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oliviajdjarin · 2 years

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Azriel Shadowsinger: Nervous

Pairing: Azriel x female!reader (she/her)

Summary: “‘Look my love,’ he whispered into your ear, and placed his hands on top of your own, squeezing atop them lovingly.

‘We’re the same.’”

Warnings: intense descriptions of burns and scarring, trauma, swearing, slightly bitter, depressed, and angry Azriel, Cassian is here, intense insecurities, kissing, dancing, shy!azriel, shy!reader, probably cringey dialogue, please please beware of the scarring descriptions.

A/N: I have no experience with burn scars, therefore I will never understand the pain of having them both physically and mentally, so I in no way am attempting to romanticize them. My intentions are purely to show that having scarring in any way shape or form is beautiful, and nobody is worth any less because of it. Constructive (and kind) criticism of my descriptions is appreciated.

A/N 2: thank you @cityofidek for the push to write an idea I’ve had forever. Thank you! This is also partially inspired by hoax by Taylor Swift :) (I apologize in advance @leahkenobi)

SJM Masterlist

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

(pic gotten from Pinterest)

“Look a bit more tense, brother.”

His puffed chest recoiled slightly, and his eyes darted behind him.

Cassian smiled. “Catching the Spymaster of the Night Court off guard. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Azriel released a breath of annoyance through his mouth and turned back around, facing the Mahogany staircase. His jaw ached from how tightly he had been flexing it, and how long he had been in his own head.

“Are we waiting for someone?”

We. As if Cassian understood what the Hel he was going through. As if either of his brothers understood.

Cassian stood next to him and exhaled dramatically.

Azriel turned his head to scan his brother up and down. He was dressed similarly to him—a well-fit, dark-black suit, dark enough to brighten his ruby-toned siphons. His hair was clean, his musk was prevalent, his face was shaved, and his eyebrows seemed to look…sharpened?

“Nesta’s idea,” he said, noticing the shift in Azriel’s eyes. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt. I was wrong.”

Azriel hummed in response, noting how Cassian was trying to calm his nerves with humor, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was fucking working.

“You nervous?” Cassian said, patting him on the back.

He knew the answer to that. Azriel’s fidgeting, bare hands behind his back proved it enough. He felt the familiar scar tissue along his fingertips, cringing at the thought of your face when you saw them.

Why did he wait until now to show you them?

He was a fucking idiot. An asshole. A coward.

He had trusted you with everything, everything, except for this. The part of him he loathed above all else. The piece of himself he wanted to bury.

“Hey,” Cassian said, snapping him out of his own daze once again. “You can do this. She loves you. We can see it.”

Could she love a liar?

“Y/N is kind. One of the kindest females I’ve ever met,” Cassian continued. “It’s going to work out.”

How fucking easy that would be for Azriel to say, if he wasn’t the one who was left behind.

He had watched Rhysand crumble for Feyre. He thought it would kill him, but he saved her. It worked out.

He had watched Cassian tip-toe around Nesta, accepting any scrap of herself she fed to him, and then it all went up in flames. But it worked out.

All of it worked out.

For them.

Azriel loved his brothers more than anything. He was elated for them, but the facts still remained: their beds, their hearts, and their bonds were full.

But what about his? What about him? The last one. The straggler. The one who had picked his brothers up, relating to the missing pieces inside of them, and finding comfort in their mutual sadness.

He never thought about what would happen when they didn’t need him anymore.

Until, he found you.

An ember of light in his never-ending darkness. The shade of blue that complimented his own, the only being in the world that made the chorus inside his soul begin to sing.

His unwanted jealousy and resentment for his brothers began to disappear, and his energy went only to you.

Fuck yeah Azriel was nervous. You were all he had ever longed for, everything he would never deserve, and the only person he would dance with on Starfall.

He groomed himself as best he could, making sure to add a touch of the cologne you had complimented him on.

You smell…woodsy. Like a forest, you had said late one night. I like it.

It was safe to say his heart just about dropped out of his ass when you said that, and he had worn it every day since.

He inhaled, letting the crisp night air coming through the House of Wind windows fill up his lungs, and he exhaled.

Cassian was right. You were kind. Wonderful. Beautiful. His scars were one of the many pieces of him that you would accept…hopefully.

Until then, he would stand there and wait, all night if he had to, even if it was just to catch a glimpse of you.

Your eyes alone would put every star to shame.

~*~

“Shake out those shoulders,” Mor said behind you. “You’re too tense.”

You exhaled through your nose and did as she asked, waving your arms side to side. You rolled your shoulders as well, feeling them begin to ache from how hard you were clenching them.

“Come on Y/N,” she said. “Look at you!”

You were. That was the problem.

You had never felt more beautiful in your life.

From the tips of your feet to the flyaways of your hair, you were coated in a thin layer of glitter. It was so faint that it only showed in certain lighting, and Mor applied just enough on you to make it look natural. You skin looked angelic, while your dress…

It was anything but holy.

The midnight blue complimented your skin tone beautifully, and, as if the glitter lining your skin wasn’t enough, every fold and crease in your dress was encapsulated with diamonds. Real diamonds.

You didn’t want to ask how much this cost. You really didn’t.

The fabric was perfectly comfortable, hugging your body exactly the way you wanted it to. Your makeup matched the colors cascading over your body, and your hair was done just enough to still look like you.

“If Az isn’t on his knees by the end of the night,” she said admiring you. “I sure as Hel will be.”

You rolled your eyes at her, knowing she was poking at you to get you out of your head, but it wasn’t working.

“Y/N,” she said, “he will love every inch of you. He already does.”

You swallowed grimly, still staring at yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t know the dress would be backless. You didn’t know how much of you it would show.

And you hadn’t told Azriel yet.

You closed your eyes, unable to get the picture and feeling of it out of your mind. The burning agony that stretched up the length of your back when it happened, and the painful bliss of the aftermath. You did it for the Night Court. You did it for the High Lord.

You did it for your family.

But that didn’t make the scar stretching from the bottom of your spine to the middle of your shoulder blades any smaller, and that didn’t make the memories of it any smaller either.

Why did you wait until now to show him?

Mor knew, Feyre knew, and Nesta knew. That was it. Besides that, you kept it to yourself. You had accepted it as a part of you, but you still wanted only those closest to you knowing about it.

Yet Azriel was the closest, and he still didn’t know.

You had never met another male—or person—that you weren’t afraid of in one way or another. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, you knew he wouldn’t leave you, and you knew his soul better than your own.

He had never seen you naked, but that felt fleeting. Unimportant. He had seen enough of you to know you.

This was the last piece. The final step.

“Y/N?” Mor asked, and your head cleared. “Please try and stay in the moment as best as you can. I promise tonight will be perfect.”

She looked equally as stunning—an emerald dress highlighting her golden locks, as well as diamond earrings that shimmered in the moonlight. You smiled at her, feeling lucky to call her your friend. A true friend.

“Thank you Mor,” you replied. “It’ll be perfect for you too. You deserve it.”

She smiled, surely imagining the dance she saved for tonight, and she nodded her head.

“Now let’s go,” she said, ushering you out of the room. You laughed as she did this, and a sprout of hope began to bloom in your chest, covering your lakes of doubt with its shade.

I’m excited, you told yourself. So fucking excited.

~*~

“You should try it Az, really,” Cassian continued. “You’d think it wouldn’t hurt, but my eyes watered like a babe.”

Azriel scoffed a laugh, feeling a small smile come onto his face.

Cassian took this as his in, his deep chuckle echoing up the stairs. “I’m serious! You’re laughing now, but I guarantee—”

It was then that a different noise began to echo, sprinkling down the stairs like snow. It was more rare and priceless to him than a jewel.

Your real, genuine, laughter.

He pictured how your head would be thrown back slightly, a maneuver he had only gotten out of you a few times, and how bright your eyes would turn.

He wasn’t ready. Not at all.

“Here they come,” Cassian said, straightening his shoulders. Azriel did the same, feeling a bead of sweat drip down his back. His brain went faster than he could keep up, causing his throat to close. He pictured every little detail on his body, hoping and praying he looked good enough for you.

It was when he brought his hand up to his mouth, checking the smell of his breath quickly at the risk of you seeing his hand, that Cassian broke out into a smile.

And there you were.

He knew, in that moment, that the Mother hadn’t cursed him. The Cauldron wasn’t wrong. They just needed time to craft you, making you into the closest thing that there was to them as they could. He needed to experience his grief, his regrets, his pain, to make you that much more of a gift.

You had to be a goddess. You had to be.

And he was one lucky bastard, because you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

~*~

Your second thought as you walked down the stairs, taking note of the way your heels hit the wood to avoid smashing your face in, was how lucky you were for the angle. There was no way anyone on the floor would see your back.

Your first thought, however, was how waterproof the eye-makeup Mor gave you was.

The most beautiful male you had ever seen in your life was staring at you—staring at you—with lips opened wide enough to see the tips of his teeth. You knew him well enough to know that that was the equivalent of his jaw hitting the floor.

Tears misted your eyes, dribbling onto your lower lashes, at the sight of how hard he tried. His hair was tidy, his skin was clean, and his hair was fluffed just how you liked it to be. He wore a shade of black so dark it mixed in with his shadows, bringing out the golden-tones of his eyes. The material hugged his body perfectly, so perfectly that he definitely got it fitted.

You assumed he got his midnight blue pocket square as well, the exact color of your dress.

You almost froze on the steps, but some force inside of you was pulling you to him, so you kept walking.

You made it to the bottom of the staircase, and he was still standing there for you. As stiff as a board, his wings tucked in respectfully, like a king waiting for his queen.

Was that how he saw you?

“You look gorgeous Y/N,” Cassian said, but you could barely snap away from Azriel’s eye-contact.

Your eyes darted to his. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

He stepped up to you and brought your hand to his mouth, pecking it gently. “Thank you.”

He stepped to the side, giving a similar comment to Mor, so you got a full view of Azriel again, who was shooting darts with his gaze into the back of Cassian’s head.

You smiled, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

If looks could kill.

Azriel quickly looked back to you and scanned you from head to toe, still keeping his hands behind his back. The anger in his body relaxed, and he released a breath from his mouth.

“You are—” he started, unable to finish. Beautiful wasn’t even close to enough. “You are…stunning Y/N.”

You smiled, feeling heat crawl up your neck.

“Thank you, Azriel” you responded. You never called him Az. Not once. You liked the feeling of his full name on your tongue. “You are as beautiful as ever.”

He swallowed, looking down at his feet. That word always made him turn shy on you, and you reveled in it. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

You smiled, seeing the blush on his tan skin. The awkwardness felt juvenile, but it was the most alive you felt in days. It almost made you forget about your throbbing scar.

Almost.

“Shall we?” Azriel asked, holding out his elbow. His hands rested awkwardly against his lower back, but you didn’t mind. You smiled even wider and looped your hand through it, allowing him to escort you to the rest of the Inner Circle. You stood close enough to him so that your back was impossible for him to see without straining his neck, and you got a whiff of your favorite smell in the world.

You repeated Mor’s words like a mantra. Stay in the moment. Tonight will be perfect.

It would surely be interesting.

~*~

Azriel had never been filled with so much awe and dread at the same time.

He couldn’t even fucking glance at you without his knees threatening to crumble him to the floor, but at the same time, he had never been more on edge. His hands danced from his back to his pockets to your waist. They never moved even remotely close to your eyesight, which was a feat in itself.

He knew this was your first Starfall. He knew how excited you were for this moment, and he really fucking hoped his behavior wasn’t the reason you were acting so stiff and…touchy. It was like you were keeping him attached to your side by his shoulder, refusing to let him get a glance at any more than just your front. Even when you slow-danced to the music, you didn’t seem comfortable with tucking your head underneath his chin or leaning on his shoulder. The two of you had slow-danced before, leaning into each other much more intimately, but your body language told him otherwise.

He wondered if you didn’t like the way the dress hugged your figure, or that you were so anxious to see the stars you didn’t know what to do with your body. Either way, all he wanted to do was see all of you. Feel all of you, and tell you how beautiful every inch of you looked under the moonlight.

He could call you much more poetic things than “stunning.” He could already feel Cass never letting that one go.

Nevertheless, after your dance, you slowly backed away from him, giving him a sinful view of your perfect bust.

“I’m going to grab a drink. Would you like one?”

He shook his head. “No thank you. I’d like to dance with you again, if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. “Yes I would. I will meet you after this song.”

“Great,” he said, and your eyes darted behind him for barely a second before Mor was calling his name.

“Azriel, you’ve got to have a drink on Starfall. It’s tradition!”

He nodded to her, politely, and when he turned around you were nowhere to be found.

He exhaled, frustrated, and closed his eyes.

He should’ve known he’d fuck this up too.

~*~

The fresh night air cooled your dewy skin brilliantly, allowing you to get some much needed oxygen into your lungs.

What the Hel were you thinking?

He was so close, so fucking close to seeing it, and you knew he could read your behavior like a book. He was the Spymaster for Cauldron’s sake, how couldn’t he have noticed?

You leaned on the railing of the balcony, trying to listen to Mor, trying to be in the moment, but it wasn’t working.

Why couldn’t you just love that part of you? Why did you feel the need to hide it, from him of all people? Why couldn’t you just enjoy Starfall like everyone else?

You couldn’t even dance with the male you loved without ruining it. Ruining everything.

You should have known you’d fuck it up.

Your dress felt too tight, your head was pounding too loud, and you tried desperately to stop the tears, but they always came. You felt the familiar ache in your throat from holding back your cries, and the wind from the brisk night sent chills down your spine.

You heard music, singing, and laughter down the street. You really wish you didn’t. You wished you could just join in. Be normal. Be understood.

Nothing felt more impossible.

You rubbed your fingers on your temples, applying pressure to relieve your growing migraine. You thought about how cliché this all was—you got your perfect dress, your perfect dance, and now you were crying on a balcony in the middle of the night. The last thing you needed was your—

“Y/N?”

…knight in shining armor.

You were so in your head you didn’t feel him coming—a weird sixth-sense you always seemed to have with him—and you didn’t feel him watching you. Watching your panicked breaths, still in awe of how beautiful you looked completely raw.

You didn’t feel him move closer to the glass-door, getting a closer and closer view of how your skin reflected in the moonlight until finally—finally—he saw it. The piece of you you loved more than anything and yet hated. The piece of you that proved your love and courage, yet the scar on your skin that branded you for life.

He had to remind himself to breathe.

You knew he saw it, and your stomach turned inside out. The contents of your dinner threatened to spill over.

You didn’t respond to his call; instead, you continued to face away from him, eyes locked on the buildings scattered across Velaris. The commotion inside and down the street still continued, but your senses felt dialed to zero. Your brain began to muddle, silencing everything but his movements and breaths.

The panic began to creep up your throat, paralyzing you, and more tears escaped you as he stepped closer and closer. His shoes scuffed along the hard floor, causing your knuckles to tighten around the railings.

“I—” you began, wanting to explain everything, but you felt the heat of his body suddenly hit the back of your own. That fucking cologne reached your nose yet again, and the feeling unique to Azriel’s presence wormed its way up your body.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes widened, causing your sticky tears to stretch across your face, and a drop of heat rippled waves over your core.

How many times had you dreamed of those words in his voice?

“Yes,” you responded. Breathless.

A hand wrapped around your waist, pressing your back against his taut torso. You looked down, seeing how pretty his hand looked against you, and you swore to the gods your heart stopped.

Was that—

“Look my love,” he whispered into your ear, and placed his hands on top of your own, squeezing atop them lovingly.

“We’re the same.”

His hands were…scarred. Badly. It stretched up to his wrists, and your body shuddered at their vision. His squeezed the top of your hands a bit harder, grounding you to the railing.

“What—” you began. “What happened?”

He tucked his nose into your hair, breathing you in.

“My step-brothers,” he whispered. “They used fire. Thought it would be funny.”

You sniffled, licking your lips. More and more tears began to fall. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled into your neck, and kissed it firmly. His body against your own felt magnetic, and all you wanted to do was melt into it completely. Becoming one.

“What about yours?” he asked. “If you’re comfortable.”

You nodded and licked your lips once more. “It was when Devlon got me.”

You felt him stiffen and his breathing halt. His hands dug slightly into yours, not enough to hurt, but enough to feel his anger rise.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You squeezed down on the railing. “I didn’t know how.”

He took a deep breath in, looking at his large hands covering yours, and released it. Letting his anger go.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

You swallowed. “Was there a reason you didn’t tell me?”

He started rocking you side to side, not responding for some time. You bathed in the feeling of him around you, feeling nothing else.

“I didn’t know how either.”

You smiled grimly, not knowing what to say. “I guess we are the same.”

He kissed your neck again. “In every way.”

And there it was—understanding. The one thing you craved your whole life. You had it.

You didn’t know what else to do but lean further into him and bask in it.

You looked up at the stars and spirits beginning to make their way across the sky, expecting to be blinded by their beauty. You had pictured this day since you were a child—their silver tails, the glittering stars, their never-ending brightness.

But nothing felt better than this embrace. Nothing.

You picked your right hand up from the railing and brought Azriel’s hand to your mouth, kissing down to his wrist. He began breathing huskily in your ear. Only for you.

Chills ran down your spine at the thought of what you were about to admit.

“They’re beautiful Azriel,” you whispered into his hand. “Every part of you is.”

The breath in his throat caught, causing him to choke up, and you felt one of his tears drip down your neck. His pulse was so intense you could hear it.

He was struggling to find words—the right words—and you smiled.

You had caught the Spymaster of the Night Court off guard. You never thought you’d see the day.

Eventually he exhaled and fully hugged you from behind, and you felt his hand squeeze your own three times.

“You are so much more than stunning,” he mumbled. “So much more than beautiful. So much more than the stars in the sky.”

He pulled away, and whispered “stay” in your ear as he did. His hands slid from your own, and you felt suddenly bare. He had a full view of the expanse of your back now, and you didn’t know what he would think being so close to it.

He paused, scanning you, and you felt an urge to turn around and shake him, screaming say something.

He didn’t. Instead, the back of his scarred hand traced down your own scar, and you couldn’t help the almost erotic breath that left you.

The gravity of what he was doing hit you like a wave, and you couldn’t help the small cry released from your mouth.

His scar met your own all the way down to the bottom of your spine before he bent down and traced it with kisses, all the way back up to the middle of your shoulder blades.

“I love you Y/N,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

The Starfall in front of you could have been a portal to another dimension for all you cared. Nothing would have stopped you from turning to face him, smiling wider than you had all night.

“I love you Az—” you began, but were interrupted by his hands framing your face and his lips pressed against yours.

You had kissed before, mostly pecks with some longer ones in-between, but this was different. This was acceptance of every inch of each other, down to the most minute detail.

His hair weaved in between your fingers as your lips molded to his. He tasted of cider and lemon—surely from the dessert table—and his hands tilted your head up just so. He mapped your mouth out with his own, and the songs within your souls found their match.

You wished you could bottle this moment in time and show it to your past self.

Look, you would tell her. We made it.

We made it.

You whimpered when he pulled away, already pulling him back in by his suit coat, but he just grinned. He memorized your blown-out eyes and swollen lips, feeling his insides melt at the sight, and you smiled up at him, the stars falling behind you making you ethereal.

Nothing else mattered but the sight of you, and he knew, in that moment, that everything would work out for him.

Everything.

Tag list: (if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists, please let me know! I apologize if your name is not added or not working)

@leahkenobi @azsazz @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen123 @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @sayhitomommy @wickedazriel @xxpeachyxo @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @evlynclia @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @red-highlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhore @mystic-scripture @wolfyland07 @are-y0u-sirius @hilism @tooobsessedstuff @simplysensually @hernameispia @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5

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azsazz · 2 years

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How about some deleted scenes from What Lies Ahead?! 🤔🤔🤔

#azs azz

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sketchyjaybird · 1 year

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So I decided to do a manga panel coloring. Just as a practice for digital coloring. And it was so much fun! So please enjoy Azz going wild ❤️

#welcome to demon school #welcome to demon school iruma kun #m!ik #m!ik asmodeus #m!ik az #m!ik azz #manga panel #manga color #manga coloring

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roccale · 1 year

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look at thiz fuckin guy

#my art #new oc 🫶#he getz 2 namez coz hez cool like that 😎👍#my oc: cavity/arsenic #thatz hiz tag wahoo #bazed off thiz zick azz dog muzzle i zaw that haz teeth on it #alzo bazed off nebulizer mouthpiece thingiez but zpecifically thoze onez that look like animalz #love it when inzp 4 an oc comez from the randomezt zhit #literally need more non-op tranz guy ocz <- i zay thiz az if i dont have multiple already

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comfortfoodcontent · 2 years

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H.W.A. - Hoez With Attitude - Az Much Ass Azz U Want EP magazine ad

#h.w.a.#hoez with attitude #az much ass azz u want #90's #90's magazines #magazine ads #1990s

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vivid-badsquad · 9 months

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ummm fuck you. memory kanade go.

#UM ME BTW. LIKE LICHRALLY ME! /ZRZ #injury azz.#do t tag az me or kin or wtv if u reblog thanxxxxxx

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nightlist · 10 months

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literally why did they do thiz level like thiz. what the fuck

#ive been trying to do it for over an hour #and im playing on fucking eazy mode #gbt dev voice:#hey guyz you know what would be a great idea? putting our incredibly weak pc with zlow attackz in a big azz building full of #1) zecurity cameraz 2) armed guardz 3) bombz #with NO ARMOR and NO WEAPONZ #even unlocking the box w one gun iz barely helping #bcuz they give one box of ammo #and itz not even all the ammo the gun can actually uze #and reloading iz alzo zlow az hell #pluz the accuracy iz fucked. not for the mobz. juzt for you #and even if i could one zhot em. there are zo many that it ztill Wouldnt Get Me Through Thiz #AGHHHHHHJHHHH #i might have to give up on thiz game

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aaflovedatbounz · 9 days

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Daddy...

Azz Soon Az U Git Home From Work !

Got SUMthin G🍑🍑D 4 U !!!

@imelda-ohh

#imelda ohh #geuxin & cummin home

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acourtofinkandpapyrus · 7 months

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My Little Shadow: Part ten (Azriel x Reader)

Warnings: OH THE ANGST- Body image issues, mentions of smut, and trauma.

Part nine Part eleven

Tag list: @mis-lil-red @bubybubsters @luvmoo @rorel1a

Y/N tells Feyre and Mor about her feelings for Azriel, and they convince her to confess, because he feels the same way... right?

“Well, You should tell him.” Morrigan said, grinning at me in Rita’s.

I hadn’t really wanted to come here, as it was a ‘girl’s night out’, they insisted I came with.

“What are you two up to?” Feyre asked as she found a seat in our booth, and cheeks heated a bit more.

“Y/N’s crush on Azzy.” Morrigan said, and I wondered if I was going to melt right then and there.

Feyre’s eyes went wide, sparling with glee as she grinned. “Are you going to tell him?”

This was the absolute worst.

“No!” I said, shooting the both of them a glare. “He probably doesn’t feel the same way anyway.”

Morrigan and Feyre looked at each other conspiratorially, and I suddenly had a bad feeling.

“What are you two planning?”

“Oh, nothing…” Feyre said with a smirk.

Morrigan scooted closer to me and spoke softly, “You know, I’m pretty sure Az feels the same way.”

I rolled my eyes. “Of course you only say that after I said I wasn’t going to tell him.”

Mor grinned, and I knew then I wasn’t getting out of this for a while.

“What you need is to feel more confident in yourself.” She declared, getting out of the booth and looking at me with chaotic delight in her eyes. “We are taking you shopping.”

“No-” I started to protest but mor grabbed my arm and pulled me out of the booth.

Feyre chuckled, taking another small sip of her drink before following us out the door.

I was half dead on my feet from exhaustion as we made it to the dress shop. I had been so busy with training in the mornings, I never got to explore the city at night. It was somehow even more beautiful, glowing in the night.

We had already gone and gotten our hair and nails done, despite my protests, and now Mor claimed I needed the perfect dress.

I sat by the window with Feyre as we watched Morrigan look through the beautiful fabrics.

“Thank you.” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Feyre swung her head around, a small smile on her face. “Oh, don’t worry. We have plenty to spend on things like this. And anyway, you’re part of our little family now.”

I blushed at this, but quickly added, “Not just this. Everything.”

It was obvious she didn’t quite understand as she looked at me, and I clarified, “I mean for letting me stay here, for giving me a home.”

Her eyes softened in understanding and she wrapped a comforting arm around me. “You will always have a home here Y/N.”

I smile softly, about to say something else when a dress catches my eye.

I’m quick to stand, and even quicker to make my way over to it, feeling the shadowy fabric on the mannequin.

The cloth of the dress clings tight in the chest and torso, the fabric almost swirling as it falls into a skirt of dark blues, purples, and black. It also comes with a little caplet, adding to the elegance of the design.

I bite my lip nervously. The only problem is that it’s otherwise sleeveless, and would reveal my torn up arms.

“Ooh, that’s a nice dress! You should try it on!” Morrigan encouraged, rushing up to take it off the mannequin.

“No, I can’t.” I say, backing away a little bit.

I didn’t want them to see. I didn’t want anyone to see. My scars didn’t look like art, like Azz’s swirls that add so much character, they aren’t some badge from a fight I had won.

They were just… Scars. Deep, ugly, scars.

“Come on, pleaseee?” Morrigan begged, and I swallowed hard.

“Okay…” I said, not feeling comfortable even as she squealed in excitement.

I felt a warm hand grip mine, and I turned to see Feyre next to me, mouthing, “Are you alright?”

I nodded, forcing a little smile to my face.

Soon, I was in the dressing room, changing into the dress. I looked into the mirror, and almost gasped as I saw the way the dress hung on me. It almost looked better on me than it did on the mannequin.

It accentuated my curves and the top of my hips before flowing freely, there was a bit of cleavage, but not extreme.

But the part that made me nervous was the scars littered down my arms. I knew as soon as I went out they would see them, and I didn’t want to talk about what had happened to me under the mountain right now.

I take a deep breath though, knowing that I couldn’t avoid this forever.

If they ask, I don’t have to tell them. I really don’t.

So I opened up the door, stepping out so they could see me.

They both just stare for a moment, and I wait for them to be horrified, to usher me back in to change back-

“YOU LOOK STUNNING!” Morrigan shouted, loud enough to wake the whole goddamn city.

She rushed over, forcing me to spin around so she could get a better look. Feyre was smiling now, although it seemed a bit sad.

I was still reeling from their reactions when they dragged me out of the store, still wearing the dress because I think they knew if I got out of it, they may never get me to wear it again.

“Now you go talk to Azriel, tell him how you feel.” She said, grinning as Feyre winnowed us back to the river house.

They quickly rushed off, leaving me on my own to find Azriel.

I could have sent my shadows out, but I decided it was better if I looked myself. I can’t always hide behind them.

As I’m searching, I go through many rooms, but one thing they all had in common was that they had some sort of art from Feyre hanging in them.

I head into the library, and I’m surprised to find a red-haired female. She’s a bit short, and I wonder if she’s completely fae, but that never really mattered to me.

“Hello.” I say, and she drops her book in surprise. She looks tired, like she’s been through a lot.

This is easier than talking to Azriel, soI smile, walking over to her. “I’m Y/N. What's your name?”

She’s quiet for a moment before she says, “Bryce.”

Her accent is a little strange, but I didn’t mind. I looked at her discarded book. “Whatcha reading?”

She struggles as she speaks, “I- I’m still learning- to talk this language.”

My eyes go wide and I nod. “That’s alright. Hey, have you seen Azriel around?”

For a second I wonder if she understands me, but then she says, “Kitchen.”

I grin at her, giving her a thumbs up. “Thank you! And hey, if you ever need any help, come find me. I used to help the kids back home learn to read, so I might be able to help with some pronunciation.”

She looked a little confused, but nodded gratefully. As I headed to the kitchen, I hoped whatever she was going through ended soon. She seemed nice.

Nearing the kitchen, I could hear snippets of conversation. I paused, rethinking the whole thing.

I took a steading breath. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the night I had shared with Mor and Feyre, but I decided fuck it and turned the corner to the kitchen.

My shadows wrapped around me as soon as I went around the corner, sensing what was happening before I even did.

His hand was half up Elain’s skirt, and her head was tipped back as he planted kisses on her collarbone.

I stand there, reeling a bit.

I thought- Mor had said-

Elain’s eyes meet mine, and I suddenly realize that I’m watching a very private moment.

Azriel notices her stare, and turns to look, but I’m already sprinting for the door.

I hear Azriel call out my name, but I don’t stop, I don’t even register it fully.

Take me somewhere else, anywhere else, just away from here. I’m thinking to myself, but my shadows understand, and for the first time, they winnow me away.

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fellshish · 7 months

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#ineffable husbands #aziraphale #i’m just afraid my brain is broken

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oliviajdjarin · 2 years

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Azriel Shadowsinger: Test Me

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: after centuries of disappointment, you have developed impenetrable defense mechanisms, until Azriel sees right through the cracks.

Warnings: reader is self-conscious, self-loathing, and “unworthy” of love. Her family is also dead. Crying, kissing, and Azriel gets in her face. Other than that, all comfort.

A/N: I think I have become an Azriel stan account at this point. Sorry about that. I hope you all enjoy :)

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, reblog, or ask, it would be much appreciated <3

SJM Masterlist

The pads of your fingertips rubbed your sleep-crusted eyes for what seemed like the thousandth time that night.

Realizing that you didn’t even know if it was night anymore, you blinked twice more and curved your spine just enough to peer out the grand window behind you. You hissed when the rising sun hit your eyes, and went back to rubbing them.

Ten hours.

You had been in this godsdamned library for ten hours.

The lengths you would go to pull another out of their mess never ceased to surprise you. Especially when it was Rhysand.

The High Lord had been a friend of yours for an unreasonable amount of years. You were financially comfortable, given your family’s copious inheritance after their passing, so you continuously offered to help Rhys out of the “goodness of your heart.”

He assumed it was pity, but he never passed on the offer.

Given how often you elected to help him, you had gotten to know his Inner Circle intimately, especially when the High Lady came along. The seven of you would share a meal as often as you could, and the laughs and stories that came out of them always kept you wanting more.

You enjoyed their company more than everything, but at the end of every night, you would return home to an empty bed. An empty house. An empty heart.

You could see how Feyre looked at Rhysand, and vice versa, and you couldn’t help but let your heart sink down into your stomach. You were beyond happy for them, but it made the left side of your bedsheets that much colder.

You could blame it on the death of your family. Or the questionable males who had fallen into your life. You could even blame it on your hectic schedule.

But you knew, deep down, it was you who pushed even the chance of a relationship away. You didn’t know if it was trust issues, or a fantasy of being completely unlovable, but you pushed them away. Every chance you got.

You rubbed your eyes some more, not wanting to fall down that stale and depressing train of thought, and reached for your third cup of warm coffee.

After picking it up, however, you realized that the cup was not only cold, but it was empty.

You exhaled through your nose, not wanting to move from your spot, when the wooden doors of the entrance suddenly creaked open ever so slightly. You waited for the footsteps to echo into the high ceilings, but you were only met with silence.

And that’s when you knew exactly who it was. You knew the unique sound of his silence, whether you liked it or not.

The blue of his leathers met your eyes first, making your eyes squint, and your lips lift into a curve.

The Shadowsinger had always managed to add a bit more life into you.

His hazel eyes met yours, and you closed your own and began massaging your temples when you saw what he was holding.

“Made this one a bit stronger,” he said, morning voice ever so present. “Figured it’d help your headaches.”

You had mentioned one time, one time, that nothing could cure a headache better than a warm cup of freshly brewed coffee, extra sugar. You didn’t know why you were so shocked he remembered, since paying attention is quite literally his job description, but he still remembered that small little detail like it wasn’t even hard.

You shook your head slightly and squeezed your eyes harder, and felt him slide into the chair next to you, as well as moving it a comfortable distance away from you. The weight of his sculpted body caused the wood to creak, and the smallest laugh left your nose.

He set the delicate mug onto the dark wood, clinking it into the other three.

The other three, also brought in by him.

He brought in the first as you were setting up your papers, saying that you’d need it for the long night ahead of you. He brought in the second around midnight, saying he was headed to bed for training early tomorrow. He brought in the third, saying it was hard for him to sleep knowing you were in here by yourself.

You elected to ignore that last part.

You opened his eyes and looked into his face, seeing shades of purple on his eyes similar to your own, and took the coffee with a click of your tongue.

You smelled it before taking a sip, and the tension in your body slowly rolled off of you.

“He fucks you over every time you do this, you know,” Azriel said, leaning back in his chair.

“I know.”

“Maybe you do pity him.”

You snorted. “I pity all three of you.” And he chuckled in response.

It was true, in a way. You knew how much they sacrificed for the safety of Velaris. Hel, you saw how much they sacrificed. Their bodies had been forged by it, and yet they still found a way to have a heart.

For as long as you’d known Rhysand, the stresses of his job had been one of the main things he talked to you about. He had always praised you on being a good listener, helping him with whatever advice you could come up with, and he never failed to thank you for it. He knew you didn’t want riches or power, so he thanked you in friendship. Family.

And that’s how you met Azriel.

From the moment your eyes met, you couldn’t shake away how similar he felt. How familiar.

Quiet, spoke when spoken to, and deathly observant.

A listener at heart, and willing to rip his own heart out of it meant that the ones belonging to the people he loved would beat.

You liked him. A lot. Not that you would ever admit that.

It took some time, but you slowly began to succumb to the draw you felt towards him. You would say something witty at a dinner, he would smile, and vice versa. You would elect to sit next to each other, rather than on opposite ends. You would give each other looks, knowing you were thinking about the same thing.

After a few nights of sharing stories about your childhood, he opened up more and more about his own stresses, and you saw a side of the Night Court’s Spymaster you never thought you would.

He was just as scared as everyone else.

You listened to him, as best you could, and when he looked to you to share your own, you elected to only ask him more questions.

You wanted to be a vault for him, not a book. You had never been that way.

The two of you have had many repeats of that night, and you considered him your friend. A close friend.

But that was it.

That was it.

After a beat of comfortable silence, you took another sip of your coffee.

“Thank you. For this,” you mumbled.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

“I told you you didn’t have to.”

“And I told you that I wanted to.”

You shook your head again, and took another, long sip.

He watched you while you drank, rubbing his pointer finger and thumb together. He did that when he was thinking. Observing.

“You always do that, you know.”

“Do what?” you replied. Of course you knew what he meant.

“Whenever I do something nice for you. You can never just…accept it.”

You scoffed playfully, trying to avoid this conversation in any way possible, but he just kept looking at you. Like you were some sort of puzzle he was on the verge of piecing together.

A few moments passed, and you cleared your throat and set your still steaming coffee down.

“Well, thank you again for—“

“You did that at Solstice too. When we gave you our gifts—”

“Azriel, I need to get this done—”

“—and when Rhys planned your birthday dinner. You told him you didn’t want one. Insisted on it.”

You had never heard him talk this…passionately. His voice was usually soft, like a whisper.

As much as you wanted him to stop, you didn’t know if you’d hear his voice like this again.

He brought his left hand to his mouth, curling it around his jaw in thought, and you scoffed again.

“I think I’m doing it,” he whispered. “I’m figuring you out.”

“There’s nothing to ‘figure out,’ Azriel.”

He smiled when you said his name. He looked almost cat-like.

Shit.

He had you in his net. He knew that. And you knew that.

“I watch you you know,” he mumbled. “I like watching you.”

Had he moved in closer?

“Those nights talking on the balcony,” he said, tilting his head to the side, “I have never talked about myself more in my life.”

You hoped he hadn’t noticed. Nobody else ever did.

“How did you do that?” he asked. “Pushed me away without even trying?”

Your breaths turned shallow, and your glassy, tired eyes were giving their last pumps of energy to stay connected to his.

He wouldn’t see through you. He couldn’t.

“You do that at our dinners,” he continued, “all the time.”

You did. You always did.

“How long have you known Rhys? A couple centuries?” He tilted his head more to the side.

“How much about you does he actually know?”

You continued to meet his gaze, gnawing on the inside of your cheek so intensely it began to taste metallic.

He slowly stood, showing off the full magnitude of his tight leathers and chiseled physique. It never seized to amaze you.

These males were machines.

He took steps forward as he continued speaking, and your breath quickened as he went on.

“Is that what you do?” he asked softly. “Push people away when they finally start getting close to you? Give them excuses to leave? To get out while they can? It hurts less that was, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t know if it was the copious amounts of caffeine in your system or the exhaustion, but a film began to coat the outer layer of your eyes.

“You test them, don’t you? To see if they’ll stay.”

Of course you did.

Centuries of being disappointed, let down, and left behind. Whether it was friendship or something more, they never stayed. Ever. You had yet to be proven wrong about a person’s intentions of longevity.

Your guards were insurmountable. Unmovable.

But, for the first time in years, they were beginning to waver.

“No one has passed them before, have they?”

You sniffled, tears clouding your vision.

You were done

“You are being cruel.”

Your statement obviously stunned him, enough for him to freeze his motions for a second or two, before he continued.

“I’m being honest,” he said in a much softer tone. “I see you Y/N.”

He finally made it in front of you, and turned your chair around to face him completely. He placed his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning forward.

“I see you.”

He placed his right hand on your chin delicately, having you look up into his hazel, golden-ringed eyes. Your throat was on fire, and a single tear dribbled down your cheek.

“Y/N,” he whispered, close enough that his breath cascaded down your hot cheeks. He wiped away the tear with his thumb.

“Test me. Test me all you want. Because I’ll pass every single one.”

You felt your walls fall down, and down, and down.

“You won’t win,” he continued. “Those little voices inside your head won’t win, because I’m not leaving.”

You released a quiet sob. Not of pain, but of the utmost relief.

He rubbed his fingers against your jawline, doing his best to comfort you.

You needed to hear this.

You cried softly into his hand, and he brought the other one up to frame your face.

“Y/N,” he mumbled, and kissed your forehead. It was so light you barely felt it.

“I’m not afraid of you.”

Those words brought down the final wall, and centuries of tension were finally set free.

He felt you begin to crumble, so he brought you into his chest, letting you grab onto his leathers as you cried. He held you delicately, but firm enough to keep you upright. Your tears dripped down his waterproof leathers, coating the blue designs.

He rubbed your back, and pressed his nose against your neck whispering over and over.

“I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid. I’m not afraid.”

“No one’s ever stayed. No one who I’ve let in has—has ever stayed,” you cried. You could barely catch your breath.

“I know Y/N. Trust me baby, I know.”

He kept you against him for some time, long enough for the exhaustion of the last twenty four hours to settle in, and you finally pushed away from his warmth to look into his eyes.

Tears of his own streaked down his cheeks, but the rising sun was high enough to make his tan skin that much more inviting.

You didn’t know how such a beautiful male had fallen into your lap.

You sniffled once more and wet your lips with your tongue before whispering, “I see you too, and I know you have tests of your own. I will beat them.”

He smiled at you, genuinely, before replying, “You already have.”

A few more tears escaped you. Tears of pure joy. You had forgotten what that felt like.

He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but you didn’t want to hear any more. You wanted to feel him. That’s all you wanted.

So you pressed a chaste kiss against his lips, so quick he didn’t even have time to close his eyes, but a faint blush crept up his neck.

You exhaled a laugh, and he smiled wider than you had ever seen.

“Come here,” he laughed, and pulled you in for a deeper kiss.

You had kissed plenty of males, enough for you to know what you were doing, but you had never kissed anyone who made your heart beat so fast.

He kept his hands on your face, tilting your head back to kiss you deeper and deeper, and your hands fell flat on his chest. You were still seated with him standing above you, but he was crouched low enough for his tongue to brush against your own.

It felt good, to finally give in. You felt liquified, as if you could slip through his fingers.

After a few moments, he brought his hands down your body, and rested them underneath your thighs. He gave them a firm squeeze, and groaned into your mouth.

At that moment, something wiggled inside your chest, like a loose end threatening to snap. It was the most foreign feeling you had ever felt, but it also felt right.

Azriel began breathing harder, and pressing you back into the chair. You didn’t know if he felt what you were feeling, but his heart-rate against your palm said otherwise.

After a few more glorious seconds, Azriel pressed the firmest kiss against your mouth before pulling away, and rubbing his nose against your own.

“You’re exhausted. I know you are.” He was breathless. Utterly breathless. His pants framed your face, and his chest moved up and down against your hands.

“You’re exhausted,” you countered. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

He smirked, and you ran a hand through his thick brown hair, shaking your head. There was a remnant of sweat, either from his morning training, or your kisses had gotten him that worked up.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, and he closed his eyes. Savoring it.

“Thank you Azriel.”

He smiled toothlessly. “You’re welcome.”

And that was it. You accepted it.

You could see the pride on his face already.

His eyes ran over your sunken cheeks and under eyes, and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Az—”

He lifted you, and held you in his arms bridal style.

“You’re done,” he replied. “Rhys can take it up with me.”

You smiled at him, and tucked your head further into his chest.

Your eyes were beginning to close, so much so that you didn’t even notice he passed your room, and began turning towards his own.

“Sleep Y/N,” he whispered, laying you down in the sheets. The smell of him surrounding you was the final piece to send you into bliss.

“I’ve got you.”

You slept harder than you had in centuries.

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