profound-imagination

[profound-imagination]

In The Shadow Of You - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N: Girlypops I fear I’ve cooked with this one, apparently I can write now?? Longest fic to date!

T/W: Angst with a happy ending.

W/C: 11.7k

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“What…what are you doing here?” Eight-year-old Azriel stuttered at his two older brothers. His voice trembled, caught between fear and confusion. Their smiles were cruel, sharp like knives meant to cut.

The younger of the two moved faster than Azriel could react, and in a flash, he found himself pinned to the dirty ground of his cell, his small hands forced outstretched.

The eldest loomed over him, grinning with twisted satisfaction. “We’re conducting an experiment, little brother,” he said, his tone mockingly sweet. “And you’re going to help us.”

Azriel barely had time to process his words before it happened. Fire. Blinding, searing pain erupted across his palms, crawling up his arms like molten rivers. He screamed, hoarse and broken, the sound reverberating off the stone walls of his cage. He screamed until his voice gave out, until the smoke settled, and the flames were doused.

“It’s too late for your hands,” the healers told him afterward, almost casually, as if they hadn’t just destroyed something vital and irreparable. The gauze wrapped around his hands felt suffocating, an unbearable weight, and the agony robbed him of any reprieve. They left him there—crying, trembling, and utterly alone.

The pain kept him awake, tossing and turning on the filthy floor. Every shift in position was a new jolt of agony, every heartbeat a reminder of what he’d lost. He was trying not to sob when a voice broke through the dark.

“If you keep focusing on the pain, it’ll never go away.”

Azriel froze, stiffening like a cornered animal. The voice was soft, melodic even, but it didn’t belong. He shoved himself back against the cold wall of his cell, making himself as small as possible.

“Relax,” the voice said gently. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

It was then that he saw her��a girl, no older than him, standing just beyond the dim glow of the torchlight. Shadows clung to her like a second skin, weaving in and out of her form as if they were alive. They shaped her dress, her hair, her very presence.

“How did you get in here?” he asked, his voice a broken rasp. Why that had been his first question, he didn’t know.

She grinned, a mischievous tilt of her lips that didn’t match the bleakness of his surroundings. “I can get into anywhere I want,” she said simply, crossing her arms over her chest. The shadows rippled with the movement, and Azriel couldn’t look away.

“Do you like them?” she asked, beaming as she spun in place. Her shadows flared around her like an elaborate display.

He nodded dumbly. “Are they…shadows?”

“Yes, they are!” she said brightly. Then, her expression softened as she looked him over. “How’d you end up in here?”

Azriel recoiled at the question, his fragile defenses snapping into place. “None of your business,” he bit out. “Look, I don’t know who you are or how you got in here, but you need to leave before you get in trouble.”

She laughed—a clear, chiming sound that felt wrong in the darkness. “I guess you don’t want the gift I brought you, then.”

He blinked, taken aback. No one had ever given him a gift before.

“…What is it?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her grin widened. The cell darkened further, the air growing heavy with the press of shadow. A wind swept through the hall, howling like a warning. When the darkness cleared, Azriel could see her more clearly, her form sharper as some of her shadows seemed to have dispersed.

“Learn to use them well,” she said, her voice low and solemn now. “Become a Shadowsinger. I’ve given you the tools—you need to do the rest.”

Azriel’s heart pounded as the shadows around him seemed to come alive, whispering to him in a language he couldn’t yet understand.

“Wait!” he called out, scrambling to his knees. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated, her grin softening into something more sincere. “Y/N,” she said at last.

He nodded, clutching the name like a lifeline. “Mine’s Azriel.”

“I know,” she said softly. And then, as quickly as she’d appeared, the shadows consumed her, and she was gone.

When Azriel was eleven, he was dumped unceremoniously at Windhaven, an Illyrian war camp. He was already far behind the other boys, who could fly and wield weapons with ease. Meanwhile, Azriel could barely lift a blade.

His humiliation was swift and brutal. A boy much larger than him—Cassian, he later learned—knocked him to the ground with a single punch. Another boy, Rhysand, watched from a distance, laughing. Azriel hated them both instantly.

He lay sprawled in the snow, blood dripping from his lip, when he heard her voice again.

“Well, I think that went well,” Y/N said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Shut up,” he hissed, lifting his head to glare at her.

She circled him slowly, her shadows twisting around her. “You know,” she drawled, “if you worked harder with your shadows, they’d have warned you those jerks were coming.”

Azriel scowled, brushing the snow off his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see how you’re getting on.” She crouched in front of him, tilting her head as she studied him. “Apparently not well.”

He sat up, glaring at her. “I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

“Figure it out,” she said with a shrug. “You’re a Shadowsinger.”

“What does that even mean? What even is a Shadowsinger?” he demanded, his frustration boiling over.

Her gaze softened slightly. “You are,” she said simply. “You’ll figure it out.”

Branches snapped behind him, and Y/N’s expression shifted. “You need to befriend them,” she said, nodding toward the approaching boys. “And I need to go.”

Before he could stop her, she was gone.

Azriel’s bond with Y/N grew in fragments, scattered moments where she appeared unannounced, always leaving just as abruptly. She was a ghost in his life, a shadow that flitted in and out, giving him cryptic advice and disappearing before he could ask the questions that burned in his chest.

By the time Azriel turned fifteen, her absence felt heavier. She hadn’t visited in over a year, and he began to wonder if she’d ever been real at all. Perhaps she’d been a figment of his imagination, conjured by a desperate, broken child who needed someone—anyone—to pull him from the darkness.

But the shadows she’d gifted him were real. They whispered to him, wrapped around him protectively when he faltered. They showed him things he couldn’t see on his own. And yet, every time he reached for them fully, they pulled back, as if waiting for him to prove himself worthy.

Azriel sat alone on the outskirts of Windhaven, his wings aching from a day of relentless training. Cassian had beaten him—again—and Rhysand had laughed, though there was no malice in it anymore. They weren’t enemies anymore, not really, but Azriel couldn’t bring himself to call them friends, either.

He stared at his hands, the scars crisscrossing his palms a constant reminder of what he’d lost. The moonlight caught on the edges of his bandaged knuckles, and for the first time in a long while, he let himself cry.

“That’s a new look for you.”

The voice cut through the night like a blade, and Azriel’s head snapped up.

There she was, leaning against a nearby tree, her arms crossed and her head tilted in mock amusement. The shadows danced around her, as lively as ever, and he swore they seemed happy to see him.

He scrubbed at his face quickly, heat rising to his cheeks. “You’re back,” he said, his voice rough.

“I never left,” she said, shrugging as if it were obvious. “You just stopped looking for me.”

He bristled, the sting of her words sharper than he expected. “I didn’t stop looking,” he muttered, standing to face her fully.

“Didn’t you?” she teased, though her eyes softened. “You’ve been busy. Learning to fly, getting your ass handed to you in sparring. Very entertaining, by the way.”

Azriel clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “Why do you do that?” he snapped.

Her brows lifted, her grin faltering. “Do what?”

“Disappear. Act like none of this matters to you. Like I don’t matter.”

The words were out before he could stop them, and the silence that followed was suffocating.

Y/N blinked, her expression unreadable. “Azriel,” she said carefully, stepping closer, “I—”

“No,” he cut her off, his shadows flaring around him, mirroring his frustration. “I’ve waited for you. For years. And you show up whenever it suits you, like I’m just some…some project to you!”

Her gaze flickered, and for a moment, he thought he saw guilt in her eyes. But it was gone just as quickly.

“I’m not your project,” he continued, his voice shaking. “I’m not…I’m not some broken thing you can fix and forget about.”

Y/N’s lips parted, but she didn’t speak. Instead, her shadows curled around her, dimming the space between them.

“I gave you the tools to survive,” she said finally, her voice quiet but firm. “I never promised anything else.”

Azriel felt the air leave his lungs, his chest tightening painfully. “Why?” he asked, barely more than a whisper. “Why did you save me? Why do you keep coming back?”

She hesitated, her shadows stilling around her. Then, with a sad smile, she said, “Because you remind me of someone I couldn’t save.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. Azriel stared at her, his throat dry, his heart hammering in his chest.

“So that’s all I am?” he choked out. “A replacement?”

She didn’t answer. She only stepped back, the shadows consuming her once more. “You’re stronger than you think, Azriel,” she said, her voice echoing as she vanished. “You don’t need me.”

But he did. He needed her more than anything, and as the silence settled around him, Azriel sank to his knees, his shadows curling around him like a shroud.

The years passed, and Azriel grew into his role as the Illyrian spymaster. The shadows became an extension of him, whispering secrets, cloaking him in anonymity, making him deadly. But with every mission, every battle, he found himself waiting for her. Searching.

Sometimes, she came.

She appeared the night before his first battle in the war. Azriel sat alone by the fire, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug, his shadows restless in the dark. He could feel the weight of the coming fight pressing on his chest, the fear he couldn’t voice clawing at his throat.

“Pensive as always,” came that familiar, teasing voice.

He nearly dropped his mug, whipping around to see her leaning against a tree. She hadn’t changed—she never did. The same sharp grin, the same restless shadows, but as she stepped closer, Azriel noticed something: she was now the same age as him. The years had caught up to her, and she looked as real and tangible as anyone else.

She met his gaze, and for the first time, Azriel found himself at a loss for words. She wasn’t just the mysterious, untouchable figure who had first appeared in his cell; she was a woman now, with fire in her eyes and a strength that matched his own.

“You’re late,” he muttered, though the relief in his voice betrayed him.

“Am I?” She crossed her arms, her smile faltering as she stepped closer. “You’ve grown,” she said, her tone softer now. Her gaze lingered on the hard lines of his face, the broadness of his shoulders.

Azriel couldn’t help but stare at her, his heart racing for reasons he couldn’t understand. He had always seen her as this untouchable being—someone apart from the world. But now, looking at her, something shifted in him. She was beautiful.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

Her eyes widened for a split second, and for the briefest moment, Azriel saw her guard drop. Then she tilted her head, a small, knowing smile curving her lips.

“Finally noticing, huh?” she teased, her voice light but there was something deeper in her eyes. “Took you long enough.”

He cleared his throat, embarrassed by his admission. “Why are you here?”

“To remind you,” she said, crouching in front of him. Her shadows curled around her like a shield, as if they could protect her from the truth in her own words. “That you can’t protect everyone. That sometimes, no matter how hard you try, people die.”

The words hit him like a blow, and he flinched. “What kind of encouragement is that?”

“It’s the truth,” she said simply, standing again. “And it’s something you’ll need to learn if you’re going to survive this war.”

He stared at her, anger and hurt warring in his chest. “Is that why you gave me these shadows? To prepare me for failure?”

Her gaze softened, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she stepped closer, pressing a hand to his shoulder. “Live through tomorrow, Azriel. That’s all you have to do.”

And just like that, she was gone.

Y/N didn’t visit when he met Morrigan, but Azriel thought of her often. As he fell for Mor, captivated by her fire and fearlessness, a part of him wondered what Y/N would think of her. Would she approve? Would she mock him for falling for someone so unattainable?

The next time Y/N appeared, it was years later, after Mor had made it clear that her heart would never belong to him.

“She doesn’t deserve your devotion, you know,” Y/N said, materializing beside him one night as he sharpened Truth-Teller.

Azriel didn’t flinch this time, didn’t even look at her. “You don’t know her.”

“I know you,” she replied, tilting her head. “And I know she doesn’t see you the way you want her to. She never will.”

He slammed the blade down, his shadows flaring. “Why do you care? You disappear for years and show up just to remind me of everything I can’t have?”

Her smile faltered, her shadows stilling around her. “I care because I’ve seen this before,” she said quietly. “I’ve watched someone pour their heart into a dream that was never theirs to hold. It doesn’t end well.”

Azriel swallowed hard, her words cutting too close. “And what about you?” he asked. “What’s your excuse for running every time I need you?”

Her shadows tightened around her like armor, and she took a step back. “You’ve never needed me, Azriel,” she said, her voice cool. “You’ve always been stronger than you think.”

And then she was gone again, leaving him with nothing but his shadows and the ache in his chest.

By the time the second war began, Azriel’s heart was no longer tangled in Mor. Instead, it was pulled toward Elain—gentle, golden Elain, who looked at him with something close to understanding. She had never spoken of love, never promised him anything, but her presence calmed something in him. He found solace in her gentleness.

But Y/N’s presence still lingered, a phantom in his mind. She visited less frequently now, each appearance more fleeting than the last. Still, he thought of her as he prepared for war, wondering if she’d show herself one last time.

She did.

It was after the final battle, when Azriel had been struck down and left bleeding in the mud. He drifted in and out of consciousness, his thoughts consumed by Elain’s face. He imagined her by his side, her soft hands tending to his wounds.

When he finally opened his eyes, it wasn’t Elain sitting beside him.

It was Y/N.

Her hands trembled as they pressed against his wound, her shadows swirling erratically around her. Her face was pale, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“You’re awake,” she breathed, her voice cracking.

Azriel blinked, disoriented. “Y/N…?”

Her lip trembled, and she looked away, focusing on his bandages. “You almost died,” she said, her tone raw. “You stupid, reckless fool.”

He tried to sit up, but she pushed him back down, her hands firm against his chest. “Stay still,” she snapped, though her voice shook.

“Why are you here?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

She froze, her gaze locking onto his. For the first time, he saw the cracks in her armor—the grief and pain she’d always hidden.

“Because I’ve been here before,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “With someone I couldn’t save. I couldn’t… I couldn’t watch it happen again.”

Azriel’s heart stopped. “Who?” he asked softly.

Her shadows curled around her protectively, and she shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

But it did matter. Because in that moment, Azriel realized that Y/N’s walls weren’t built to keep him out—they were built to keep her pain in.

“Y/N…” he started, his chest tightening. “What happened?”

She swallowed hard, refusing to meet his gaze. Her hand shook as it pressed against his wound. “It’s not you, Azriel. It’s me. I can’t lose anyone else.” Her voice cracked with the weight of unsaid words.

Azriel’s breath faltered as he reached up, gripping her wrist weakly. “You’re not losing me,” he whispered, trying to ease her trembling hand. His eyes searched hers, desperate to understand.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she murmured, her voice raw, but there was a flicker of something between them—something unspoken, something more than just the shadows between them.

He winced as pain lanced through him, but his focus never left her. “You’re afraid. I can see it, Y/N. What happened to you? What are you hiding from me?”

Her eyes flashed, and she jerked her hand away from him, stepping back as if she couldn’t bear to be near him. “I’m not hiding anything,” she snapped, but there was a tremor in her voice. “I’m trying to save you, Azriel. Just let me do this.”

He watched her, struggling to sit up once more, despite the pain gnawing at him. “I’ve never seen you like this,” he said, his voice soft, his gaze unwavering. “I’ve never seen you unsure. Never seen you afraid.”

She flinched at his words, but she didn’t look away. For the first time in all the years he’d known her, Y/N seemed human—fragile, vulnerable, as if she was teetering on the edge of something too painful to face.

“I’ve always been sure of one thing,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “That I couldn’t let you die like this. But maybe… maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s just a matter of time.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest. “Don’t say that.”

But her eyes were distant, haunted, as if she had already seen the future he feared most. She took a shaky breath, forcing a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Rest now, Azriel. I’ll be here when you wake.”

And despite the warmth of her touch, despite the care she showed him, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was already slipping away from him. That, no matter what, she would always be just beyond his reach.

The night was quiet—too quiet for Azriel’s liking. He had been staring at the ceiling for hours, unable to sleep, despite the comfort of the warm bed and the endless fussing from his family. Elain had been by his side all day, her delicate hands tending to him with concern, constantly checking his wounds and offering comfort, but it didn’t ease the ache in his chest.

The ache wasn’t from the physical pain, but from the lingering thoughts of Y/N—the girl who had been with him through so much, only to retreat into the shadows yet again. He hadn’t seen her since that night at the war camp, when she had pulled him back from the edge. His shadows were restless, whispering to him, and he felt an odd sense of longing for her presence.

As if summoned by his thoughts, he heard the faintest rustle in the air—the whisper of shadows—and then, the unmistakable warmth of her presence. He stiffened, his breath catching, his heart skipping a beat as the room seemed to shift around him.

And then, there she was—Y/N.

She stepped into the room so quietly that Azriel wasn’t sure if he was imagining it at first. But no, he could feel her—sense her—just as he always had, only there was something different. She didn’t look the same as she had before.

Her once abundant shadows, swirling around her with their usual energy, now seemed… muted. Faint. Almost like they were retreating into her skin, leaving her exposed in a way Azriel had never seen. Her usual wraith-like appearance, so fluid and untouchable, had softened. The shadows didn’t cling to her the same way. Instead, they hovered at a distance, as though afraid to touch her.

He noticed it immediately. It was subtle—almost too subtle for anyone else to catch—but to Azriel, who had always seen the world through the lens of shadows, it was glaring.

“Y/N…” he whispered, his voice catching in his throat as he studied her, trying to make sense of the change. His shadows hummed softly, picking up on the strange shift in the air around them. “What happened to your shadows?”

Y/N paused, the faintest hint of a wince passing over her features. She didn’t answer him right away, her gaze flickering down to the floor as if she was gathering her thoughts.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her voice tight. “I’m fine.”

Azriel frowned, unwilling to let it go. He was too perceptive, too attuned to the ebb and flow of shadows to ignore it. “You’re not fine,” he said, his voice firm despite the exhaustion weighing on him. “There’s less of them.”

Her eyes flickered with something that was either guilt or sorrow—it was hard to tell, but whatever it was, it made Azriel’s stomach twist.

She took a slow breath and approached the bed, her presence now as heavy as the shadows she had once carried so effortlessly. There was a shift in her energy, and the deeper he looked, the more he noticed. The scars on her skin were faint, almost imperceptible in the dim light, but they were there. They marred her otherwise flawless complexion, a delicate tracery of lines that seemed to be almost a part of her now—woven into the fabric of who she was.

Azriel’s breath caught. “What are those?” he whispered, his hand instinctively reaching out toward her arm.

Y/N flinched, though she didn’t pull away. She held his gaze for a long moment before she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “They’re nothing, Azriel. Just… remnants.”

“Remnants?” he echoed, his brow furrowing. “What happened to you?”

She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she placed her hand gently on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat with a tenderness that sent a pang of something deep into his soul. She was always so careful, so careful of him, yet never letting him in. Not fully.

“I needed to hear it, Azriel,” she said, her voice soft, almost apologetic. “To know it’s still there.”

Her head rested gently against his chest again, her ear pressed to the steady beat of his heart. Azriel’s hand hesitated in the air between them, but then he settled it on her head, his fingers brushing her hair with a quiet tenderness.

“You don’t need to worry,” he murmured, though his voice wavered with the weight of his own concern. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N didn’t respond, though she squeezed her eyes shut as if trying to hold back something. A tear, maybe, or something much heavier. She stayed there for a moment, listening to his heartbeat, as though it was the only thing in the world that could ground her.

Azriel’s eyes flickered toward the shadows around her once more. Now that he was closer, he could see it more clearly. They were less vibrant, more faded than before. He could feel the absence of something that had always been there. But it wasn’t just her shadows—it was her.

“Y/N…” His voice trembled with realization, and his hand reached out, his fingers brushing the faint scars on her arm. “You gave them to me, didn’t you?”

Her eyes shot open, wide and panicked for a fraction of a second before she regained control of herself. She pulled away from him quickly, as if to hide the truth that was written all over her.

But it was too late. Azriel had already seen the way the scars tracked down her skin, the way her shadows had diminished as though they were tethered to him. Her heart was in her shadows. She had given him pieces of herself.

She didn’t look at him, her gaze fixed on the floor as if she couldn’t bear to meet his eyes.

“How long?” he asked, his voice barely more than a breath. “How long have you been giving them to me?”

Y/N hesitated, and then, her voice low and filled with an unspeakable sadness, she answered. “Since the beginning. From the moment I gave you the gift of shadows. I knew you needed it to survive.”

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest. “But why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you say something?”

Her lips trembled, and she took a step back, crossing her arms around herself as if the distance would protect her from his words. “Because I knew you wouldn’t let me do it. I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me, Azriel. I couldn’t risk you thinking you owed me something. I gave you the shadows because it was the only way to save you.”

Azriel’s heart shattered. “You’ve been giving me everything,” he whispered, his voice raw. “And I never even knew.”

Y/N didn’t look at him. Instead, she stared down at her hands, clenching them into fists as if trying to hold herself together. “It wasn’t for you to know. You just needed to live.”

Azriel reached for her then, his hands trembling as he pulled her closer. “I’m alive because of you, Y/N. I’m here because of you.”

She didn’t pull away. She let him hold her, and this time, Azriel couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling that gnawed at him—the knowledge that she had been silently, desperately giving parts of herself to keep him alive, even at the cost of her own well-being.

“You’ve given me more than enough,” he whispered against her hair. “I’ll spend my life making sure you don’t regret it.”

Azriel’s heart was still pounding, but it wasn’t from pain anymore. It was from the realization of everything Y/N had given him, everything she had silently sacrificed in the shadows to keep him alive. The weight of her unspoken devotion hung heavy between them, filling the quiet room with an intensity that neither of them could ignore.

They lay there for a long time, his chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths, while Y/N remained curled beside him, her head resting on his shoulder. The shadows that had once surrounded her so densely were now distant, fading into the edges of the room. It was like the air itself had changed, as though everything in their shared silence was leading to something unspoken, something fragile that neither of them dared to break.

Azriel didn’t know how long they stayed there, but it didn’t matter. In this moment, the world outside the House of Wind didn’t exist. It was just the two of them, sharing the same breath, the same heartbeat—nothing else mattered.

His hand found hers again, their fingers barely touching, but the contact sent a shiver through him. He could feel the warmth of her skin, the soft pulse of her blood beneath the surface. He could feel how much she had given, and how much he still didn’t understand.

He lifted his head slightly to look at her, and for the first time, he saw Y/N fully. He saw her not as the mysterious girl who had given him shadows, nor as the constant presence that always seemed to be there when he needed her. But as a woman—one who had loved him from the beginning, in the quietest, most selfless way imaginable.

His fingers gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She didn’t pull away, and instead, she looked at him with eyes full of emotions she hadn’t yet shared.

“You’ve always been there,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “Even when I didn’t see you.” His gaze dropped to her lips, and something stirred within him. The air felt charged—heavy with everything they hadn’t said, everything they’d buried deep inside themselves.

Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. She seemed to hesitate, her chest rising and falling in quick succession. Azriel couldn’t tear his gaze away from her lips, couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment—the one where everything was laid bare between them—was finally leading somewhere. Somewhere they both knew they needed to go.

Slowly, cautiously, Azriel leaned in. His breath mingled with hers, their proximity so close, he could feel the heat of her skin and the pulse of her heartbeat beneath his palm. He hovered there, just a breath away, and for a moment, the world seemed to slow. The shadows in the room held their breath, waiting for whatever might come next.

But then—

Bang!

The door to the room swung open with such force that Azriel and Y/N jerked apart, the moment shattered like glass.

Azriel’s heart dropped. Y/N, sensing the intrusion, didn’t hesitate. Before Azriel could even process what had happened, the shadows around her began to ripple and twist, pulling her into the darkness. She disappeared completely, leaving no trace of her presence behind, not even a whisper of shadow.

Azriel blinked, his heart still pounding in the aftermath, but he couldn’t understand what had just happened. She was gone, like smoke on the wind, and he was left alone, with the deafening silence echoing in his ears.

Elain stood in the doorway, her face flushed with concern. “Azriel! I heard you moving—what’s—” Her eyes flicked from Azriel to the now-closed door behind her, confusion clouding her expression as she searched the room. She had clearly heard someone, or sensed something—had she noticed the faint shift in the air? Azriel wasn’t sure, but he didn’t want to risk it.

“I’m fine,” Azriel managed, his voice tight as he rubbed his face with a weary hand. His heart was still racing, but he forced himself to focus on Elain. “You can stop worrying.”

Elain stepped further into the room, her eyes softening, though a flicker of doubt still lingered in her gaze. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright, Azriel,” she said gently, crossing the room to sit beside him on the bed. Her hand settled on his arm, her touch warm and comforting, but there was a shift between them. Azriel could feel it—like a crack in the facade that neither of them was addressing.

Azriel didn’t want to acknowledge the absence of Y/N, the quiet ache that was left behind in her wake. It felt like a betrayal to even think of her now, when Elain was here, caring for him, doing everything right. But the gnawing emptiness in his chest wouldn’t go away. He had come so close to something—something he hadn’t known he wanted—and now it was gone.

“I’m fine,” Azriel repeated, this time with more force, trying to push aside the storm of emotions swirling inside him. He didn’t look at Elain, couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. “Really.”

She smiled, though there was a hint of uncertainty in her expression. “You don’t have to be fine, Azriel. Not with me.”

Azriel nodded, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. He wasn’t sure how long he could keep pretending that everything was as it should be—especially when his heart still ached with the memory of a woman who had vanished into the shadows, leaving only the echoes of her love behind.

As the door closed softly behind Elain, Azriel sat there in silence, his heart heavy with regret, with questions that he knew would never be answered. He didn’t dare move, didn’t dare speak, as he tried to reconcile the absence of Y/N with the present reality.

The days that followed felt like a blur, with Elain at his side, her concern and kindness a balm for his wounds, but no matter how hard he tried to focus on her, his mind kept drifting back to the shadows—back to the woman who had given him life, but who would never be his.

The days blurred into one another, each one feeling the same as the last. Y/N stood in the shadows, as she had so many times before, watching Azriel from the distance. But this time, it was different. She watched him, not just as the silent observer she had always been, but as someone who felt the sting of every quiet touch, every soft smile he exchanged with Elain.

It was impossible to ignore, impossible to escape. There they were—Azriel and Elain—two souls who were drawn together by something so much more than Y/N could ever be. It hurt in ways that she didn’t understand, but every time they passed by her, lost in each other, it felt like a dagger piercing her heart.

Over the next few months, Y/N saw it all. She saw them taking their walks down the Sidra, Azriel’s arm casually draped around Elain’s shoulders as they strolled beneath the stars. She could hear their laughter, soft and shared, mingling with the sounds of the city. Their voices were always so low, so intimate, like they had a language of their own that Y/N could never hope to understand.

She watched them walk around the Rainbow, too. Azriel would lean in close to Elain, the two of them sharing whispered words as they gazed out over the city. Y/N could see the way Elain’s face softened in Azriel’s presence, the way his eyes seemed to linger on her, like she was the only one who mattered in that moment.

And then there were the small moments—those private, quiet exchanges that felt like they were meant for no one else. They would go to the bakery together, Elain picking out pastries while Azriel stood close beside her, his hand brushing against hers as they laughed over which cakes to buy. It was all so simple, so perfect, and Y/N stood on the edges of it, never invited, never included. She could only watch, her heart twisting with each passing moment.

She wanted to leave. She wanted to retreat into the shadows and never come out. But something held her there—something that made it impossible to look away. Perhaps it was the knowledge that she had given Azriel something so profound, something so intimate, yet he was looking for something else entirely. Something that she couldn’t provide.

As the Solstice approached, Y/N felt the weight of everything that had passed between them. The tension in her chest grew with every passing day. She had seen how Azriel and Elain had grown closer. She had felt it, too—felt the quiet ache that came with the realization that no matter what she had done, no matter how much of herself she had given, it would never be enough.

Solstice night arrived, bringing with it the cold chill of winter and the warmth of the city. The streets of Velaris sparkled with light, the stars above bright as they twinkled down on the festivities. Music drifted through the air, and Y/N found herself standing at the balcony once more, watching Azriel and Elain from the shadows.

They were together, of course, as they always were now. Azriel was laughing softly at something Elain had said, his eyes sparkling as he looked at her, and Y/N felt that familiar ache in her chest again. She didn’t want to feel this way. She didn’t want to be the one to stand on the sidelines, watching their happiness from afar. But she couldn’t help herself.

They were walking toward the balcony now, the noise of the celebration fading as they grew closer. Y/N hesitated, almost wanting to step away, but something kept her rooted to the spot. The air around them was thick with something unspoken, and she could feel it—the connection, the pull that had always been there between Azriel and herself, but now tangled up with Elain.

Azriel paused just beside her, his presence so close she could feel the heat of his body. He was still laughing softly, his gaze lingering on Elain with a warmth that Y/N couldn’t deny. And then, for a moment, the world seemed to stop.

Azriel and Elain were standing so close to one another, their bodies just inches apart. Y/N could see the way their eyes met, the soft, intimate look they shared. For a heartbeat, it was like time had stopped—just the three of them, frozen in that moment. Y/N felt her breath catch in her throat, watching the slow, inevitable progression of what she had known all along.

Azriel’s gaze flickered to Elain’s lips, and Y/N’s stomach churned as she realized what was about to happen. She wanted to turn away. She wanted to leave and never look back, but she was rooted to the spot, unable to escape.

Azriel leaned in slowly, his breath catching in his throat as he moved closer to Elain. Y/N could feel the pull, the tension in the air that seemed to crackle with anticipation. It was happening—he was going to kiss her. The kiss that Y/N had known was coming, but it still tore through her, nonetheless.

Just before their lips could touch, a voice broke through the stillness. “Azriel.”

Y/N’s heart started beating again as Azriel pulled back, turning toward the interruption. Rhys stood in the doorway, his voice firm, his expression urgent. “We need you. Now.”

The moment was shattered. Azriel stepped back from Elain, his gaze flickering to Y/N for a brief second, as if he could see her —just enough for her to see the flash of uncertainty in his eyes. But then, just as quickly, it was gone. He smiled at Elain, and Y/N watched as he walked away without a word, his attention turning back to Rhys.

Elain’s smile was still there, softer now, but there was a question in her eyes as she watched Azriel leave. Y/N could see it—the small crack in the perfect picture they had built. But it didn’t matter. Because when Azriel looked back at her, it was as if he had never seen her at all.

And with that, Y/N slipped back into the shadows, her heart heavier than it had ever been. She had hoped, for just a moment, that things could be different—that maybe, just maybe, Azriel would have kissed her that night. But the world was never that kind.

The moment Azriel left with Rhys, a heavy, uncomfortable silence settled over the House of Wind. Y/N had learned, over the years, to trust her instincts, especially where Azriel was concerned. When Rhys had summoned him, his voice sharp and urgent, her stomach twisted in response. They had been discussing something—something dangerous. Koschei had made a move, and Y/N’s heart had dropped when she heard that name. The Death God.

The city of Velaris was far behind them when Azriel ventured out of the court’s protected borders, heading toward the desolate lake where Koschei was rumored to be hiding. Y/N knew this place—Kochei’s lake was an eerie, forgotten expanse of black waters, known only for its unnerving stillness. The entire area gave off an aura of decay, both from the land and the whispers of ancient power that lingered there. It was as if the very earth around the lake had been poisoned, steeped in magic of the darkest kind.

The air was thick with the oppressive weight of Koschei’s magic as Azriel stood before the lake, his eyes scanning the dark waters, his wings poised in readiness. Y/N crouched low, her shadows swirling around her, blending into the darkness as she watched him, ready to intervene if she had to.

Koschei’s presence lingered just beyond the periphery, an unseen but unmistakable force. The Death God had been waiting for the right moment, and now, Azriel had walked right into his trap.

Azriel’s eyes narrowed, sensing something amiss, but before he could make a move, the shadows around him thickened, clamping down on his limbs, immobilizing him with an invisible grip. His body stiffened, his wings twitching in resistance, but the hold was too strong.

Y/N’s heart pounded as she watched, knowing that she couldn’t allow him to fall under Koschei’s control. She couldn’t let him be taken—history would not repeat itself.

But Koschei wasn’t after Azriel.

Not yet.

With a malevolent grin, Koschei stepped from the shadows, his cold eyes gleaming as he saw Y/N standing, powerless to act as Azriel struggled against the restraints. The Death God’s form materialized fully before her, his presence like a weight on her chest.

“Ah, Y/N,” Koschei’s voice was low, teasing. “I see you’ve brought your shadows with you. They’ve always been loyal to you, haven’t they?”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She stood her ground, though her heart raced in her chest. “I won’t let you have him,” she said, her voice hoarse but firm. “You won’t touch him.”

Koschei tilted his head, amusement flashing in his eyes. “You think you can stop me? I’ve waited for so long to take what’s mine.”

Before she could react, Koschei’s magic reached out, grabbing her by the throat and dragging her forward. She struggled, but his grip was unyielding, his fingers like ice against her skin.

Azriel’s voice, strained and desperate, reached her ears as he tried to free himself, but the shadows around him only tightened.

“Y/N!” Azriel’s voice was thick with fear, his shadows flickering in agitation as he fought against the restraints. “Get out of here! Please!”

But Y/N didn’t move. She couldn’t leave him—not when he needed her. Not when she was his only hope.

Koschei chuckled darkly, his hands tightening around Y/N’s throat. “You’re quite the puzzle, aren’t you? Always playing the hero, always throwing yourself into danger for others.”

Y/N gasped for air, but her eyes never left Azriel. “You can’t have him,” she said through gritted teeth, her voice full of defiance. “I won’t allow it.”

Koschei’s smile was cruel, his grip on her throat tightening further as he moved closer. “Finally, someone you’ll fight for,” he purred, his voice dripping with malice. “How touching.”

But Y/N didn’t falter. She could feel her shadows, the last of her magic, slipping away. She had to make her move now.

With every ounce of strength she had left, she reached out, sending the last of her shadows toward Azriel, her magic flooding into him. She could feel his strength return as the shadows wrapped around him, empowering him, protecting him.

“No,” Koschei hissed, his face twisted in anger. “You can’t do this!”

But Y/N didn’t care. She had made her choice. Azriel’s safety was her only priority now.

As the last of her power left her, she whispered, almost to herself, “You can’t have him. I won’t allow it.”

The words hung in the air, thick with finality, as her vision blurred. The shadows around her began to fade, dissipating into nothingness. Her body felt weak, her breath shallow. She had given everything.

Koschei let out a furious roar as he tried to push against her will, but it was too late. Azriel’s shadows surged around him, breaking his restraints, and with a powerful snap, the Death God was forced back.

Azriel had broken free.

Her body crumpled to the ground, the shadows that had once sustained her now gone, leaving her fragile and empty. She could feel her strength slipping away, her body fading into the cold grasp of death. But she had done it. She had protected him.

Azriel’s voice reached her again, frantic and full of desperation. “Y/N! No!”

Azriel’s blood boiled. His shadows had surged, fought back, but in the end, it hadn’t been enough. Y/N was crumpled at Koschei’s feet, her body barely breathing, her shadows gone, dissipated into the nothingness that Koschei had left in his wake.

His fists clenched, fury burning through him in a white-hot blaze. No.

Not her. He couldn’t lose her.

Koschei’s laughter echoed in his ears, and he could feel the Death God’s presence press against him, his dark power threatening to swallow him whole. “You think you can stop me?” Koschei taunted, his voice filled with venom. “You’ve already lost.”

Azriel’s wings snapped forward, his talons cutting through the air. The shadows around him gathered in a vortex of rage as he fought back with everything he had. Koschei tried to push against him, his power a suffocating weight, but Azriel’s determination surged higher. He wasn’t going to lose her. Not after everything. Not when he’d come this far.

With a brutal, final strike, Azriel’s shadows wrapped around Koschei, pulling the Death God away, slamming him into the earth. The battle was violent, brutal, the world around them bending and breaking under the weight of their fury. Azriel’s injuries didn’t matter. His exhaustion didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except her.

Azriel drove his shadow blades into the ground, pinning Koschei in place, and for a moment, everything was still.

But that stillness shattered when his eyes fell on Y/N.

Her form was so fragile now, the light of her presence dimming with every breath she took. The once-vibrant shadows that had defined her, that had been a part of her essence, were now nothing more than an echo.

No.

With a final, guttural roar, Azriel turned his focus to Koschei, slamming his power down upon the Death God. Koschei screamed, vanishing in a wisp of smoke, but the damage had been done. Azriel had won, but it felt hollow. It didn’t matter. He could feel her slipping away.

As he staggered toward her, blood dripping from his wounds, his heart clenched at the sight of Y/N’s frantic, desperate eyes meeting his.

“Y/N,” he breathed, crawling to her, reaching out to touch her, to anchor himself to her, even as his body screamed in protest.

Her breath was shallow, her eyes wide with fear, but there was no power left in her. The shadows had abandoned her. She had given everything.

Her lips parted, but she couldn’t speak. She was fading. The life that had once burned so brightly in her was now flickering out, and Azriel’s heart shattered with every passing second.

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Azriel whispered, his voice cracking. The panic rose in his chest like a choking wave, suffocating him.

He reached for her, cradling her in his arms, pressing his face to her forehead. “Please, don’t die. I can’t lose you. Not like this.”

Her eyes met his, but there was no recognition, no spark of the strength she had once had. Just… emptiness.

He leaned down, his voice breaking as he whispered to the shadows in desperation.

“Go back to her. Please… I need you. Keep her alive.”

He felt them—his shadows, the ones he controlled, the ones that were so much a part of him. But they didn’t move. They lingered, cold and unyielding.

But then, as if the very act of begging for her, for the one person who had been there for him in the darkest of moments, had unlocked something within the shadows, one tiny speck of darkness flickered into existence. It crawled toward her wrist, wrapping around it like a thread of hope.

Azriel watched in a stunned silence as the small shadow pulsed, then expanded, feeding life back into her, bringing her warmth, her pulse, her breath back.

Her eyes fluttered, and then—there—a faint spark, a flicker of recognition. Her hand moved ever so slightly.

Azriel’s breath caught in his chest as he pulled her closer, his face hovering inches from hers, his lips trembling. She was alive.

Her eyes opened fully, still filled with that same raw vulnerability, the same trust that had always been there. But now, the fear had gone. She wasn’t fading anymore.

“Y/N,” Azriel whispered, his voice rough with emotion. He pulled her into his chest, pressing his forehead against hers. “Never do that again,” he muttered, his voice a mix of relief and raw anger. “Do you hear me? Never.”

Y/N’s breathing was steady now, and though she was still weak, the shadows had returned to her—if only just enough to give her life again. And Azriel could feel the change in her, in him, as the bond they shared snapped into place.

A rush of warmth flooded through him, a sharp, undeniable connection that had always been there but now was more real than ever. His heart slammed against his ribs as he realized the truth.

She was his. And now, in the aftermath of everything, the mating bond had been forged between them.

Azriel held her tighter, his grip desperate, as if he were afraid she might slip away again. But she wouldn’t.

Not now. Not ever.

Azriel’s wings beat steadily as he flew through the cool night sky, cradling Y/N in his arms. Her breath was steady now, her body still fragile but alive. Alive because of him. Alive because of the bond they had finally accepted, because of the shadows she had given him, because of the sacrifices she had made for him time and time again.

He landed softly in front of the River House, the place that had always been home. Elain was there, as if she had been waiting, her concern etched on her face when she saw Y/N in his arms.

“Azriel—what happened? Is she—” Elain started, her voice filled with worry.

Azriel shook his head, a soft growl of frustration building in his chest. “She’ll be fine. But there’s something I need to tell you.” He stepped past her, carrying Y/N toward the bedroom where he had left her resting, the weight of the conversation he needed to have with Elain sitting heavily on his shoulders.

He laid Y/N gently on the bed and tucked the blankets around her, making sure she was comfortable. She stirred slightly at the touch, but her eyes stayed closed, her body still recovering from the ordeal.

Elain stood in the doorway, watching him with a mixture of concern and confusion. Azriel turned to her, his heart aching, knowing this was the moment he needed to speak the truth.

“Azriel… what happened?” Elain’s voice was soft but insistent.

He sighed, looking down at the floor for a moment before raising his eyes to meet hers. “Elain, there’s something I need to say.” He took a breath. “You’re kind, and you’ve been wonderful to me. But…” He hesitated, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “But I don’t feel the way I thought I did for you. You’ve been a friend to me, Elain. But there’s someone else.”

Her face softened, understanding dawning. But still, there was a sadness in her eyes, a quiet resignation that Azriel couldn’t ignore.

“I… I see,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. She took a step back, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I always knew it wasn’t the same. But I’m glad you were honest with me, Azriel.”

Azriel stepped forward, his hand brushing hers in a gentle, reassuring gesture. “You’ll always be my friend, Elain. And I’ll always care about you. But… I’ve found something, someone else.” His voice hardened with emotion, a touch of bitterness slipping through. “And I owe her everything.”

Elain nodded, her lips trembling. “I understand. I just… want you to be happy, Azriel. I hope she makes you happy.”

Azriel gave her a final, grateful nod before he turned, his heart still heavy with the weight of what he’d just confessed. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her. But Y/N had always been his destiny—his heart, his shadows, his everything.

Azriel walked into the living room where Rhys, Cassian, and Feyre were gathered. He had just returned with Y/N, and his heart was still pounding from the emotions of everything that had just transpired. The weight of his words felt heavy, but it was time. Time to share everything with his family.

“There’s someone you need to meet,” Azriel said quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of anticipation and reverence.

Rhys looked up from the chair he was seated in, his brows furrowing in curiosity. “What’s going on, Az?” He stood, sensing the shift in his brother. The tension in Azriel’s posture was palpable.

Azriel nodded toward the bedroom door. “Come with me. I’ll explain everything.”

Without waiting for another word, Azriel led them down the hallway, his mind racing as he walked toward the room where Y/N had been resting. He paused before the door, taking a breath. This was it. The moment he had been dreading and longing for—revealing the truth about the woman who had always been by his side.

He opened the door gently and stepped inside, motioning for the others to follow. Y/N was lying on the bed, her body still fragile from the toll of the battle, but her breathing steady. She looked peaceful now, her form bathed in the soft light of the room.

Azriel turned to face Rhys, Cassian, and Feyre. “This is Y/N,” he began, his voice rough with emotion. “She’s… she’s the one who has been with me all along. The one who gave me everything—her shadows, her life—without question.”

Feyre stepped forward first, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at the woman resting on the bed. “What do you mean? What’s happened?”

Azriel’s chest tightened as he continued. “Y/N saved me. She saved me when I didn’t know how to save myself.” He swallowed hard. “I was a broken, lost soul when I first met her. I was drowning in the darkness, consumed by it. And she… she gave me her shadows. At first, I didn’t understand what it meant. But now, I see it. All of it. The sacrifices she’s made for me. The love she’s given, even when I didn’t deserve it.”

Cassian stepped forward, looking down at Y/N with a mixture of awe and respect. “What do you mean, she gave you her shadows? How? Why?”

Azriel’s eyes never left Y/N as he spoke. “She didn’t just give me her shadows. She became them. When she was dying, when she lost her first love, Koschei offered her a way out. A way to survive. She made a deal with him, traded her life for the power of shadows. And in return, she gave me those shadows, kept me alive when I was losing myself to the darkness.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I had no idea how much she was sacrificing for me.”

Feyre looked at Azriel, her expression filled with both admiration and sadness. “She gave you her life. She gave you the very thing that kept her alive.”

Azriel nodded. “She did. But it didn’t end there. After the first war, when I was still struggling with the weight of it all, she was there. She was always there. And when I needed her most—when I was losing myself to Koschei, to the darkness that had been trying to consume me for so long—she gave everything again. She gave me the last of her shadows.”

Cassian’s eyes widened as the weight of Azriel’s words sank in. “And now… now she’s like this?” He asked, gesturing to Y/N, still unconscious and fragile on the bed.

Azriel’s voice softened, a thread of emotion weaving through it. “Yes. She gave it all. The last of her shadows. She’s barely hanging on.”

Rhys stepped forward, his gaze never leaving Azriel’s face. “But she’s alive, Azriel. She’s here. And we’ll make sure she stays that way. She’s part of this family now, just like you.”

Azriel nodded, the emotions too much to contain. He approached the bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from Y/N’s face. “I won’t let her fade. Not after everything she’s done for me.”

Cassian stepped forward then, his voice thick with gratitude and something deeper—something unspoken. “Thank you, Y/N. For everything you’ve done—for Azriel, for all of us.”

Azriel’s heart clenched as he saw Cassian gently place a hand on Y/N’s wrist, the gesture full of reverence. It was clear that Y/N had already touched all of their hearts, even though she had never asked for anything in return.

Feyre, too, stepped forward, tears brimming in her eyes as she looked down at the woman who had given so much for her family. “I can’t even imagine the pain you must have gone through,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you for saving him.”

Azriel turned to face his family. “She did what none of us could. She saved me. And I owe her everything.”

For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of Azriel’s words hanging in the air. Y/N was still asleep, but the shadows around her—slowly beginning to return—told the story of her sacrifice. And Azriel knew that he would never take that for granted again.

Finally, as the silence stretched on, Azriel leaned down to kiss Y/N’s forehead, his hand resting on her chest as if to keep her tethered to this world. He could feel the bond between them now, stronger than it had ever been, and he knew it wasn’t just the shadows that connected them. It was something deeper.

“Never again will you fight alone,” Azriel whispered softly, his voice barely audible. “You’ve given me everything. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure you never regret it.”

The warmth of sunlight filtered through the curtains, the soft scent of roses mingling with the earthy scent of the river outside. Y/N stirred, her eyelids fluttering as she slowly emerged from the fog of sleep. The weight on her chest, her heart, was lighter than before, though still heavy with everything that had happened.

She glanced down to find Azriel sitting next to her, his large form leaning back in the chair beside her bed, his gaze focused intently on her. His shadows whispered quietly, as if sensing her waking. His focus, however, was entirely on her.

“I needed to hear it,” Azriel murmured softly, his voice a quiet rasp, barely above a whisper. His hand rested lightly over her chest, just above her heart. His eyes searched her face, searching for any sign of distress. “Your heartbeat. It was the same as mine.”

Y/N blinked, her senses returning as her mind processed the words. She nodded slowly, trying to sit up but feeling the weight of exhaustion still hanging over her.

“Good to see you’re awake,” Azriel added with a small smile. “You’ve been out for three days.”

Before Y/N could respond, a loud knock at the door interrupted them, followed by the unmistakable sound of Cassian’s booming voice from the hallway. “Az, don’t think I haven’t been here for the last few days. We’re all concerned, and if you don’t let me in, I’ll come in myself.”

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound faint but genuine. “He’s quite persistent, isn’t he?”

Azriel grinned, his shadows flickering with amusement. “He’s worse when he’s worried.”

With a flick of his hand, the door creaked open, revealing Cassian standing in the doorway, a huge grin plastered on his face as usual. “You look better, at least,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Not that you could get any worse.” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying concern in his eyes as he entered the room.

Azriel laughed quietly. “You’ve been camped outside my door this entire time, haven’t you?”

Cassian shrugged, unbothered. “Someone had to keep an eye on you both.” He glanced at Y/N, then turned and left the room, only to return minutes later with a tray laden with food—and a large slice of cake. “I figured you might need a treat. You’ve been through enough, so cake it is,” he said, setting it on the bedside table.

Y/N chuckled softly, the smell of cake tempting her despite how tired she still felt. “You really do come bearing gifts, don’t you?”

Cassian winked at her. “I’m a man of many talents. And cake is my specialty.”

Before Y/N could respond, Rhys and Feyre appeared in the doorway, both looking at her with warm smiles, though Feyre’s eyes were filled with quiet curiosity and concern. Rhys took a few steps forward, his presence calm and steady.

“You’re awake,” he said gently, his tone full of warmth. “Good. We’ve all been worried.”

Y/N smiled weakly. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Feyre, who had been standing slightly behind Rhys, moved to the bedside, her eyes softening as she studied Y/N. “Azriel told us about everything. You’ve done so much for him.”

Y/N met her gaze, the weight of the unspoken history between them lingering in the air. “He’s my responsibility. Always has been.”

Cassian leaned against the doorframe with a grin. “You’ll learn quickly, like Feyre did. Once you’re part of Az’s world, you’re part of all of ours.”

Y/N nodded, her voice steady. “I’ve been with Rhys and Cassian for a long time. I’ve followed Cassian into battle more times than I can count. It’s where my scars came from—fighting beside him, making sure he made it out alive.”

There was a long pause as Rhys took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed her words. “You’ve been with us… longer than we realized, then?” he asked quietly.

Y/N’s gaze softened, a faint sadness in her eyes. “I went after you, Rhys. When you were captured during the first war… I helped you. I helped free you. I did what I could.”

Rhys stared at her, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softened. “I never knew. I never realized…”

Y/N’s gaze dropped, and she hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry for what you went through under the mountain, Rhys. I tried to help you… as much as I could. I know it wasn’t enough, but I tried.”

Feyre’s eyes widened, and she glanced between Y/N and Rhys. “You helped him?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “How? I never knew.”

Y/N glanced back at Rhys. “You were important to Azriel. I couldn’t let you break.”

The words hung heavy in the air. Feyre, still standing near Rhys, gasped softly. “The music you sent me… it was you, wasn’t it? The same music that you sent Rhys?”

Y/N nodded quietly. “I couldn’t let Rhys break. He needed to stay strong. He couldn’t fall. Azriel needed him.”

Rhys, his gaze unreadable, looked at Y/N with newfound understanding. “You sent that music? All this time?”

Y/N simply nodded again. “I couldn’t let you lose yourself.”

There was a long, heavy silence, and Azriel could feel the weight of it as he watched Y/N open up in ways he hadn’t expected. He could sense the depth of her sacrifice, of everything she had done for him and for his family without ever expecting recognition or thanks.

Cassian’s deep voice broke the silence. “You’ve been doing all this for him… and for us?” His tone was thick with emotion now, and he stepped forward, placing a hand on Y/N’s shoulder. “You’re a hell of a lot stronger than any of us gave you credit for.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “I did what I had to do.”

Azriel watched her, his heart swelling with the quiet pride he felt for her. She had given so much of herself, had fought so hard to protect them all, and yet, she never asked for anything in return. It had always been about him—about Azriel.

Feyre stepped forward, her hands shaking slightly, and before anyone could stop her, she wrapped Y/N in a tight hug. “Thank you,” Feyre whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’ve done more than we’ll ever know. Thank you for being there—for him. For all of us.”

Y/N stiffened at first, clearly not used to such displays of affection, but after a moment, she relaxed into the embrace. “I never expected thanks,” she said softly, her voice thick with emotion as well. “But… you’re welcome.”

Azriel stood by, silent, watching the family he had once only dreamed of accepting her as one of their own. She had always been by his side, fighting, protecting. Now, she was truly part of his world, part of their world.

As Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre stood together in the room, Y/N smiled faintly, her heart full. She was finally seen. Finally home.

Cassian, Rhys, and Feyre, having shared their heartfelt thanks and goodbyes, stood in the doorway for a moment longer, watching the connection between Y/N and Azriel before they left.

“Get some rest, you two,” Rhys said gently, his eyes full of understanding. “We’ll see you both later. And if you need anything—anything at all—don’t hesitate to ask.”

Cassian gave a wide grin, his voice light as usual, though the affection in his tone was unmistakable. “Take care of each other,” he said, with a wink at Y/N. “We’ll save the cake for when you’re feeling better.”

Feyre’s gaze softened. “We’re here for you, Y/N,” she added quietly. “You’ve been through so much. Take the time you need to heal.”

With that, the three of them departed, leaving the two of them alone in the quiet of the room. Y/N’s gaze followed them for a moment before her tired eyes turned back to Azriel, who was still sitting beside her. He hadn’t said much since they’d all left, his presence quietly constant as always, but there was a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before—something she hadn’t allowed herself to see in the years they had known each other.

As the door clicked shut behind them, she gave him a small, but honest smile. “I’m glad they came by,” she said softly. “It’s strange, having people around again.”

Azriel’s smile was small but warm, his voice full of affection when he spoke. “They care about you. They’re grateful for everything you’ve done for us all.”

Y/N nodded, but there was a quiet sadness in her eyes. “I’ve never asked for anything from them… but they’ve all given me so much already. I don’t know if I deserve it.”

Azriel’s hand reached out to gently cup her face, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek as he spoke softly, his voice thick with emotion. “You do deserve it. More than you know.”

There was a long, quiet pause as they shared a gaze, the weight of everything that had happened, all the shared moments, the sacrifices, and the unspoken love, pressing in on them. It was as though they had finally, after all these years, found a breath to share between them—a breath that was both long overdue and infinitely worth the wait.

Y/N swallowed, her heart racing in her chest as she looked at him, truly looked at him. “Azriel,” she whispered, her voice unsteady. “Please stay. I don’t want to be alone.”

His gaze softened, his expression tender as he nodded. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised quietly.

Without another word, Azriel slipped into the bed beside her, carefully maneuvering his body so that they were close but still mindful of her fragility. She shifted slightly, her hand reaching for his, intertwining their fingers. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked up at him.

Azriel gazed back down at her, his lips parting as he leaned closer, their faces inches apart. He searched her eyes, as if asking for permission, as if he needed her to know how much she meant to him before he closed the space between them.

Y/N’s breath caught as she looked up at him, her chest tightening with emotion. She could feel the bond between them, the connection they had shared for so long, but now it was something more. Something she had longed for but never allowed herself to fully feel.

With a soft exhale, Azriel finally closed the distance, brushing his lips against hers in a kiss that was soft, gentle, but full of everything they had never said. It was a kiss of unspoken words, of everything they had endured, of everything they had fought for. It was a kiss that told the story of their connection, of love and loyalty, of battles fought both internal and external. And most of all, it was a kiss that told the story of their future—a future that they would face together.

When they pulled away, both of them breathless, Y/N’s eyes were wide, her heart racing as she looked at him. “I love you, Azriel,” she whispered, the words finally escaping her lips as her heart overflowed.

Azriel’s voice was low and gravelly, full of emotion as he answered, his hand brushing the hair from her face. “I love you too, Y/N. I’ve always loved you.”

And as they lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the weight of everything that had come before seemed to fall away, leaving only the quiet comfort of the present. In that moment, there was no past, no war, no shadows. There was only the two of them, together, finally allowing themselves the peace they both so desperately needed.

And as they fell asleep, tangled in one another, the world outside could wait. For once, everything was as it should be.

[profound-imagination]

And sometimes, when this fandom gets too much, this is who I picture as Rhysand.

[profound-imagination]

I need help finding a fic! I read it a while ago and at the time it was still on going and it was Bat Boys in the Zombie Apocalypse? Feyre was there? I think it was Az x Reader & maybe a little bit Cassian x Reader? Does anyone know what I’m on about?

[profound-imagination]

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived - Azriel Shadowinger

A/N: Guess who's back? It's me! Should I be packing up to move house right now? Yes, yes I should. Am I? No, no I'm not.

I hope you enjoy this, Azriel does not come off well.

W/C: 4.2K

Azriel hated himself on a good day. Today, today he absolutely loathed himself. He knew how much she cared for him, hel, how much she loved him, that had made his job easier in the beginning, when Rhys had first sent him here as a spy. “It’ll be easy, Az,” Rhys had said, “She's already smitten with you, you’ll be able to walk right into the palace under the guise of courting her and she’ll ensure you have a room and you’re treated as an honoured guest!” Azriel had to agree, it would be easy. She had made it so painfully obvious from the day they had met.  

They had grown closer over the months he’d spent on the Continent with her. She had even gone as far as to source creams for his scars. “I know they won’t be as fancy as the Fae ones you probably use, but the man at the apothecary said they were the best for burns!” She had told him bashfully with a blush crawling over her cheeks. His shadows immediately moving to soothe them without their master's permission. He smiled down at her gently, playing the part he had been assigned, “Thank you, my love, what a thoughtful gift.” He said as he lifted one of her perfect hands to his mouth. Her smile was dazzling. Little did she know he spent his nights at home, in Prythian, an arm wrapped around another woman as they slept or danced or ate with their family.  

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you!” She was breathless as she approached him in the garden. Azriel having just landed in the furthest part of it. “Here I am!” He smiled down at her, she linked their arms and continued to walk alongside him, “There’s to be a ball! For my 21st Birthday, Father has sent invites all over, even to your family in Prythian!” She beamed up at him, as if inviting his family was the best thing to ever happen. Did she really not know the depths of her father's depravity? “That’s wonderful, I’m sure they’d love to attend, Rhysand does love a party.” He told her, “I’m nervous to see them again,” she confessed, “It’s so different now than it was when I last met them.” He patted her hand gently, “You have no reason to be nervous my love, they’ll adore you as I do.” Her eyes sparkled at his comment, and she preened from the compliment. He was never going to forgive himself.  

Cassian and Rhys flanked him as he waited at the bottom of the stairs for her. “You’ve told her, you’ve told Elain?” Rhys nodded, “Yes, she knows the part you are playing here and knows what to expect to see tonight.” Azriel nodded stiffly at his brother once and focused back on the staircase. She looked like an angel floating down the stairs towards him. An angel and a demon he mused to himself. “I’ve never seen a human look so beautiful.” He said to his brothers quietly, “Feyre did.” Cassian snorted a laugh at the High Lord, “Feyre was covered in worm shit and the mating bond was there.” Rhys elbowed him in response, “Both of you stop it!” Azriel hissed at his brothers, “This is her night.” Both brothers held their hands up in surrender. He took a step forward as she approached the bottom of the stairs. His shadows raced to meet her & danced around her in a way he had never seen. “You look resplendent, my love.” He told her as she took his offered hand. “Thank you, you too,” she said, a blush across her cheeks again, two shadows broke off from their dance to soothe her cheeks. “I mean, handsome! You look very handsome tonight Azriel, not that you do not always look handsome- “Cassian’s laugh cut her off and she blushed even harder.  

“You remember my brothers, Rhysand and Cassian?” Azriel introduced. “Of course,” she smiled at the two males and dropped into a courtesy that Azriel quickly pulled her up from. “It is your night, you bow to no one tonight, my love.” He told her, “But Azriel,” she protested, “He’s a High Lord!” Azriel shook his head, “Not tonight, tonight, he’s just Rhysand, my brother.” Rhys met her eyes and nodded, “Okay,” she smiled at them both, “It’s lovely to see you both again, did you bring your wives? I would so love to see them again!” She rambled, “Nes and Feyre are here,” Cassian told her, “As is Mor and Lucien and Elain & I think Eris is here to somewhere.” Azriel tensed at the mention of Elain’s name, and she shot him a questioning look that he shrugged off. Rhysand sauntered forward before Cassian could continue to talk and offered her his arm, “Shall we?” He purred at her & with a reassuring nod from Azriel she took the High Lords arm and allowed him to escort her into her birthday ball. Azriel took a deep breath and followed, steeling himself for what he was about to do.  

Azriel watched as Rhys spun her round the dance floor, smiling at the sight of his brother and the woman that he was supposedly courting. “She looks happy.” Elain’s words pulled him from his thoughts, his shadows abandoning him completely, in favour of the human dancing with his brother. He hummed in agreement, “Will you be coming home tonight?” She asked, Azriel met her doe eyes, the expression in them begging him to go with her. “Not tonight,” he said quietly. Elain’s face faltered and then she spoke again. “Why do they do that? Your shadows I mean? They seem to adore her but yet completely disappear when I’m around, as if they hate me.” He faced her, “I don’t know, they talk to me yes, but they don’t tell me their own motives if they don’t want too.” She searched his eyes and upon finding nothing there, she said, “You should get back to her.” And with that she vanished into the crowd.  

Azriel forced a smile onto his face as he approached them and bowed to Rhysand, “Mind if I cut in?” He asked, Rhys smirked at him, enjoying Azriel’s display more than he should. Azriel took a note to give him shit for that later as Rhys passed her hand into Azriel’s ruined one. He pulled her into his chest as he began to dance to the song, he knew Feyre had ensured would play and she beamed up at him. “You’re a wonderful dancer.” She said quietly, “I just have a wonderful partner.” He replied without missing a beat as he spun her. “Azriel?” He hummed at her to continue, “Will you leave here soon?” She asked bashfully, “Why do you ask, my love?” He spun her again as the song was reaching its end, “I just, you must miss your family, and despite your smiles and efforts, this is not your home, is it? It never will feel like your home, will it?” Gods, she was setting him up perfectly for what was coming next, and she didn’t even know it. The song ended and Azriel could hear Rhysand in his head telling him it was time as he dropped to one knee in front of her. She gasped but he started talking, “My love, my wonderful little human, my home is wherever you are, I would be the luckiest male on any continent if you would do me the greatest honour of being my wife?” He asked as gently as he could, looking in her eyes the entire time and he hated himself as he watched them fill with tears. He knew all she had ever wanted was someone to sweep her off her feet and that is exactly what he had done. She sniffled, once, twice, then let out a watery laugh as she threw herself towards him. “Of course I will! Yes Azriel, I will marry you!” He stood, bringing her with him wrapped in his arms as he spun them in a circle & over her head, he watched Elain slip from the party.  

Feyre was fawning over the ring he had given her, despite it being one that came from Feyre’s own jewellery box. Azriel stood with his brothers, “She’s never going to forgive this.” He told them both. Rhysand raised an eyebrow at him, “Which beautiful lady are we talking about?” Azriel sighed, “Y/N.” He said, “Elain knew what was coming tonight, but we need to find her, I saw her leave.” Cassian put a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, “Go, we can keep Y/N busy while you find her.” Azriel smiled gratefully at his brother as Rhysand called Eris over. “Congratulations, Shadowsinger.” The newly crowned High Lord of Autumn crooned, “Not that you deserve her, I see right through this plan, Rhysand, so what do you need me for, I wonder?” Eris had always been too smart for his own good. Azriel was sure Eris was where Lucien got it from. “Right now,” Rhysand gritted out, “I need you to dance with her, keep her busy for a little while.” Eris nodded once, “I can do that, but for the record, I am against using a woman like this, especially one so young and clearly smitten, she's innocent and she doesn’t deserve to have her feelings played with like this.” Rhys nodded back, “Noted.”  

“I still find it hard to believe he wants me, boring human me!” You gushed to Feyre who beamed at you, “Why wouldn’t he?” She laughed. “Why wouldn’t he indeed?” A voice crooned from behind you, and you turned and then let out a squeak, dropping into a courtesy, “High Lord, how lovely to see you again!” He smiled and pulled a small, wrapped box out of his pocket, “Happy Birthday, Y/N.” He said, taking your hand and placing the box in it. “Thank you, High Lord, it is very kind of you to get me a gift when your presence here is honour enough.” He smiled gently, “It’s just Eris, and it is me who is honoured to be able to share in not only your birthday celebration, but it would seem your engagement as well, now open your present and honour me with a dance?” You giggled and opened the parcel and, in the box, sat a beautiful silver necklace with a teardrop pendant hanging from it, the size of your thumb nail. Contained in the pendant, a singular flame.  

“I do not know if you remember your father bringing you to visit Autumn when you were a child, but I remember your visit. You were captivated by the forests, the trees, and the wildlife, so much so you wondered off one evening and I, knowing my father would blame me for you being missing, frantically came after you. When I found you, you’d been cornered by one of our nastier creatures and in my panic I sent my flames straight towards it, well that was it, you weren’t phased by nearly being eaten by a monster, you just wanted to know more about my fire so I sat in that clearing with you and I showed you and I told you-,” you cut him off “Even the smallest flame can start a blaze.” Eris smiled and nodded, and then you gasped. “Is this? Is this one of your flames?” He nodded again, “To keep you safe and to guide your way if you’re ever lost in the darkness.” You grinned at him, “Thank you, Eris, this is the most thoughtful and wonderful gift I’ve ever been given!” He snorted a laugh, “Remind me to rub it in the Shadowsingers face that he proposed but my gift was still better. You rolled your eyes at him, “Would you like to dance?” he almost purred, “I would love to!” You grinned and allowed him to sweep you into a dance.  

Eris was the best dance partner you had ever had. He was graceful and accurate in his movements as he guided you around the floor. You couldn’t help the smile that was spread across your face as he span and dipped you. His gentle laughter filling your ears. “Do you all move so gracefully?” You asked as he span you back into his chest, he grinned, “I’m 538, I've had years to practice.” He said and your smile fell a little, “I, I don’t have that kind of lifespan, I’ll be lucky to see 100. Why would he put himself through that?” You asked quietly, thinking about how many of your lifetimes Azriel had already lived. Eris’s thumb came up and soothed the frown in your brow. “Because you’re the most captivating little human I’ve ever met, he is an incredibly lucky bastard to get to call you, his wife. If I was him, I’d be honoured to spend whatever time we had together.” Your face softened, “Really?” He smiled again, “I’m positively green with jealousy.” His words poured over you like honey, smooth and sweet and you snorted a laugh quietly. “I think I need a drink.” You told him and Eris nodded, leading you from the dance floor, “I’ll be right back with that drink.” He said and you nodded your thanks at him, looking around the room for your fiancé who was nowhere to be seen.  

You did however see Feyre and Rhysand having some kind of discussion in the corner, Rhys’ nod towards the door was enough to tell you where Azriel had gone. He had left the party and you moved across the room to go and check on him, you knew these events were loud and often overwhelming for not only him but his shadows as well. You slipped out of the room unseen. You wandered down hallways a love drunk smile on your face. You weren't sure how a plain human such as yourself had caught the eye of the elusive Shadowsinger but you had, and you wouldn’t ever take it for granted. A singular little shadow raced towards you, you smiled at it, raising your hand so it could dance between your fingers as you had learned they liked to do. It danced through your fingers happily for a moment or two before racing down the hallway again and waiting for you at the end. You laughed quietly to yourself, never understanding how anyone could ever fear the shadows that had never been anything but playful towards you. You caught up with it, allowing it to hide itself on your shoulder, tangled in your hair and you continued to walk, it seemed your little friend had been sent to bring you somewhere and you grinned at Azriel’s thoughtfulness.  

You turned a final corner, your grin making your cheeks ache and then your world imploded. Azriel had his back to you, his wings splayed out behind him, but you spotted the arms around his neck and the legs wrapped around his waist, feet locked at the base of his wings. The shoes that were discarded behind him you recognised, you had been gushing to their owner earlier about how beautiful they were, and they had promised to send you a pair as a birthday gift. “I love you.” He was murmering between kisses as you watched, frozen in place, his hips moving in lazy thrusts. “I love you so much, Elain.” She was clawing at his back; one had moving up and down the apex of his left wing as he shuddered. A majority of his shadows were nowhere to be seen, a handful had remained and were hissing at the one hidden in your hair, that lone little shadow had picked you to be loyal to rather than its master. Tears spilled out of your eyes just as a hand wrapped over your mouth and another around your stomach and pulled you backwards into a warm solid chest. Darkness filled the hallway, and those hands span you and pressed you into the wall, their chest pressing into your back.  

“Azriel!” Rhsyand growled and you watched as High Lord pulled his brother away from Elain. “Right yourself!” Nesta hissed at her sister. It was Eris who had you pressed against the wall, and he gently pulled you away from it but didn’t move more than a step away from you. Wildfire danced in his eyes as he stared at the Shadowsinger with contempt. You took a deep breath and turned to face what was behind you. “Y/N,” Azriel said quietly, taking a step towards you and you took a step backwards, as did Eris in turn. “No.” You said your voice not as strong as you wanted it to be. The pendant warmed on your clavicle. “I’m here. I’ve got you.” It seemed to say. “Why?” Was all you asked. Azriel looked to Rhysand, the two of them having a silent conversation. “Out loud.” Eris ground out. “The lady has been hurt enough don’t you think?” Rhysand levelled him with a look before he began to speak. “We received word, your father has a plot, one that endangers our people, not just those of the Night Court but all Courts, I know this is hard to believe for you, but your father, he’s-” You cut him off. “You think I don’t know what kind of man my father is?!” You hissed and Rhys continued talking, explaining your fathers plot. Your stomach turned and the tears continued to fall. You couldn't hear much over the thumping of your crumbling heart. “Was any of it true?” You asked Azriel, interrupting Rhys again. He shook his head, “I’m so sorry, I-” You didn’t hear the rest of his sentence as you turned and ran. “Why didn’t you stop her?!” Rhys snapped at who you assumed was Eris. “I told you; I don’t stand for using innocents like this.” He said coldly, absentmindedly pressing a hand to his chest to alleviate the tightness that had appeared there in the last few moments.  

You ran, and ran, and ran. You had headed straight for the lawns and the forest beyond. Your shoes had been lost long ago but you barely registered your bleeding feet or the forest floor that was cutting into them. Your head was spinning, none of it was real. Azriel had played you and played you well. You didn’t see it coming, just like you didn’t see the slope before you plunged down it. Branches and thorns scraped at your body and face as you tumbled. All air hit your lungs as you collided with an ancient oak tree, your teeth rattling as you came to a stop and your vision blurred. It was only then you realised how cold it was and how hurt you were, your ankle sitting at an awkward angle. Whimpering as you tried to stand you realised the gravity of the situation you were in but still, compared to going back to the Manor you were more than content to sit there and grieve your short-lived engagement. You weren’t sure how long you had sat against that tree, staring at the beautiful ring Azriel had given you, the ring that rightly belonged to Elain you supposed.  

You couldn’t pinpoint when you fell asleep, but you’d never forget waking up. Surrounded by men. Swallowing thickly you took them in, all much bigger than you and staring down at you like you were prey. “Ello darling, nice sleep?” The ringleader questioned. You didn’t answer him. “He asked you a question.” His second in command sneered. “I fell.” Was all you said. “You fell?” The third laughed, “Figured with your pretty dress you’d be at the party.” The leader spoke again. “Thank them for checking on you and leave.” You gasped at Eris’ voice filled your head. The three men studied you in turn. “I was, I should be getting back, thank you for checking on me.” You said, much stronger than you felt. “What’s the hurry?” The third asked. “Seems like a boring political party if you ask me.” The second added on. You tried to push to your feet and winced at the pain that shot through your ankle. “Hurt yourself?” The leader smirked. “Break the necklace.” Eris’ voice again, “I just twisted my ankle, I’m fine.” You said, “Y/N!” Eris was beginning to get louder in your head. The leader smirked at his companions, stepping towards you. “What are you holding there?” He asked, you hadn't realised that you were subconsciously holding the necklace Eris had given you. “Tell them it’s nothing, just a silly heirloom.” Eris sounded panicked now. “Just a silly little heirloom.” You rushed out. “Let me see?” He said, it wasn’t really a question. He knocked your hand out of the way and pulled the necklace from your neck. Eris growled in your head as you flinched. The leader observed the necklace with distain and launched it towards the trunk of a nearby tree where the pendant shattered, the small flame igniting from it. The men paid it no mind.  

The leader stepped towards you and you whimpered as you retreated a step. “I need you to fight.” Eris spoke clearly. “Scratch, bite, kick, just fight Y/N.” Eris told you, but you had already made a mistake, you were pinned. The leader's hands pawed at you. “Please, don’t.” You begged, he just laughed. Ripping the bodice of your dress as his companions closed in. “Such a pretty little thing, out here all alone.” The second crooned, “Lucky for us.” The third added. “What makes you think she’s alone?” Eris’ voice filled the tree, the leaves rustling around. “I suggest you back away and unhand the lady before I kill you where you stand.” He said, his voice full of authority. The leader shoved you backwards as he turned. “You’re just one man.” He sneered at Eris, who laughed. “I’m no man.” He said, you could see nothing but the wildfire in his eyes shining in the darkness as he stepped out of the trees. “I’m a male and you do not want to fight me. I’m trying to do you a favour, one that you do not deserve but I don’t want to frighten the lady.” The leader nodded to his companions, who drew their swords. “She was asking for someone to find her.” The leader scoffed. “Out here all alone, dressed like that.” Eris seemed to grow taller at his words. “No female ever asks for a male like you to touch her against her will.” He growled. “Where I’m from you’d lose a hand or worse for that. Leave or you will die.” The leader drew his sword and his companions advanced on Eris. “Death it is then.” Eris said with a humourless laugh. He wasted no time; he didn’t even engage them in sword play. He simply winnowed behind each one and slit their throats before wiping his dagger on the leader's trousers and sheathed it on this thigh. 

“Are you okay?” He asked coming towards you slowly as to not scare you. “My necklace.” You said sadly, “They broke my beautiful necklace.” He smiled at you soft, “Don’t worry about the necklace. I’ll get you another one.” He said, his tone gentle as he removed his jacket and wrapped it around you to cover where they had ripped your dress. You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed. “But the little flame-” He cut you off, “Will be more than happy to go back into a pendant around your throat.” He said, showing you the little flame dancing through his fingers. You smiled at it sadly. “I’m sorry you got thrown at a tree.” You told it quietly and without Eris commanding the little flame to or before he could even stop it, the flame had jumped from his fingers and was gently brushing against your cheek. It wasn’t hot, nor did it burn, it was warm, comforting even and it removed the sadness from your smile. “Can you walk?” He asked and you shook your head no. “Okay, I’m going to carry you, is that alright?” He asked “Yes,” you said quietly. “That’s okay.” He swept you up into his arms and began walking back to the Manor. “I don’t want to face him, I’m so embarrassed, I was such a fool.” You told Eris. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” He told you. “If he says anything to you or even so much as approaches you, I’ll turn him to ash.” You giggled at his words. “I don’t want to stay here, not with my father.” You admitted, the first time you had said such words to anyone. “Then we’ll see about you coming to Autumn with me.” He said and you gasped quietly, “Really?” He nodded, “If it is where you want to go, then yes, I will take you back with me.” You curled further into his chest. “I would very much like to come with you.” You muttered, his natural heat making you sleepy. “Then it shall be done, but let's get your ankle looked at and healed first.”  

[profound-imagination]

EXCUSE ME?!

@thatlosernoonelikes

Fantastic Lucien made by lovely @anastina_91 

Lucien nation wake up!

I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR HIM SO LONG!!!!

Her inst: @anastina_91

I am still in love with her Elucien and Lucien arts! This is another masterpiece that made my day.

Look at his face! What an emotion!

[profound-imagination]

Rhys: While I'm gone, Feyre, you're in charge.

Feyre: Yes!!

Rhys, whispering: Azriel, you're secretly in charge.

Azriel: Obviously.

[profound-imagination]

Azriel

[profound-imagination]

The idea of dragons in modern times is so fun because imagine a hot summer day on your vacay and go to use the hotel pool and staff is like "valued guests we regret to inform you that the pool area is out of service at the moment, we apologize for the inconvenience"

And people like "wtf why" looking out their hotel room window and there's this. This dragon just curled up in the pool chilling, literally, cooling itself down

Some of the staff are trying to gently shoo him away and the dragon does a soft little "rrrrrr" like a grumpy cat and a warning puff of smoke and they're like "fuck it i don't get paid nearly enough for this" and no ones using the pool today sorry!

[profound-imagination]

Flightless (Reimagined) - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N - Okay so this is a rewritten version of this fic - I really hope you enjoy.

T/W: Very brief mention of S/A it isn't talked about in detail, the R word isn't used but please keep yourselves safe and don't read if at all triggering for you. Talks of violence.

W/C: 7.7K

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a deep breath, steeled yourself against the biting cold, and approached one of the most terrifying males you knew. You wanted to do this, wanted to learn. "Excuse me, Lord Devlon?" He took his sweet time before he looked at you, before he acknowledged you. "What is it, girl?" He asked, no malice in his voice, but it wasn't kind either. "I was wondering if it would be acceptable for me to join training with the other girls in the mornings?" The two warriors next to him snorted, the third sneered, "What use would you be, girl? Your wings weren't even clipped, I don’t think there's a word for what happened to your wings, your missing half of one and the other is bent all wrong." A shudder ran through you at the memory, the agony, the heartbreak of never being able to feel the wind again, of never being able to answer its call again. 

Devlon paled slightly as he looked past you and snapped at the three warriors with him to get back to work, the third still sneering at you as he went. "I survived sir." You told Devlon quietly, "I survived what happened to me, I'm strong enough to train like an Illyrian." He ran a hand down his face, and you felt someone approach behind you, you did not turn but your spin straightened, and your broken wings flared as best as they could. "You'll get yourself killed, you'll be thrown into the Rite, just like the others. Besides, we start training as children, your age is against you." You looked up at him and met his eyes, "I can do this sir, please, let me try." He opened his mouth to reply but another voice came from behind you. "Why do you want to train so badly?" You turned slowly only to be met by the Lord of Bloodshed himself. The General of the Night Court stood tall, proud, and strong. The wind was whipping the lose pieces of his hair around his face. Seven ruby red siphons glinted in the sun. You had never seen him up close, but from here you almost crumbled under how powerful he clearly was.  

"I was held down as they mutilated my wings, my Lord. I was helpless, I couldn’t defend myself, I didn’t know how to." You could have sworn the air thickened, and the sky darkened as the Shadowsinger and the High Lord himself approached. "Who took your wings?” Cassian growled, glaring at Devlon as he did. “Well, it didn’t happen here!” Devlon snapped at the General who bared his teeth in response. These two clearly were not friends. “It happened at the Ironcrest Camp.” You told him quickly, your nerves fraying due to looks being exchanged between the two males you currently stood between, the last thing you wanted was to be caught between two fighting Illyrians. “This camp has been good to me.” You continued. “Devlon.” The High Lord greeted, “Rhysand.” Devlon gritted back. “Why won’t you train the girl?” Rhysand asked and Devlon gestured towards you, “Look at her, she’s in no shape to train, to fight. She wouldn’t last an hour in the Rite.” Rhysand studied you, “What happened to your wings?” He asked, his star flecked eyes meeting your own. “This isn’t a traditional clipping.” He said and you shuddered against the memory. “Let me see.” He said as you felt his power caressing your mind and then there, he was, in the middle of that night with you.  

Ironcrest was cold. Colder than Windhaven. There was a reason it was known as the cruellest camp, and it wasn’t just the biting weather that gave it that reputation. You were making your way back to your decrepit tent after clearing up after dinner. The males, as usual had eaten more than their share, your own you had split between the few daughters of the camp. Those who were discarded as soon as they were born. Urchins the males referred to them as. Stomach cramping with hunger you prayed to the Mother you wouldn’t run into Malakai, the Lord's son, the Male with the cruellest reputation, one that was well earned. You felt a flinch on the edge of the memory, and you knew it was the High Lord sensing your fear as you continued to walk through the dark. You had seen Malakai at dinner, drinking heavily and you knew that would do nothing to improve the perpetual sense of rage he seemed to live in. He, for some reason, had taken a shine to you and not in a good or kind way. You could see your tent in the distance, so so close, when all of a sudden, a hand wrapped around your mouth, trapping any sound, another arm around your waist, trapping your already weak wings from the lack of flying, females were not to be seen in the sky here, most of which had already been clipped. Everything went black before you could react. When you woke, three males surrounded you, Malakai and his two, equally sadistic friends. They were a band of brothers, much like the High Lord, the General and the Shadowsinger. You weren’t sure why you thought about them in that moment, maybe because they’d be the only ones to save you, but they wouldn’t come and why would they? You felt Rhysand flinch again at the thought.  

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Malakai crooned at you, you didn’t look at him, you kept your gaze downcast. A good, submissive female. “You’ve been struting around here unchecked for too long.” He said, “I made it quite clear that you were to be mine and seeing as you won’t submit on your own, I’ll take what is rightfully mine.” Fear shot through your entire being and your body went numb as his friends held you face down in the dirt. You couldn’t fight, couldn’t move due to their weight. Laying there helpless you cried as Malakai hacked at your wings. Not at the base as you had expected, as you had witnessed in previous clippings while on your knees, holding the unfortunate females hands, promising her everything would be okay. There was no one to do that for you as you felt your left wing tear, as you felt the right one break. No one to tell you it was going to be okay as he forced himself on you as his friends laughed while you were bleeding out in the snow. You weren’t sure how long you cried in the snow, naked, cold, broken, it could’ve been hours before the daughters you looked after came looking, before they dragged you as best they could back to your tent and sat with you. You weren’t sure if the Mother herself was watching over you because even though part of you died that night, you were still alive come daybreak.  

“Enough! Rhys, enough!” A voice like night personified spoke, close to your ear. You felt the cold seeping into your tattered dress as Rhysand retreated from your mind. There was a warmth at your back you noticed as you looked at the High Lord’s face and saw nothing but rage there. “Are you okay?” The same voice asked you, “It can be unsettling the first time he does that.” It continued, you craned your neck and saw the Shadowsinger, looking down at you and you came to the mortifying realisation that you were in his embrace, on the floor. You scrambled away from him, “I’m sorry my Lord, I’m so sorry!” You rushed out. The General let out a laugh and pulled you from the ground gently, setting you back on your feet and making sure you were steady before he stepped away. “She trains.” Rhysand spoke, authority coating his words, daring Devlon to argue with him. “If she wishes to train, to learn how to defend herself, she trains.” He said. Devlon was silent for a long moment. “With me.” It was not Devlon who had spoken but the Shadowsinger. “She trains with me, personally.” He wasn’t telling Devlon, nor was he asking permission, he was telling the High Lord that training you was going to be his task, and his alone. The two of them seemed to have some kind of silent argument if the tick in the Spymasters jaw was anything to go by before Rhysand finally said, “So be it Az, she trains with you.” You couldn’t fight the small smile that graced your lips, even if your cheeks were burning with embarrassment from having been in his lap only moments ago. “Thank you, Shadowsinger.” You said quietly. He didn’t smile, he just nodded. “Azriel, my name is Azriel.”  

As instructed you were outside one of the only shops in Windhaven at daybreak. The door clicked open, and a female slipped out. “Oh, you must be Y/N.” She smiled gently. You returned her smile, “Yes, are you Emerie?” She nodded in confirmation that she was indeed Emerie. She looked you up and down and you didn’t miss her eyes snagging on the half of a wing hanging from your left side. “So, you’re Azriel’s new project.” She mused. “His new project?” You asked, “He’s just training me?” You said. “He’s a wonderful male, kind, gentle, but he’s dangerous and he’s easy to fall for.” She warned, “Have you?” You asked, “Fallen for him?” You clarified and she laughed, “Me? No, I prefer the company of females.” She told you with a smirk. Oh, oh. “I have no plans to fall for him, I just want to learn.” You told her and she smiled gently again, “Just be careful.” was all she said as the most beautiful female you had ever seen appeared and gave Emerie a dazzling smile. She bounced up to you, “Hi, I’m Mor!” He voice was like windchimes. “Hello, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, “Ready to learn how to kick these males asses?” She grinned and offered you a hand as you nodded.  

Winnowing was a strange sensation, it felt like falling and staying still all at once and then you really were falling. The air left your lungs as you collided with something and then you were flying. “Welcome to Velaris.” You opened your eyes to see the High Lord and you were flying. A grin split across your face; it had almost been a year since you had last flown and the wind felt incredible against your skin. Rhysand smiled down at you as he did a couple of loops of the house below while you grinned before he eventually landed. You finally took in the view of the city he had called Velaris. “It’s beautiful here,” you breathed. “You should see it at Starfall.” A female spoke from behind you. Turning to face the voice you saw the High Lord with his arms around a beautiful female and you knew exactly who she was. You dropped into a courtesy, “High Lady,” you greeted. She smiled warmly, “Just Feyre is fine.” She told you, taking your hand and helping you straighten and regain your balance, the wind causing your wings to knock you off kilter. “Is that what you are training in?” She asked, referring to your tattered dress and your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “It’s all I have.” You admitted and she frowned at her husband. “It’s fine, really!” You insisted and she didn’t argue with you.  

“Are you ready?” Azriel’s voice sent chills down your spine. You took a deep breath and turned to face him. “I am.” You told him. “We’re training a level up.” He told you, “This place goes higher?” You gasped, “It does, all that’s up there is a training ring, slightly smaller than this one, Cassian will be training Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn down here.” You nodded at him, “Once you're caught up you are welcome to join them, Nesta has already extended the invitation.” You smiled, that was incredibly kind of her, you had never been included before. In anything. “Let’s go.” He said, walking towards the door leading into the house. The interior took your breath away. You had never seen the outside of the camps before and you couldn’t comprehend how grand this house was. “Do you live here?” You gasped, freezing in place and taking in the parlour room. Azriel turned upon hearing your footsteps hault. Due to your half a wing your steps had a telltale uneven sound to them. He allowed a rare turn up of his lips at the sight of wonder on your face. “Yes, with Cassian and Nesta.” You didn’t acknowledge his words, still taking in the rich wallpaper, the plus sofas and chairs. “I’m not here much though, I’m often away for work but whenever I’m in the city this is where I reside.” He continued, that seemed to pull you back to him, “Oh, am I keeping you from that?” You asked gently, concern coating your eyes, “I can train at the camps, honestly, its fine.” You rushed out. Azriel shook his head, “You aren’t keeping me from anything.” He inclined his head towards the door and you followed next to him, running your hand along the back of the sofa, “I’ve never felt something so soft!” You exclaimed; an amused raise of his brows was all he gave you in return. You struggled up the stairs, your wings leaving your gait uneven, stairs was something you hadn’t faced in a long time, and it seemed you could no longer go up them very well. Azriel didn’t push or hurry you like you expected, he merely kept a step behind you to catch you if you fell. You were exhausted by the time you’d reached the training ring but more than determined to prove yourself. 

Training that day was brutal. Not because you got hurt, in fact, Azriel didn’t touch you once, didn’t once enter your personal space. He had started you off with footwork. It was much harder than you thought simple footwork would be, but your uneven wings made life difficult as did the shadows that constantly danced around you, but you loved your new little friends and he couldn’t seem to call them back no matter how much he told them to leave you alone and find something useful to be doing, apparently they thought nothing was more useful than being around you. He never once lost his patience, he let you work through it. Let you pull yourself from the ground time after time with nothing but gentle encouragement. “Good,” he said at midday, “You did well today, we’ll do the same again tomorrow.” Sweat was pouring off of you by the time he was guiding you through a cool down. “How did it go?” Rhysand asked, appearing on the roof with the pair of you while you were lying on your back, fighting for your life trying to catch your breath. “It went well.” Azriel told him as you just stuck your arm in the air showing him a thumbs up. Rhysand just laughed at you. “Y/N, I have asked our healer, Madja, to take a look at your wings, just to make sure, if you’ll allow it?” He asked, your sat up, crossing your legs and looked at him, “Make sure of what? They can’t be fixed? Half of one is probably still in that field in Ironcrest.” You told him, “I know they can’t, but I’d like to know if they are causing you pain and if we can do anything about that.” He said a kind smile graced his face and you found yourself nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Azriel said shortly, his attitude suddenly switched, and storms seemed to be brewing in his eyes. “Okay.” You mumbled quietly, slightly scared of the person he now seemed to be. “Azriel.” Rhysand growled, “You are to leave it alone, do you understand?” He commanded, pure High Lord. Azriel levelled him with a look, nodded once and took to the skies.  

Azriel:  

“Half of one is probably still in that field in Ironcrest.” Azriel wasn’t sure why the words had gutted him like they had or why they were playing over and over in his head. He knew something tragic had happened to her, something unforgivable, Rhys hadn’t shared with him or Cassian what he had seen in her mind yesterday, but it had taken all afternoon, several glasses of whiskey and Feyre perched on his lap before his brother had calmed. All he knew was that when she uttered those words a rage like he hadn’t felt for a long time consumed him. He was to leave it alone. That was an order from his High Lord, not his friend, not his brother, his High Lord. So alone he would leave it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t investigate, Rhysand hadn’t said anything about investigating. So, naturally, he flew to Ironcrest. He kept quiet and out of sight of the main camp and sent his ever-helpful friends to investigate. He didn’t fail to notice the littlest one, the one that usually stuck to him like glue, rambling in his ear like an excited child, the one that hadn’t left her side all morning was the first to dart away at his command.  

It didn't take long before he heard a howl on the wind, they had found something. The remaining shadows engulfed him like a swarm. When they cleared again, he was in a small clearing. It was the little shadow howling for him and upon his arrival it came shooting towards him. "Look! Look! See, Master! See what they did!” It was frantically whispering at him. “Show me.” He answered it aloud and followed its lead. The smell of blood hit him first. Something that didn’t make sense, but he knew on instinct it was hers. Her injuries weren’t recent, not recent enough for the blood to linger, not with the weather up here anyway but it was as if her blood had permeated the earth and his wings unfurled with the anger that once again hit him like a tidal wave. He spotted it then, lying in the grass, half of a wing. Just like she said. The cuts were crude, as if the instrument used was too blunt for the cartilage of the wing. He knew, from his experiance in breaking people, that once they had sawed through the bone, they had torn through the skin with their bare hands, like one would with paper. Even as someone who inflicted pain for a living, he couldn’t imagine. His knees gave out without his permission, and he vomited. “Kill them! Make them suffer! Kill them all!” The little shadow was hissing as it darted around his head. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he forced himself to his feet. “I will little one, I will.” He told it, “I’ll help!” It insisted, “You’ll all help when the time is right, for now, some of you stay here, find out who did this to her, keep me informed.” He addressed all of his shadows, the sneakier of which took their leave at his command. The little one floating by his ear like an unofficial second in command.  

Y/N: 

As predicted, there was nothing Madja could do for your wings, other than keep you comfortable with them. Which Rhysand insisted she do despite your protest that they had already done far too much for you by allowing you to train. You left of course, with ointments, tinctures, and vials for your wings. You arrived at training the next morning, aching but determined as ever. “Go on up!” Nesta told you with a smile and you give her your best smile right back. Gritting your teeth you pulled yourself up the stairs to the second training ring. Azriel wasn’t there when you arrived so you wandered over to the edge of the ring, bending at the waist to feel the wind over the wall. Your right wing, the broken one tried hard to unfurl and feel the wind but shattering pain lanced through you and it quickly stopped its movement. You stood there, a small smile on your face, hair whipping around you. “I like it up here, I can feel the wind again, I can hear its song.” You told Azriel who looked downright shocked you knew he was there as he emerged from his shadows. You let out a small laugh and put your hair behind your ear, “This little one gave you away.” You told him, showing you the little shadow curled around your ear like it belonged there. Azriel glared at it and it dived into your hair. “Don’t be mean to my new friend!” You scolded him and half of his lip twitched up into a smile. He came and leant against the wall next to you, taking great care not to knock your wings, Rhysand must’ve told him about the exposed bone and nerve on the left one that you wouldn’t even let Madja touch. “It must be nice to live somewhere like this, up in the wind.” You told him, “Do you miss it?” He asked, and you looked at him to find him already watching you, “Of course I do, but this is as close as I’ll ever get now.” You told him with a shrug. “Shall we start?” You asked. “Not yet, let’s enjoy the wind a bit longer first.” He said. From that day on, the first 45 minuets of training, Azriel dedicated to sitting on the wall, enjoying the wind. Slowly and surely, the Shadowsinger started talking to you more and more.  

Azriel:  

Six months later Azriel had found himself looking forward to morning training. It was no longer a motion to go through. He found he enjoyed Y/N’s quiet company. Enjoyed that she had never once been scared to call him out on his shit. It was her that had finally gotten through to him about Elain. He was repeating old patterns, and he knew that now. “You’re worth more than you think, Azriel. You deserve real and true love, mate or not. But this thing you have with Elain, this isn’t it. You know it isn’t. She’s using you and you know it, deep down you know it.” She had told him three days ago. He was furious. How dare she think such a thing about Elain about him? All he had tried to do is help her! He hadn’t shown up for training the last two days, but he knew from Cassian that she had and stubbornly carried on without him. Today, he was swallowing his pride and apologising for his actions. He had reacted badly at the time and she had flinched, she had been scared of him in that moment and it made him sick. He knew she knew he would never lift a hand to her in such a way, but she had still flinched, and he would not forgive himself for it, for the scent of fear that filled the air as he walked away from her in the middle of a session.  

When he made it to the training ring, she wasn’t there. So he waited, five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen. Emerie came bursting onto the roof, Mor on her heels, Cassian, Nesta and Gwyn behind them. “She never turned up this morning!” Emerie told him in one breath. “Mor and I went to her tent but she wasn't there either!” He met Cassians gaze and saw the worry there, the tick in his brothers jaw. Cassian ran these camps as best he could but even Cassian wasn’t enough to corral the old ways and he could read it on the General’s face that he was worried about what they would find. “Find Rhysand, meet me there.” Was all he said to Cassian before launching to the skies.  

Azriel wasted no time in heading straight for Devlon when he landed, his shadows skittering in all directions in their own search. The littlest one that she had become so fond of stuck with him, wailing in his ear. The commander met him halfway. “I know why you are here, Singer.” He said, “None of us had anything to do with it, we don’t know where she is, just that she’s gone.” “Truth, truth, truth.” The little shadow wailed in his ear. Azriel nodded once, “You and everyone here is to stay here, in the centre of camp and out of my way.” He said, his voice promising a cold death if they disregarded his order. Devlon nodded once and Azriel strode away. “Not here, not here, not here!” the little shadow repeated over and over again. “I know!” He growled at it, “Unless you know where she is, be quiet!” The shadow darted from his ear, up into his hair where it hid. He took to the skies again, circling the camp and the surrounding areas in slightly largest circles each time when Rhys and Cassian arrived. Rhysand took over sorting out a plan of action as the urgency and panic was starting to eat away at Azriel. He didn’t understand what was going on but the Spymaster almost suffocating with the frantic anxiety that was crawling up his throat and constricting his chest. His brothers shared a knowing look but did not enlighten him. He didn’t care. If it wasn’t her location, he wasn’t interested. The little shadow slid down his face, to its place curled round his ear and began to whisper once more. “Taken, hurt, taken, hurt.” “Where?!” He demanded and a swarm of shadows engulfed him, taking him to where they had found her.  

Azriel almost vomited again when he saw her, lying broken in the grass, in the exact spot where she had been broken a year prior. “Find out why she was at Ironcrest!” He snapped at a group of shadows that quickly departed. y she’s in Ironcrest!” He snapped at a group of nearby shadows. Whether she came here of her own free will or was taken against it, the outcome was going to be the same. The torture master of the Night Court was coming out to play and they were going to suffer. People were going to die and this camp would be red by the time he was done. Her favourite little shadow was already racing towards her. Azriel had never heard a shadow scream before, and it was haunting. A sound he would never forget for as long as he lived. He would wake from nightmares to that sound, just like he did to the sound of the flesh on his hands sizzling when he was a child. There was no way to describe the state of her already broken wings, or the amount of blood she was covered in. “Help her! Master! Help her!” The little shadow was screaming at him as he fell to his kness beside her, checking her breath. She was still breathing, that was a start. He heard Rhys and Cassian land behind him. “Not again.” He heard Rhys mumble and he whirled on his brother, “What. Do. You. Mean. Again?” He demanded, Cassian was the one who spoke, “Not now, she needs us!”  

Azriel turned back to the beautiful broken female lying in the grass. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” He asked, her eyes flew open, unfocused, and wild. Unsure of who was in front of her she went to move away and defend herself when she screamed. He assumed due to the pain she was currently in. “Y/N, it’s me!” Her eyes focused for a second and softened upon seeing him, she croaked his name, and a snap took place deep within his chest at the sound of his name and all of his instincts got stronger, harder to fight and he knew exactly what had happened. “There it is.” Cassian said to Rhys quietly who nodded back at the General. She went limp again. She would’ve hit the ground if not for Cassian catching her, placing her gently back down, from the seated position she was in. “No, no, no, baby, stay with me!” Azriel said desperately reaching for her. “Rhysand, help me!” He begged his High Lord, “Madja is the only one who can help her now, we need to move.” Rhys told him, Azriel stood, cradling her in his arms. Shadows were racing towards him from the trees. He handed her to Rhys as gently as possible. “You can winnow faster than my shadows. Take her.” Rhys nodded and was gone.  

“In the trees, in the trees.” The shadows told him upon reaching him. He and Cassian followed, both males freezing upon finding a young girl, no older than 4, crying softly under a tree. Cassian made himself as small as possible when he realised Azriel was in no state to deal with this and met the little ones eyes, “What are you doing out here all by yourself little lady?” He asked with a gentle smile at the girl. “Are you going to hurt her?” The girl asked, baring her little teeth at Cassian, Azriel would have laughed if he had it in him. “No, we’re her friends.” Cassian told her softly, “She helped me.” She croaked, “They tried to take my wings.” Azriel ground his teeth so hard he thought they’d break. “Are you hurt?” Cassian asked and she shook her head no, “Just a little cut.” She said, expanding her tiny wing so show them a graze. “Where’s your mother? Your father?” her bottom lip wobbled at the question, “Dead.” She said as another fat tear rolled down her cheek. She crawled towards them, completely by-passing Cassian and holding her little arms up to Azriel. He complied, picking up the girl and resting her on his hip. “Please don’t take me back. I want to go with her.” She begged, placing her little hands on either side of his face. Azriel and Cassian had a silent conversation between them. There was no question, the girl would come with them, they would find her a good home. She'd never come back to the camps. “You don’t have to go back,” Azriel said as calmly as he could manage, “But you need to go with Cassian now, okay?” She studied him some more, “Are you coming too?” She asked, why this girl had picked him to trust he didn’t know, especially now, with shadows pouring out of him and death radiating out of his pores. Azriel nodded at her, “Yes Little One, I’m coming too, but I have to go to the camp first.” She nodded at him and let Azriel hand her to Cassian, “Ready to fly little lady?” He asked her with a grin, “I can’t fly yet. Don't know how.” She told him, Cassian ruffled her hair, “That’s okay, I’ll fly us.” He said. Azriel was already walking away, “Where are you going?” Cassian called after him, Azriel didn’t stop moving as he said. “To work.”  

Rhys was waiting for him on the edge of the camp. Fucking Cassian. “Do not try and stop me, Rhysand.” Azriel warned and Rhys held his hands up in mock surrender. “Stop you?” He asked, “I’m here to help you.” That stoppped Azriel in his tracks. “To hurt an innocent like they hurt her is one thing, to be handled diplomatically as they see no issue with their ways, ways that I am trying to outlaw.” He said, “To hurt my brothers mate? That is another and for that, they will pay.” Azriel almost smiled. “You knew?” He asked, “I had my suspicions,” Rhys told him, “But I didn’t know for sure, not until today.” Rhys’ eyes glazed over for a second. “Cassian is on his way.” Azriel didn’t get time to ask his question before Rhys carried on talking. “The girl is fine, she's with Mor, she met Cassian halfway, she doesn’t know her own name though, so you’ll have to think of one for her.” Rhys told him, “Me?” Azriel asked, “Shall we start calling you Daddy Az now?” Cassian asked as he landed beside them. Azriel shoved an elbow into his ribs. “What?! Cassian asked, “She was asking for you and Y/N the whole way back.” The three of them strode into the camp, their intentions clear. Illyrians began to scatter but none got far thanks to the wards Rhys had thrown up around the camp. Malakai and his friends were easy to find.  

Once the brothers had gotten their prisoners situated in that chamber far below Hewn City, Rhys and Cassian once again departed, off to tell the Lord of Ironcrest his son would not be returning, Azriel got to work. Their deaths would not be quick, would not be merciful. He would not start with their wings, oh no. That would be a day two or three job. He wouldn’t take them too early, wouldn’t let them think they had lost that what Illyrians held most dear at the start, it would take all the fight out of them and that’s what he wanted, a fight. So he’d start small, Azriel knew exactly where to cut to cause the most amount of pain with the least amount of threat to life, but they would not leave here, not alive, not whole, and certainly not through the door. When the males were groaning, bleeding and full of Fae Bane, he left them hanging by their wrists. To spend their night being tormented by the beasts below.  

“Absolutely not!” Mor said as soon as she saw him. “Go and bathe.” Azriel growled at her, the need to check on Y/N and the tiny girl they had found pressing down on him so much he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “That little girl has been through enough without you showing up looking like that and terrifying her!” Mor hissed at him pushing him down the hallway towards his own room. “They are both fine, both strong.” She told him and the weight lifted enough for him to get a breath down. “Come back when you’re clean.” She said, turning away and walking back down the corridor.  

Once clean, he returned. His bath had done nothing to heal the tension in his body. He found his family gathered in a tight circle, whispering amongst one another. “I want to see her.” He said, garnering their attention and Rhys nodded at him, gesturing towards the door. He and Cassian followed Rhys him in. Every muscle in his body froze when he saw her. “Before you lose it,” Rhys said, “What was done was for the best, for her health.” “For her health?” Azriel repeated as a question. “Yes, she already had a nasty infection setting in and-” Azriel cut him off, “Her wings are gone! Gone Rhys, completely gone!” He roared. “It was for the best Az, It really was.” Cassian piped up. “With the new damage caused and the infection setting in, she would’ve lost the ability to walk as well, Rhys and Madja made a difficult decision, but it was the right one.” Panic was crawling up his throat, “I can’t.” He choked out, “I can’t be here!” Gods he was pitiful, she deserved a better mate than him. One that would sit by her bedside until she woke, one that helped her through this, but Azriel could barely look at her. “Az!” Feyre called after him as he fled the room, “There's someone in the sitting room whose been asking for you since they arrived.” She said catching up with him and taking his elbow, steering him towards the sitting room.  

“Mama!” Nyx called out, running into Feyre’s legs as soon as he spotted her. She picked him up, placing a kiss on each of his cheeks, “Hello my love!” She greeted him warmly. “She doesn’t know how to play.” Nyx whispered quietly to his mother and Azriel didn’t miss the longing in the little girl's gaze as she watched Feyre interact with Nyx. So, he took a deep breath to steady himself and crouched down, opening his arms to her in invitation, he was going to do something right today. She hesitated, for only a moment before a brilliant grin split across her face and she ran into his arms. “How’s your wing, Little One?” He asked as he stood with her, she extended it to show him, “The lady fixed it.” She told him and began rambling on and on about the light in Madja’s hands and the tingly creams she had used. He took a seat on the sofa, the one he clearly remembered Y/N telling him was the softest thing she had ever felt. He was going to buy her 12. The little girl situated herself in his lap, still talking a mile a minute.  “They tell me you don’t know your name.” She looked up at him, her big brown eyes shining, “Never had one.” She said and his face softened, even in that cell, all those years ago he had a name. Something that belonged to him. “Why don’t we pick you one?” He asked her, so wrapped up in this child he didn’t even notice Feyre and Nyx slip out of the room. “Okay?” She agreed, sounding doubtful. “Hmm,” He mused, “What about Luna?” He asked and she screwed her nose up, “No you’re right,” He said, “Sounds like a hounds name.” She giggled at him, placing both her hands on his face again, he took a mental note to figure out why she did that. “Selena? It means the Moon?” He asked and she shook her head, “I’m not a moon! I’m a girl, silly!” He huffed out a laugh, “My mistake, Little One, Lennox?” He asked, “No!” He grinned down at her, “This is hard!” He told her and she nodded her little head in agreement. “Theodora, Theo for short?” He asked, “Does that mean moon?” She asked, “No, Little One, Theodora means Gift of God.” She pondered it for a moment, “What god?” She asked, he had no answer for that. Azriel knew in his bones that this girl was a gift of God, but it didn’t suit her. “I don’t think it suits you,” He said, “Marceline?” He asked and her face softened at the sound of it. He watched her mouth the word, testing it on her tongue. Her smile answered his question, she was Marceline, she was his Little Warrior. 

Nyx came running back into the room, “Dinner!” He announced and Azriel caught the excitement on Marceline’s little face, and he wondered when the last time she ate a proper meal had been. His family would have fed her when she arrived, but a proper dinner, he didn't know. She scrambled off of his lap, “I have a name!” She told Nyx proudly, “What is it?” Nyx asked, “Marceline!” She told him, Nyx seemed to ponder the name she had told him, “Marcie.” He said, “I’m going to call you Marcie.” She grinned at him, “Let’s go!” She said, offering her hand towards Azriel to hold on the way to dinner and he felt lighter than he had in days smiling down at the two children clasping hands at his side. He made a note to talk to Cassian after dinner about turning the rooms that they used to share into somewhere for himself and Marceline to reside seeing as Cassian moved into the main bedroom with Nesta what seemed like years ago and to ask Mor to go with him for clothes and toys for the little girl. He had thought they would find her a good home, but he knew in the very marrow of his being that there was no better home for her than here, with him and hopefully Y/N. Besides, she had a built in best friend in Nyx here.  

“See, she’s not scary!” Marceline told him days later when she had coaxed him into Y/N’s room. He sat stiffly in the chair next to her bed, Marceline perched on the bed next to her. Wishing he could switch places with her. She didn’t deserve to be lying there. Marceline had been begging him to come with her for days and he had finally relented. “She wasn’t scared at all, Azzy!” Marceline told him proudly, “She hit him real good until the second and third one turned up.” Azriel knew she had. He’d seen the bruises on Malakai’s face himself. “I want to learn how to fight like her!” She continued, “Nyxie says when we’re old enough we can train together but I told him we’re not going to the camps to train.” She rambled on, “He said his Daddy went to camp, with you and Cassie?” She asked, “We did, Little One, that’s where we met.” He told her, “So, Nyxie is going to be High Lord, I’ll be whatever you are and we need a Cassie!” She said and his blood ran cold at the idea of this sweet little girl being anything like him. “Nyx will be High Lord,” He agreed, “But you, you Little One, you can be whatever you want to be.” He told her, “But what if I want to be like you? A hero? Brave?” She asked him, “My Little One, you already are those things.” He told her. Movement in his peripheral vision snagged his attention. After three long days, she was waking up, “Marceline, can you go and find the others for me please?” He asked, she nodded happily, jumping off of the bed and gliding towards the floor, her little legs already running before he feet touched the wooden floorboards, “Be careful!” He called after her. Unlike the little shadow that had chosen Y/N and that had not left her side since he had found her, the one that had chosen Marceline was bigger and clung to her little wings most of the time, “Go with her, keep her safe, make sure she doesn’t run into an important meeting if Rhys is in one.” He told it. Realistically he could’ve called the others himself, but he was unsure of how Y/N was going to react, what headspace she would be in, and he needed Marceline safe and out of the way. “Keep an eye on her and Nyx, make sure they are playing.” The shadow shot off after the little girl.  

Y/N:  

You could hear Azriel. He was nearby and talking to someone, move, move move. You urged your hand and to your infinite surprise. It did move. He was here, he had come. You had heard everyone else over the past however long you had been in this darkness, including a little voice you didn’t know, but it rambled at you a mile a minute. “Y/N, come back to me.” Azriel spoke again and you wanted to shout at him that you were trying! Your eyes darted around the darkness and a shimmer urged you towards it. The closer you got to it the brighter it shined. A beautiful golden thread. You grasped it in one hand and pulled as hard as you could. You heard a gasp, then felt a tug back and with that your eyes flew open. “Azriel.” You said, except it didn’t come out as his name, rather a garbled mess of letters. “Here,” He said, propping you up gently with one arm and bringing a glass of water to your lips with the other and you drank deeply. “I need you to stay calm,” He said, “But I have to tell you something.” You looked up at him, “My wings are gone.” You said before he told you. He nodded, “I’m so so sorry.” He said, “If I could give you back the sky, I would.” His eyes shone with nothing but truth. “Is she okay? The little girl?” You asked and a dazzling smile graced his lips, “Ask her yourself.” He said as a little girl with big brown eyes came bounding into the room, a shadow chasing after her. “You’re awake!” She exclaimed. “I’m awake.” You told her as she scrambled onto the bed next to you, helped the last couple of inches by Azriel. “Are you okay?” You asked her, “Are you?” She replied, “I think so.” You told her. “I’m okay,” She said, “Just one little cut that's going to be a scar like Azzy’s! How cool is that?!” She asked, extending her little wing to show you. Azriel visibly cringed that this little girl thought anything about him was admirable. “What’s your name?” You asked her and she looked at Azriel with a big grin before turning back to you, “Marceline.” She said proudly, “Azzy gave it to me!” Azriel cleared his throat, “Well, technically, we picked it together.” She ignored him. “I didn’t have one before!” She told you.  

Azriel sent Marceline and her shadow to go and find Nyx to play with and he was seated back in the chair next to your bed. “So, you're like a dad now?” You asked teasingly and he shrugged, “I guess so.” You smiled up at him, “It suits you.” He smiled bashfully. “Do you know?” He asked, “Know what?” You said, confusion washing over you, “What we are to each other?” He asked gently, it was then you remembered the thread and you gasped. “Are we, Mates?” You asked and he nodded. “How long have you known?” “When I found you. It snapped.” He told you. You just stared at him, “I understand if you want to reject it, if you don’t want me, I’m hardly the kind of male you deserve, hel, a 4-year-old had to drag me in here because I couldn’t face it, seeing you, looking so lifeless.” You cut him off, “Azriel?” He stopped talking, “Are those three males hanging in a dungeon somewhere, bleeding and wishing they’d never been born?” You asked and he nodded dumbly, “Of course they are, they laid hands on you, twice. You no longer have wings so neither do they.” He said, your smile clearly took him by surprise, “Then you are exactly the male I deserve, I see you, Azriel, all of you and I’m not scared.” You said softly, “Let’s just take it a day at a time, see where we end up.” He smiled, “A day at a time.” He agreed.  

[profound-imagination]

What if I told you I spent the day rewriting this Azriel fic - it has gone from 2.8k words to 7.7k and I've changed it and improved it quite a bit - would you be interested?

[profound-imagination]

I can’t explain the thrill I get when I get a notification from Bri and it’s a TikTok, reel or meme that has simply been captioned “US!”

@thatlosernoonelikes

[profound-imagination]

@thatlosernoonelikes NOT UR NIGHTMARES BOO, JUST A HANDY SKILL

how can i get into someone's nightmares i have a message to send

[profound-imagination]

@thatlosernoonelikes big mood

how can i get into someone's nightmares i have a message to send

[profound-imagination]

Birds of a Feather - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N: Honestly, it's a bit of a mess, visions, switching POV's but I hope you enjoy.

T/W: Angst, Torture, Blood, Fire, Teeth etc.

W/C: 4.1K

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“Azriel? How? Elain?” those were the only three words you managed to string together as Cassian stood behind his wife who had just blown your life wide open. “I’m sorry, we all love you, we do, but Elain just fits with him, and someone needed to tell you.” Nesta told you as gently as she could, which, coming from Nesta, your eldest sister, was not very gently at all. You looked to Cassian instead. Cassian who had loved you like a brother, protected you like a brother since he had strolled into the Manor that day with Rhysand and Feyre, with Azriel. “But he fits with me, isn’t that what the bond is?” you had known it was him from the second you had fallen out of the Cauldron, dripping wet and shivering, covered in ice burns.

Nesta had said the Cauldron was scalding, you had experienced the opposite. Cassian was clearly struggling for words as he said, “Even the Mother can be wrong sometimes.” Tears welled in your eyes, “Elain? All this time?” Nesta nodded slowly. “Well, that seems about right, she always was the twin that had to have everything.” You said as you shook the tears from your eyes and straightened your spine. “Don’t do that.” Cassian said a tinge of warning in his tone, and you span on him, “Do what, Cass?” You demanded, “Don’t write yourself off like that.” You scoffed, “I didn’t write myself off, Elain did, Azriel did!” “Azriel did what?” Rhys asked, as if appearing out of nowhere, Feyre less than a step behind him as usual, Nyx in her arms, stretching towards you. “Nothing, it doesn’t matter!” You spat as you took your leave of the roof, completely ignoring your nephew.  

Typical, typical Elain to take yet another thing from you. As twins the two of you couldn’t have been more different, hel you didn't even look the same. No even then, even in the womb she took all the beauty and softness for herself, leaving you with sharp edges and gangly limbs. She was all feminine grace and you, well you just weren’t. You were awkward and clumsy and had no interest in men at all. Well not until a Shadowsinger strolled into your parlour room that fateful day and you had been captivated. You hadn’t been aware men could look like that. Well, he was a Male you supposed, a Fae Male. A completely different league than even the most handsome boy in your pitiful village. You swiped the tears angrily from your face as you stormed unevenly through the House of Wind when a hand grasped your upper arm and span you round. You watched angrily as the rest of the Shadowsinger emerged from his shadows that began to dance around you like you were an old friend they hadn’t seen for centuries. “What’s wrong? What happened?” He asked, death lacing his voice. “Nothing, Azriel, don’t worry about it.” His grip tightened slightly, “Doesn’t look like nothing.” he said through gritted teeth. You yanked your arm out of his grip, “Really, it’s nothing, leave it alone!” you hissed as you stormed away down the hall.  

You barely saw him after that if you could help it. He’d enter a room, you’d leave. He’d show up to start training, you’d finish training. He didn’t seem to notice. Always two steps behind Elain. Elain was a different story. She seemed different these days, shifty. You didn’t trust her much before, but at least you had the weird twin bond back then. It was muted now. A side effect of the Cauldron or of her you weren’t sure. It wasn’t your problem for right now. You had begged Rhys for a task, a job, anything to get you away from Azriel for a while. Away from the constant embarrassment you felt when you looked at him. You had been so clear in your affections and now you just felt like a fool. Rhys had tasked you with going to the human lands, to check in with Lucien and his Band of Exiles so here you were, walking towards the human lands, refusing to be taken. You had just set up camp for the night when a voice on the wind caught your attention.  

Against your better judgement, you followed the voice towards a clearing. You ducked behind a crumbling wall as the voice became louder and became two separate voices. “Lovely Faun, what information have you brought me this time?” A voice older than the earth crooned. “Koschei, master, he still resists.” That was Elain’s voice, but it couldn’t be, not your sister, she would never align herself with Koschei, would she? “I made you girl, you called out in the Cauldron, and I answered. I made you a Seer, more powerful than those who came before you! You then came to me and asked if I could undo it, if I could make you human again and did I not tell you what it would cost?” You peeked over the wall and saw her, your twin, saw her nod. “The Shadowsinger.” She said quietly, “I was to seduce him, to keep him away from my sister before he realised, they are Carranam, what they could do together.” She said, surer of herself now. “You need him for part of your plan.” She finished. Koschei hummed his agreement to what she had said.  

 “Bring him to me, lovely fawn, he will follow you, but it is important it is only him you bring.” Koschei rumbled, “I shall use the singer, brother will fight brother and with that, the only people who could band together against me will fissure and crack, then the world will be mine!” Elain seemed to hesitate by saying, “How do you know he will follow?” Koschei let out a laugh before something invisible gripped you and dragged you towards them. “Because I have something he won’t hesitate to fight for.” Elain gasped at the sight of you. “He doesn’t know why yet, but he won’t hesitate to follow when you tell him I have her but follow and fight he will, for his Mate.” Elain paled, “Mate? You said they were Carranam?!” Koschei laughed again, “They are, Lovely Fawn, Carranam and Mates, it has been an age since our world saw such a pair and they cannot be allowed to connect as such.” His voice was sharp now, as if his patience was running out. “Bring. Me. The. Singer.” He hissed at your twin as you fought against the invisible grip he had on you. She nodded, not even looking at you before she scampered away.  

Koschei finally turned his attention to you, “So we meet at last.” He said, looking you up and down, “I won’t let you use him.” You hissed, he let out an amused hum, “We’ll see about that, Little One.” He said as he turned away from you and then everything went black.  

It took some time for your other senses to come back to you when your vision returned. The room you found yourself in was dank, dark, and smelled of mildew. There was a constant drip drip drip from somewhere you couldn’t identify, and the temperature chilled your bones. If Koschei was trying to use the cold to make you uncomfortable he would fail, not even your blood ran warm these days, not since the Cauldron. You thrived in the cold, which was ironic considering how many years your sisters and you had spent cramped in one bed, shivering, clinging to each other for the slightest modicum of warmth. Icy rage burnt through you when you realised your leathers were gone, replaced by a thin white night gown. “You’re awake.” that ancient voice washed over you. You tried desperately to move, to see him, but you were restrained in one place, arms above your head, locked into place. “Are you ready?” Koschei asked, his voice sounding smug. “Ready for what?” You hissed. He came into your view, “Reconditioning.” He simply said. “I have a question first though,” he continued, “Did you really think the Shadowsinger would choose you? So sharp with all those edges,” he said, looking you up and down distastefully, he had been the one to change your clothes then. “Compared to the Lovely Fawn, what are you?” You didn’t dignify his question with an answer, because truly, he had you there. Who were you compared to Elain? Azriel, despite how he saw himself, was a truly a great Male. He was loyal, kind, caring, he listened, he understood, and he fought to the for those he loved. The only people you had ever heard him speak ill of was his own, the Illyrians. He was beautiful, so much so he could give Rhysand a run for his money. You didn’t deserve him. The Mother and the Cauldron had been cruel to him, to burden him with you.  

Koschei seemed to get fed up of your silence, snapping his fingers in front of your face to bring you back to the present. “Let’s begin, shall we?” before you had time to react, he swiped his hand over your face, your eyes fluttering closed.  

“Y/N.” Azriel greeted in a voice that promised death. “Az? What’s happening?” You asked, panic seizing through your body. “You know what’s happening.” He stated, “You betrayed us to Koschei and now you’re paying for it.” His words were like a physical blow. “No! I didn’t! I would never!” He levelled you with a glare. “So we’re doing this the hard way again today then?” You tried to shake your head, but you were restrained, tied to a table. Fear flooded through you as you realised exactly where you were, his torture chamber, deep below the Hewn City. He was going to destroy you. “Azriel, please, you have to believe me! I didn’t!” He slammed his hands down on the table of weapons he was surveying carefully, the weapons clanging together at the impact. “Do not lie to me!” He snapped, “Cassian is dead! I was made to watch as they held Rhys down and removed his wings! As they took his power from him! I listened as Feyre screamed as they took Nyx from her!” You turned your head to the side as best you could and vomited. “If it wasn’t for Elain we’d have never known who betrayed us, who sent my family to slaughter!” Azriel had sunk so far into himself, so far into that icy rage that you knew there was no getting through to him. His brothers dead and mutilated, his beloved nephew kidnapped. No matter what you said, he was never going to believe it. He was going to cause you pain that no one else could ever be creative enough to come up with. “Please?” You whimpered, a single tear falling down your cheek as he advanced, a wicked blade held in his hand. You couldn’t stop the scream that left your throat as he sliced the points off of your newly fae ears.  

Your eyes came back into focus, pain radiating through you. Koschei was standing infront of you. “Poor little Fae, what did the Shadowsinger do to you?” You closed your eyes at the onslaught of memories that hit you, of the last few hours you had spent with Azriel. Only just the beginning you knew. He’d removed the tops of your ears, pulled teeth and fingernails. Methods you knew were tame for him. He was capable of much much more. But still you fought it, “Wasn’t him.” You croaked; mouth full of blood. “Rest now.” Koschei said gently, “He’ll be back.”  

Azriel had come back, time after time, slowly carving away more parts of you, sinking further into his rage until he was someone you no longer recognised. This was him, the true him, the one who made enemies shudder when he landed on battlefields and emerged from shadows. The Angel of Death. He’d broken you this time. You had nothing more to give and you could no longer weather the storm that Azriel was. “I can help you.” Koschei said that evening, “I can teach you how to fight, fight someone as skilled as him, level the playing field.” You blinked up at him through swollen eyes, “You can?” He hummed, “Yes, Little One, I can.”  

Azriel’s shadows alerted him to someone beelining for his room. Panic, Panic, Panic. They whispered, Azriel pulled Truth Teller from his thigh and positioned himself beside the door. His bedroom door flew open and before whoever had entered could even register what was happening, Azriel had them against the wall, Truth Teller to their throat. “Az!” Elain squeaked. Why hadn’t his shadows told him she was approaching and not a threat? “Elain? What’s wrong?” He breathed, stepping away from her. “It’s Y/N! Koschei has her!” He sprang into action immediately, fighting down the panic that rose in him, the urge to find her as quickly as possible. “You can’t tell the others!” She rushed out, “There’s no time, we need to go now, me and you!” He stopped to survey her for a moment, and she seemed to scramble for the words. “If we show up with Rhys and Feyre, he might act irrationally and kill her on site, you and your shadows can go unseen, and I can see what’s happening!” Azriel surveyed Elain for a couple more seconds before nodding his agreement. He could handle this. He strode over to his armoire, threw open the doors and began selecting his weapons.  

“Do you have a plan?” Elain whispered, creeping along behind him. He stopped and pushed her towards a hidden alcove. “Yes.” He said, his words clipped. “You’re staying here.” He instructed and strode away. Pushing his way through the bushes he surveyed the clearing ahead of him. Empty. He growled to himself, he needed to find her. His shadows were restless, panicking but he didn’t have time to figure out why. “Koschei!” He bellowed into the clearing. “Koschei!” Something barrelled into him from the left, knocking him off of his feet, taking him by complete surprise. The scent hit him before his eyes could recognise who had him pinned and he dropped his hands from their defensive position. “Y/N?” He breathed, relief flooding through him for a brief moment. She was wild. Not a single shred of humanity behind her bruised eyes. Those beautiful eyes which until now still showed her as human, despite the fact she no longer was. Her fists raining down on him, still, he did not lift a hand to defend himself, not as that snap happened inside him and he realised just who was on top of him. His Mate.  

“You have to stop.” He said quietly, surely. “It’s me, its Az, I’m here to take you home.” He told her as her fists continued to rain down upon him. He took in the damage on her face, the damage he was sure that went further than he could see. “No! You will not hurt me again!” She hissed. “I never hurt you, Y/N.” He said quietly. His denial seemed to make her angrier. “Yes, you did! You think I betrayed you all, Cassian is dead! Nyx is gone, Rhys is powerless and wingless! It wasn’t me! You didn’t listen! You never listen! You just kept going!” Azriel had no clue what was happening, but he knew he needed his brothers, so he called for Rhys, despite Elain’s warning.  

“Get up and fight me, Shadowsinger!” She hissed, getting to her feet. “I’m not going to fight you, Y/N.” He told her, his voice even, getting to his feet. “Fight me, you coward!” She yelled, “Or do you not get the same pleasure from it when I'm not tied down and screaming?!” She asked, removing the daggers from her thighs. He didn’t move as she took aim and loosed the dagger in her right hand. A perfect shot, right into the siphon that sat on his chest, he felt the power leave him immediately. “Fight me!” She growled again taking aim a second time and loosing the dagger. It found a home in his shoulder this time.  

Power filled the clearing as Rhys and Cassian arrived. She shuddered under the weight of it. “Turn around, Y/N.” Azriel told her, not taking his eyes from hers. “Turn around and see that Rhys and Cassian are fine.” She took a quick look over her shoulder. “Lies! Tricks!” She snapped. “You’ve been lied to, yes, but not by me.” He told her as she advanced on him. “Y/N!” Cassian called for her, “I’m alive, I'm here, come and see for yourself.” He told her. Before any of them had the chance to react, Rhys was in front of her, wings unfurled, power crackling around the clearing. “Stop this!” He commanded and she fell to her knees under the weight of his power. Azriel was about to let out a relieved breath when fire erupted around her, surrounding her on all sides. “I told her to bring you and you alone, Shadowsinger.” A ancient voice spoke as if it was coming from all angles. The brothers spotted him almost immediately, Elain stood next to him. “You did this?!” Azriel spat at the middle sister, the older twin. “He’s going to give me my life back.” She mumbled. “What was the cost?” Rhys demanded and her glance towards Azriel was the answer. Him. Y/N began to scream then. “I’ll have to improvise now I suppose.” Koschei spoke, “But no matter, the fire will consume her and you’ll be mine, Singer.” He said.  

“Consume her?” Cassian whispered and Koschei let out a humourless laugh, “Oh yes, hel fire, nasty stuff, surrounds you and gets you from the inside out.” Fire, why did it have to be fire? Azriel took one look at his brothers, then looked to his Mate who was still screaming. “I love you, both of you.” He said, hoping the truth of the words shone in his eyes, Rhys clicked on before Cassian did, “Az, don’t-” Rhys didn’t get the chance to finish his words as Azriel took a deep breath and stepped into the fire, stumbling towards his Mate. She would not burn alone.  

All you knew was pain, searing burning pain. You were ready to close your eyes and give up when you saw an angel. He was made of the same fire that was burning you and he was walking towards you, calling your name. He was beautiful. “Have you come to take me?” You asked, the best you could, throat raw from screaming. “Yes love, I’ve come to take you home.” He answered. “Okay.” You agreed, lifting your arms to the angel in a silent plea to be carried. “Make it stop?” You asked him, “I will,” He said, “I’ll make it stop, I promise.” You curled your head into his neck. “My ice is gone, melted.” You said sadly. “I’ll fix it.” Was the last thing you heard him say before the darkness swept in again and you braced yourself to be back on that table in Hewn City.  

When you came to, you weren’t on the table as you expected, but in a plush bed. Nesta watching you carefully from a chair beside your bed. Cassian next to her, nearly in tears as you looked at him. “You aren’t dead? Really?” You choked out, “No, I’m not dead.” He said gently, offering you his wrist so you could feel his pulse and prove to yourself that he was really there. “You think the world would still be standing if he was dead?” Nesta asked, handing you a glass of water, “Try not to move too much, you’re still healing.” She added. “But Azriel said you were dead, that Rhys’s wings and power were gone...” You trailed off as the High Lord appeared before you, wings outstretched, power caressing your mind. “All lies, fed to you by Koschei.” He said. Feyre was next to you, placing Nyx down on the bed with you, “Gently.” She reminded her young son, who went to great lengths to carefully crawl into your lap. “Az never laid a hand on you.” Feyre told you. “He came after you after Elain told him you were gone.” You shook your head. “She lead him into a trap.” Rhys nodded, “We know, and she is confined to her rooms until we figure out the best thing to do with her.” You nodded, “Lucien.” You told them, “She might want to be human still but Koschei has a hold on her as well, maybe its something a Mate can break?” Rhys hummed his agreement, “He’s already on his way.”  

You sat with Nyx for hours, just holding onto the little boy like he was the only thing you could believe was real. Rhys and Feyre had gone to talk to Elain and trusted that Nesta and Cassian would let nothing happen to the little boy. Neither of them had brought up Azriel yet, so you did. “Where is he? Az?” You asked them and the pair shared a look. It was Cassian who eventually said. “He’s in his room, he was hurt.” You gasped, “Did I?!” Cassian shook his head, “You hit him with a couple of daggers but no, not you.” You passed Nyx to him, “What are you doing?!” Nesta demanded as you began to scramble out of your bed, “You’re going to hurt yourself!” You didn’t care, you had to see him. “I need to see him, Nes!” She looked into your eyes and seemed to understand the urgency in them so she nodded, “Let me help you then.” She said, supporting you out of the door and down the hall, “Why are we at the River House?” You asked on the way, “Easier for the healers.” Was all she said.  

Shadows were pouring out of the crack at the bottom of Azriel’s bedroom door as you approached but cleared as you walked towards it, you knocked once and entered, leaving Nesta at the door. Azriel was lying in his bed, covered in bandages, ointments across his bedside. “What happened?” You gasped and his head shot towards you, he winced as he did so. “Y/N! Are you okay?” He asked in a broken voice, “Are you?” You replied. “I’ll be fine.” Was all he said as you continued to take him in. “Az, your wings!” He nodded stiffly. “Fire and I really don’t mix, I guess.” He said, “Fire?” You asked, “Az you hate fire!” He met your eyes as you sat yourself in the chair next to his bed. “I do hate fire, that’s true, but you were in there and I wasn’t leaving you.” Your heart cracked at his words, his biggest fear and he had walked through it for you. “I was on fire? Why don’t I have any burns?” You asked quietly. “Three reasons,” He said, “One, your ice kept you safe, you told me it was gone and that it had melted, that was true, it protected you for as long as it could. Two, I shielded you with my wings. Three, I gave you my blood when we got back here.” A tear slid down your face. “You did that for me?” He nodded. “Why did your blood help?” You asked, “I think you know why.” He responded. “A Mates blood.” You murmured and he nodded again. “Why didn’t you take any of mine? To heal you?” He went quiet for a minuet and took a deep breath. “Feyre suggested it. Said you would be fine with it, but you were so convinced I had hurt you, tortured you, I wouldn’t allow it. I’ll heal well enough.” You shook your head. “Take it now! It wasn’t you, I know it wasn’t!” You stood and walked over to his desk. You picked up Truth Teller and walked back over, slicing your palm as you sat. “Drink Az, I know you’re in pain, I can feel it, everything else we can talk about later.” He hesitated before taking your palm and bringing it to his lips and drinking deeply. He used that same hand to pull you into the bed next to him, groaning as he did so. “We can talk about everything else when we wake up, rest now.” He said, tucking your head under his chin. “Okay.” You murmured, eyes growing heavy. “Az?” he hummed for you to continue. “Never walk through fire for me again.” You told him. “I’d walk through fire every day for the rest of my life for you.” He said quietly as you drifted off to sleep. 

[profound-imagination]

I GET TO MEET BRI IN REAL LIFE NEXT MONTH!

UNHINGED BESTIES ON TOUR!

@thatlosernoonelikes

[profound-imagination]

@thatlosernoonelikes BRI HELP ME! I HAVE FORGOTTEN HOW TO BREATHE!

“If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?”

Lucien Vanserra - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Artist: @carraert

[profound-imagination]

@thatlosernoonelikes BRI BRI BRI!!!

Eris, anyone?