected with your emotion.
Panic gripped his chest, like a claw had clasped his heart and it was squeezing it with every heartbeat. Desperation was flooding his senses as he reached out for you, his voice cracking with emotion. Something was wrong.
“Wait don’t leave y/n, I’ve been meaning to tell you–”
"Will you make me wait another 400 years, Azriel?" your voice echoed in his mind, the haunting tone of your voice shaking him.
His body felt as if it were encased in stone, every movement sluggish and strained. No matter how hard he tried to rise from the bed, he could only manage to shift to its edge, his limbs refusing to obey his desperate commands.
In the doorway of his room, you stood, your form bathed in an eerie half-light that cast strange shadows across your face. Fear etched lines of worry into your features, your eyes wide with a terror that mirrored his own.
Something was wrong. You needed to come back to him, back to his arms where it was safe.
"I may not live that long," you cried out, your voice raw with anguish, the sound of it tearing at his soul.
Azriel tried again, ragging his limbs to try to get closer to you. Then in that moment, time itself seemed to warp and twist, as if the hands of fate were turning the clock.
Azriel could only watch in horror as you began to age before his eyes, each passing second drawing lines of time upon your skin. Your once youthful visage contorted and twisted, suddenly you began to wither, flesh peeling away like petals from a dying flower.
Your scream was piercing through his skull, your hands trying to hold onto the pieces of flesh that were burning away until there was nothing left.
Tears were streaming down his face as Azriel stumbled off his bed, his heart pounding with a frantic urgency. His rapid uncoordinated footsteps matched his heartbeat. He felt drugged. But that didn’t matter, he needed to find you. He ran out of his room into a darkness that seemed to swallow him whole, his voice a desperate plea echoing through the empty halls.
"Come back...please," he cried out, his words carried away by the chilling breeze that surrounded him. Each step he took felt heavier than the last, his limbs weighed down by a crushing weight. "I won't make you wait…please...please," he begged, his voice suffocating with painful emotion.
“Azriel…” he heard a voice.
“Y/n,” he cried out again. But only darkness answered him.
“Azriel! Wake up!” It wasn’t your voice, no, someone was shouting. Someone was shaking him.
Suddenly the darkness faded, and the face of his brother speckled into his vision. Rhys had his hands gripped to the side of Azriel’s face.
Rhys and Mor had stayed up for the night, lounging with some faerie wine, reminiscing as the house slept silently. But then they’d hear screaming, and before they could even move Azriel had stumbled down the hall screeching your name. It was clear to Rhys, that Azriel was entrapped in some disorientating nightmare, and he had used his talons to pull him from the deathly grips of the dream.
“It’s a dream brother, only a dream” he tried to reassure him.
But Azriel’s eyes were searching, looking for you.
Azriel was slumped on the floor, his knees under him. Rhys and Mor pulled him against a wall, hoping the cool stone would bring him to his senses. His shadows were frantically buzzing around him. Attempting but failing to console him.
“Where is y/n?” he managed to choke out.
Not here, not here, not here. His shadows whispered in his ear.
Mor stepped forward, concern on her face “She’s with Orion. You know this…” she spoke softly.
Slowly slivers of reality seemed to sink into place. His dream had felt like eternity, and yet it had only been a few hours since you had all left Rita’s.
No you hadn’t left, you had stayed. Stayed with him, stayed with Orion.
He had been too late. Too late to find the courage, too late to speak his truth.
That male. Orion, had found you on the dance floor. Ensnared your attention for the evening, had charmed you. Charmed you enough that you hadn’t returned with your family, that you had stayed to seek the comfort of him that night.
Not Azriel. He had been too late.
Azriel had curled in on himself, knees brought to his chest as sobs began to rack through his body. The talons of the nightmare still clung to him, dragging him back into its clutches. Senseless words left his lips, your name rolling off his tongue repetitively.
"I was too late…" he cried, his voice choking with anguish. "Rhys, you have to save her… she… her face… Rhys… she was dying."
“I think you might need to call for y/n, Rhys,” Mor suggested, her concern evident as she crouched near Azriel. He was trapped in a dreamlike state, caught between the realms of reality and imagination. When she reached out to touch him, he only flinched away, lost in his own torment.
Azriel was drenched in sweat, his body burning with fever as he struggled to distinguish between what was real and what was not. As much as Rhys tried, Azriel’s mind was a mess. He couldn’t decipher what was right in front of him and what was in his mind.
To him you were gone, he’d seen it with his own eyes. He had failed you.
"What's going on?" Your voice cut through the tense air, drawing the attention of Mor and Rhys.
You stood in the doorway of the lounge, your hair tousled and your nightgown askew as if someone had forcefully dragged you from the depths of your own dreams. In fact that is exactly what had happened. Azriel’s shadows were circling you, pulling and tugging you relentlessly, just as they had awoken you.
You could tell from their desperate plea something was wrong, and it had only taken you a matter of seconds to run from your room.
"We thought... I thought you'd gone home with—" Rhys began, but you shook your head, your expression filled with concern as you took in Azriel's state. Without hesitation, you moved quickly to kneel beside him.
You could have gone home with Orion, almost did. Was tempted, but there was something about the way Azriel had looked at you as they all departed for the night that had gnawed at you. A look of a broken male. His expression, a mixture of sadness…and well, longing. It was confusing.
And unfair. He had rejected you after all.
Yet, there was a vulnerability in his gaze that you couldn’t ignore. Despite his rejection, your heart ached for him. After an hour in Orion's company at the bar, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. So you called it a night and came home.
It had been a long time since you’d seen Azriel caught in a state like this. Azriel didn’t sleep much, but when he did there had been a few times in your years of knowing him that he'd find himself trapped in the liminal space between dreams and reality.
“Hey Az…” you moved to the space in front of him, crouching between the space of his kness. His eyes were skittish, looking at you but through you. It was as if he didn't register your presence at all, trapped in a world of his own making.
“I waited too long…” he breathed out, his fingers tangled in his hair pulling and ragging at the strands.
“Azriel,” you spoke gently but firmly, your voice a lifeline in the darkness that engulfed him. You needed to coax him out of this. “It wasn’t real, only a dream”
A torrent of incomprehensible words spilled from his lips, and you exchanged a glance with Rhys and Mor, who stood nearby, frozen in place.
Over the centuries of being part of this family, you'd all encountered moments like these. Moments where the nightmares and traumas racked over you. However, Azriel had always been more private about his inner turmoil. You realised that this might be the first time Rhys and Mor had witnessed this part of him.
It wasn’t your first time, though. One of the earliest moments you realised you loved Azriel was after he had helped you through a debilitating nightmare, one that had left you screaming in your sleep. From then on, he had always been there to offer comfort in those dark moments.
And you had always been there for him in return.
“I’ve got this…” you reassured them with a soft smile, and they nodded, reluctantly leaving the room. They didn’t want to abandon Azriel in such a state, but they trusted you, trusted that you would only ask this of them if it was for Azriel’s best interest.
You waited for them to leave, the room enveloped in a heavy silence, save for Azriel's incoherent whispers that echoed off the walls.
“I was too late…” he repeated, his voice strained.
“Hmmm were you? What were you late for Azriel?” Again you voice, firm but sweet resounding through the room.
He blinked, finally recognising your presence. His brows furrowed as tears streamed down his face.
“I lost you, I was too late” he choked out.
“You haven't lost me, Az. I'm right here,” you reassured him, your voice a soothing balm.
But Azriel shook his head, haunted by the vivid memory of seeing you slip away before him.
“Tell him, tell him I’m right here.” You spoke, this time towards his shadows.
She’s here. She’s here. They sang.
Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as he listened to his shadows. They had never deceived him before, always guiding him with honesty. So surely what they were saying was true?
You tilted your head slightly, a soft smile gracing your lips as you reached for his hand. His eyes widened at your touch, but he didn’t recoil. He watched as you gently placed his hand against your chest, just above your heart.
Real, real, real. His shadows continued to sing in his ear. Their own feather-light touches caressing his body, cooling him down.
He could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his touch.
Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump. The vibrations of your heart were sobering under his palm. And there was something about the way this felt, so different to the version of you in his dream. Everything was heightened, every sense felt multiplied.
“I’m real Az, and I’m here. It was just a dream, okay?”
Azriel felt a shaky breath leave his lips as his own breathing synced with yours. His rapid heartbeat gradually slowed to match the steady rhythm of yours.
You weren’t gone. But you had chosen someone else.
“But…but you chose someone else,” he sputtered out.
You weren’t sure what he meant. Whether this someone else was what he had dreamed of, or if he meant Orion. But you leaned forward, drawing closer until your faces were mere inches apart, so close that he wouldn’t be able to look away.
“I’ll always choose you, Azriel.” It was the truth. You knew he needed to hear this, he needed reassurance to pull him from the grasp of his nightmare, but it was also unequivocally true. You would always choose him.
You had tonight.
In the opportunity of comfort and pleasure of another, you had chosen Azriel. Even in his rejection. Even if that made you a fool. You would always choose him.
“Really?”
“Always.”
You both sat there for a while, Azriel syncing his breathing to yours as the cloudiness of his vision cleared and he began to feel reality pinching him. It felt so real, that nightmare. A version of his future he never wanted to face.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gently moving his hand from your chest as embarrassment seemed to finally wash over him.
“Don’t ever apologise for this, Az,” you spoke softly.
“No,” he shook his head. “I just mean I’m sorry for everything, for hurting you before, for not seeing what was right in front of me all along, for not being honest…”
Your brows furrowed as you looked at him, but you let him speak.
“I’ve been trying to find the right words to say to you for the past six months.” He laughed then, not the laugh you loved. A self-deprecating laugh that made your chest ache. “I had six months to find the right words, and I was still too late…” he trailed off, his voice heavy.
“Ever since Mor introduced you almost four centuries ago, you’ve had me mesmerised. I thank the stars every day you came into my life…”
You thanked the stars everyday for him too.
“Azriel, I feel the same…” you began, but he interrupted you.
“No, I don’t think you understand, y/n. I adore you. I’ve always adored you.” Azriel's voice wavered slightly as he spoke, his hands trembling as he reached out to take yours.
He hesitated with his words, still struggling to find the right way to say this. You felt the roughness of his scars against your soft skin, but it was welcome, you had always found his hands beautiful. His touch, comforting.
Right now though, something felt different.
The way Azriel was looking at you was unlike anything you had seen before. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you.
“You are so wonderful, so beautiful, smart, hilarious. You’re the best of all of us.”
You weren’t sure how to respond, it was a notion your family had always told you. Azriel through the years, claiming that statement more times than you could count. But this time the words felt different, they weighed heavier, they revealed so much more. And you feel your cheeks heating under his intense stare.
“You are. You’re the best of us, better than me. Too good for me.”
“Azriel…” you said softly,
“That’s why your confession came as a shock, I just never considered myself good enough for you. Never thought I’d be the kind of male worthy of you.”
You felt your throat tighten at the idea. The thought that Azriel had never considered himself good enough for you, when he was exactly everything you wanted and needed.
“I’ve been deflecting my feelings for years, ignoring them, because I didn’t think I deserved you…”
Azriel's hand tightened around yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin.
"But I don't want to waste any more time," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know you were with Orion–”
“There’s no one else,” you cut him off quickly, the realisation dawning on you. A realisation of what was happening, what your dear friend was admitting. Something you had hoped and wished for so long.
Your heart was now the rapid one and you could feel it beating through your chest.
"If there's a chance for us, I want us to take it." Azriel concluded, his confession final.
"Really, Az?" your bottom lip quivered slightly, your eyes becoming glassy as tears threatened to spill.
"Really, my love."
“I love you…” The words tumbled from your lips, soft and heartfelt.
With gentle strength, he pulled you into his embrace, your head finding its place in the curve of his neck. He inhaled deeply, savouring the familiar scent of you.
“I love you more than words can express, more than you may ever realise,” he whispered, his voice brimming with tenderness. “And I promise to make up for lost time.”
You leaned back slightly, your eyes meeting his. A soft smile was on his lips, one you gave back, as a tear rolled down your cheek. He moved gently then, leaning down to press a tender kiss where the salty tear had escaped.
Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, a force he had ignored for hundreds of years, his lips found yours in a long-awaited embrace. Time seemed to slow as you shared that kiss, your lips melting into one another. Finally, the kiss seemed to speak of.
This was it.
This would be enough, because this was everything.
fin.
a/n: Sorry to make you all wait so long for this! I was in a really bad writing slump, and wasn't sure how to make this work, still not 100% on it but hey-ho (but thank you to my love, @illyrianbitch for her continuous support every time I changed my mind and scrapped an idea lol, and to @milswrites for her lovely words that helped me get out of my slump)
Anyway I hope you all got the ending you wanted ;) but yeah let me know if you want any one-shots from these two! I'd be happy to explore their dynamic a little more if you've got a scenario in mind <3
Forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @milswrites @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound @amberlynn98 @marscardigan
#acotar#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel fanfic#acotar azriel#acotar fanfiction#angst#acotar series#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel angst#azriel fanfiction#azriel fic rec#azriel imagine#azriel acotar#azriel#azriel x y/n#azriel series
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 4
Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Angst (not that bad)
Word Count: 6680
Notes: This chapter was actually trying to fight me. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. Hope you enjoy!
Part 3 ○ Part 5
The days were blurring together the longer you stayed in this room. You've long since memorized the golden stripes and swirls beautifully decorating the navy walls, counted the teardrop-like glittering stones hanging from the small chandelier. You've gone through every closet and box in this room as well. Unsurprisingly, the room was almost empty, but you weren't looking through it to find any information anyway, you'd really done it out of boredom, and admittedly some curiosity.
You knew you couldn't complain about your treatment in this house, you'd never heard of a prisoner being treated to home cooked meals and expensive clothes. The House had even brought you books and journals in case you wanted to read or write, and Azriel brought you little treats from the bakeries in town - things you suspect he already knew you liked. He also kept you company every chance he got, even if it meant simply sitting together in silence. You didn't go a day without seeing him. But it was hard to focus on romance novels, chocolate cupcakes or even the captivating hazel eyed male when your entire reality was shattering around you.
The day after you met the High Lord and Lady, Azriel had found you snooping through the few clothes left behind by Feyre, and that same night he dropped off what he called some of your old belongings - some clothes and jewelry so you didn't have to borrow anything else from the High Lady. Everything was neatly folded and carefully arranged, it seems Azriel was extremely meticulous about how to store his late wife's belongings. He told you he's barely allowed himself to touch them in fear of ruining anything.
The clothes had since lost your scent, even if put away in a closed box it would be impossible for it to linger after a century. Still, you knew these were your things, somehow you could feel it deep inside you. You hadn't told Azriel about this, scared of getting his hopes up.
There was nothing personal in the box, Azriel was probably reluctant in letting you see them in case it overwhelmed you and triggered any more painful reactions, but there was enough for you to get a sense of who you were before.
It was clear she lived a happier and much more fulfilled life than yours. The clothes were all beautiful, if a little outdated. They came in all sorts of colors and fabrics, but even if you still liked them now, you know you'd never buy something like this for yourself.
Working at the guild, you had to prioritize functionality. You didn't have many personal belongings, you traveled a lot for missions and had to keep hidden, never staying in the same place for longer than a couple of months at a time. Your clothes reflected this, you prefered to wear pants or even your armor since you never knew when you'd be called for a mission or attacked.
You always had to be ready to drop everything at any moment so there was no use getting attached to anything or anyone. Even your favorite dagger was simply the model you've found works best for you, and you can get it anytime from different blacksmiths. The small hoops currently in your ears are the only jewelry you actually own and it's more of a way to keep the holes open for when you have to do undercover missions in which you might need to dress up.
There was no time or place for getting pretty clothes that made you feel good or buying a nice pair of earrings for the sake of it. Even less for making friends. You were living an empty life, something you always had a hard time coming to terms with, but that seems impossible to accept now that you know what you could have had, what you used to have and was taken from you.
Not being able to even trust your own memories affected you more than you'd ever admit, knowing things you considered unquestionable facts before that night were all made up. You've had to rely on what Azriel tells you and your own intuition to try and fill in the gaps. Your body seemed to be giving you clues, nudging you in the right directions but it only left you beyond frustrated that you could feel like all the answers were on the tip of your tongue but not being able to put your finger on it.
From what you've gathered, the night you disappeared from the Night Court corresponds with the mission in which you almost died, meaning someone in the guild - your handler, if your suspicions are correct - must have found you and brought you in. It's safe to say that, aside from a few lies and omissions here and there, your memories since that night can be trusted. But everything before that was all a lie, over a century of your life was nothing more than a made up story.
A burning feeling behind your eyelids has you forcefully shaking out your thoughts. You can't let yourself get consumed before you even find out what exactly happened, before you can get your revenge. And you refuse to cry in this room where anyone, especially Azriel, could walk in at any moment and see you in such a state. If you had to pick one helpful thing the guild taught you, it was how to handle your emotions.
You knew the High Lord was making good on his promise, knew that Azriel was working to help you as well. He'd only ever left your side to look into any information you could give him about the guild, though your knowledge was limited. You weren't a high ranking member and they were more than careful. You didn't know anything about the other members, as much as they didn't know anything about you.
Still, you weren't used to waiting around while everyone else did all the work and it took them over a week to schedule a new meeting with you, where you hopefully will learn more about this whole situation and what they intend to do with you. It feels like they're keeping you in the dark, something you knew you'd also do in their place, but that has left you feeling nothing but frustrated and worthless.
That meeting was happening in less than an hour and anticipation was eating away at you. Azriel promised he was going to take you to the office, letting you use him as a safety line as you've done so often these days.
Aside from the welcome information and decisions you hope would be talked through, you were also just excited to leave this room for a few hours at least. Only being able to feel the wind through an open window was getting old, and the city below this house felt like it was almost calling to you at this point, but you were too scared of seeming too interested since you didn't know if they'd find it suspicious. Just because the High Lord left the room on a friendlier note doesn't mean he'll trust you completely after what you've done.
You were technically allowed out of the room, free to walk around the House, with Azriel's supervision of course, but after your first attempt you decided it wasn't worth the trouble.
It had been mostly a miscalculation on your part. You were so consumed with your problems and with finding some sort of distraction that you almost forgot Azriel wasn't the only one you knew before, didn't stop to think what reaction they all would have to you.
Azriel asked you to join him for breakfast downstairs as he usually did, trying to get you to move around and talk with the other residents of the House. You accepted, tired of being in the stuffy room and curious to meet the General and his mate, who you've sometimes felt around the House and heard so much about from Azriel.
The atmosphere turned painfully awkward as soon as you entered the dining room with the shadowsinger at your side, making the other residents of the house look up to meet your eyes, surprised you had left the room. It wasn't long before Cassian stormed out, barely making an excuse on his way out after getting a good look at you, his mate following right behind him.
You ended up eating breakfast alone with Azriel, the same way you would have if you'd stayed in your room like you always did instead. Except now you couldn't take the general's haunted expression out of your mind. It truly had looked like he'd seen a ghost. Maybe he did.
Azriel apologized to you on his behalf, even though it wasn't his or Cassian's fault, and you're almost positive there was some sort of fight between them, though you hope not too severe. You'd hate for Azriel to get into arguments with his family over you. He didn't invite you downstairs again after that, simply joining you in your room whenever he could. The reminder of how caring the shadowsinger has been with you almost brings a smile to your lips.
“I'll make you fall for me again.”
Those words haven't left your mind since that night. You've never had anyone look at you with so much love in their eyes, and tell you something so bold with such conviction.
You're not sure you deserve it, and you're terrified you'll never remember him because you know this version of you can't ever be compared to the one in his memories. Even if you end up regaining your memories, it's impossible for things to truly go back to how they were. It's been too long and you've changed too much. The both of you know this.
You haven't actually talked about his or your feelings since that night, but it's clear that he still loves you, well he loves the female he once knew anyway, you're not so sure you're even that similar to her aside from your appearance. It doesn't feel fair to let him dote on you, knowing he's in love with a version of you that will never come back, knowing that, even with the fluttering of your heart, your feelings for him don't come close to his.
It makes you feel like you're taking advantage of him, how he's so dedicated to taking care of you and to restoring your memories, even trying to find the people who hurt you, while to you he's a stranger. Even if an extremely handsome stranger whose company you enjoy a lot, who makes you smile and even laugh despite the precarious circumstances you've found yourself in, who makes you believe you can get through this.
You can't deny you have a reaction to him either, every soft touch feels like lightning running through your veins, and every whisper of your name has goosebumps spreading all over your skin. Your body obviously still remembers how it feels to love him and to be loved by him in return, but the butterflies in your stomach don't even come close to the depth of his feelings for you. It's glaringly obvious that Azriel would do anything for you, even going as far as letting you stab him the very first night you met and brushing it off when you tried to apologize during this week.
Truthfully, falling for Azriel sounds like the easiest thing in the world, but you don't think you'd ever feel like you deserve him.
The shadows in the room start shifting ever so slightly as if reading your thoughts - something Azriel has assured you they can't do - a sign that their singer is approaching.
You put down the book you never even started and hop down from the window sill you had been sitting on for most of the afternoon, waiting for him to knock softly at the door like he always did, letting you prepare for his arrival or deny his company if you so wished. Anticipation was buzzing at your skin the longer you waited so you opened the door for him as soon as his knuckles met the dark wood, catching him off guard with his hand raised.
You can't help but smile at his wide eyes. Surprising the feared Spymaster of the Night Court has to be a hard feat to accomplish and the fact that you just did it so effortlessly makes you revel in his expression for a moment. He offers you a small smile of his own but you can immediately tell something is holding him back.
He hasn't really given you any information about their research or the guild, simply letting you know that they were working as hard as they could on it. You knew the High Lord still had his reservations about your presence in his court so it only made sense for them to keep their cards close to their chest until they knew more about the situation. You suppose he also wanted to see if any of the leads you gave Azriel on the guild actually turned out to be helpful, a last test to see if you were being truthful.
So you wouldn't be surprised that the Inner Circle had a meeting among themselves before bringing you in, one it seems like Azriel just came from, but his expression is making your anticipation steadily turn into nerves.
“Are you ready?”
Even with the lump that has lodged itself in your throat, you nod and try to give him a pleasant smile. You've been waiting for answers and you're finally going to get them, even if it feels like your heart is threatening to give out.
You quickly turn back into the room to slip on your shoes, before looping your arm around the one he offers, ever the gentlemale. He guides you through the painting covered hallways, most of which you haven't walked through before.
As you approach the room your nerves get the best of you. There are a lot more people in the office than you thought there'd be, you can hear their mismatched heartbeats from here, feel their suffocating presences. One you can distinctively recognize is the General's, it reminds you of his reaction in the dining room, how it seemed to hurt him just looking at you.
You didn't think the entire Inner Circle would be in attendance, figured that it would only be the ancient one, the High Lord and Lady aside from you and Azriel. You'll likely have to reveal more about yourself than you'd be comfortable with in any other situation, including things you're not proud of, things you know they'll judge you for, they'll judge the female they once knew for.
Azriel noticed your body tensing, your steps getting slower and the apprehension rolling off you in waves as your thoughts soured. He stopped in his tracks and looked over his shoulder, meeting your unfocused eyes.
Seeing the worried look on his face makes you take a deeper breath, willing your mind to focus on what's important right now and let your fears stay locked inside you. Thinking of it as another mission the guild sent you on, you've put your life on the line numerous times, you can get through a simple meeting.
You feel a familiar mask of indifference fall onto your face, the mask of a killer the guild made sure you wore almost every day of your life, but before you can rid your mind of emotion, Azriel grabs onto your hand, intertwining your fingers together, and bringing it up to his lips. He leaves a soft kiss on your skin, one that sends chills down your spine, though it's the look in his eyes that makes you stop.
You're not alone. For the first time in your life, at least in the life you remember, you're not alone. He's going to be next to you for every step of the way. You don't need to resort to assassin tactics. The blank mask was something you didn't have a choice but to use, to protect yourself from the things you'd seen, from the things you feel. But here you're allowed to delve into your emotions, to stay true to them.
Azriel gives you a small smile and lowers your hand away from his lips, proud of whatever determination showed on your face. He lets go of you, making you feel the absence of his warmth immediately, fingers twitching as if trying to reach out to his comfort on their own.
As soon as you walk into the room all eyes turn to you. You had been right to assume everyone was here. You let your eyes wander around the room briefly, noting the familiar and new faces, before settling back on Rhysand's, the reminder of the excruciating pain you've felt the last time you saw him an obvious weight on your mind.
You'd seen them all before except for the blonde sitting on the sofa by the window, her brown eyes were wide, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing. You know that was Morrigan, the High Lord's cousin, and from what Azriel has told you, one of your once closest friends. Apparently she'd tried to come talk to you but it so happened to be on the day after you went down for breakfast and you denied it without a second thought when Azriel brough the option up. You wonder if that had been too harsh but you weren't sure you could handle a repeat of the Cassian situation.
Feyre and Morrigan are the only ones who attempt to throw a greeting smile your way but you can't bring yourself to respond, acutely aware of the tension in the air, eyes never straying from the High Lord's. Choosing to focus on the elephant in the room.
“I trust your stay has been enjoyable,” Rhysand muses as he points to the chair across from his desk, urging you to sit as if this were a simple business meeting. As ridiculous as the idea sounds, it does something to loosen your muscles and the snort that escapes Cassian lifts some of the tension.
“Yes, the House has been making sure of it,” you sit on the chair across from his desk, not daring to look away from him and the High Lady. He releases a simple hum at the answer, but you're too anxious for small talk. “Have you found a way to get my memories back?”
“In a way,” he offers, leaving you with more questions.
Thankfully, Amren fills up the silence in his place. “The spell suppressing your memories is the work of witches. Daemati can enter anyone's mind and make them forget certain memories but if someone had simply rewritten your memories then Rhys would have been able to fix them.”
“Witches?” The thought was enough to send shivers down your spine.
“Witches use tools to strengthen their powers, to access magic they aren't privy to,” she continues, “It seems someone used a witch's tool to feign daemati powers and rewrite your memories, effectively warding them as well.”
“That's why you had such a strong reaction when I entered your mind.”
You were positive this had to be the work of a daemati. It had never crossed your mind that there could be something else at play.
“You can't undo the spell,” you conclude for them.
Witches have a completely different approach to magic than faeries. While your kind was gifted their magic by the Mother, witches have to resort to the kind of tools Amren mentioned. The resulting magic isn't organic and as such it comes with rules and drawbacks you don't experience as fae.
“We'll need to find the person responsible for it. They're the only one who can tell us exactly how to undo it,” Feyre says.
You bite your lip, your mind reeling with the information. You only have one suspect and the thought of not only finding him but also making him talk sounds beyond ridiculous. He also hasn't shown any hint that he could use witch magic. As far as you know he's as much high fae as you are, but you can never be too certain when it comes to one the best assassins in the world.
“Azriel says you can only identify one member of the guild,” the High Lord continues, barely giving you any time to process.
You nod. “I had direct contact with a few other assassins when I was called for backup but never knew their names or even what some of them look like without disguises.”
“Our only option is finding your handler, but Azriel hasn't been able to find any tracks even with the information you've given him,” Feyre stands closer to the desk now, her hand leaning on the dark wood.
“I'm not surprised. Norris is one of the most prominent members of the guild, I'm not sure how old he is exactly but I suspect he's been working there for close to a millenia.”
“Azriel is extremely good at his job,” Rhysand tilts his head slightly, as if offended for his Spymaster.
“I know.” From the briefings he's given you, he has spies all over the world aside from his shadows, who can listen and see things fae could never begin to imagine. Even with your hints, he's come closer to the guild in a week than entire countries have in decades, perhaps even centuries. “But we've been trained to kill and hide from people like him, like you. And Norris has been doing that successfully for a very long time.”
“We…” He taps his nails on the table, the sound echoing across the room. “So you're an assassin then,” the distaste clear on the High Lord's face.
You hadn't said the words out loud but everyone had probably guessed it the moment you walked back into their lives. The guild has made a name for themselves, and as much as some of your work consisted of spying or retrieving objects, most people came to the guild for mercenary jobs.
“Yes,” you confirm, forcing yourself to keep up the eye contact.
“An interesting career choice,” he muses, as if you had the pleasure of just choosing to become this monster.
The several pairs of eyes watching you intently were making you feel defensive, your temper rising up with it. It's easy to judge someone looking in from the outside. You'd been an assassin or training to become one ever since you could remember, which in reality wasn't your whole life like you thought before. Still, whether it was because you'd been taken in by the guild as a child or had your memories rewritten, you were thrown into it against your will and had since been stuck with no chance of an escape. Everyone has done things they're not proud of and you know fae in such important positions as these and as old as they are can definitely relate to this sentiment.
You weren't proud of it, far from it, but you didn't have a choice. And it's not your fault the female they knew before wouldn't do these things. It's not your fault that innocence and chance at being better she had were ripped away from you.
“Not everyone has the luxury of getting a court handed to them,” the venom drips out of your tongue, every word meant as a weapon.
You know this is a low blow, being aware of the circumstances in which Rhysand became High Lord, how he lost his whole family in one night. But if he wants cruelty, the assassin he keeps judging, you can certainly give it to them. Your bravado lessens when you feel the sharp intake of breaths around the room, most notably from the Illyrian by your side, where he still stands despite how tense his posture has become.
Rhysand's wings tighten against his body and his eyes narrow, finally letting go of the faux relaxed look he's presented you with. He takes a moment to answer you, likely leveling his temper or receiving soothing words from his mate.
“There was a time you wouldn't even dare to hurt an innocent.” This statement lacks the same bite as before, it gives way to disappointment, and it feels like a bucket of ice poured over molting lava. It cuts deeper than any amount of judgment he could have presented you with.
You straighten yourself in the chair, trying to not let it show how much this whole conversation is affecting you. “Well,” you lick your lip, now realizing how dry your mouth felt, “The only thing left from before is my body.”
His violet gaze finally becomes too much for you to bear, allowing yourself the respite of looking down at your hands. There are too many emotions swirling in his alluring eyes, even more felt around the room, the tension has become so thick you could barely breathe, couldn't even risk a look at Azriel in fear of what you'd find written on his face, terrified that the same disappointment lingered there as well.
“It's not,” the change in tone has you looking back up at him, meeting his gaze once more to find understanding reflected on it. And I can only imagine how you've been surviving through it all.
His echoing words make you pause, not being able to look away from him. It's only when wetness gathers in your eyes that you look back down, praying the room of perceptive fae don't notice how close you are to tears. You don't even remember the last time you cried, the last time someone extended you the kindness Rhysand just did, even after all the judgment.
Shadows start crawling up your legs, tentatively moving towards you as if asking permission to comfort you. You bite back a smile, keeping your tears at bay as you wonder if they moved of their own accord or if Azriel sent them to you. You relax your body, allowing them to twist and turn over your legs, mildly surprised that you can actually feel a ghost of a touch. You didn't think you could feel shadows.
You risk a glance at the shadowsinger in question, almost regretting it as you see the fondness reflected in his beautiful eyes as he watches his own shadows move across your skin. This must have been a regular occurrence before. You look away as soon as your gazes meet, not being able to bear the intensity in them in this room full of onlookers.
Unfortunately, your escape brings you back to facing the High Lord and Lady, who seem more than amused at your interaction with Azriel. The change in atmosphere from just a few moments ago almost gives you whiplash.
“You haven't told me what you plan on doing about the guild,” you try to keep your tone leveled, but looking at their reactions you're failing miserably.
“Finding your handler seems to be our best bet,” the smile on Feyre's face only falters a bit, the tension from before has almost dissipated. “Since he's the one who sent you here he might know who hired the guild and their motives for wanting the book.”
“You said he was the one who introduced you into the guild.” You nod at Rhysand. “It's possible he's the one responsible for your… accident.”
“I think so too,” you agreed, your hand moving up to touch the scar on your neck, “I've always been told this scar was the result of a failed mission, and that Norris had been the one to find me and take me to a healer.”
“We found the attackers not long after your death,” the general finally speaks up, cringing softly at the choice of word. His mate was quick to narrow her eyes at him, as if reprimanding him for mentioning it.
“He might not have actually cut my throat,” you shrug, trying not to linger in unpleasant thoughts. “He likely saw me after the attack and decided I'd make a good addition to the guild if I survived. I'm basically a ghost, that's perfect for an agent. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd done similar things before.”
“Either way, we need to find him.”
“Even if we do, I'm not sure he'll actually tell you anything.” Norris was one of the most respected members of the guild. His abilities far surpassed yours, he'd been the one to teach you most things after all. You've never been able to even sneak up on him so finding and capturing him alive already seemed hard enough, but making him cooperate and answer any of your questions was next to impossible. The Mother only knows how many fae have tried it and failed.
“He will,” Azriel stated. When you look into his eyes you can only see pure fury and determination written in them, leaving no space for any doubts. He stares into your eyes before adding, promising, “l'll make sure of it.”
Some of that confidence rubs off on you it seems, because your hesitation starts evaporating the longer you stare into his eyes. You've always been on your own, and as such you've only ever considered how you'd fare against your handler without backup. Between the famed Shadowsinger, the strongest High Lord in history, the Made Sisters, and everyone else in this room, your chances were exponentially higher. Escaping the guild doesn't feel like a pipe dream anymore.
“How do you want to find him?”
The High Lord rewards your determination with a smirk. “The only way to find someone like him is by making him search for us instead.”
“You want to use me as bait,”
“You can refuse,” Azriel assured. This explains his sour mood. You didn't think he'd agreed with this solution with the way he's been treating you so carefully, almost as if you're made of glass. You can't exactly fault him for it either, but the truth is you can't refuse. You don't know if you could ever find Norris with traditional tactics, or if the guild wouldn't send more assassins to the city, if they hadn't already.
“And keep living like this? Hiding without even knowing who I am?”
He searches your eyes, fear and vulnerability swimming in the hazel, but nods all the same. He told you he's dreamed of getting you back for a century, and thought it was something that would never come true, so it makes sense that he'd be hesitant on letting you put yourself in such a risky position. You know he understands why you need this though.
The meeting runs for a while longer, and by the time Rhysand was calling it a day the sun was already setting on the horizon, making way for the night to take over in all its glory, one that could only be fully appreciated in the Night Court.
As much as everyone seems to be warming up to you, letting go of the conflicted feelings towards having you back in these circumstances, you were extremely overwhelmed by the end. Talking to someone who knows you so intimately even though you don't have any recollection of it is a confusing experience. You could almost hear your mind screaming at you, begging for some peace and quiet.
The contrast between the Inner Circle and Azriel becomes clear in your mind. Your relationships were very different before but it's interesting to see that even when you don't have your memories, you feel so much calmer with him. That nagging feeling of being faced with something you've lost keeps rising up when they speak to you, but it doesn't come anywhere close to the myriad of emotions Azriel evokes simply by looking at you. And even if those emotions are more intense, you have a much bigger tolerance for them, as if your body would gladly accept any turmoil as long as you stayed in his company.
Just as you were about to leave the room, Rhysand invites you to join them for dinner. Everyone turns to you with expectant eyes before the words fully leave his mouth. They clearly planned it out together. This habit they have of speaking through each other's minds is one it might take a while getting used to.
You bite your lip, as you think of what to say. Cassian and Morrigan look particularly keen on the idea, it makes you feel a little relieved that the general isn't looking at you like a nightmare came true anymore, but you really don't think you can handle any more questions today, or to have them reminisce about your former relationships. You're not used to spending time with a lot of people in general, you'd go months without any sort of fae contact sometimes. You just want to go somewhere quiet, and you can only think of one person whose company would allow you to relax.
Making up your mind, you decline the invitation politely, trying to ignore the disappointment in their eyes as they bid you goodnight. This still feels like a huge improvement from where you stood with them just at the beginning of the meeting, that they'd want to keep you company when it felt like they were avoiding you this whole week. You might have gained some of their trust, and, to your immense shock, you trust them as well. It feels like a breath of fresh air after a century of not even trusting your shadow.
Maybe it's that feeling, or the immediate quiet that settles over you as soon as you walk into the empty hallway, maybe even the fact that you finally got some answers and even a plan, a chance at leaving the guild, something you never even dared to dream about, but it has you feeling a little indulgent. Your steps are noticeably lighter, and all the tension from before is now only a faint ache in your muscles.
“Azriel?” You look up at him with a smile, feeling it widen when he looks at you in answer. “Since I'm out of the room, can we go somewhere to watch the stars?”
The smile that takes over his face is blinding, it feels like it could rival the moon. It's fascinating how his beauty can still catch you off guard like this, even if you've been spending most of your time with him for an entire week.
“Of course,” he moves closer to you and takes your hand, pulling you into him, his eyes never straying from yours. It takes you longer than it should have to realize he was covering you both in shadows, too lost in his eyes to pay attention to your surroundings, how they've turned to black. He told you before that's how he winnows, though it can't be called that since he moves through shadows instead.
The light almost blinds you as his shadows disperse, giving way to a view you can't believe is real. The sky wasn't completely dark yet, stuck in the brief moments of twilight where you could still see the last rays of the sun illuminating the dark blue sky. And yet the stars were already twinkling in the sky, surrounding the full moon.
You can't help but gasp, forgetting about Azriel and moving to the edge of the roof, admiring the unforgettable view. Your eyes don't stray from it as you lean against the railing, long enough that the sun completely sets, and the streets become illuminated by faelights.
You had thought there was some sort of celebration when you first came here, but have since learned that every night is enjoyed to its fullest in the city of dreamers.
As some of your awe settles, you turn to look at Azriel as he too admires the city. His shadows had left him uncovered, choosing to scatter around what you now recognize as a training ground. You almost regret staring up at the sky for so long when you could have been reveling in his beauty this whole time.
His tan skin was glowing with the pale moonlight, eyes as bright as the stars when he looks down at you. You move closer to him almost unconsciously, as if you've been bewitched.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” you sound breathless even to your ears. “The view is a lot more beautiful from up here.” Your bedroom window could never do this justice. If you looked up, it almost felt like you were walking on air, among the stars.
He turns to you fully, ignoring the captivating sight in favor of watching you. His face relaxes further as he takes you in, the smile on his lips growing and the air around you changing. He raises his scarred palm up to cup your face, whispering softly, “It can't ever compare to you.”
“That's cheesy,” you stutter, clearly taken aback by the sudden flirtatious tone.
He grins down at you, a mischievous look in his eyes, rubbing his thumb over the increasingly warmer skin of your cheek. “You're blushing.”
Azriel has been open with his feelings for you all week, making it clear that they haven't changed over the years, even with your absence from his life, but he has never been this brazen. None of the interactions you've had can be considered anything else than platonic, and even with sweet compliments and bashful admissions, he has never looked at you like this, like he truly believed just one second of looking at you was worth more than this unbelievable view.
“You know,” you start hesitantly, “We haven't actually tried everything.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to catch up to your train of thought. You can feel when he does because he tenses against you, and would have let go of your face if you hadn't placed your hand around his wrist, keeping him there.
“I think I've read it in a story before,” you lick your lips, feeling like lava is pumping through your veins when his eyes follow the movement, “Sometimes a kiss can be stronger than any magic spell.”
He leans closer to you slowly, looking into your eyes to search for any sign of discomfort. You can't be entirely sure what he finds in them, you can't feel much else but desire in this moment, but it has him clearing the rest of the way, both of your eyes closing as his lips finally touch yours softly.
A sigh escapes him when you press into him harder, needing to find out what he tastes like, what he feels like. His other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, holding you against him. You can feel him losing his restraint bit by bit, hands moving from your face to hold your neck, your waist, grip getting tighter with every stroke of his tongue against yours, a century of longing and raw passion melting into the kiss. Your own arms find their way around his neck, pulling him down, finally feeling the softness of his hair around your fingers. His chest is pressed against yours, close enough that you can feel his heart beating.
When you finally pull away from each other, you're both breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, eyes closed. You wonder how many times he's dreamed of this moment, of being able to taste you again after so long.
“Any memories resurfacing?” His voice is rough, deeper than you've ever heard it. It almost makes you hold back a moan.
“No,” you lick your lips, reveling in his taste, “but we can give it another try.”
His lips find yours as soon as the last words leave your mouth, more than happy to deliver. You might chastise yourself for giving in to temptation tomorrow, but in this moment nothing else matters. Not the guild, not your lost memories, not your mistakes. Right now there's only him, you and the stars as your witnesses.
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#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#azriel angst#azriel fic#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel fanfiction#acotar#acotar fanfiction#acotar x reader#acotar x you#divider by saradika
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