#I had so much hope with cassian

[lainalit]

Me revoking Cassians himbo card after the sh*t he does to nesta in acosf

[averlym]

litany of the martyrs (click for better resolution!)

[tarotsoul]

ghost in the wind — part one

summary: all your life, your presence had been nothing more than a faint kiss of a breeze—nothing impactful, nothing worth noticing. so why did it hurt so much when that remained the case after moving to prythian?

warnings: a bit of angst, feelings of self-hatred and worthlessness, brief mentions of sexual assault

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist

“No.”

There was no room for argument in Nesta’s tone, no room for anything other than agreement or else she’d reign the Hells on all of them. Her mate be damned, she would not leave the mortal lands without you. Not again.

“If we take her,” Cassian gritted his teeth, “I am inviting her husband to wage war on our kind if he so chooses.”

Nesta bared her teeth. “Rafe is nothing but a coward and a sorry excuse of a man. What kind of war could he wage? If she stays, then so do I.”

Cassian blanched at his mate, his teeth grinding. They were only supposed to have stopped through for no more than a week, to ensure things in the mortal lands were restoring to somewhat of the normalcy they once had before the war.

He blinked at Nesta, noting the way she bore her feet into the solid ground, as if planting herself there like a tree weaving its roots into the soil. He knew the love she had for her cousin, her only friend, as she’d once told him. The guilt she’d felt when she first left the village, left you, hadn’t eased in the slightest.

Perhaps this was the reason she insisted on joining Cassian on this third-grade mission. He cast a quick glance over her shoulder to the small stone house you were occupying, and closed his eyes to ground his breathing.

“We can’t just bring her back without consulting Rhys first.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Screw Rhys. I’ll deal with him myself if I have to. She is my family, Cassian. My friend. Every night, he beats her and abuses her and takes from her what she will not willingly give. She is coming back with us.”

Cassian took another grounding breath, the iron will in Nesta’s eyes granting not even a fraction of negotiation. There was too much going on right now, too much to sift through to rebuild their city and legions.

But Nesta was right, and despite not knowing you, he couldn’t stomach the idea of leaving a vulnerable soul with a monster who took and abused like Rafe did. Especially not when he saw the pain on his mate's eyes for her cousin.

“Ten minutes. Tell her to pack necessities only. We will need to leave within the hour if we wish to be gone before her husband returns.”

Nesta didn’t cast him a second glance as she turned and sprinted into your home. You scrambled back from the window, heat painting your cheeks that you’d been caught watching them, straining your ears for a sliver of their conversation, to no avail.

She said nothing of your snooping, only grabbed your hand and dragged you to your sleeping chambers. “Pack only what you need. You’re coming back with us.”

You blinked, lungs seizing the air you tried to breathe. Leaving? For the Fae lands?

“Ness,” you tried, but she held up a slender hand to cut you off.

“Don’t. I made the mistake of leaving you behind before. I won’t do it again.” She couldn’t look at you. Not at the bruises marring your skin, or the split lip you’d earned yourself two nights ago for leaving an unwashed pot in the sink.

So you didn’t think twice about the consequences of being caught fleeing. You didn’t think twice at all as you stuffed minimal clothing into a satchel along with a photo of your beloved mother and the worn journal you kept hidden beneath the mattress.

Nesta allowed you a moment to compose yourself as she returned to her mate just outside your home. Home. As if you could ever have truly referred to it as that. This was not a home. You hadn’t had a home since your mother passed ten years ago. Since you married Rafe and your whole world fell apart.

You had prayed. Prayed to whatever out there that would listen. Hoped and hoped that one day your salvation would arrive, that you’d be finally spared from the misery you’d been subjected to for so long. From the pain and terror and loneliness.

You hadn’t realised you were absentmindedly twisting the iron band on your ring finger until the small stone in the centre scratched at your skin. That Gods damned ring that bound you to the monster you called your husband. That iron cage that kept you as his possession instead of his love.

Yet the fear… the fear at the idea of removing it sat far too heavy in your chest. The fear of him finding you, punishing you. But he wouldn’t find you, you knew that. Rafe would never dream of crossing that veil into the Fae lands. And even if he did, you were sure he’d be eaten alive within the first breath he took in that world.

When you met Nesta and Cassian outside, they both had a satchel of their own on their shoulders; stuffed to the brim of bread and cheese and skins of water they’d raided from the kitchen.

The General nodded at you once as you approached. You wondered if you’d done anything to offend him, or perhaps he found this—you—to be an unnecessary burden to him and his day.

“Thank you,” you managed to utter, and both he and Nesta felt the pure relief and gratitude in your voice.

Cassian’s resolve softened, a sympathetic gleam in his eye and he hated himself for a moment for even considering leaving you here alone.

“It’ll take us half a day to reach the wall,” Nesta began, unmoving from Cassian’s side. “When we pass, Azriel will meet us at the border in Spring. Cassian cannot fly the both of us.”

You couldn’t help the apology that slithered up your throat. “I don’t mean to be a burden—“

But it was Cassian who growled in response, “You are not. You are family, and we don’t leave family behind.”

You walked for hours, legs sore and tired and throbbing from the stamina you lacked. But you didn’t want to stop, to ask for a break. They were kind enough to have brought you, you needn’t add any more time onto their already long journey.

So you kept your mouth shut and willed your legs to move, one in front of the other. Hours passed and you could feel that familiar panic rise in your stomach. Nightfall was approaching, which meant Rafe would surely be home by now…

You didn’t want to allow yourself to think of that. Of what he was doing after finding the home empty with nothing but your wedding band on the dresser, the only proof you ever even existed in that house.

It was Cassian who made the call to stop for a break, as though only now remembering how weak a mortal body was compared to a Fae’s—or in his case, an Illyrian.

Nesta had told you many things about her family in Prythian; the members of the Inner Circle, the beautiful city of Velaris and all the wonders it had to offer. Despite the relief you felt for leaving, the anxiety of entering the Fae lands was unmatched to anything you’d felt before.

You rested for only thirty minutes, the three of you eating your way through an entire satchel of food and two skins of water. Perhaps Nesta and Cassian were as tired as you were, though you figured not.

And by the time you reached the wall, night had surrounded you in complete darkness, nothing but a ripple in the air to suggest you had met the end of your homelands.

It was opaque for the most part, but the air seemed to glimmer and fold, as if you were looking magic dead in its face. You allowed your fingers to reach shakily for it, a fearful thought stopping you from making contact.

You turned to your cousin. “Will it hurt?”

She took your hand. “No, though when we pass through you’ll need to stay as close to Cassian and I as possible. Your scent—it’ll be a beacon to all sorts of creatures that roam freely within the Spring.”

Nesta shrugged off her jacket and handed it to you. “It’ll somewhat mask your scent. Just long enough until we meet with Azriel.”

You shoved your arms in the jacket as you put it on over your own and took Nesta’s hand again. Her eyes met yours, something akin to relief and sorrow flickering in her gaze. You didn’t want her pity. And it cleaved your heart into two knowing that you could never do anything to repay her for this, to express just how far your gratitude stretched.

Cassian and Nesta took three steps forward and as you followed, the air rippled around you…you breathed in the new life and second chance you’d been given.

But nothing could have prepared you for what awaited on the other side of the veil.

The first and only thing you saw were a set of sharp, gleaming white teeth before you were shoved to the ground with a hard thud, your head hitting against soft grass with a thump.

Snarls and grunts and shrieks surrounded you, and in the time it took to regain your bearings, Cassian and Nesta were sheathing their daggers once more as the…thing that had attacked lay dead on a field of daisies.

With eerie calmness, you assessed the creature. It was huge, twice the size of Cassian and about four times the size of you. Dark black fur covered its body and ruby red eyes that lifelessly stared into your very soul.

For some strange, obscene reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Not as you breathed in the fresh soil beneath your feet. It felt as though your world had been turned on his axis, as if only now could you see clearly.

Then you heard it, a distant swooshing in the wind. You angled your neck toward the noise, eyes not needing to squint in the darkness as the stars illuminated the sky so beautifully.

Your brows furrowed, but you did not look away. “Something is coming.”

Both Nesta and Cassian followed your gaze then, stepping closer to your still body. The figure came closer, your initial thoughts of it being a large bird being dismissed as a pair of wings much like Cassian’s, only larger, flipped through the midnight air.

You smelt him before catching his face. Pine and wood and parchment. Mint. There was a hint of mint and something sweet like cinnamon as the glorious Illyrian landed swiftly onto the grass.

Azriel.

You remembered him, the Shadowsinger. Silver streaks of the moon casted across his brown skin as he approached swiftly, those dark and languid shadows moving across his form and snaking the earth until they halted at your feet—assessing.

“So glad you finally joined the party.” Cassian said in greeting, though Azriel paid no mind to the tone his brother offered.

Those shadows wrapped around your ankles softly, slinking your skin as they felt you out. You felt something then, a tug in the air that seemed to pull the shadows back to Azriel’s towering form.

That was when you looked at him, breath stolen from your lungs. He was beautiful. A warrior, that you could tell. Solid muscle covered every inch of him, dark black hair that sat messily on his head and swept down his forehead and brows. Hazel eyes met yours, his lips parting—no doubt at the state of your bruised face.

He was beautiful when you’d seen him previously on his brief visit to speak with Lucien… but now, it was as though you were seeing him truly–with so much clarity in your gaze it almost blinded you. Everything about this land did. 

“There are more coming, so unless you want a fight, I suggest we leave.”

His tone held no room for argument, yet he spoke in an unrushed drawl, as if these creatures were the least of his concern. He was as large as Cassian, daggers strapped to his leathers, so you supposed they likely posed little to no threat to him and his skills.

“Can you winnow?” Nesta asked.

It wasn’t lost on you how overlooked you were, despite being the reason for his presence. But like most of your life, it came as no surprise to be somewhat invisible. Cast aside. Unnoticed.

Azriel shook his head. “We’ll need to fly to the border between Autumn and Winter, from there I can winnow us back to Velaris.”

Cassian nodded, reaching for Nesta. “We’ll go first, make sure the area is safe. Follow us in five minutes.”

Nesta looked at you, a silent conversation between you both.

You’ll be okay?

I’ll be fine. If you trust Azriel then so do I.

No other words were exchanged when Cassian hauled Nesta into his arms, spread his magnificent wings and shot to the skies. You watched until they were a mere dot beside the stars before returning your attention to the Shadowsinger who was already offering you his.

“It’s nice to see you again, Y/N.” He said politely.

You wondered if he’d remembered your name from your first and last encounter almost a year ago, or if when Cassian sent word for aid he’d reminded him of it.

Either way, you offered a timid smile. “You too, Azriel. I apologise for troubling you with this. All of you.”

He shook your apology off. “It’s no bother. Are you hurt anywhere?”

You knew he wasn’t referring to bruises and cuts you already adorned. It seemed as though stepping through that veil gave you more clarity, more understanding of silent thoughts and everything else around you.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Good.” He nodded, and those shadows threatened to reach for your ankles again.

Azriel didn’t pull them back this time, only took a tentative step closer. “I apologise, they’re no threat. Not to you.”

You nodded, gaze upon them as they slinked further up your body and wrapped softly around your arms. Azriel almost bristled at the way you remained so calm. He wondered how much about him and his family you knew. He supposed Nesta had told you much through letters and such.

You didn’t reply, couldn’t bring yourself. You knew how deadly the Inner Circle could be to their enemies. And yet these shadows touched you with more softness than your husband ever did. You didn’t let that thought show on your face.

“Everything feels different on this side of the wall,” you admitted, a little breathless.

Azriel remained looking at you. “Everything feels…clearer.”

You waved the shadows off your body gently, silently shooing them back to their master.

“I’ll need to fly you like Cassian did to Nesta,” he began. “Are you afraid of heights?”

You didn’t know the answer to that. But the thought of being held by him the same way Nesta was by Cassian… that thought scared you. And not because it was Azriel, but because of the sheer closeness and intimacy that was needed for it.

You swallowed it down. “No… I don’t think so.”

He nodded, taking another step closer with an outstretched hand. “You can close your eyes if you wish, and I’ll fly slowly, I swear.”

You heard it then, the pattering of paws on the grass, of claws digging into the soil and snarls of breath into the night. You looked to Azriel, eyes a little wilder than before. He nodded, as if he already knew what you were about to say.

He held out his hand further for you to take, and you took a hold of his marred skin, calloused under your softer palm but you didn’t balk, didn’t pull away as you got a clearer view of the scars that adorned him.

Azriel hoisted you into his arms, cradling you to his chest. “The take off will be harsh, make sure you hold on tight to me.”

And he wasn’t lying. Azriel bent his knees and shoved his full weight into the earth before you both shot into the starlit skies. You didn’t close your eyes, you wanted to see everything this world had to offer. A world that was always at your fingertips but never accessible until now.

The wind seemed to whisper to you, gently caressing your bruised skin and promising a better life. A new life. As though the elements welcomed you home. 

It was only moments of uphill force until Azriel evened out and began a steady speed through the clouds. His scent enveloped you, almost overbearing as it encompassed all of your senses.

You worried for a moment then. If his scent surrounded you this way, you wondered how badly yours did to him with such heightened senses. You tried to hold your breath for longer than usual, tried to steady your heartbeat, afraid he’d hear it.

“Are you okay?” He murmured against the shell of your ear. Because even though you tried to mask it, he could sense your every feeling, your every tremor and sigh and sob.

Tears streamed down your face as he flew you both north toward the border between Autumn and Winter.

“Thank you, Azriel.” And you thanked him and thanked him and thanked him. Until your voice grew hoarse from the sobs and you let yourself realise that you were finally free.

Finally safe. 

In the transitioning week of being escorted to the Night Court, you had hardly spoken to a soul. For the first two days, you appreciated the silence, the safety–basked in it, even. Nesta had shown you to your room in the House of Wind, an incredible home built into the walls of a large mountain that overlooked the city of Velaris. 

“Should you need anything,” Nesta had said softly, “ask the House, it listens.” 

And she had been right. The first night, you thought of a hot bubble bath and a gentle breeze had sifted through your sheer curtains, guiding you to your personal bathing chambers where a hot bath had been drawn, scents of calming lavender and jasmine coating you. 

You only saw Nesta twice after that, once when she brought you some of her favourite romance books and again, two days later when she told you Feyre and Elain sent their love and well wishes. 

She’d had the family's healer, Majda, check you over for any untreated injuries, and when she came up short she offered you a few tonics for the discomfort and encouraged you to rest before sending you back on your way.

You shouldn’t have expected more, shouldn’t have longed for more. You supposed Nesta had done her part enough–saving you from Rafe and bringing you here. And yet, despite the House tending to your needs and the souls of the romance novels…you felt just as alone as you had in the mortal lands. 

You hadn’t seen Azriel since either, nor Cassian. You didn’t have much right to ask after them, to thank them again. They had their own lives and roles to fill, you knew your rescue had been nothing more than another third-grade mission to them. 

By the fifth day, the realisation had begun to sink in. That you’d been moved from one lonely home into another. Perhaps that was the course your life was fated to take–alone, unnoticed, nothing more than a ghost in the wind, nothing worth acknowledging. 

You wrote your thoughts into your leather-bound journal, the only form of release you had for these dark emotions. Yet every time the pen lifted from the parchment, you felt heavier than you had before. 

You were yet to leave your bedroom, often sitting at the window seat that overlooked the lights of the city, wondering what life awaited down there. Wondered if you’d ever get the opportunity to explore it. Nesta had mentioned that the House was warded from winnowing, the only way out was to fly or descend the ten thousand stairs. 

But you couldn’t fly, and you wouldn’t make the steps down either. You weren’t a prisoner, you knew that. But Nesta had done her part, saving you, bringing you to her and Cassian’s home. You were not her responsibility, not anyones. 

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel trapped, restricted. Moved from one stone building and into another. Perhaps that was what finally made you venture out of your room, barefeet padding across the cool floors.

You followed the winding staircase to a lower level, noting the ornate furniture that decorated the large space. A crackling hearth caught your attention, so inviting and warm in front of a plush couch. The House seemed to beckon you to it, a gentle breeze against the backs of your bare legs and it made your short nightgown sway. 

Following it, you sat on the couch and a thick blanket materialised and draped itself over your legs at the same time a steaming mug of tea and a new romance novel appeared on the table beside you. 

You smiled softly, warmth spreading in your chest as you thanked the House. 

An hour or so had passed, not that you were for certain, but the House remained silent. Nothing but sips of your tea and flipping of pages could be heard along with the crackling of the hearth. 

For a moment, you felt at peace in your own company. Completely content for this time to sit and read and know you wouldn’t receive a beating or worse for it. You stretched out your back, stifling a yawn as a pair of soft footsteps greeted your ears. 

Your eyes widened, an unnecessary apology already on the tip of your tongue, though for what you weren’t sure. That had become the norm for you, apologising for your every breath. 

But it was not Rafe that stepped out of the shadows, of course not. It was Azriel, in all his glory, wings tucked neatly behind his back and you counted the seven blue siphons that adorned his leathers. 

“Azriel,” you breathed, a sheepish smile on your face. 

Finally, some company. Someone to acknowledge your presence and to perhaps converse with. You shuffled on the couch, making to put your book down but all Azriel did was give you a terse nod in greeting and a thin smile before walking down the hall and out of your sight. 

It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. You should be used to this by now. You were used to it. But you couldn’t control that tiny thread of hope in your chest that things could be different. That you could be accepted and wanted and noticed. 

For the eighth night in a row, you were left in the dark with nothing but the crippling loneliness and aching of your soul to keep you company. 

a/n: thank you for reading!! this is the first instalment of this mini-series that i literally got the idea for two days ago lol. it'll be around 5/6 parts, smut will come and a few twists you won't expect!! unfortunately i'm unable to get my old page back (rhysazriel), which means most of my previous writings have been lost but i'll likely repost the ones i have saved in my google docs in the late future (plug!az being one of them)

if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated!! <3

[pellucid-constellations]

Fable - After

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Your wings were gone. The healing process would teach you much about yourself, but it would teach Azriel, too. Does it matter, in the end?

Word count: 7k

Warnings: Angst, injury, symptoms of depression (including difficulty eating)

a/n: This is part of a mini-series and the other parts can be found in the link below. Sorry this is literally so long lol. Debating on adding another chapter to the end because I obviously have a lot to say! Also, I won't be posting an update for about a week because I'll be traveling, so I hope this long chapter holds you over. Thank you :)

Series Masterlist (all parts ♡)

~~

You woke as the sun did. Yellow light made an imprint behind your eyelids and the grogginess that immediately followed let you know that this was not the first time you had been awake. Sleeping through the night had become a luxury not afforded to you. 

You clenched the pillow at your cheek between your fingers and tried to pull at the loose threads of sleep that were escaping you. 

Someone was in your room. 

Someone was always in your room these days, but this morning, you knew it was Azriel. You could feel the whisps of his shadows making barely-there strokes along your back, and his scent was unmistakable. If it was Azriel today, they didn’t expect you to talk. When they wanted you to try and speak, they sent Cassian or Mor or even Feyre on the odd occasion. 

They didn’t expect you to talk when it was Azriel. 

You supposed everyone thought you were mad at him. Truthfully, part of you was mad at him. If he had just opened his eyes once over the last hundreds of years, he would have seen that you were right there—that you were more than a responsibility for him to look after. That you were a woman in love with him and he was a fool for taking so long to notice. 

But another part of you felt that you couldn’t blame him. Azriel had never had much luck in the romance department, and you’d always chalked that up to self-sabotage. He seemed to go after women he knew he couldn’t have and only assumed late-night trysts with those he could, so you couldn’t expect much out of him. And how was he to know that you pined after him? It wasn’t as if you’d ever made any kind of move. 

But Elain had so enamored him and you were so angry at that part. Because you had been there and he had never taken the leaps and bounds he had with her. 

He had left you in that camp, so ready to believe your lie to appease her. 

You were the biggest fool of all. 

In actuality, neither of those parts mattered. There wasn’t some internal strife that fought against your sleep and made you question your feelings. You weren’t mad at Azriel. You weren’t mad at anyone or anything. You felt empty. 

You gave up on sleep, breathing heavily through your nose and squinting your eyes into the sun that peaked through your curtains. Your back ached, and even more, the insurmountable pressure on your chest was amplified by the bandages that wrapped around from behind you. They made it difficult to breathe. 

No infection had set in. It had been two and a half weeks since the incident, and Madja cleared you to begin moving around a few days ago and noted that you were “out of the woods, medically.” Everyone looked relieved as if that news had changed anything. To them, you supposed it did. You would live. That was good. 

Azriel knew you were awake, you were sure of it. You heard his chair groan as if he were leaning forward in it, and his shadows had begun to traipse around your head, weaving in and out of your hair and blocking the light from your eyes. 

He would try to get you to eat, look at you with those pitying eyes, and apologize when you could barely sit up and hold out a plate as if you were going to eat it. You hadn’t met his gaze since you woke up and there was more than just resentment behind that. There was shame—you were so ashamed of what you had become. What you had let happen. 

Maybe that was another reason why you felt so empty. How could Azriel even look at you as anything other than broken? When you were whole—when you had your wings—there was an irrational part of you that considered you had a chance with the Shadowsinger if he would just see you. 

There was nothing to see now. 

“Are you awake?” Azriel asked, keeping his voice low in the quiet room. You nodded against the pillow, face still turned from his view. The chair groaned once again. “Are you hungry?” 

No head shake. It was a frequent question that you hated being asked. 

Azriel’s footsteps were soft against your carpet. He kneeled beside your bed and attempted to catch your fleeting gaze, but you found a spot on the floor and kept it there. 

“Can you try?” he prompted. His textured fingers brushed the hair from your eyes. “Not even at the table. I’ll have the House bring you something here.” 

You pressed your lips together and fought off the burning in your nose. 

“Please, y/n.  I know you’re angry with me—I know. But please, just try to eat something.” 

Angry at him—anger wasn’t even in your repertoire at the moment. But he sounded so desperate, as did every other member of your family, and you didn’t want the let them down more than you already had. You shut your eyes and nodded, resigned. 

You built up the strength to prop yourself up on your arms, but that’s where you stopped. Your center of gravity had been completely ripped from you. Anytime you moved without your wings, it felt like free-falling from a mountain. Madja had offered—several times since physically clearing you—to come and get you back on your feet, but the motivation wasn’t there. 

You couldn’t imagine walking without the weight at your back. 

And you had avoided every reflection known to man; seeing yourself would be too much. 

“I have you,” Azriel encouraged, holding you at your waist as he twisted your body up. “Almost. There we go, angel” —he positioned you between pillows that hadn’t been on your bed before— “How’s that? Is it alright?” 

Humiliation felt like a hot knife. You nodded and found a spot on the bed to focus on. You could feel Azriel’s lingering gaze and he hesitated before placing a bowl of broth on a small platter before you. 

“Is that okay?” 

You nodded again, biting the inside of your lip. Your back ached. 

“Do you want me to leave?” 

You nodded. 

Azriel hesitated once more, rocking back on his heels before clearing his throat and letting the door softly shut behind him. The tears came then, and you were so tired of crying. 

~~

Azriel’s POV

Outside of your room, Azriel’s forehead was pressed against the wood of your door. The intricate carvings imprinted his right palm as he kept it pressed there as well, and Azriel had to breathe through his nose to calm himself. 

He was at a loss. 

He didn’t blame you for not speaking to him, but you wouldn’t speak to anyone. You wouldn’t get out of bed unless it was Mor or Feyre lifting you for a bath and you wouldn’t leave your room at all. They had all expected this—planned for a long healing process—but you were so… lifeless. 

Gods, he was helpless. You wouldn’t even look at him. 

Azriel clenched his jaw and tried to listen for the clink of the spoon against the bowl when a hand on his back startled him. Because that was another thing—he’d been off his game since you got hurt, completely useless as a spy. 

“How is she?” Cassian. Cassian was just as worried as Azriel, but Azriel was pretty sure you were looking him in the eye at least. “Get her to talk?” 

“No,” Azriel breathed through a constricting throat. He turned to meet his brother’s face. He was sure Cassian still held some resentment towards him, but he’d apologized for his outburst when you arrived at the House. Apologized, but not entirely forgiven. 

Cassian sighed and rubbed at his jaw. “Is she at least eating?” 

“She agreed to eat. I left her with some soup. She wanted me to leave.” 

“She say that?” 

“I asked and she nodded.” 

Cassian kissed his teeth and curled his wings in tighter. “Have you… talked to her?” 

Azriel had to fight the urge to scoff, throwing his brother an incredulous look. “Obviously I talk to her, Cassian. I don’t stand in her room and motion at things.” 

In response, Cassian did not fight the urge to roll his eyes. “I mean actually talk to her, Azriel. About what happened. You finding her. Her lying and you not being there. I know it was one of the only missions at the camps she’s been at without you there. That means something, no?” 

“I don’t think she wants to talk to me at all—let alone rehash all of that.” 

“Azriel,” Cassian started, stepping forward to place a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. “Give her a chance to push you away. Let her be the one to do it. If you play into this fear, it might confirm things for her, and you know her mind isn’t in a good place.” 

Azriel winced. “I think you might be better to—�� 

“No, Az, you. Let her eat her breakfast, give her an hour or two, and then go back in there and talk to her. I’ve already been talking to her and she won’t say a word to me. I think you’re the only person who’s been too afraid to.” 

Azriel sighed and then leaned his head back until it knocked against your door. In another life, you might’ve called out and asked who was there. But there was only silence. 

Cassian sent Azriel a look with raised brows and patted his brother twice on the shoulder before backing into the hall. He had taken four steps towards the dining room before Azriel called, “What did you mean then, about me being blind?” 

Cassian paused but didn’t turn. Azriel watched his head tilt to the side and a deep sigh escaped him. 

“Shouldn’t have said that,” Cassian muttered. He started walking once more. “Just—think a little more.”

~~

Original POV

Breakfast was fine; you kept it down and that was the goal. 

Following breakfast, you thumbed through the books Nesta had sent to you. The action was lackadaisical and without purpose. You weren’t going to read them. 

You took breaks from staring at the wall to stare out the window instead, but that only sent waves of something heavy through your chest. The skies looked so open today, with only a few clouds and endless rays of sun. Maybe if it were raining, it wouldn’t hurt so much to look out the window. 

You were being left alone far more than usual today. 

Perhaps they had grown tired of being around a stubborn mute who refused to see the bright side of things, the “well, with your injuries it’s a miracle you’re still alive,” talks not entirely working on you. You were sure that was true, but you didn’t particularly care about the marvel it took to put you back together. 

This miracle felt hollow. 

As you were about to shut your eyes and drown the rest of the day in sleep, a small knock and the creak of your door stopped you. You snapped your gaze forward and quickly averted it when you recognized Azriel stepping in, his shadows preceding him and rushing you in circles. 

You expected him to take up his post in the chair beside your bed with a simple greeting—as he had done every visit to your room in the past weeks—so when he stood at the door and spoke, confusion and anxiety filled you. 

“Um, hello,” he began. You watched his hands fumble around each other before he cleared his throat and brought them behind his back. “I realize I haven’t given you a full opportunity to be angry with me. I’ve only offered pleasantries and… well, moved you around. I wanted to speak to you if that’s alright?” 

You fixed your gaze on the wall behind him and twisted your lips to the side in the show of a grimace. 

“You don’t have to say anything back—unless you’d like to. It would just—Can I just sit and talk?” 

You had no idea why he was asking. Everyone else in the House sat in your room and talked your ear off, asking questions they wouldn’t get an answer to and telling you about the happenings in town. Azriel was the only one who stayed silent and, now, was the only one to ask permission to speak. 

Still, you slowly nodded and shifted on the pillows. 

“Does anything hurt?” he began, stepping forward with a hesitant hand reaching towards you. “I could fix—” 

You shook your head. He sat in the chair.

There was a beat of silence—uncomfortable silence, which was odd because Azriel had always been the one you felt most comfortable being quiet around. 

When he spoke, the torture in his voice had you finally whipping around to look at his face, but his gaze was downturned. 

“This is my fault,” he said, strained and cracked as he clasped his hands tightly between his knees. “I know I’ve apologized to you since you woke up, but it’s never really been for that. You have to know how sorry I am, y/n. How much I wish I had just come with you. I always come with you.” 

The muscle in his jaw jumped. “I—I don’t understand why you’d lie about Lucien going with you. Or Cassian, for that matter. I thought it was always obvious that I’d do anything for you—that you were more important to me than a date.” 

Something twisted and pulled inside of you. You were getting the devotion you so desired from him, but it was cast behind a layer of something ugly. You were more important than a date—then why did it hurt as he spoke the words to you?

“I’m sorry that I ever made you feel otherwise. I’m sorry that you felt you had to lie for my benefit. But, y/n, I thought you were dead. I walked into that camp and I heard you scream, and I thought—I thought you were dead when I held you in my arms. There was so much blood and—” 

Azriel’s words choked and stopped in the air. He pressed his hands in prayer over his mouth and when he looked up, he caught you in your stare. You sat paralyzed, wide-eyed, as he looked at you directly. 

“Why did you lie?” he asked weakly. “I would have been there. And I’m sorry I believed you so easily, but we’ve always been honest with each other. You’ve always had me.” 

Your chin trembled. You were tired of crying, but the irony of his words hit you with full force and your wings were gone. Your wings were gone and nothing would ever be the same again. 

Your trembling jaw quickly morphed into the too-quick intake of breath that made your shoulders tremble as well. And then you were heaving in ugly sobs that hurt to let go of. You clutched at the blankets beneath you until your knuckles turned white. 

Why did you lie? 

Why did you—

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” Azriel hushed. He was on the bed now. You hadn’t heard the chair when he got up. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair. He held you at your shoulders and pressed your face into his chest. This was the most anyone had touched you. Madja only healed with brief skims of her hands and everyone else moved you with panicked touches.

“Angel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—” 

When you spoke—for the first time as this new person—your throat made the words unintelligible. Everything was scratchy and hoarse from misuse, but Azriel heard it. He gently pushed you back and found your eyes once more, his gaze wide and encouraging. 

You tried again, and again, each time more coherent but also filled with the tears the Shadowsinger continued to wipe from your cheeks. 

“I didn’t mean to lie,” finally ripped from your chest. “I only—only—” You hiccuped and Azriel’s face crumpled. “I just wanted you to be happy.” 

Azriel’s eyes were already glassy, but when your voice finally rang in his ears, the tears fell. He pressed your face into his chest once more. This time, you brought your hands up to clench his shirt between your fingers. And, because you were already vulnerable and because this was the first time in weeks you no longer felt numb, you whispered out, “My wings are gone,” and Azriel held you tighter. 

~~

You woke to speaking, a voice seeming to rattle in your head. You couldn’t remember falling asleep, only knowing it must have been a productive sleep because you did not feel weighed down. Your back throbbed, as it typically did after sleep, but there was no heaviness at your chest and you felt rested. 

Another voice in the room sounded off, and you kept your eyes shut as you tried to piece together the words. 

“—to walk. Important for her health—too much time—” 

The voice rumbling your head then said, “She might not be ready. We shouldn’t push her.” 

“She will never be ready, Azriel.” Rhysand, you deduced, the conversation in the room becoming more clear. “But, as Madja has said, if we don’t try to get her at least out of this room, she’ll be stuck in her head. Just try to get her to the balcony. Start with that.” 

“Rhysand—” 

“Don’t Rhysand me. It’s almost been three weeks. Her back is nearly healed. That’s not what we’re worried about now.” 

“And what are we worried about?” Azriel bit back. You were on his chest. Hands were on your waist.

The room lulled into a tense pause, the echo of Azriel’s near growl punctuating the silence. 

The door opened and closed, someone’s footfall departing. 

“You’ve scared off our healer, Azriel,” Rhysand noted with a mock scold. Azriel let out a small scoff. “We are all worried about her, Az. I know it feels… maybe like it’s you against the world, but it’s not. We need to get her up and moving. Her headspace isn’t good.” 

Azriel shifted you in his arms. “Fine.” 

“And Madja needs to come back in to change her dressings.” 

Your hair was moved behind your ear. “Fine.” 

Rhysand let out a tortured sigh. 

~~

Azriel’s POV 

Azriel was going to try today. 

He said that yesterday, but yesterday, you had let him coerce you into sitting by the window instead of in bed, and you had talked to him the entire time, so he forgot to bring it up. 

A large part of Azriel was afraid of pushing you—afraid that you would close up again and refuse to look at him. But he knew Rhys and Madja and everyone else in this House was right. You needed to start making progress. You needed to be able to live some semblance of a normal life without your wings. 

It was strange to see you without them. The pit in his chest grew each time you moved to accommodate them. You would shift in bed or reach around to reposition the fantom limb and realization would come before the dread. Sometimes that was it for the day, you wouldn’t speak anymore. Azriel would read to you when that happened. 

You had started to talk to the rest of the circle, which Azriel was mostly glad for, but the smallest bout of protectiveness had somehow dug its way into his heart. When he would walk into your room to find you chatting with Cassian or listening to Rhys, Azriel would have to pause at the territorial feeling that temporarily consumed him. He figured it was only because you were still hurt. That would fade. 

When he came in today, you were alone, and Azriel felt relieved. For a moment. 

You were already awake and looked well-rested, which was detrimental to his plan of asking you while you were half asleep. You set your book down to stare up at him, and even the fact that you were reading was not lost on him. 

You were making progress. This was part of progress.

“Good morning, y/n,” Azriel greeted, standing at the foot of your bed. 

The action already made you nervous. You eyed the chair beside you and glanced back at him. “Hi, Az.” 

Azriel’s lash fluttered at the sound of your voice, still so fresh after weeks of silence. You were meeker than you once sounded, unsure and small. 

Azriel took in a breath before asking, “How’s today?”

“Today is good,” you replied, words slow. 

Azriel spied the remaining badges peeking out from the top of your shirt. You needed this. “I think we should walk today.” 

Silence consumed the room. Your lips parted as you stared at him, and Azriel immediately wanted to eat his words. Another beat of silence. And then another. He tried desperately not to shift weight between his feet lest he look antsy or unsure. 

You blinked, twice, and then stared down at your fingers as they rested in your lap. 

“I know it will be difficult,” Azriel tried, speaking low. “But I’ll be here. We don’t have to go far. A few steps, that’s all I’m asking.” 

You pressed your thumbnail into your palm, brows furrowed. You hadn’t smiled, Azriel realized, not since before. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips before you spoke. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” Azriel asked, bending down to catch your gaze unsuccessfully. 

You blinked back up at him. “Okay, I’ll try.” And then, in a much lower tone, as Azriel walked to your side, you grumbled, “Not as if I could get any lower than I am now.” 

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” you replied, reaching for his outstretched hands. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 

Azriel decided to revisit that later. He wouldn’t pass up this opening you had provided, even though his heart ached at what you’d insinuated. He held your hands in his own and leaned forward as you shifted yourself to the side, your legs hanging off the edge of the bed. 

Already, the disorientation on your face was difficult to stomach. You swayed backward with a pinched expression and your nostrils flared in frustration, but Azriel only held your hands firm and steady. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he comforted, allowing his thumb to brush your knuckle. “Anything hurt?”

You shook your head, your lips pressed in a tight line. Azriel forced himself into your field of vision and nodded, softly counting to three as your eyes darted quickly between both of his. As your legs straightened and Azriel’s hands held you up, you refused to break the connection. Azriel wouldn’t be the one to break it. 

You were shaky on your feet and completely unbalanced, but you were standing, and that was all Azriel could ask for. He gripped your hands tighter as your breathing deepened, the struggle evident on your face. 

“Feel okay?” Azriel asked. 

“No,” you grimaced. “But keep going,” you breathed out. 

“Okay, okay. Start with your right. I won’t let go of you.” 

And you did as he asked, albeit with a small groan and a look up at the ceiling. You abandoned the frustration in favor of staring directly at your feet and white-knuckling the grip on Azriel’s hands as you swayed and brought your right foot forward. The moment you placed it down you wobbled on it and had to right yourself three times, causing one of Azriel’s hands to come around your waist. 

You gritted your teeth but continued with your left foot with some encouragement from Azriel. He stepped back with each step you took forward, his hands glued to your body to correct the mistakes from your core. You made it six steps and Azriel was elated. He let out a small, breathy laugh. 

“You’re incredible,” he deemed. 

And it was so, so small, but the scoff-like laugh you offered was accompanied by a minuscule half-smile, and Azriel was over the moon. You looked up at him, a sarcastic upturn of your eyes lighting them up, and Azriel was struck then. 

Mate. 

Mate. 

It was so obvious, so clear. There was never anything but this. But you. 

You were meant to be his and he yours. Years of this pull to you, and he always thought it to be one of friendship. He’d always loved you, always, but he’d never humored the possibility of anything more. You’d seen him in his teen years. Gods, you’d seen him in his twenties when he was terribly full of himself without the credentials to be so. 

And he’d seen you through the decades of your life as well. 

But everything was so much clearer now. He’d always been protective of you, always been the first to follow you. That was part of why this had been so devastating—he’d let you down, left you alone. For another woman. 

Azriel felt his stomach lurch and then something rotten was left in his mouth. 

His mate—he’d let this happen to his mate. 

And what had he said in the store that day? When you’d asked him what would happen if he’d found his mate?

He’d said it wouldn’t matter, that Elain was bigger than a mating bond. 

Elain.

“Azriel?” Your worried tone snapped him back to the present. To the way your legs shook and your body swayed before him. He quickly scooped you up at your waist and held you close as he walked you back to the bed. 

“That’s enough for today,” he said, tucking you back into the bed. His hands were shaking. “Does anything hurt?”

“Are you okay?” you asked, and when you looked at him with your wide eyes, he was so angry at himself. 

Nothing made sense, but everything did. 

“I’m alright,” he reassured, placing a hand on the top of your head. “We need to take that slow. Your muscles need to be rebuilt along with your balance.” 

He needed to get out of this room. He needed to—

“I promise I’ll be able to do more tomorrow. You’ll… come back tomorrow, right?” 

Something was screaming at him. His shadows. They twisted and struck his ears before coming down to rest gently at your shoulders. 

“Of course I will.” 

~~

Original POV

Azriel did not come back the following day, or the day after that. 

Mor came on the first day, a smile plastered on her concerned face. She held her hands out as Azriel did and got you to walk ten steps before exhaustion made your legs shake. She sat beside your bed and went on and on about some shop in Velaris and you laid back and listened. 

You loved Mor, but it became hard to swallow when she was the one to walk through your door that morning. 

The next day, it was Cassian. 

He grinned and boasted about being the best person on the job, rounding your bed and heaving you up by your hips until you were pressed against his front. Cassian took a different approach to you relearning how to walk, placing your feet on top of his to move as he did. He was joking at first, laughter fresh in his tone, but he got serious as your brow twisted and your body swayed. 

“You got it,” he assured. He stepped back, his hands now just hovering over your hips as you balanced against him. “You’re doing great.” 

You gripped the sleeves of his shirt. “I should know how to walk,” you said through gritted teeth. “I shouldn’t have stayed in bed so long.” 

“You were healing. Resting. No one expected you to hop up and be fine, y/n.” 

“I moped for too long. This wouldn’t be so hard if I had started earlier.” 

“Hey—” 

Frustration had accumulated, building since realizing that you really were only a fraction of yourself, and that was probably why Azriel hadn’t come back. You clenched your teeth once more and pushed from Cassian’s body, finding the ground beneath your feet and ignoring the protest from the Illyrian before you—the one with his wings so tightly pressed to his back that you almost could forget they were there. Almost. 

But the action was short-lived. Cassian grappled for your waist as your body only allowed you two steps forward before you shot backward, an ache permeating down your spine as it tried to accommodate the movement. 

“Cauldron, y/n, warn a guy,” Cassian scolded, stepping you back to sit on the bed. “Did you do this with everyone or am I just special?” 

Frustration burned behind your eyes. You stayed silent as you scrubbed your hand down your face. You couldn’t even fling yourself back against the bed as you wanted, knowing that pain would radiate down your back if you did. 

You couldn’t do anything. The extra time you’d spent with Azriel had created a false sense of… something you needed to let go of. He was pitying you—that was all. You were a broken creature, and he felt responsible. 

“What was that about, huh?” Cassian asked, kneeling before you and looking up below a raised brow. 

“I’m broken,” you admitted, resolute and small. “That’s why Azriel won’t come back, isn’t it? I can’t walk. I’m not how I was. I let this happen to me. I should know how to walk.” 

Cassian’s tongue clicked as his head tilted to the side. “No, y/n, you’re not broken. You didn’t let anything happen to you. This is all—Gods, this is all a fucking mess. But the one thing you can know is that you aren’t broken. And Azriel—he’s dealing with something right now. He’s not avoiding you because you’re broken.” 

You stared back at him, the empty feeling slowly creeping back into your chest. You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded when Cassian gave you an expectant look. You would act as if you believed him, and the following day, when Azriel stepped through your door, maybe it felt a bit easier to lie. 

“Did you handle what you needed to?” you asked him, your hands cemented against his own as he guided you around your room. The words came out strained as your balance faltered. 

Azriel took a moment before responding, “You could say that.” 

“Was it Elain?” You hadn’t meant to ask the question, and the bitterness in your tone was new to even you, but it came out all the same. You avoided Azriel’s gaze as it snapped to your face. 

“Some of it,” he admitted. His eyes burned into you. You stared at your feet as you stepped. “But only some.” 

“How’s that working out for you?” 

“Y/n.” 

You stepped again. And again. It was easier each day, but that also spelled a more difficult future. The further you walked, the sooner you would have to come to terms with your wings being gone. Staying in bed helped you avoid that truth. 

You ignored Azriel’s call and stepped again. 

“Look at me. Please.” 

You shifted your jaw to the side but glanced up through your lashes and gave in to his request. Azriel’s beseeching expression made you falter. 

“I can never apologize fully for not being there that night. With Elain—“ Azriel paused, wincing. “I’ve been blind to what’s important. You tried to tell me. Everyone tried to tell me. I was so caught up in a chance at happiness. It was never about Elain.” 

You had no reply. Your legs were shaking. 

Azriel seemed to take a different approach. “I meant what I said before—that you’re incredible. You’ve pushed yourself so hard and we’re all proud of you.” 

“Is that why you didn’t come back when you said you would?” you asked. The tinge of bitterness remained. “Because you’re proud of me?” 

“I had to—y/n, there were things—“ 

“Just say you’ve been visiting out of pity, Azriel. That would make this easier.” 

You gripped his hands harder as your wave of frustration made walking more difficult. You grunted slightly and Azriel took that as a sign to shift your weight from your feet, holding you to his body even as you struggled against him, even as you averted your gaze. 

Gods, this was better when you kept your mouth shut. 

“I do not pity you. Y/n—y/n. I don’t, do you hear me?” 

“Why?” you stressed, pushing your hands against his chest in a futile escape attempt. “Why, Azriel? Too busy running after Elain to make room for it?” 

“Don’t say that. I already told you—“

“Just let me go.” 

“No.”

“Oh, so now you listen to me.” 

“Y/n—“ 

“This was already humiliating, Azriel. And then you said you’d be back and you weren’t,” you accused. “You got weird when I finally started walking and I know you only came in here because Cassian told you about yesterday.” 

“Yesterday?” he questioned. 

You rolled your eyes. It was so much easier to be angry than hurt. “When I asked about you. I know he can’t keep a secret.” 

Azriel only shook his head. “He hadn’t told me anything. I needed a few days because I’m the weak one. Me. I needed distance because I’m reminded, every time I see you, that I could have prevented this. Im selfish.

“And Elain,” he trailed off, hazel eyes flicking between yours. “I had to tell her that I’ve been a fool. I won’t be pursuing her anymore.” 

Your brows furrowed. You gave up fighting against Azriel, but he kept both of your hands in a grip at his chest, his other arm locked at your lower back. This felt like a weight lifted from your chest, but it wasn’t that easy. None of this was easy. 

“Why?” 

Azriel paused. 

Something flashed across his face, indecipherable to even you, but he covered it just as quickly.

“It wasn’t supposed to be her. I’ve always known that.” 

More silence blanketed the room. Your earlier anger melted into a white-hot embarrassment that lingered in the pit of your stomach. You’d never been one quick to anger. Azriel hadn’t even blinked an eye. 

“Can I help you back to your bed?”

You pressed your lips together. 

“I want to read with you, if that’s alright?” 

Your head turned down. You nodded. 

~~ 

Azriel’s POV 

Azriel couldn’t tell you. 

He couldn’t. 

It was clear that no bond lit up your chest as his did, and that made sense to Azriel. You’d been through a loss few could ever imagine. You were stuck in your head for most of the day, and then angry or numb for the rest of it. The only time you seemed to find reprieve was during conversation that had nothing to do with anything of meaning. 

Azriel would take what he could get. So he read beside you and helped you walk and he didn’t tell you that a bond connected your souls. 

How could he even broach the subject, anyway? When he had so openly pined after another woman? 

This was not the time. 

You needed to focus on yourself. He would focus on you and you would focus on yourself. 

It had been about a month since you began walking again, and two since your injury. He counted each day. On the second week of the third month, Azriel saw you in the hallway. Feyre walked alongside you as you trailed your fingers on the wall, and while it gave the air of a casual stroll, he could see his High Lady’s hand hover behind you. While he took effortful breaths to calm his excitement, his shadows did not. 

“Azriel, what terrible timing!” Feyre scolded, batting away the shadows as they stormed you. “I finally got her out here and you're going to knock her over with air.”

“I apologize,” he spoke, but he wasn’t sorry in the slightest. Despite your unsteady gait, you lit up as his shadows swirled around you, displacing your hair and clothes as you went. And then you laughed; a small sound, but one that Azriel felt in his chest. 

“Call them back,” you giggled. Azriel’s face warmed along with his chest. “I’m going to collapse into this wall if you don’t.” 

“Azriel,” Feyre called, and Azriel hadn’t noticed he was staring. He blinked and shook his head as if to clear it and tried to call his shadows back. And then tried again. 

They were stuck to you. 

“I really am trying,” he explained, taking a step closer. “They seem attached.” 

“I can’t imagine why,” Feyre groaned. She shot the Shadowsinger a look and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, tugging you into her side. “Idiot bats.” 

As the pair walked past him, his shadows still whispering along your arms, you hooked your chin over your shoulder, casting him a lingering gaze. It was odd to see your face with such clarity, no wings clouding his view. Even more odd was the uncomfortable way you walked; the leaning into Feyre’s side was more necessary than for the show. 

The strangest thing, however, was the tug in his chest that left him breathless. Every time you looked at him, that thread in his chest tugged and yanked and begged him to get closer. 

But this wasn’t the time. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be the time for several decades. 

Not after he let you down in such a way. 

He would spend the rest of his life making up for that, even if you were none the wiser to the bond between you. He would protect you for the rest of your life, as he was meant to do from the beginning. That feeling, the urge, only swelled as you turned forward and continued your walk with your High Lady, Azriel still hearing the remnants of your laugh in the hall as you went. 

A shadow broke away from your figure and lopped around his ear, reminding him that he actually did have a destination before he became so enraptured by you. It whispered to him hurriedly and Azriel had to break his gaze from your retreating back as he made his way to Rhysand’s study. Each step had him increasingly irritated; he should have been with you the day you decided to leave your room. 

He bit back his vexation when he felt the tension in the room. 

“Azriel. Good,” Rhysand greeted. The door swung shut. “Sit. We need to talk.” 

“That doesn’t sound promising,” Azriel remarked, shifting his leathers as he took a wide seat on the chair across Rhysand’s desk. 

From the couch beside him, Cassian let out a humorless chuckle. “I think you’ll find this quite promising, brother.” 

“As long as it’s quick. I have other things to attend to today.” 

Cassian sent a wry grin in Rhysand’s direction. “I told you he’d see her in the hall.” He turned back to Azriel. “Packed schedule today, Az?” 

“You know better, Cassian,” Rhysand chided, the lightness in his tone betraying the scolding nature of his words. 

“Is there an actual point to this discussion?” Azriel deadpanned. 

“Bond feeling a little loose?” 

Azriel threw him a dirty look. It hadn’t taken a genius to recognize the change in Azriel the day the bond snapped, his heightened aggression paired with the scent of you still lingering on his clothes had Cassian immediately clocking the Shadowsinger. He’d looked surprised—gaurded and surprised. Rhysand looked as if he’d been the one waiting for the bond to snap, and Azriel had sent him a myriad of questions. 

Namely: Why the hell wouldn’t he tell him he thought you were his mate? 

“Don’t taunt him, Cass.” 

“Where’s the fun in that?” 

“Are we getting to the point?” Azriel drawled. The desire to get back to you itched beneath his skin. Maybe you’d made it to the kitchen and he’d sit at the table beside you. 

Rhysand sighed. He tapped his finger against a piece of parchment laid on the desk. “I have correspondence from the northeast camp. From the spies you have placed there.” 

Azriel sat up in his chair. “Why wouldn’t they speak to me directly?” 

“I had them turn all communication over to me. You’re too close to this and I wouldn’t have you acting rashly and putting yourself in unnecessary danger.” 

“They are my spies—” 

“I didn’t do it to undermine you, Azriel,” Rhysand interrupted, raising a hand in surrender. “You can’t tell me that if you got word her attackers were found you wouldn’t immediately rush into that camp without a plan or even a weapon.” 

Azriel breathed hard from his nose and clenched the wooden chair arms between scarred fingers. 

In the silence, Rhysand continued. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, brother. But you understand why that was a risk I couldn’t take.” 

“What did the correspondence say?” Azriel gritted out, his mood depleted of the lightness you had brought. 

Rhysand eyed Cassian on the other side of the room before fixing his gaze on his Spymaster. “The escaped attackers have been identified. They aren’t contained, and no one even knows where they are, but we know who they are.” 

Fiery rage met Azriel’s soured mood.

If only he knew of the terrors that would continue to fall. 

[prythianpages]

A Light That Never Goes Out | Azriel

Azriel x Rhysand's sister (reader) | The aftermath of Azriel kissing you in front of everyone in the Court of Nightmares.

warnings: angry Rhys, angry High Lord, brief mention of Tamsand, mating bond snapping

word count: roughly 3K, around 3.5K if you read the bonus scene

a/n: This is a part two to this but can be read as a stand alone. I had fun writing this but I worry this sounded better in my head. I was tempted to turn this into a crack fic bc of this trending tiktok sound.

Azriel kisses you, consequences be damned. His hand slides from yours to the nape of your neck, drawing you closer. You kiss him back with the same intensity, years of longing and love pouring into this single moment. Your mind and thoughts tangling with his, the bond between you surging with emotion. Desire and hope. He’s still in disbelief that tonight was the first night he told you he loved you.

But in truth, Azriel had been telling you all along—in every glance, every touch, every kiss that held more than words ever could.

Azriel’s shadows recoil as the two of you pull apart, breathless. The Court of Nightmares had faded away, the two of you lost in each other. It’s just you and him, as it is meant to be…Until the distinctive footsteps of your father approaching echoes throughout the ballroom. Your eyes are wide, too many emotions swirling within their depths. 

But Azriel is relieved that regret is not one of them.

“Azriel.”

The High Lord’s voice is calm and collected but the fury flickering in his violet eyes is unmistakable. He stands no more than two feet away, the authority radiating from him as cold as it is absolute. Beside him, Rhysand watches, his expression unreadable. 

Your father lifts a hand, wisps of darkness and starlight spilling from his fingertips. The orchestra resumes under the silent command and driven by some invisible force, the guests resume dancing and drinking. As if nothing had happened. 

“Come with me,” your father says, his tone leaving no room for argument. His command is directed solely at Azriel. “I’d like to have a word.”

 You try to hold on to Azriel, to keep him close, but he slips his fingers from yours, bowing his head in quiet submission to your father. Without another word, he follows after him. And though his command had been directed solely at Azriel, the weight of the situation falls on the both of you. 

So you step forward, determined to follow after them. But just as you step outside the ballroom, Rhysand grasps your arm, forcing you to a stop.

“You stupid, foolish…,” his voice trails off in frustration. “What have you done?”

You spin on him, eyes flashing with anger as you yank your arm out of his hold. “What have I done? What about what have you done? Planning marriage alliances behind my back? Like I’m some pawn on your chessboard?”

Rhysand’s gaze softens for a brief moment. “Y/n, I–”

“No.” You interrupt sharply, starlight beginning to swirl from the fingertip you point at him. You don’t want to hear his excuse, whatever justification he thinks will make this right. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Cassian and Mor making their way toward you, slipping through the dancing couples and out of the ballroom. 

The starlight seeping from your fingertip glows brighter, ready and poised to attack. However, it’s your words you speak into his mind that make the blow instead.

“You know, if you love that runt from Spring so much, why don’t you marry him yourself?”

Rhysand’s eyes widen, his brows furrowing as the meaning of your words hit him. The revelation that you know his secret. Where he’d sneak off to some nights. Why the scent of crisp rain and earth lingered on him when he’d return. You and Azriel had pieced it together after Cassian had mentioned that his book on Illyrian training and methods suddenly went missing. Given your secret, you and Azriel had kept that information to yourselves, waiting for the moment Rhysand would feel comfortable to tell you himself. 

It takes him a moment to regain his composure, for his gaze to harden again. His lips curl into a snarl–a warning.  “Y/n.”

He leans in forward but you take a step back and winnow away, only one thing on your mind. Finding Azriel.

**

The walk to the High Lord’s private office in the Court of Nightmares is silent but the sense of foreboding is nearly deafening. Azriel is tense, his shadows quiet and burrowing into his leathers. Too many possibilities and consequences storm through his mind, each one more damning than the last.

Does he regret kissing you in front of everyone? No.

That kiss was the first honest, uninhibited thing he’d allowed himself to do in years. It was freeing, exhilarating to be able to show everyone, especially the sons of Spring and Autumn that you were his and he was yours. He could face death for this—for touching the High Lord’s daughter. For kissing you so openly, so brazenly, in front of the entire court.

But why? Why should it be so wrong for him to love you? Because of his birth? The scars of his past that marked him as unworthy? He’s served loyally. Bled for this court.Tortured for this court. 

He’s watched from the shadows as lords and sons, full of false charm, have circled you like vultures, eyeing you as nothing more than a prize to be claimed.  And yet, when he—who knows you, who cherishes you—shows his love, it is considered a crime.

It isn’t fair. But Azriel has never been afforded fairness. 

The heavy doors to the High Lord's office swing open with a wave of his hand, and Azriel steps inside. The air is thick with tension, and every muscle in his body tightens. The High Lord gestures for him to sit, but Azriel bows his head, respectfully declining. Standing feels safer. Less vulnerable. He wonders if his refusal will anger the High Lord further, but the single shadow curling at his ear reports no rising fury.

He can feel the weight of the High Lord’s gaze—it’s heavy, scrutinizing, like the cold press of a blade against his skin. He keeps his eyes forward, even though his heart pounds in his chest. If there’s punishment to be had, Azriel will accept it.

The High Lord moves to his desk, positioned beneath an oculus, where moonlight spills through and dances across his features. He gazes up at the starlit sky as if searching for answers—or perhaps, waiting.

“Normally, this is the part where people like you should be begging for forgiveness, for a way to rectify your mistake.”

Azriel’s jaw tightens. “I haven’t made a mistake.”

“No?” The High Lord’s gaze snaps back to him, piercing as if he could peel away Azriel’s very skin to lay bare his soul. Azriel wonders, for a brief moment, if your daemati powers had been inherited from your father. Could the High Lord see into his mind, his thoughts? Have kept this power to himself all these years as a secret weapon? 

“You sound so sure of yourself,” the High Lord continues, his tone sharpening. “Tell me, how long has this... affair been going on?”

“For decades.” Azriel admits, knowing that there was no use in lying. The truth was already written in the way he kissed you, in the way he looked at you as you broke away from the kiss.

“For decades?” The High Lord repeats, his expression darkening, violet eyes narrowing. “You took my daughter’s first dance tonight of all nights.”

Azriel’s silence says everything. Both of them aware that Azriel had taken more than dances, more than a kiss.

“You’ve taken her innocence. You’ve ruined her…” The High Lord continues to seethe in that cool, unnerving tone.

Azriel’s fingers twitch at his sides, fighting the urge to reach for his dagger. Not to defend himself, but because it’s his only comfort in moments like these.

But this is not a battle to be fought with daggers or swords. This is a battle of love, of politics, of status. One he’s had no training for yet one he’s willing to fight. After all, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d fight against all odds.

“Whether she marries Spring or Autumn, she will become a lady of the highest esteem and forge a strong alliance with my court. Laden with all the riches and wonders only a High Lord can offer. What can you offer? You don’t even have a proper last name to give her, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel swallows thickly, the weight and shame of his low-born status crashing into him like the violent current of Illyria’s river. It feels like he’s sinking under it, drowning in it. He knows he can’t offer you what any son of Spring or Autumn could. He had reminded you of that—again and again. 

It’s as if you can feel his doubts creeping back in, the poison of guilt and worthlessness seeping in. Your presence—soft, warm, and steady—enters his mind. You bring forth the memory you had shared with him moments ago on the dance floor again.

“I can’t give you much,” his voice had dropped to a whisper, barely a rasp as he leaned his forehead against yours. His nose brushed against yours, his lips hovering just over your own. “But I can give you everything I have.”

“That’s all I’ll ever need,” you had replied, the words echoing now in his mind, like an antidote to the venom of doubt. That’s all I’ll ever need, that’s all I’ll ever need, that’s all—

“I asked you a question, Azriel.” The High Lord’s sharp voice cut through the memory, yanking him back to the cold, oppressive reality of the Court of Nightmares. “What can you offer in exchange for my daughter?”

Azriel’s knees buckle beneath him before he even realizes it. He drops to the floor, bowing his head low. His shadows stir, swirling around him in a frenzy, urging him to stand. To stop him.

“My life.”

“Your life,” The High Lord muses. He lets out a dark, humorless chuckle. “You love my daughter enough to give your life for her?”

“Yes,” Azriel says, his voice firm and steady, even as his shadows coil tighter around his arms, trying to pull him back from this path. But he stays rooted to the floor. His life, his soul—it all belongs to you anyway. What was it worth, if not to protect you? To be yours?

The High Lord’s eyes narrow as he studies the swirling shadows, dark and restless, wrapping themselves around Azriel’s form. Shadowsingers are rare. Their power is precious. They can see and hear things others can’t. The only known living one kneels before him now. 

Despite his low born status, the Shadowsinger had also proved himself a formidable, Illyrian warrior. A Carynthian. It’s why he appointed Azriel as the Night Court’s spymaster.  

And now this powerful and strong male is offering his life.

To have a Shadowsinger as his spymaster is rare, a gift in itself. To have Azriel’s loyalty, his strength, his skills bound by magic for life. A weapon of mass destruction, at his beck and call. No room for betrayal, no worry over him leaving his court for another.

 All in exchange for your hand in marriage? 

Now, that sounds like a deal.

He lets out a thoughtful hum, voicing his consideration. He could give Azriel a title, raise him from his bastard status. At his will, darkness begins to rise from the floor. The power of the bargain hovers in the air between them, ready to etch itself into both their skins. 

 Azriel finally lifts his head, meeting the High Lord’s eyes with no fear. Only the light of determination. He is willing to give his life to your father if that’s what it takes to be by your side. 

The cloud of darkness begins to separate, its dark tendrils moving toward him, the binding magic poised to seal his fate, to chain him to this bargain for the rest of his life.

But before it can touch his skin, before the deal can be made, a bright light erupts in the room. A sharp hiss escapes the darkness as it recoils, retreating back into the shadows where it had come from. Azriel’s own shadows seem to shudder in relief.

Both Azriel and the High Lord’s heads snap toward the source of the light. You stand at the doors, your eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears, your hands glowing with pure, raging starlight.

“No!” you cry, the word trembling on your lips as you step forward, the glow around you growing even brighter. 

Your eyes lock with Azriel’s and something tightens in his chest, crawling up his rib cage. It’s sharp and breathtaking. His hand grabs at his chest and yours does the same. 

”He will not be your slave,” you say, turning to your father with the same determination flashing in your eyes. “There has to be another way.”

The High Lord’s features morph into a scowl. “Another way? My star, he is a bastard—”

“I love him!” 

That tightening in his chest finally snaps and Azriel’s breath catches. He feels that light in your eyes, perfectly reflecting the one in his. It sears into his soul, as fierce and unrelenting as the starlight glowing from your hands.

Your father doesn’t notice the shift in the air, the change in Azriel’s posture, in his chest. Or in yours.

“You think that means anything?” 

Azriel’s shadows whisper a warning into his ears, of an oncoming raging darkness. Different but similar to the High Lord’s. He barely hears his shadows, too focused on you, on the bond thrumming between you. His mind is consumed with you. 

Mate. Mate. Mate.

“You and mother—” you begin.

“Do you think your mother and I love each other?” The High Lord interrupts sharply, his voice cold and cutting. He breaks out into a laugh.

Azriel snaps out of his trance. Anger flares within him at the shock, the devastation that takes over your features. He watches as you shrink back slightly, his instincts roaring to protect you from any harm, whether verbal or otherwise. 

Because he’s your mate. Because he loves you.

 “You think I would marry your mother, a low born seamstress by choice? What your mother and I have is different. It’s complicated. A special bond.  One that gave me Rhysand and you and–”

A sound like thunder crashes through the room, reverberating off the stone walls as darkness swells in every corner. One moment, Azriel is on his knees. The next, he’s slamming into the cold marble floor, the force of Rhysand’s power pinning him down. Tendrils of Rhysand’s darkness coil around Azriel’s form, fighting with the shadows that instinctively rise to defend him.

“How long?” Rhysand's violet eyes blaze as they burn into Azriel.

“And I am beginning to think you both are nuisances to my existence rather than gifts...” The High Lord mutters followed by an exhausted sigh.

“How long have you been fucking my sister?” His words are a snarl as he slams Azriel harder into the floor, advancing toward him with clenched fists.

“Rhysand!” You let out a cry, rushing to the two males to separate them.

Your brother whips around, his anger igniting into something fiercer at the sight of you. “Stay out of this!” he snaps, his hand raising. He’s too angry, too heated. So much that he doesn't even notice the force of darkness he aims your way.

Rhysand’s magic hits you hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A choked gasp escapes as you stumble backward, struggling to keep your footing. A burst of bright sapphire explodes from each of Azriel’s siphons, a deep and low growl rumbling from his chest. He breaks free from Rhysand’s magic, standing to his feet. His wings flare behind him, shadows swirling like a storm.

The look in his hazel eyes is nothing short of feral, dark and ancient, a fierce and possessive glint that makes Rhysand falter and surprise flash across the High Lord’s features.

You fall to the ground with a thud, palms scraping against the stone and pain flaring in your hands. Rhysand turns toward you, the anger that had been simmering in his violet gaze immediately dissolving into guilt and regret. “Y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t touch her.” Azriel growls, standing in between you and your brother, his shadows forming in an additional protective barrier. Some shadows flutter toward you, helping you stand and bringing you to Azriel’s side. Your hand instinctively seeks Azriel’s, fingers curling into his and you squeeze it, letting him know you’re alright. 

“By the Cauldron…” the High Lord’s voice comes out in a low murmur, his gaze darting between you and Azriel. His eyes narrow as he finally notices the subtle shift in the air, in your scents. The scent of a bond. 

“You two are mates,” he says, tone laced with resignation. Because even he, a High Lord, is not above going against The Cauldron.

It feels like a punch to the gut for Rhysand. His best friend and his sister. Fate’s inevitable design had been right under his nose all along. “What?” Rhysand breathes in shock, chest still heaving from the exertion of his magic.

Azriel’s hand tightens around yours. His gaze softens as he turns to you, the fierce protectiveness from earlier easing into something gentler. And when your eyes meet again, it’s there—the unmistakable light of the mating bond. It shines bright and steady between you. Just like your love for each other does.

 A light that never goes out.

bonus scene

Once the shock of the bond had worn off, the High Lord excused himself, muttering about damage control. “Spring will be the hardest to deal with,” he had said.

Rhysand’s body tensed as his eyes found yours. But you’d only given him a small, reassuring smile. Though it is something you would like to talk about, his secret would remain safe with you.

Your father would soon announce the bond to the Court of Nightmares, already making plans for a grand mating ceremony. You’d much rather have something private, intimate. But a public celebration seemed like a small price to pay for the lifetime you’d get to spend beside the male you loved.

Rhysand turned his gaze back to Azriel, his expression still unreadable. “You never answered my question,” he said, voice calm but edged with something darker. “How long?”

Azriel hesitated before answering, unlike the way he had with the High Lord. This was his best friend standing in front of him. The one he grew up and trained along with, survived the brutality of the Blood Rite with. Rhysand was like a brother to him and he went behind his back for years.

 “A decade.”

“A decade?” Rhysand blinks in surprise. 

A whole decade of secrecy. Of Azriel sneaking around with his little sister. It all made sense now. Why Azriel became more reserved, more private. Why Azriel no longer indulged himself with the pleasures of the females at Rita’s or the Illyrian camps like he and Cassian did. Why you spent more time at the Moonstone palace, instead of the House of Wind, where you had grown up and been raised by a handful of Priestesses. It hadn’t been to learn about the politics of the courts but to be closer to Azriel.

And then, with no warning, Rhysand swings.

The hit lands squarely on Azriel’s jaw, so swift and unexpected that neither you nor Azriel’s shadows had seen it coming. Azriel takes the blow without protest, silently commanding his shadows to stand their ground and not fight back. 

“Rhys!” you snapped, your brows furrowing into a scowl. 

Rhysand huffs, shaking out his hand from the impact. “That’s for going behind my back,” he says. He pauses for a second and then, he lets out a low chuckle. Full of disbelief and relief.

“I’m still angry at both of you,” Rhysand admits, and Azriel lowers his head, bracing for more. “Not because it’s you—though I’ll admit, seeing you together is... strange. But because you kept it from me for so long, putting both of your lives at risk.”

Then Rhysand’s voice softens, his gaze following. “But I’m glad it’s you.”

Azriel lifts his head back up in surprise as Rhysand holds out his hand.

 “You’re a good male, Azriel. Better than most. And I know you’ll protect her. Love her in a way no one else can.”

Azriel stares at Rhysand’s outstretched hand before finally clasping it, the tension between them easing. Your chest warms at your brother’s sincerity.

The sound of footsteps, heavy and hurried, echo through the stone walls. They grow louder with each passing second and moments later, Cassian and Mor appear at the entrance of your father’s study. Cassian braces himself against the doorframe and Mor leans on him, their chests rising and falling rapidly.

It’s clear they’re winded from the endless stairs they must’ve taken to reach the floor of your father’s private study. It was located between the Court of Nightmares and Moonstone Palace, warded so that only those of his bloodline could winnow directly inside.

Their eyes dart between the three of you. 

“What did we miss?”

a/n: hope you enjoyed! here’s a little HC (idk what to call it?) of Rhys’s sis & Az if you’re curious 💙

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

fic tag: @noisyinfluencerstrawberry, @tothestarsandwhateverend, @tulipbite, @kylaisra, @stressed-reader

[serpentandlily]

Birds of a Feather - Azriel x Reader

Birds of a Feather - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel had been your closest friend, made from the very same things as you—birds of a feather, as they say. But you were not the girl he chose to fall in love with. So all you could do was love your mate in the shadows until the day you died.  

Warnings: angst angst angst

A/n: Inspired by Birds of a Feather by Billie Eilish, but this is a more sad interpretation of the song. Hope you enjoy! (Epilogue HERE)

• ───────────────── •

I want you to stay

'Til I'm in the grave

'Til I rot away, dead and buried

'Til I'm in the casket you carry

• ───────────────── •

A flick of golden brown hair caught your eye as Elain tossed her head back with her lilting laughter. So soft. So beautiful. So charming. You could hardly blame Azriel for being so enraptured by her. To him, she was probably the answer to all his questions, all his insecurities and doubt. To have someone like Elain look at him like that…Well, it seemed like it had healed something in him.

Unfortunately for you, it had done the opposite. It had completely destroyed you. Torn your heart into pieces. Opened new wounds and old wounds. It had shined a light on every single insecurity you felt. Because you had been praying for the day that Azriel would look at you the way he looked at her. But that day had never come and it never would.

You hadn’t been good enough for him. Hadn’t been beautiful enough to catch his attention like Mor and Elain had. Hadn’t been sweet enough to serve as a beacon of light for him. Hadn’t been soft enough to bring him comfort. 

You slipped out of the back door. No one even noticed your disappearance, all too happy in this new little family they had created with all three of the Archeron sisters. 

Tears lined your eyes as you hugged yourself, slowly walking along the Sidra towards your apartment. You had been naive to think you’d ever have a love like Feyre and Rhys or Nesta and Cassian. Azriel had been right that night you’d overheard him in the High Lord’s office.

The Cauldron had gotten it wrong. It had gotten it all so wrong.

Azriel was your mate. He was supposed to love and cherish you. Not her. But he had never looked your way once—not like that. You’d been best friends since the dawn of time, since you had entered each other’s lives. But that was all the companionship he could give you.

On nights like this, you almost wished you had told him about the mating bond when it had snapped for you. But you had hoped and prayed that he would come to love you for you and not for the mating bond. So you never spoke a word of it to anyone and maybe that had been your mistake.  

But you didn’t want a love that only existed because of the mating bond. You wanted a love that felt real and deep—with the mating bond only serving as the cherry on top. You didn’t regret not telling him. But you did regret sticking around to watch him fall in love with another girl. 

It didn’t help that Elain was the opposite of you. She was all sunshine and flowers, soft warm bread and honey. You were a creature of the night. You were the moon and its shadows, cryptic and grim. It was why you thought you and Azriel got along so well. You were made of all the same things. But he had always hated that about himself so really, it shouldn’t have been so surprising that he would look for someone who embodied the opposite. 

It hurt though, it hurt so much. 

You were his equal. You lived in the shadows as much as he did. Your soul was made from the same essence as his. You were birds of a feather. You were companions. He was the only one who understood you completely and you were the only one who saw him and loved him as he was—darkness and all. 

You were supposed to stick together through it all.

But…he hadn’t chosen you. 

You finally made it back to your apartment and hung up your coat before collapsing on your bed and letting the sobs ricochet through the utter silence of your home. 

Alone once again. 

As you always would be.

• ───────────────── •

Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know

I said I'd never think I wasn't better alone

Can't change the weather, might not be forever

But if it's forever, it's even better

• ───────────────── •

All you had wanted to do today was get lost in your book and forget about your own life for a few hours. That was what you had planned, why you were even in the private library at the River House. But of course, the Mother decided to spite you once again.

Azriel sat on the armchair across from you, fiddling with Truth-teller as he ranted about Rhysand for the millionth time. He was still upset about your High Lord telling him to stay away from Elain, even though he had completely ignored those orders anyways. As far as you knew, Rhys hadn’t brought it up again. 

Your jaw was clenched as he brought up Lucien, laminating on how much Elain didn’t want him or the mating bond between them. You blinked away the tears that threatened to come. It almost felt like he was talking about the mating bond between the two of you—the one he still had no idea existed. 

Your heart was pounding in your chest, your stomach tossing and turning. You were so in love with the male sitting before you, so in love with your best friend. And here you were, listening to him talk about another girl the way you wished he’d talk about you. 

You cleared your throat when silence finally overtook the library, your eyes darting to the fireplace that was lacking any light—cold and dusty—the same way you felt inside. 

“Don’t you think…” you started, not looking at Azriel, not sure you wanted to say the words lingering in your throat. 

“Do I think what?” Azriel raised an eyebrow at you. 

You looked away again. 

“I don’t know,” you hesitated before continuing, “Don’t you think that Rhys might actually have a point?” 

You were still focused on the fireplace as you awaited his response with a bated breath. It was the first time you’d addressed his interest in Elain without being positive. But you just had to poke at it once—just once to make sure you were right in keeping the mating bond from him. 

“Oh Gods,” Azriel groaned. “Not you, too.”

“I’m just asking,” you said in your defense. “What if…what if in ten years Elain decides she does actually want to give Lucien a shot? The mating bond—”

“Is godsdamn stupid, is what it is,” Azriel scoffed. “She doesn’t want Lucien, Y/n. She wants me. We want each other. Is that such a bad thing?”

“No, I’m not saying that,” you grimaced, “But what if you find your mate? Would you…would you stay with Elain?” 

“Of course I would,” Azriel answered without missing a beat, digging that dagger into your heart a little more. “I don’t have a mate and even if I did, I would only ever feel sorry for her. For being cursed and shackled to me. At least Elain is choosing me. She is choosing me, Y/n. Over her own mate. If that isn’t love, then what is?” 

“I don’t know, Az.” You swallowed harshly, your throat closing up the further this conversation went on. You wanted to scream and sew your mouth shut at the same time. “Is that what this is? Are you truly in love with her?” 

This was it. The question you had been avoiding for months. And his answer would solidify everything. It would either put the nail in the coffin between the two of you or it would lighten the weight on your shoulders for just a minute—give you a modicum of hope to hang onto. 

“I am,” Azriel snapped, surprising you with his sudden ire. He rose from his seat, his eyes narrowing at you. “What is wrong with you? I thought you cared about me. I thought you were my friend, Y/n, and you’re acting just like Rhysand.” 

You shot up from your seat, eyes wide. “No, Az, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way, I just—”

“No, I get it,” Azriel scoffed, cutting you off. His eyes were ice cold. He had never looked at you like that before. It made your heart pause. “You just want me to continue being miserable. Because that’s always been why the two of us got along so well. Both lonely and so unhappy and now that I’m finally not, you want to drag me back down. Maybe one day someone will love you the way me and Elain love each other. But just because no one does right now, does not mean I have to give up my happiness to keep being miserable with you.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes, your lower lip wobbling. All you wanted was Azriel to be happy. It was another reason why you hadn’t said anything about the mating bond. Because he was happy with Elain and you didn’t want to throw a wrench into that. You hadn’t meant anything by asking him those questions—only wanted a bit of closure for yourself. 

Well, you had gotten closure, all right. Azriel would never choose you. He was right. You were miserable and lonely and heartbroken. Why would he choose you? But you hadn’t expected him to be so harsh. A simple yes would’ve done the same. Tears slipped down your cheeks and the anger from Azriel’s eyes was washed away.

But you didn’t stick around to hear his half-assed apology. You couldn’t. Not when your heart was being ripped apart in your chest, not as bile was rising in your hoarse throat. You dropped your book down on the coffee table before fleeing from the room, ignoring his calls of your name as you left.

• ───────────────── •

But you're so full of shit, 

Tell me it's a bit, 

Say you don't see it, your mind's polluted

Say you wanna quit, don't be stupid

• ───────────────── •

Months went by, all meshing together. You had avoided Azriel since that day in the library. It hurt but being around him hurt even more. It was all you could do to protect your already broken heart. He didn’t reach out to you either, instead all of his attention went to Elain. 

Elain who had finally told Lucien she would never accept their bond. 

And so Azriel and her had finally proclaimed their love to the whole family. A family you felt yourself slipping away from bit by bit. No one even seemed to notice. After all, it had always been you and Azriel hiding away in the shadows—content to observe and love from the corners of the room. 

But now it was just you in that corner, all alone. 

You stopped going to family dinners, stopped hanging around the River House, stopped going to training with the Valkyries. You began to disappear from their lives day by day. You couldn’t bring yourself to stay. Not when your mate was in love with someone else—not as they all started new chapters in their lives and left you behind. 

You had overstayed your welcome. No longer Azriel’s closest friend and confidant. No longer Cassian’s sparring buddy. No longer an extra ear for Rhys to run court decisions by. No longer Mor’s dancing partner or Amren’s pupil to bully. 

You became a shadow of yourself. Sleepless nights led to a lack of energy and focus. Constant tears led to being voiceless. You couldn’t even resort to alcohol because it made the steely barrier you had put up to block out the mating bond come tumbling down, flooding you with all of Azriel’s feelings. Happiness, joy, lust, desire, satiation. 

It was just a reminder that you weren’t the one giving him those things. 

But you couldn’t disappear the way you wanted to. Not when a new war started with Koschei. Despite months of not being around, Rhysand still sent you a notice to come to a meeting to discuss strategy and to inform everyone of new developments. 

You wanted to ignore the summons but the thought of Azriel going into battle again without you around to watch his back nearly sent you spiraling. So you made your way to the River House, eyes on the floor the whole time as you stepped inside and hung up your coat. 

You were about to go up the stairs to get to Rhys’s office when a hand on your shoulder stopped you. You spun around and your breath caught in your throat as you came face to face with Azriel. You took a shaky step away from him, your hand coming up to grip at your chest. The mating bond you had been trying to ignore shoved its way through your defenses—bombarding you with Azriel’s emotions once again. 

His hazel eyes were filled with a bit of guilt and remorse. “Y/n, I was wondering if you were going to show up today. I…I’ve been wanting to talk to you but you haven’t been around much.”

Your mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. You didn’t trust yourself to speak. Azriel hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck before speaking, “I never got to apologize for the things I said to you. It's not an excuse, but Rhys had just laid into me again about Elain before I found you in the library and I took my anger out on you when you were just trying to be a good friend and I am truly sorry for what I said to you. I didn’t mean any of it.” 

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, looking away from him. His words had felt true that day. Besides, what he said to you might’ve been wrong but that didn’t take away from the fact that he was in love with someone else. Regardless of his apology, there was no way you could go back to being his friend. It hurt too much. 

Azriel seemed to be waiting for you to say anything else and his shoulders deflated a bit when he realized you weren’t going to. He gave you a weak smile before summoning something from his shadows. An envelope. He held it out for you to grab. You took it from him with a questioning look. 

“It’s an invitation,” Azriel explained. “Me and Elain are getting married. I wanted to deliver this to you in person. It would mean a lot to have you there, Y/n.” 

You stared at the envelope in your hand. 

Stared and stared and stared. 

Even throughout the whole meeting with the Inner Circle, all you could do was stare at that godsdamn envelope. Because inside of it was the last piece of your broken heart, smashed and weeping. Azriel was getting married…and not to you. To her. 

So when Rhys announced his plans of attack for Koschei and how he needed someone to act as bait for the Death God, you were the first to volunteer because you truly had nothing left to lose. 

• ───────────────── •

And I don't know what I'm crying for

I don't think I could love you more

Might not be long, but baby, I

Don't wanna say goodbye

• ───────────────── •

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit up front with the rest of us?” Feyre asked.

You looked up at her from your seat in the very back of the temple, shaking your head. You gave her a blank look. “No, it’s all right. I’m fine back here. You know I don’t like that attention of sitting near the High Lord and Lady.” 

Feyre gave you an understanding nod. “Okay, but you will sit with us at the reception. I’m not taking no for an answer.” 

You nodded to appease her, knowing you had no intentions of staying past the ceremony. You were only here for one reason—because Azriel had asked you to be here and you could never say no to him. So here you sat, your chest empty and your eyes sore from the tears you spilled last night. 

This wedding felt more like a funeral to you and in some ways, it was. You were saying goodbye to a future you could’ve had with your mate, giving up the final piece of yourself for his sake, and getting to watch him be happy and free, such a bittersweet feeling. All you had ever wished was that he could be happy with you but that was just a dream—that’s all it would ever be. 

Elain looked so beautiful in her wedding gown, as she always did. 

Azriel’s eyes lit up the moment she came through the doorway, striding down the aisle to him. He held out his hand for her, helping her up the steps to stand before him. They didn’t look away from each other for a single moment during the ceremony. He was so in love with her. So in love with her and not you…never you. 

The whole room was bursting with joy but not you. You were happy for him, of course. But you couldn’t help but feel that ache in your chest and everything that came with it. The hurt, the jealousy, the grief. 

Had he even really wanted you here or had it been a pity invite? It didn’t matter because he took no notice of anyone but Elain. So when the ceremony ended and everyone began to make their way to the reception, you slinked into the shadows and disappeared once again. 

• ───────────────── •

I'll love you 'til the day that I die

'Til the day that I die

'Til the light leaves my eyes

'Til the day that I die

• ───────────────── •

The battle was over. Koschei had been defeated. You had gone through with serving as the bait for this plan to work. It had cost so much to finally take him down. So many lives, so much power. And you. It had cost you everything. 

You were dying. Slowly.

But you knew this was the end for you.

Even if you could be saved, you didn’t want to be.

You wanted to let death embrace you in his cold arms.

You wanted to leave behind this life finally.

Everyone was still cheering and hugging with relief when you stumbled back into the war camp. You pressed a hand against the deep wound in your stomach, blood bubbling through the cracks in your fingers as you passed by everyone—no one taking notice of you or your severely injured state.

Not until you made it to the main tent where the rest of the Inner Circle had begun to celebrate the victory. 

It was Feyre who noticed you first, her gasp alerting the rest of them to your presence. But you were only looking at Azriel as you stumbled into the tent, barely making it past the threshold before you crumbled to the ground. You choked on the blood filling up your mouth, some of it trickling out of your lips. 

Azriel shouted your name, pushing Cassian out of his way to get to you. He knelt before you, eyes wide with panic as he grasped your shoulders. In the background, you could faintly hear Rhysand shouting for a healer but you knew it was too late for that. 

You weakly smiled up at Azriel. This is what you wanted. To just see him one last time. To let his face be the last thing you see before death came to take you. You reached a hand out, letting your fingertips brush against his jaw. 

It took you being gravely injured for the mating bond to finally snap in place for him. You knew the minute he realized. The mating bond hummed in your chest but its song was so quiet now…so, so quiet. 

It was slowly fraying as your life dimmed. 

“Mate,” Azriel choked out in a whisper, his hand resting on your cheek. His eyes were still full of panic. “You’re…You’re my mate.” 

You nodded, coughing again and more blood slipped out of your lips and down your chin. Azriel shouted frantically for a healer before focusing on you again, his eyes searching yours. “You knew?” 

You nodded again, your body sagging in his hold. He let out a panicked cry and pulled you into his lap. “How long? How long have you known?” 

“A while,” you managed to croak, your fingers raising to caress his jaw again. 

Azriel stared at you in horror as he shouted again for a healer. You could hear the pounding of feet and other panicked whispers but you tuned it all out. You just wanted to go peacefully. No screaming, no cries. Just you and Azriel for the last second of your life. 

“Why?” he cried out, wiping one of your tears away. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“You…were…happy,” you struggled to get out, your eyes closing with the effort. Azriel shook your body, tears filling up in his eyes.

“No, stay awake, Y/n, you have to stay awake,” Azriel pleaded with you. “The healer is almost here, okay. Just stay awake a little longer.” 

“I-It’s…okay,” you mumbled. “Want…want to go.” 

You coughed again, blood splatting your face. Azriel released a cry that nearly caused the ground to shake. “No, you can’t. You can’t go. You’re my mate, Y/n. You can’t do this to me!” 

“I’ll find…you…again,” you slurred out. “Maybe…maybe I’ll be…good enough….then.” 

You blinked once, your vision blurry but you could see Azriel’s beautiful face. Gods, he was so beautiful. He was screaming something but your hearing went along with your vision, slowly worsening until finally, your heart stopped beating in your chest. 

And with that, the pain was finally gone. 

• ───────────────── •

I knew you in another life

You had that same look in your eyes

I love you, don't act so surprised

• ───────────────── •

Epilogue

[azrielbrainrot]

The First Light of Dawn

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Somnophilia

Description: The bond threatens to drive both you and Azriel insane.

Warnings: Smut, somnophilia, fingering, oral sex, dub con (except it's not because they totally discussed this before)

Word Count: ~1,6k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: I feel obligated to say that you should only try something like this with someone who you trust and with prior consent and that you can take it back anytime. Hope you enjoy!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

There wasn't much Azriel loved more than flying over Velaris after a long mission, feeling the breeze hit his face and his sore muscles as he watched the city shining below, always reminding himself why he works so hard to protect it. Today's mission had been a mostly routine affair, one he didn't even have to leave his shadows for, but he still felt particularly exhausted after it.

His brothers had warned him multiple times that the bond could be hard to deal with at times, especially when it was as fresh as yours, but he always thought they were exaggerating, - your bond had brought him nothing but happiness after all. The Mother proved him wrong today though. Azriel was gone for barely a full day and while he was supposed to be focusing on his target all he could think about was how much he missed you. He could almost hear the bond in his chest screaming at him to go and find you, to hold you in his arms and never let go.

Even now it was trying to guide his body in the direction of your house on the other side of the river, making him have to almost fight with himself to keep flying to the townhouse. The sun wasn't even close to rising and you had worked all day as well, he wouldn't disturb your sleep just because the bond was so annoyingly irrational. Azriel contemplates waking Rhys or Cassian up so they could spar with him and help him release some of the tension clinging to his body, but that would be proving them right, something he was unwilling to do no matter the cost.

At last, he lands on his balcony with a soft thud, a sigh escaping him at the familiar sight, sending his shadows scattering around the room so they could relax as well. The bond had been so loud all day, that he thought he was imagining smelling your scent in the air, already setting his weapons down on their respective spots in his dresser when his body locked up as he heard soft breathing behind him.

Turning around slowly, Azriel couldn't even believe his eyes when he saw you sleeping soundly under the covers. His shadows climbed up his body immediately, giddily letting him know that not only was he not dreaming, but his pretty little mate had also been missing him all day, crawling up into his bed so she'd be surrounded by his scent.

His tired body awakens at the sight, walking closer to the bed slowly so he didn't wake you up, unable to keep away. A smile breaks out on his lips when he reaches you, pushing some of the hair out of your face so he could place a soft kiss on your forehead, scarred thumb caressing your cheek softly. Gods, you were so perfect.

Just when he thought the bond would finally calm down, it starts spreading a different kind of heat over his body, your scent assaulting all of his senses the longer he breathes it in. His hand trails down to your neck, pushing the covers down a bit as he goes, a whimper almost escaping him when he finds you were wearing one of his shirts, and nothing else from the looks of it.

His body moves before he even realizes what he was doing, pushing the covers off your body completely, exposing you to his hungry gsze, hazel eyes tracing every bit of exposed skin, taking note of how his shirt although too big on you, had ridden up enough to let him know you were truly only wearing it and nothing else.

With the bond purring inside him and his shadows whispering just how much you've missed him, Azriel turns your body over carefully, laying you on your back as he sits on the bed beside you, hands caressing your legs softly. You sigh in your sleep when his hands spread your thighs apart, but show no sign of waking up. Your scent, deepened with arousal hits his nose in full force, a groan echoing around the room. It seems you really did miss him.

Azriel wastes no time in lifting the shirt up to your neck, making a sound in the back of his throat as your entrancing body is revealed to his eyes, biting down on his lip as your nipples started hardening under his gaze. He leans down to drop a kiss between your breasts, closing his eyes and breathing you in, feeling your heart beating under his lips for a moment. Gods, what was he doing? His body shows him the answer right away as he starts trailing wet kisses down your torso, biting and then soothing the skin with his tongue as he goes, a primal hunger rising within him.

He sits up suddenly when he reaches your navel, letting out a growl as he sheds any remaining piece of restraint that threatened to stop him. Your chest was rising and falling faster now, mouth agape as puffs of air escaped past your delicious lips. He knew he'd find you soaked even before his fingers met your cunt, easily sliding one and then two inside you carefully.

Azriel watches his fingers almost like he was in a trance, almost purring at the noises they made as he moved them in and out of you, your wetness dripping down his palm. Your body knew his touch well, whether you were awake or sleeping, sucking in his fingers greedily, almost begging him to keep going and take what was his.

A wicked idea comes to his mind, taking his fingers out and adjusting your body carefully so he could lay down between your legs, throwing your legs over his shoulders and lining his face up with your dripping cunt. He wanted to see how long it'd take you to wake up, if he could make you cum before you did.

Hands holding onto your waist, Azriel licks a broad stripe up your cunt before diving right in, moaning against you as your taste overwrites all of his senses. He almost forgets himself and the situation, getting lost in your taste, your scent and the feeling of your soft skin under his hands. Azriel grabbed at your thighs, massaging the flesh with his hands, moving back and forth up to your chest, playing with your nipples as best as he could given the angle. His hips start grinding down onto the mattress, his cock throbbing under his leathers as he feasts on you. He couldn't get enough of you, he probably would never get enough.

The Spymaster is so focused on your cunt, that he fails to notice your breaths coming out faster, your body trembling under his, and your eyes blinking awake, confused by the sudden rush of pleasure, moans of your own echoing around the room. It's only when your fingers tangle in his hair and you call out his name in question that he realizes you have woken up, moaning against you, the vibrations sending a shudder running through your overheated body.

It doesn't take long for you to fall apart on his tongue, cumming around him beautifully as soon as he starts pumping one of his fingers back into your cunt while his mouth abused your clit. Azriel laps up your release, only pulling away when your body is shaking too much and your hands start pushing at his head, struggling to breathe through the unexpected pleasure he was giving you.

Kissing his way up your body, lingering for a moment over your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth, and then over your neck, marking it up with his teeth, he softens when he gets to your jaw, sweetly kissing your face before his lips fall over yours at last, your hands moving to hold the back of his neck to keep him in place, tasting yourself on his mouth.

“You're a heavy sleeper,” he whispers against your lips when you pull away, unable to resist licking over your bottom lip once.

“I think you're just too good at being sneaky, Spymaster,” your murmur, voice still heavy with sleep and still breathy from the mind numbing orgasm, legs still trembling softly at his sides.

Azriel hums, taking your lips between his own again, hands still caressing your skin, coaxing the sweetest gasp from you, one he gladly swallowed, his body fitting over yours perfectly.

“I missed you,” he murmurs, leaning his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as the bond finally gives him a moment of rest. “Couldn't stop thinking about you all day.”

“Me too.”

His shadows had already told him as much but it still warmed his heart to hear the confession coming directly from your lips, a content smile widening on his lips.

“Were you waiting for me?”

“Yes,” you admit, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I couldn't sleep without you.” Leaning up to peck his lips as he purrs at your words. He's convinced he could live forever in your arms.

Azriel starts feeling sneaky fingers tugging at the straps holding his leathers together, leaning away so he can watch your face adoringly as you unbuckle them expertly without ever looking away from him and still blinking away the sleepiness in your eyes.

“What are you doing, my love?”

“It's only fair I get to play with you too, don't you think?”

[olive-main]

Hi, hope you’re well! Saw your request for angst ideas. If you’re interested: Reader has been part of the Inner Circle for years, like an og member. Post war she watches Az fall in love with Elaine or Gwyn. She’s known they’re mates, but he’s always told her he loves her as a friend, and nobody else knows they’re mates. She watches as his relationship grows, maybe they’re having a kid or whatever, this can be all the angst you see fit. She’s finally had enough and decides to leave (either for work as an emissary or for herself). Maybe as she starts to rebuild, Az and the IC realize how much her loss impacts them. But when they go see her, she’s thriving. Ending can be whatever floats your boat, maybe she’s with Eris or thriving in Day as Lucien’s advisor, or something else all together.

To Love and Let Go

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: An unrequited love, and a one sided mating bond. What will reader do when she can no longer watch Azriel fall for another female who isn’t her?

Wc: 2.9k (gah dayum)

A/N: ok, this is the longggest fic I've written to date, but I don't hate it...and I may be persuaded to write a part two with multiple endings bcs I'm indecisive asf. Requests are still open and highly encouraged since I'm on break and have a bunch of free time, clearly.

Masterlist

__

The stars are mocking tonight, their gleam far too bright for the storm brewing inside you. Velaris has always been beautiful, but tonight the city feels suffocating. The laughter of your family echoes around the River House’s dining room, filling the space with warmth and joy.

You sit at the edge of the long table, wine in hand, your smile carefully in place. Cassian is in the middle of one of his stories, something about Azriel and a drunken spar decades ago. The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but glance at him.

Azriel sits across from you, his shoulders relaxed, his shadows soft and relaxed as they curl lazily around him. He’s laughing—quiet and rare, but enough to tug at your chest in a way you’ve never been able to stop.

Beside him, Gwyn is radiant. She laughs, bright and genuine, her hand resting on his arm as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand shifts, fingers brushing over hers in a way that’s intimate, tender. Simple. Devastating.

You lift your wine to your lips and down the rest of the glass in one burning gulp.

You’ve known for years that Azriel isn’t yours to have. When the Cauldron whispered of your bond, it hadn’t been the joyous revelation you’d dreamed of. Instead, it had been a curse.

You feel it even now—that golden thread tying your soul to his, pulling taut every time you see him. But Azriel never acknowledged it, not once. How could he when he didn't even know it existed?

“You’re my best friend,” he’d told you long ago, sitting beside you on a rooftop in Velaris, the two of you cloaked in silence and shadows. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And you’d smiled. Smiled and tucked the truth deeper inside yourself, burying it so far down you almost convinced yourself it wasn’t real. Almost.

The conversation shifts around you, but the words blur together, distant and unimportant. You force yourself to stay, to laugh when you’re supposed to, to nod in all the right places.

Across the table, Gwyn leans closer to Azriel, whispering something in his ear. He smiles at her, that soft, secret smile you’ve seen so many times over the years. But it’s never been for you.

The ache in your chest spreads, sharp and relentless, until you can’t bear it any longer. You push your chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor.

“Everything okay?” Mor asks, her brows furrowing as she studies you.

You nod quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Just need some air.”

No one questions you, and you’re grateful for it. You slip out of the room and onto the balcony, the cool night air rushing to meet you. The stars stretch endlessly above, and for a moment, you close your eyes and pretend this life isn’t yours.

But the bond hums faintly in the back of your mind, tethering you to someone who will never feel the same way.

—

You grip the balcony railing, the cool metal grounding you as you draw in a shaky breath. The quiet should feel peaceful, but it doesn’t. Not with the sound of their laughter spilling through the open door behind you, not with the bond thrumming painfully in the back of your mind.

You’ve endured this for years. Watching Azriel laugh, fight, live, all while pretending your heart doesn’t shatter every time he smiles at someone who isn’t you. Gwyn. Elain before her, and Mor long before that. All the women who could never feel what you feel for him—but were lucky enough to have his attention anyway.

And then there’s you, his best friend. The one he trusts, confides in, leans on. Just never in the way you ache for. Even before the bond snapped, you’d been in love with the Shadowsinger. He was always the calm amongst the chaos of your family, the one you could seek refuge in.

The sound of footsteps interrupts your thoughts. You don’t need to look to know it’s him. His shadows reach you first, curling gently around your wrist, hesitant and curious. They always do that, as if they sense the things he doesn’t.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice is soft, warm in a way that makes it harder to breathe.

You release the railing and turn to face him, your mask firmly in place. “I’m fine. Just needed a moment.”

His brows pull together, his hazel eyes studying you in that unrelenting way of his. “You’ve seemed… distracted tonight.”

You force a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not distracted. Just tired, that’s all.” The lie was easy on your tongue, a lie you’ve repeated more times than you can count.

His shadows shift, curling tighter around you. “You can tell me if something’s wrong,” he says, his voice low, careful.

You want to laugh again. Wrong? Everything is wrong. Your mate is standing in front of you, looking at you with concern while his love sits inside, waiting for him. He doesn’t even feel the bond that’s been tearing you apart for years. How could you possibly tell him the truth?

“I’m fine, Az,” you say again, stepping back, putting distance between you. “Go back inside. Gwyn’s probably wondering where you are.”

Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone before you can place it. He hesitates, his shadows brushing against your hand one last time before retreating.

“All right,” he says quietly. But he doesn’t look convinced.

You watch him go, his wings casting long shadows across the balcony as he disappears into the house. The bond hums faintly, pulling at your heart even as you stand there alone.

—

A part of you wants to blame yourself for never telling him about the mating bond. It was known Azriel always longed for a mate, so much so he had made the bold claim of Elain being his mate once upon a time. Now, he's with Gwyn under that same notion. Unfortunately, your heart had wanted him to love you without the influence of the bond.

Your thoughts persist as you force your eyes shut, trying and failing to fall asleep.

Instead, you lie awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of it all presses down on you. You’ve built your entire life around the Inner Circle, around him. And for what? To watch him build a life with someone else? To keep breaking your own heart over and over again?

No.

When dawn comes, the decision is already made.

—

“Are you sure about this?” Feyre asks, her hand resting lightly on your arm.

You stand in the foyer of the River House, your bags already packed and waiting by the door. The soft morning light filters through the windows, casting golden hues over everything. It should feel warm. Comforting. But all you feel is the ache of goodbye.

“I’m sure,” you say, and your voice doesn’t waver.

Rhysand stands a few paces away, arms crossed, his violet eyes sharp and assessing. You were like a sister to him, someone he’d protected and seen through every phase of life. “You don’t have to do this,” he says gently. “We can figure something out. If you need time off, time for yourself—”

“I need more than time, Rhys,” you interrupt, forcing a small smile to soften the blow. “I need space. A fresh start. This is the right move for me.”

You’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times, carefully framing your departure as a professional opportunity. An emissary position in Day Court. Helion had been eager to accept your offer, praising your skills and promising a new challenge that you could sink your teeth into.

It wasn’t a lie. You would thrive in Day Court. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Feyre’s grip on your arm tightens, her lips pressing together as if she’s holding back an argument. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you’re running away,” she says softly.

You glance past her, your eyes catching on the open archway leading to the dining room. You can feel him in there, his shadows faint even from this distance. The bond pulls, a sharp tug against your ribs.

“I’m not running away,” you tell her, even though part of you wonders if that’s exactly what this is. “I’m choosing myself for once.”

Rhys nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “If that’s what you need, then we support you. Always.”

A lump rises in your throat, but you swallow it down, turning to hug Feyre. “Thank you. For everything.”

—

Azriel watches from the shadows of the dining room as you leave. He doesn’t mean to linger there, doesn’t mean to eavesdrop—but he can’t help it.

He hears Feyre’s quiet goodbye, Rhys’s reassurances. He sees the way your shoulders straighten as you step out the door, as if you’re carrying a weight none of them can understand.

Something twists in his chest, sharp and unfamiliar.

He doesn’t understand it. You’ve left Velaris before, gone on missions and trips for weeks at a time. But this feels… different. Permanent.

For a moment, he almost steps forward, almost calls out to you. But then the door closes, and you’re gone.

—

The Day Court is a world apart from Velaris.

Here, the sun always seems to shine, casting a golden glow over Helion’s sprawling palace. It’s vibrant, full of life, and for the first time in years, you feel as though you can finally breathe.

Helion welcomes you with open arms, praising your work and throwing you headfirst into new projects. The days are busy, your nights peaceful, and slowly—very slowly—the ache in your chest begins to fade.

You make new allies and friends. Lucien, especially, becomes an unexpected source of comfort. He understands unspoken bonds, the pain of being tied to someone who doesn’t want you. For the first few weeks, most, if not all your time was spent by his side.

“You’re free now,” he tells you one evening, the two of you sitting on a balcony overlooking the Day Court gardens. His amber eyes glint in the fading sunlight. “It doesn’t feel like it yet, but it will. One day.”

You smile, a real smile, and let the words settle in your chest.

—

Back in Velaris, the Inner Circle feels the void you’ve left behind. Cassian complains loudly during training sessions about how things don’t run as smoothly without you. Mor keeps suggesting trips to Day Court, half-joking but half-serious. Even Feyre finds herself reaching for you during meetings, only to realize you’re no longer there.

And Azriel…

Azriel notices most of all.

He misses the quiet way you steadied him, the way you always seemed to know what he needed before he did. The balance you brought to the group. To him.

At first, he tells himself it’s just an adjustment. You’ll be back eventually. But as the weeks stretch into months, he begins to realize just how deeply your absence has cut into his life.

The shadow of the bond hums faintly in the back of his mind, but he doesn’t understand why.

Not yet.

—

It’s Feyre who suggests the trip.

“You’ve been working too hard,” she tells Azriel, shooting him with a look that leaves no room for argument. “We all have. A visit to Day Court will do us some good. Besides, it’s been too long since we’ve seen her.”

Azriel hesitates but eventually agrees. He tells himself it’s curiosity, that he just wants to see how you’re settling in. Since you’ve left his relationship with everyone, Gywn especially, has grown distant. He tries to find you in her, comparing the small things that shouldn’t matter—and every time it only makes his heart sink.

When they arrive, they find you in the Day Court gardens, laughing at something Lucien has said. The sunlight catches in your hair, your face glowing with a happiness Azriel hasn’t seen in years.

The gardens are breathtaking, a vibrant sprawl of golden blooms and gleaming fountains that seem to echo the brilliance of the sun overhead. But Azriel doesn’t see any of it.

His focus is entirely on you.

You look radiant, the golden hues of Day Court seeming to highlight the confidence you’ve gained in your time away.

Lucien leans closer, his expression soft yet intent, and the sight makes something dark and ugly twist in Azriel’s chest. It’s not the first time he’s seen Lucien or been jealous of the male, but this—this—feels different. He used to feel that pang of jealousy when he blindly pined for Elain, now with you it returned with a greater force.

He doesn’t understand why these feelings have suddenly spread through him. You’ve always been his friend. His anchor. But as Lucien reaches out to brush a stray hair from your face, Azriel feels like he’s watching something slip through his fingers.

“Az?” Feyre’s voice pulls him back. She’s watching him with careful eyes, her brow furrowing.

He shakes his head and straightens his posture, forcing his expression back into neutral territory. “I’m fine.” But he isn’t.

Before Feyre can press him further, Lucien notices their approach and gives a low whistle. “Well, well. Velaris sends its finest.” His tone is teasing, but there’s warmth in his amber eyes as they flick toward you.

You turn, and when your gaze lands on Azriel, your smile falters. It’s a subtle shift, but he sees it. Feels it.

“Rhysand. Feyre. Azriel,” you greet, inclining your head slightly, your voice polite but distant. As if they were strangers and not the family you chose all those centuries ago.

He hates it.

The reunion is cordial at first, filled with pleasantries and talk of work. Lucien stands close to you, his presence steady, his hand occasionally brushing yours in a way that grounds you. Azriel’s shadows stir restlessly, but he forces them into submission.

“You’ve done well here,” Feyre says warmly, her gaze sweeping over the garden. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Your smile is genuine, though it doesn’t quite reach Azriel. “Helion has been… generous with his trust.”

“And with his emissary’s time,” Lucien adds, grinning at you. “She’s a natural. Can’t imagine how Day Court managed before she arrived.”

The praise makes you duck your head slightly, a faint blush blooming across your cheeks. Azriel’s jaw tightens.

“Sounds like you’ve been keeping busy,” he says, his voice lower than usual.

Your eyes flick to him briefly before turning back to Lucien, but there’s something guarded in your expression. “I have. It’s been… fulfilling.”

The word stings more than it should.

—

Eventually, Feyre and Rhys drift away with Lucien, leaving you and Azriel alone amidst the golden flowers. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words.

“You’ve been… different,” he says finally, breaking the silence.

You glance at him, your arms folding across your chest. “Different how?”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “Happier,” he admits.

The softness in his voice almost makes you falter, but you stand your ground. “I am,” you say simply.

His shadows curl around his feet, agitated. “You left so suddenly,” he says, his tone sharper now. “One day you were there, and the next you were… gone. No warning. No explanation.”

You raise an eyebrow, bitterness creeping into your voice. “I told you I needed space. I told all of you.” You pause for a second, staring at a cluster of white lilies. “Why does it matter now, Azriel?”

“Because I miss you,” he says, the words raw and unguarded. “We all do. But me… I—” He stops himself, jaw clenching.

You laugh softly, but it’s a hollow, bitter sound. “You miss me now? After I’ve finally started to find peace? After you’ve built a life with Gwyn?”

His shadows surge forward, brushing against your arm, but you shake them off. “Don’t do this, Azriel.”

“You’re my friend,” he says, and the words make your heart twist painfully.

You whirl to face him, your eyes blazing. “No. I was never just your friend, Azriel. I was your mate.”

The truth spills out before you can stop it, sharp and cutting. He freezes, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.

“What?” His voice is barely a whisper.

You laugh again, a broken sound. “The Cauldron tied us together centuries ago, but you never felt it, did you? You never even noticed.”

His shadows pull back, retreating like they’ve been burned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter!” you snap, your voice rising. “You didn’t want me that way, Azriel. You never did. And I wasn’t about to force something on you that you didn’t feel.”

He stares at you, his usually stoic face cracking with something raw and uncertain. “I—”

But you shake your head, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve moved on.”

“You’ve moved on?” he echoes, his gaze flicking toward the direction Lucien went. His voice lowers, dangerous. “With him?”

“Yes,” you say firmly, though the word feels heavy. “Because he sees me, Azriel. He knows what it’s like to be unwanted. To feel second-best.”

The words are a dagger between you, and you can see the way they strike him, the way his shadows twist and writhe.

“Is that what you think?” he asks quietly, his voice breaking. “That you were second-best?”

Your throat tightens, but you refuse to back down. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The bond hums faintly in your chest, but it’s different now—fading, unraveling as you finally let go of the male who could never love you the way you deserved.

“I’m happy here,” you say softly, your voice steady. “And you… you have Gwyn. You have your life in Velaris. Let that be enough.”

Azriel doesn’t argue. He just stands there, his shadows a chaotic storm around him, as you turn and walk away.

This time, you don’t look back.

Aaannd scene XOXO ~

[assriels]

honeyed temptations

pairing: azriel x reader 

word count: 2.2k

warnings: some smut and suggestive language (mdni 18+ only pls!!), swearing, azriel is whipped for u but is also very stubborn, domesticity/fluff

summary: despite azriel’s relative indifference to most things, he absolutely, undeniably hates the heat. and fucking loves when you wear sundresses.

a/n: continuation of my ongoing headcanon that azriel is actually kind of a stubborn baby, especially with his mate; i have a summer oneshot for cassian coming out soon! <3

masterlist

banners by @/cafekitsune <3

Azriel was fucking furious. It was like the sun had a personal vendetta against him, determined to steal any and all comfort from him as he baked in the hot morning sun in your shared bedroom.

Peak summer in Velaris was nothing to scoff at. Though the Night Court was hailed for the beauty of its moon and stars, the same could not be said for its seasons. It was a solar court and that meant that its moon waxed and waned through the full dearth of the seasons. And summer just so happened to be Azriel’s least favorite. 

Though he could handle the strikingly cold winters the Night Court had to offer — it snowed quite heavily in Illyria, afterall — the heat of the summer was unbearably oppressive. It didn’t help that his current residence was the House of Wind, built high on a mountain cliff where the heat rose and was entirely too close to the sun. Not even the House’s breeze helped staunch his somewhat over exaggerated agitation at the rising temperatures. 

It was still morning, but it seemed that the sun had decided that it would be especially insufferable today, showboating its prowess even at 9 in the morning. 

“C’mon Az,” you implored, gentle hand poking his bare shoulder. “Rhys is here, we have a meeting.” 

He pouted at you from where he was sprawled out on the bed, not having bothered to get up — or put clothes on — despite having been awake for an hour now. He rolled onto his side to get a better look at you, hoping that if he pouted enough you’d have mercy on him and let him stay naked and as cool as possible; the thought of putting on clothes — most of which he owned were black — made Azriel’s head ache. 

“‘s too hot.” 

You huffed a laugh at his childlike petulance. Who would have guessed the feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court couldn’t handle a little heat? 

“You’re being a baby,” you chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed as you attempted to negotiate with your mate to get out of bed. 

It was then that he took stock of your appearance. You had always been much less bothered by the heat than he was — and much more functional in it — and so your morning routines were never disrupted. You had already bathed and gotten ready, pretty little sundress skimming your curves as the hem tickled the skin on your legs. 

“You look nice,” Azriel noted with a hum of appreciation. Ordinarily, he would’ve reached over and pulled you on top of him to make both of you late for Rhys’s meeting for an entirely different reason, but he couldn’t fathom getting any more sticky and sweaty than he already was, so he resisted. Instead, he opted for toying with the hem of your dress in contemplation.

“Is this new?” He asked, taking in the sweet honey yellow linen and thin straps. You nodded your head and smoothed your hands down your front, fixing the neckline of your dress in a way that had Azriel’s eyes burning holes through your skin. 

“Do you like it? I bought it when I went out with Feyre the other day.” You intentionally left out that you had bought it with the explicit purpose of using it to tempt your mate out of bed, knowing that he always needed a little bit of incentive in the summer. 

Assessing hazel eyes tracked the familiar planes of your body, face lit with an entirely different kind of heat now, “Yeah, I like it.” 

His gaze lifted to yours and you nearly gave into him. The adoration in his eyes and the blush high on the apples of his cheeks was mesmerizing, “You’re very pretty, you know.” 

Azriel’s unfiltered affections for you always made your heart beat quicken, and your attention shifted to his hand resting comfortably on your thigh, thumb drawing innocent circles on your skin. You bent over to kiss him briefly in thanks before patting his hand and getting up off the bed. 

You could’ve sworn you heard Azriel whine in protest, but it was drowned out by the sound of you sifting through the dresser, no doubt searching for clothes to throw his way.

He watched you from his spot on the bed, eyeing the way the hem of your dress billowed from your waist and just barely covered the curve of your ass. He was convinced that he could stare at you for an eternity and still find new parts of you to marvel at. 

Before he could get too lost in his greedy appreciation of your beauty and the stunning way your dress complimented every curve and dip of your body, you were tossing clothes at his face.

“Stop staring and get dressed!” You laughed, “You know Cass is gonna give you shit for being late. Again.”

It was no secret to those closest to Azriel that he was an absolute terror when the summer rolled around. Though it only took a week or two for him to adjust and become begrudgingly functional again, the days leading up to his revival were always a source of great amusement to the Inner Circle. Ah, the perfect Shadowsinger finally reveals his flaws, Cassian would consistently tease.

He only groaned in response, rolling onto his back once again to stare at the ceiling. 

You sighed. Truthfully, you found this side of him endearing – and quite funny – but you knew he had a job to do and nothing would get done unless he was, at the very least, clothed. Sauntering over to the bed, you looked down at him with your hands on your hips. You were met only with a stubborn look in return; you could’ve sworn you glimpsed the ghost of a defiant smirk curving his lips, “Make me.”

You reeled at his challenge. Fine, you would make him. 

The bed shifted as you straddled him on all fours, careful not to let any part of you touch any part of him. His hands came up instinctively to grasp your hips as he didn’t even try to hide his triumphant smile. But you wouldn’t let him get away with it, at least not now.

You encircled his wrists in your hands, guiding them above his head to pin them to the pillow. Both of you knew he could easily wriggle out of your grasp, but Azriel was aware that this was riling you up just as much as him so he conceded. Allowed his beautiful mate to do whatever she pleased.

“Don’t touch,” you commanded in his ear, punctuating your words with a slow swirl of your tongue along the shell of his ear. “If you listen, I promise I’ll be so, so good for you.”

Unexpected emotion flooded his chest as he resisted the urge to break the tension with his affection for you. You were already so good for him. In more ways than he could have ever wanted, more ways than he ever imagined. But he kept his mouth shut, and focused only on the way he could feel the hem of your dress kissing his skin as your mouth nipped at sucked at all the places that drove him insane. 

“C’mon, Az,” you cooed, licking a sinful path up his neck before you blew on his skin, reveling in the way goosebumps rose on his flesh despite the sweltering weather. “Get up for me, huh?”

He didn’t miss the double entendre as you tracked a scathing wet trail down his body, your tongue — frustratingly — the only part of you touching him. He was being difficult and you were making him pay for it by teasing him in ways only you knew how to. Azriel groaned low and deep when your cool breath hit right beneath his bellybutton, abs flexing as he willed himself to maintain his composure. You still weren’t touching him, and he was already embarrassingly hard, body desperate to feel your skin on his. 

His brow furrowed with concentration and lust as he met your gaze right before your lips puckered and you took the head of his cock – pretty and swollen and throbbing just for you – into your mouth. Azriel’s head flopped back onto his pillow as he loosed a long, deep breath, a cross between a sigh and a moan so pleasing to hear that you nearly forgot your initial intentions. 

One well placed stroke of your tongue had your eyes meeting his yet again, all dark pupils and a thin ring of gorgeous hazel. You were the picture of perfect seduction, pretty lips split open on his cock, bent over him in such a way that gave him an unobstructed view of your cleavage beneath your dress. You released him with a sinfully wet pop! as you pulled back and smiled at him, sweet and teasing before you blew gently on his tip. Azriel shuddered.

Oh, Mother above. He was milliseconds away from flipping you onto your back and tearing your godsforsaken dress right off you — or maybe he’d keep it on — but you were faster, jumping just out of his reach and off the bed, as if you hadn’t just addled his mind with fantasies of all the ways he could fuck you in that dress. 

The wicked smirk of satisfaction curving your lips told him that you’d had your intended effect. Azriel was barely able to recalibrate his bearings in time for him to notice you heading towards the door. He sputtered in disbelief, “Where are you going?”

Before you traipsed out the bedroom door, you turned back to look at him, “To be continued, mate. After you get dressed.”

When you shut the door behind you, Azriel could have sworn he heard your giddy, maniacal laughter echo in time to the sound of your footsteps down the stairs. Now he had two problems: 1) he was still hot as the fires of Hell and 2) he was achingly hard and knew he’d have to make a concerted effort not to look too long at you in that dress all day if he wanted to cling to what little composure he had.

He sighed as his shadows swirled around his ears, barely offering any reprieve from the heat. 

Pretty mate. So, so pretty. Everyone thinks so. 

Make that three problems: 3) Cassian would be making innocent comments about you looking so good in that dress just to irritate him. 

The possession roiling around in his gut – courtesy of the mating bond – was his final straw as he scrubbed a frustrated hand down his face. Fucking fine, he would put the damn clothes on. 

☾𖤓 epilogue ☾𖤓

“Where’s that overgrown child you call a mate, anyway?” Cassian quipped after you made your appearance in the dining room for breakfast. 

“Exactly where you think he is,” you laughed over a bite of toast.

“What’s wrong with Azriel?” Feyre implored innocently, “Is he not feeling well?” 

Rhys chuckled and shook his head, “Azriel is not very fond of the summer—“

“That’s an understatement,” you and Cassian mumbled under your breaths in tandem.

“—and it’s a nightmare getting him to do anything in heat like this. But luckily we have Y/N.”

Before your High Lady could ask the question on the tip of her tongue, Cassian stole a piece of bacon off your plate, ignoring the way you protested, “I mean, you’ve seen how whipped he is Feyre. He’ll do anything if Y/N even suggests she wants him to. Az only gets out of bed in the summer because she asks.”

In retribution for your stolen bacon, you speared the rest of Cassian’s eggs and forked them into your mouth before he could inch away from you. You didn’t respond, knowing all too well that Azriel actually would not get out of bed even if you asked, leaving you to resort to other…tactics. 

“I’m not a child, you know.” Came Azriel’s petulant interruption as he greeted you with a brief kiss to your head and the rest of his family with a grunt of acknowledgement, “I can do things on my own, in case you forgot.”

“We’ll stop calling you one, once you stop acting like it,” Cassian taunted.

Azriel’s scoff was his only response as he sat down next to you at the table, plating two pieces of bacon in front of you to replace the one he knew Cassian had no doubt probably taken. You smiled up at him gratefully, and despite the still sweltering heat that had only seemed to have gotten worse as time progressed, he smiled back. 

Feyre was in awe; it was like the heat had melted away his stony exterior, leaving the real Azriel exposed for everyone to see. Feyre met your gaze across the table, a mischievous glint in her eyes that told you she was more than privy to the extraneous measures you had taken to coax your mate out of bed.

“How do you do it?” Cassian not-so-quietly whispered to you. 

“I have my ways,” you responded cryptically with a smirk as Azriel’s hand ventured beneath the hem of your dress, squeezing your thigh.

You would most definitely be paying for your little shenanigan in the bedroom later.  

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 1

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Koschei the Deathless Sorcerer was killed by the Spymaster of the Night Court. 

It was less dramatic than it sounded. At least Azriel thought so. 

And if Lucien hadn’t been a fucking idiot and put himself into a position to be kidnapped by the very same deathless sorcerer…then they wouldn’t even have been in that kind of situation. 

But he had been and so it ended with Azriel so magically exhausted that he collapsed the very same moment Truthteller stroke true once more. 

At least Koschei was slayn. 

And the only reason Azriel had gone to rescue the red-headed male in the first place was the fact that  Lucien was Elaine’s mate. Lucien was the male Elain loved. Azriel couldn’t let him die. 

Couldn’t let Elain feel the devastation of a mating bond broken by death…so his decision making had been quick. Either he would manage to get Lucien free…or he would die trying.  There wasn’t many things that he wouldn’t do for the female he loved. Even when he knew it shouldn’t be. 

Azriel had never been very good at knowing when enough was enough after all, wasn’t he?

No price was high enough to pay when it was about Elain’s happiness, as far as Azriel was concerned.  

He hadn't expected to wake up, and yet… there he was. Alive and whole.

*I hope it was worth it, Master,* the shadows sniped at him.

He blinked, taking in the dim light of the room, taking in the familiar surroundings. His room in the House of Wind.

“You are a fucking idiot, you know?” Cassian hissed at him from his place at his bedside and Azriel blinked at him.

"Lucien?" he brought out hoarsely.

"Not as much as a fucking scratch on him. Thanks to you," Cassian responded. "You on the other hand...Madja thought you were going to fucking die from pure magical exhaustion!"

Even Azriel he had...it would have been worth it. Lucien had made it out alive - and that was all that mattered in the end. Elain would be happy. That was all he cared about.

He didn't say that aloud though. 

He took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. "How long was I out?" he asked.

"Three days," Cassian growled. "Three. Days."

Azriel sat up slowly, wincing at the ache in his muscles. It felt like his entire body was one giant bruise, every inch of him pained and sore.

"Lay back down," Cassian snapped.

Azriel shot him a glare, but sank back onto the bed nonetheless. "I'm fine," he grumbled. "Just tired."

"Yeah, well, we'll let Madja be the judge of that," Cassian snapped. "And when you are feeling better, I am going to kill you for going off on your own!"

Azriel just gave him a weary look. "Better me than you," he said dryly. He closed his eyes, feeling a deep exhaustion settle over him. Cassian had Nesta to think about. Azriel didn't. Azriel just had himself.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?!" Cassian demanded.

Azriel didn't have the energy to answer

He dosed off, feeling the shadows twine around him. They were muttering, words he could c quite understand, bitching under their breath but for once it was comforting.

He woke up, feeling groggy and disoriented. His eyes felt like sandpaper, and his limbs were heavy. He groggily blinked at the room, feeling like he was in a haze.

It took him a moment to realize he wasn't alone. Cassian was still there, as was Madja.

Azriel groaned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. His head was throbbing, and his vision was a little blurred. He rubbed his face, trying to clear the fog from his mind. "Hey," he said, his voice rough and gravelly.

Cassian and Madja both looked at him, their expressions relieved. "How are you feeling?" Madja asked him, moving closer to the bed and waving a hand in front of his face.

"Like I was hit by a wagon," Azriel admitted. His muscles felt tight and sore, his body heavy with fatigue. His wings felt like they were made of lead, and every movement took a huge effort.

"That's unsurprising considering you nearly magicked yourself to death," Madja said gruffly. "Your body had a tremendous amount of stress and strain put on it. You're lucky to be alive."

He gritted his teeth. "Yeah, well, I didn't have a lot of other options," he pointed out.

Madja just let out a huff and began prodding and poking at his body, running her hands over his wings and checking his pulse. Cassian watched anxiously from the side, his arms crossed over his chest.

Azriel bore her ministrations in silence, trying not to wince as she poked and prodded at him. He knew she was just trying to help, but it didn't make the ordeal any more pleasant.

After what felt like forever, she finally stepped back, nodding to herself. "You're lucky, shadowsinger," she said gruffly. "You're lucky you're so damn resilient," she said, and he couldn't tell if it was a compliment or just an observation.

He looked at her blearily. "I guess I can add that to my list of things to be proud of," he muttered sarcastically.

Cassian barked out a laugh, but Madja just rolled her eyes. The door opened at that moment. "How's he doing?" Rhys demanded.

Azriel wanted to let out a sigh at the sight of Rhys. He loved his brother, but he didn't have the energy for a lecture right now.

Madja turned to Rhys. "He's weak and he's stupid," she snapped. "But he's alive."

Rhys let out a sigh, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. "Thank you, Madja," he said. "Would you...give us a moment?"

Madja nodded, patting Azriel's leg as she got up to leave. "Rest," she ordered. "And no strenuous activity for at least a week."

As soon as the door closed behind her, Rhys turned to Azriel. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, his eyes blazing.

"I was thinking that I was saving Lucien's life," Azriel replied evenly, meeting his brother's gaze. "I couldn't let him die, Rhys."

"Wouldn't that have made it easier for you?* Rhys demanded sharply mentally. *You are the one that fancies himself in love with Elain.*

Maybe it shouldn't hurt him as much as it did. He didn't fancy himself in love with her. He was in love with her. Had been in love with her and Rhys had been the one to order him away from her, which had given Lucien the opportunity to swoop in and Elain had...Elain had given in. Given in to that Siren Song of the Mating Bond and was very much in love with her mate now. 

It hurt to hear Rhys say it like that, like it was just some passing infatuation that he'd gotten over.

*Lucien is her mate,* he responded simply. He didn't say what he really thought. He didn't say that he would rather have Elain be happy and never talk with him again than to have her wilt like one of her flowers because her mate had died and the mating bond would be broken… He didn't say that he loved Elain enough, that her happiness was more important to him than anything else. He didn't say any of that.

*At least you are recognising that now,* Rhys said with a snort.  Azriel didn't flinch. Didn't react.

He hid away in that little corner of his brain he went to when everything became too much. Where he could just shut up all his feelings, all these pesky emotions, and just be...nothing. Nothing. That's the only thing he still had left.

He just shrugged, schooling his face into a careless expression. "I did what I had to do, Rhys," he repeated stubbornly. "Lucien is a good male. He didn't deserve to die."

"Elain wants to thank you," Rhys said suddenly.

Azriel's stomach twisted as Rhys mentioned Elain. He felt a pang of longing in his chest, a desperate ache to see her, to touch her, to hear her voice. But he knew he couldn't. He couldn't subject himself to the torture of seeing her with her mate, seeing her happy in Lucien's arms.

So his answer was definite: "There is no need for that," he said simply.

Rhys gave him a sharp look. "Don't be an idiot," he said gruffly. "She's been worried sick about you."

But Azriel just shook his head, even as his heart thudded in his chest.

*You can keep it together for 5 minutes,* Rhys snapped into his mind.

"Rhys," Cassian said carefully. "If he doesn't want to, just let it..."

"He's being ridiculous," Rhys snapped, interrupting Cassian. "Elain is family.”

Azriel grit his teeth but didn't respond. He didn't have the energy for an argument right now. He just wanted to sleep.

*See her for 5 minute snad then you can sulk like a spoiled child until you feel better about yourself,* Rhys bargained drily.

Azriel hesitated. He knew he should see her, knew that it would make things easier for everyone if he did. But the thought of seeing her, seeing her happy with Lucien when he was so miserable, was like a knife to the gut.

"Does it even matter what I want?" he asked, his voice flat.

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, looking at him with exasperation. "Az, stop being so damned stubborn. Elain has been worried sick about you - the least you can do is let her see that you are alive."

Azriel didn't say anything. Didn't respond. He just stared at Rhys, feeling like every fiber of his being was being pulled apart. He wanted to see her. Wanted to see her more than anything. But he knew that once he saw her, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together. He would break. He would shatter into a thousand pieces.

"Just...come on, Az," Rhys said finally. "Let her see you. She needs to know you're alright."

Azriel knew he couldn't say no. Knew he couldn't hurt her like that. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Fine," he said softly. "But just for five minutes."

Five minutes. He could do five minutes. He had to. For her…

She was still as achingly beautiful as she always had been. These devasting brown eyes, the caramel curls...

Azriel's breath hitched at the sight of her, and he felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over him. Love, longing, sadness, and that bittersweet pang of being so close to something he could never have.

Behave, Rhys warned him sharply.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Trying to push back that wave of feelings that threatened to drown him. It was just five minutes, he reminded himself. Five minutes. He could do this.

The shadows swirled around him, welling up with intensity, shrouding much of his body in inky blackness and Elain flinched back from them.

She had never quite warmed up to them. Azriel was just thankful for that display, for keeping her away from him as she entered the room, Lucien on her heels.

"How...How are you feeling?" she asked him, her voice soft.

He could tell that she was worried, that she was concerned for him. It warmed something inside him, and he hated himself for it. 

"I'm fine," Azriel answered hoarsely.  "Just tired.

"I...thank you," Elain said softly, binting her lip. "If you hadn't...if you hadn't killed Koschei and freed Lucien...I...Thank you, Azriel."

Hearing her say his name again was like a punch to the gut. It was both a comfort and a torture, to be so close to her and yet so far away. He swallowed hard, biting back the words that threatened to spill out.

"You don't owe me any thanks," he said quietly. "I just did what had to be done."

"I do owe you my life," Lucien disagreed. "Thank you. Without your interference...I wouln't have survived, " he said flatly.

Azriel just shrugged, feeling a wave of bitterness wash over him. He had saved Lucien, had risked his life to save the male who was mated to the female he loved. It was a strange sort of irony.

"It's fine," he said roughly. "I'm just glad I got there in time."

He couldn't look at her. Couldn't look at Lucien. It hurt too much. So he stared at the floor, willing the shadows to consume him entirely.

"We are all just happy you are feeling alright," Elain said softly. "I...I was worried about you. Everyone was."

Azriel forced himself to look up at her, his heart clenching at the sincerity in her eyes. She really had been worried about him. "I'm alright," he promised her, his voice rough. "Really. I just need some rest."

Elain hesitated, taking a step forward. He could hear her heartbeat, could feel the warmth radiating off her skin. It was torture to be so close to her and yet so far away. It was torture to know that she was so close and yet so unattainable. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to hold her, but he knew he couldn't. He held onto that last shred of reason he had.

She tugged a piece of hair behind one delicately arched ear...and that was the moment he saw the gold and pearl ring that decorated her ring finger.

"Congratulations." He wasn't sure how he even brought out these words...how he managed to make them sound...appropriately happy for her.

It took a herculean effort to say those words, to offer a smile that barely reached his eyes. Every fibre of his being was screaming in protest, yelling that he should have been the one giving her that ring, that he should have been the one by her side. But he pushed back those feelings, burying them deep down inside of himself. He couldn't let her see how he truly felt. He couldn't let her know how much it was tearing him apart to stand there and look at her. Look at her with her mate, with the male she loved, the one she had chosen. 

"Congratulation," he repeated, his voice a little rougher than before.

"It wouldn't have been possible without you," Elain said, with a smile.

Azriel just nodded, feeling a lump in his throat. He couldn't find the words to respond, couldn't find the words to express the tangle of emotions swirling inside of him. He just sat there, feeling more alone and isolated than he had in a long time.

Elain took another step in his direction, seemingly ready to reach out, but Cassian intercepted her. placing a gentle hand on Elain's shoulder. "He needs his rest," he said softly. "Let's leave him be for now."

Azriel felt a pang of gratitude towards Cassian. Elain hesitated, looking torn.

"I wish you every happiness," Azriel brought out his voice hoarsely. Not even a lie.  It was the frank truth in these words and Elain gave him a smile, before Lucien's hand came to rest at her lower back, guiding her out of the room.

Thank the cauldron. They were gone. 

He slumped back into the pillow.  He was falling apart. He was exhausted, emotionally and physically. He just wanted to be left alone, to lick his wounds in peace.

"Az..." Cassian said carefully, but he cut him off.

“I am tired,” Azriel said, his voice hoarse. “I need to sleep.”

The shadows swirled around him tighter. 

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a look, before Cassian nodded, "Alright," he said. "Get some rest."

He laid down properly, closing his eyes, calling the shadows to him wordlessly. They swamred around him immediately. Damn Near suffocating him.  It was the only thing that kept him from starting to sob.

The shadows embraced him, wrapping him in their inky blackness, shielding him from the outside world. They were his only comfort, just like they had been for centuries. 

*We are there, Master.* They promised him softly. *It will be fine, Master.*

He didn’t believe a fucking word they said. 

*We are not willing to lose you, Master. We aren’t interested in finding a new master,* they told him seriously. He choked out a laugh that turned into a sob. 

*Sleep, Master. We'll keep watch,* they promised him.

And they did. 

Bone deep exhaustion meant that at least his sleep was dreamless. At least that was given to him. It was a small mercy. 

When he woke up again, Nesta was there, sitting in an armchair reading.

Azriel blinked, feeling disoriented and groggy. He sat up slowly, wincing as his wounds protested the movement. Nesta looked up from her book, her expression neutral.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him quietly.

"Fine," he answered, his voice hoarse. He was fine. He would be fine. 

"Thank you," Nesta said suddenly.

Azriel looked up at her, surprised. He wasn't even sure what she was thanking him for.

"For what?" he asked, his voice rough with sleep.

“You nearly got yourself killed to save my sister’s mate. I think Thank you is the least I owe you," Nesta said drily.

She mustered him with grey eyes and he knew that she knew. Knew that she knew or at the very least could guess about his feelings for Elain and probably be right. She wouldn't say anything, but she knew.

He didn’t want to talk about this anymore. It was over with. Done. 

Lucien and Elain could be happy and Azriel…Azriel would hide away somewhere. 

"You don't owe me anything," he waved Nesta off weakly, but she didn’t seem to want to take the hint, sticking out her chin. 

"Yes, I do," Nesta disagreed. "You are the reason why my little sister is happy right now," she told him fiercely. He swallowed down the unkind words at the tip of her tongue...didn't say anything. Didn't.... He didn’t want to think about this. He didn’t…

"Is there anything I can do?" Nesta asked him, her voice soft. "Anything at all, Az?" H knew that he could ask for anything and Nesta would do her level best to give it to him. She was stubborn like that. He had half a mind to ask her to use her silver flames to put him on fire and put him out of his misery. 

He didn’t. 

Even that wouldn’t fix it. 

There was nothing. There was absolutely nothing to make it any better. There was nothing that could...that could fix the ache in his chest.

"Porridge," he said, his voice hoarse.

"Porridge?" Nesta repeated incrediously.

"Porridge with honey. I am hungry," he repeated, meeting her gaze. Food. Food. More Sleep. More Work. He could fill his waking hours with useless things and everybody would be happy. 

Nesta just looked at him for a moment, then inclined her head.

"Porridge with honey. Alright," she agreed. Just a moment later a massive bowl of Porridge with honey drizzled on top, appeared on his bedside table, so hot it was steaming. Seemed like the house was in a mood to spoil him. He even got a whiff of cinnamon from it.

"Thank you," he thanked Nesta's creature aloud as the shadows fetched the bowl and held it up for him to eat a spoonful. "What are you reading?" he asked Nesta, changing the topic. 

She was polite enough not to say anything about it. 

Nesta held up her book. “The newest Sellyn Drake novel,” she replied.

"Is it any good?" he inquired, stirring his porridge gently.

“It’s brilliant," Nesta gushed, her eyes devoured the pages as soon as she looked down to continue reading.

"You seem to really like it," he pointed out, taking another bite of his porridge. "It is brilliant," Nesta agreed readily. “The plot is so intricate and twists and turns and the characters are so deep and complex and their emotions are so real and the romance is so...” she trailed off, blushing slightly.

He opened his mouth to respond...but then he heard her.

Mor. Of course.

He couldn’t deal with Mor. Not right now. But there she was, Rhys hot on her heels.

Nesta heard her too, rolling her eyes, curling back up on her chair, making it very clear that while she was going nowhere, she was letting him deal with it on her own. 

And he didn’t want to deal with Mor. 

But there she was. 

Mor came strolling into the room, her usual confident smile firmly in place. Rhys just looked at Azriel, his expression unreadable.

He didn't say it.  But Azriel knew. Behave. That’s all Rhys was telling him these days.  Either it was about Elain and Lucien...or about Mor and Emerie. Like Azriel would ever do anything to put that in jeopardy. Like Azriel was a jealous child that wouldn't allow Mor to be happy on her own terms. Like...

Azriel ignored the sharp pang of hurt that shot through him at Rhys's look.

Still it was better than looking at Mor…he couldn’t bear to look at Mor. 

 Didn't want to look at Mor, in her usual bright red, skin baring dress, that clung to all her curves...didn't want to look at the female he had spent centuries in love with even when he had known that she was never going to return his affections...it hadn't helped him. He had still been in love with her.

And he had still hoped...hoped against all hope that maybe...maybe there would be a time where she would return his affection...that maybe there would be a time where...

But there wouldn't. He knew. He knew. And he had still been in love with her.

Would have given damn near anything for her attention, for that broad smile on her face to be directed in his direction...would have given anything for her to bound over to his bedside and envelope him in her arms...to feel her soft skin against his as she hugged him fiercely, cinnamon and citrus enveloping him.

Now...now it felt like somebody was pouring salt into a gaping wound. Now it felt as painful as the fire and oil on his hands had. She was flaying him alive and she wasn’t even aware that she was hurting him. 

"How are you feeling, Az?" Mor's voice was gentle, concerned. He knew it was genuine, knew that Mor really cared about him. But he couldn't bring himself to look at her. Not when his heart was bleeding out just from the sound of her voice.

"Fine," he answered, his voice flat. "Nothing that sleep won't fix," he promised her, even as her hands fluttered around him as she sat down on his bedside...

She was so close. He could reach out and touch her, could feel the soft fabric of her dress against his fingertips. He clenched his fists, willing himself to keep his hands to himself.

But he couldn't help it. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. He could see the concern there, the worry. He felt a pang of guilt for putting that look on her face. He didn't want to cause her any distress. 

"I'm just glad you are feeling better," Mor sighed, gently patting his arm. "You had us all worried for a moment there," she admitted softly.

Even just the touch of her hand felt like she was branding him. He wanted to flinch away and forced himself no to.

It was like a bittersweet poison, the way she touched him. It was so familiar, so comforting. But it was also so painful, a reminder of what he could never have.

He looked away, staring down at his hands. They were shaking, just a little. He clasped them together, the monstrous scars that covered them, standing out starkly.

The shadows trembled around him, pulling nearer, growing darker and Mor watched them with a raised eyebrow. "Worried, are they?" she teased him slightly.

*You are fine, Master,* the shadows promised him. *No more fire,* they promised him fiercely. But it didn’t help. He didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice cracking.

Mor seemed to sense his discomfort and stood up, her hand slipping from his arm. "Just rest and get better soon, alright?" she said softly, taking a step back.

"Thank you," he thanked her, his voice hoarse.

He risked a glance up at her, just a quick look. Her face was soft, her eyes filled with warmth. He felt his heart squeeze in his chest and he had to look away again. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"We should let him rest, Mor," Rhys said, giving Azriel another look.

"Right, right," Mor agreed, already turning towards the door. "Rest up, Az," she said again, giving him one last smile as she disappeared out the door.

Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as she left the room. 

Gone. Thank the cauldron. He couldn't take much more of her presence, not right now. 

He didn't even want to know why Rhys had accompanied her. Probably because he was worried that Azriel wasn't going to behave.

What was he supposed to do instead? Tell Mor about how much she had hurt him over the centuries? How she had given him jut enough scraps of her affection to make him yearn for more but never telling him that she didn’t love him like that? 

He wasn’t going to do that. 

He didn't want to look at Rhys right now, didn't want to face the scrutiny of his high lord's gaze. He just wanted to be left alone.

He knew that Rhys was watching him, that the male wanted to say something. But Azriel didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear the lecture, the warning. He just wanted to be left alone.

The room fell silent, except for the sound of his own breathing. He closed his eyes and sank deeper into the mattress. Maybe if he just pretended to sleep, Rhys would leave him alone.

"He's tired. You should let him sleep," Nesta said flatly.

Leave it to Nesta to tell Rhys to stuff it, he reflected weakly. He heard Rhys sigh, but he kept his eyes closed. And after a moment, he heard the sound of footsteps leaving the room.

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, feeling a wave of relief wash over him. 

Alone. Safe. Mostly at least. 

Life went on. It always did.

The exhaustion went away after a few days... he caught up on Paperwork in the meantime. He sent the shadows off to find him one information or other and they didn't even bitch to him that badly, which told him that even they felt bad for him.

Behave. That’s all Rhys was telling him these days.

So he did. He behaved.

He did his job. He did everything Rhys could possibly want from his spymaster. 

He didn’t argue. He didn’t fight. He did his job and he trained and he did everyhting that was expected off him. 

And then he hadn’t tortured himself enough… and he went to visit Rosehall.

Where his mother lived.

Under the Mountains had it’s own kind consequences. This was one of them: His mother didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. 

50 years without him...and his mother had made herself a new family. A family that he wasn’t welcome in. A family that she wanted him nowhere near. He couldn’t fault her for it. Not at all.

She had been half a child when she had had him and it hadn’t been by choice.

So who could blame her for making a new family with people that weren’t as fucked up in the head as he was? Not Azriel.

Azriel didn’t blame her at all. Azriel left her in peace. He didn't reach out. He made sure that she was fine, that she had enough money to never worry about it and otherwise dissappeared from her life. 

His shadows kept an eye on her…He shored up the wards around Rosehall and caught a glimpse of her. And then he left it at that. She looked happy. That’s all he cared about.

Happy and safe and…she didn’t need him. She didn’t want him around her either, and he could understand that too.

And still, it hurt. It hurt so fucking much. 

But 

*You know the rules,* he told the shadows quietly. *You don’t need to report to me about her anymore. Keep an eye on her and only tell me if she is in danger or hurt.*

*Yes, Master,* they agreed readily. 

So he went back to the House of Wind. Back to Velaris…Back to work. 

He went back to his routine, back to his duties, back to his mask of indifference. He hid the pain behind his usual stoic facade, only letting his shadows know how much it hurt. He threw himself into his work, using it as a way to distract himself from his own loneliness.

And when he wasn't working, he would spend hours and hours in the training ring in the House of Wind, working himself to exhaustion. Anything to try and drown out the ache in his heart.

For gods sake, he even attended Elain and Lucien’s mating ceremony. And gifted them an appropriate gift. He behaved just like Rhys wanted him too.

He even summoned up a smile for them on their special day, hiding his own pain behind a mask of false happiness. He congratulated them both, feeling a pang in his chest at the sight of Elain's beaming face. But he didn’t let it show. He behaved. Like Rhys wanted him too.

He stayed for the whole thing. Stayed for the dancing, stayed for the feast. Stayed until he could physically take it no more. And then he had retreated to that training ring again, beating his pain and loneliness out on whatever dummy he could find.

He was so tired. Tired of hiding, tired of pretending. Tired of pretending like nothing was wrong. He wanted nothing more than to just scream and rage and shout and cry. But he didn’t. He held it all in. Bottled it up like he was so good at doing.

He was in the bathtub, sluicing off the sweat he was drenched in…shaking off his wings just because he could move them however he wanted to

*You should go out, Master,* the shadows suggested seriously. *Go out and find a female.*

He just snorted. *Not interested,* he sniped back harshly. *I am not getting my heart broken again.*

Everybody could just fuck off and leave him alone. Even when he was aching…aching for somebody in his life that loved him. For whom he could be everything. Somebody he could dote on. Somebody that wanted his attention, that wanted his love…that would like his ruined hands on their body and wasn’t paid to simply acccept it. 

*You could let us pick her!* the shadows suggested brightly.

His eyes snapped back open and he glared at the shadows swirling around the room. *Absolutely not,* he said firmly. *I mean it, you stay out of it.*

*We can’t do a worse job than you do,* they sniped at him. *Neither The Seer nor The Morrigan would have suited you at all.*

*Excuse me?!* 

*You heard us, Master,* the shadows said, sounding far too smug for their own good. *And you know it.*

Azriel just glared at them, feeling his temper start to rise. *I know I wasn’t good enough for them,* he snapped. *You don’t need to tell me that.*

*You think you weren’t good enough for them?!* The shadows asked him incredulously.

*They deserve better. So much better than me,* he said quietly. "I'm not good enough for either of them. Never was.*

What was he, after all? An Illyrian bastard? A monster? Either? Both? 

He had never said it out loud before, not even to himself. But in that moment, lying in the water, his heart so raw and exposed, he couldn't help but speak the truth that he had always known but never admitted to himself. "I'm not good enough for either of them," he repeated softly, the weight of his words settling heavily on his chest.

He knew it was true. Mor was a golden ray of light, the embodiment of beauty and grace. Elain was sweet and gentle and kind, a pure soul in a sea of darkness. 

And what was he? Damaged. Broken. Scarred. Inside and out.

He had done unspeakable things, things that would haunt his nightmares for centuries to come. He was nothing compared to them. He was darkness, they were light. And they deserved better than him, far better than him.

Even if he had loved Mor with every fiber of his being, even if he had yearned for her with every beat of his heart, even if he had dreamed of her every night, it didn't matter. It had never mattered. Because he wasn't good enough for her. And he never would be.

He wasn’t good enough for Elain. The mother hadn’t thought it to be prudent to make them mates. Both of his brother had been gifted with a mating bond, but not him. That should tell him everything he needed to know abotu the state of his own soul. 

So why…why should he even try anymore. 

Why shouldn’t he just stew in his own misery, alone and heartbroken and a monster and expect everybody to just leave him alone? There was no point of putting himself out there again. There was nothing out there for him. Nothing but more pain.​​

So he closed his eyes again, sinking lower into the water, letting the warmth soothe his aching muscles. He let out a long sigh, his mind already racing with thoughts of his next missions, his next assignments. Because that was all that really mattered now. His job. His duties. His responsibilities. That was all he had left.

Behave. That’s all he was good for. 

*Alright, that’s fucking enough,* the shadows snapped. *You are not letting The High Lord talk to you like that any longer, Master.*

Azriel was so surprised by their fucking vehemence that he could just stare at them. 

*The Morrigan used you for centuries to make herself feel better about herself,* the shadows snapped. *She used the feelings you had for her and that she was very much aware of to strangle you and keep you in line.*

Azriel swallowed. He knew they were right. He knew that Mor had used his feelings for her for a long time. She had led him on, given him false hope, only to yank it away time and time again. It had been a painful cycle, one that had left him feeling used and broken and worthless.

*She could have stopped at any time but she never did,* the shadows hissed. *But instead she hurt you on purpose. Instead of turning you down, she slept with other males to show you that you would never have her!*

Azriel felt bile rise in the back of his throat. Mor had flaunted her other lovers in front of him, making it clear that he would never be enough for her. She had used his devotion to her as a weapon against him, wielding it whenever it suited her needs. And he had let her. He had been foolish, desperate enough to cling onto any scrap of affection she might throw his way.

*And The Seer?! Granted she has never done that, but her feelings for you weren’t particular deep when she replaced you on her affections with The Fox as soon as you weren’t available anymore! If she had cared, truly cared, she would have thought about what happened during Winter Solstice,* the shadows snapped.

*And The High Lord? Don’t even let us get started on him,* the shadows snapped. *You haven’t even done anything since that Winter Solstice, and he keeps behaving like some kind of despotic Overlord, worried that his orders won’t be followed. If you wanted to punch him in the face, you probably had every right to it,* they mumbled.

Azriel couldn’t help but snort. 

*You deserve better, Master,* The shadows told him fiercely. *You deserve somebody that loves you.* 

. He wanted to believe the shadows. He wanted to believe that he was good enough, that he deserved more. But the scars on his body and the memories in his mind told him otherwise. He had done terrible things, things that he could never undo. How could someone like that be good enough for anyone?

*Alright,* he finally agreed weakly. *Find me a house,* he told the shadows, as he closed his eyes.

*A house? What kind of house?* the shadows gave back, sounding surprised.

*A house,* he repeated. *A home. Somewhere in Velaris. Find me a home.* Something that could just be his.

A home. The idea sent a flutter through his stomach. He had never…never truly had a home. Had something that could just be his and nobody else’s. Just…a place that was his, where he could be whoever he wanted, where he was accepted and loved...it was appealing. Maybe even more than just appealing.

He closed his eyes, picturing it in his mind. A cozy little house, just large enough for himself. Warm and cozy and filled with light.

*That’s what a male needs to take a wife after all, right?* He asked, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. Was that what he should want? What he was supposed to want? He had never really thought about getting married before. But now, at the mention of it, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. A wife...a family...love and companionship. It all sounded so…so nice.

*You want to get married, Master?* the shadows asked curioulsy. *To whom?*

*You pick,* he told the shadows. They swarmed out in pure excitment. Azriel couldn’t even remmeebr the last time they had been so excited. 

He couldn't help but chuckle at their reaction. Maybe they would do a better job than him. At least they could probably sieve out females that were in a romantic relationship or preferred females themselves. 

*Find me somebody that I could make happy. Somebody that….Somebody that could want me.* Some long-suffering female for whom Azriel could maybe try to be enough. Somebody that would love him.

*What should she look like?* they asked seriously.

*I don’t care. Find me somebody that loves me and she’ll be the most beautiful female to me anyway.*

[norrisleclercf1]

How about some mafia max heartbreak

One of the uncles gets hurt in their house and the babies see🥺 maybe Cassie finding uncle Charles or fabby finding lando unconscious and freaking out

A/N: Oh these poor babies, I hate to put them through heart break but...alright I couldn't put baby Fabby through that so light angst.

He knew he was supposed to be asleep; Momma had put him to bed hours ago but instead of sleeping he's been up reading the books that Uncle Lala got him. Fabby knew it wasn't smart, Daddy or Momma could catch him, but he really loved his new books.

Fabby jumps, hearing a crash and people cursing but then it grows silent, he gently clicks off his flashlight, hoping that Momma or Daddy don't come in the room. But just like his father, his curiosity gets the better of him as he tiptoes out of his room, making sure not to wake up Cassie.

Holding his little dino stuffie he carefully walks down the stairs, knowing that at 4 he should be careful, and careful he is, like the good boy Daddy always calls him. He stops when he hears the familiar voice of his father, and he hugs his dino stuffie tight.

Looking around the corner Fabby freezes seeing Uncle Lala laying on the floor with people rushing around him. "Lala!" Max whips around fast, horror and dread dropping in his stomach seeing his little baby boy there in his pjs and holding his stuffie.

"Fabby," He whispers and moves quickly picking up Fabian and holding him close. "Lala," He cries starting to get panicky wanting his Uncle Lando to wake up. "Daddy, Lala, why not he....wake up," Fabby starts to sniff and Max moves them into the kitchen making sure he couldn't hear or see anything.

"Lala has to take a nap right now, he's really tired so he has to nap, like you should be doing," Max explains softly, not wanting to freak out his son. "Daddy, take nappy with Lala?" He moves to get down but Max holds him still, so he doesn't jump off and go to Lando. "No, baby, come on you can sleep with me," Fabby shakes his head no, his eyes getting wide and glossy.

"Wan Lala," Fabby whimpers and Max sighs, dropping his head as he knew Fabian wouldn't give up easy. "Max?" The kitchen light flicks on as you freeze seeing Fabby up and Max's blood spattered shirt. "Max, go change, now." You say softly, but also quiet sternly that has him looking down and going pale.

"Oh, oh god, Y/n, baby, I didn't know," He whispers, and moves quickly going up the stairs as you walk and cage Fabian in. "Fabby, little kitten, what are you doing up?" You ask softly, pushing back his little blonde hair. "Lala," He points with his little hand and you look behind you.

"Stay here," You say and move into the living room and notices the doctors are done with Lando. "Is he...awake?" You whisper kneeling as you press his hair back sighing. You knew how much Fabby loved Lando, it was the same with Cassian and Charles, thick as thieves. "Yeah, little groggy," Doc nods and Lando chuckles softly, "4 bullets, ironic," And you smile, knowing 4 was Lando's lucky number.

"Oscar and Carlos are going to be pissed," Lando groans and rolls his eyes. "Whatever," "Well, Mr. Lucky, you've got mini you worried," Lando tries to sit up but Doc gently shoves him down. "Uhu," He shakes his head but Lando fights him.

"I'll go get him," You reassure and Lando nods as Max comes jogging down the stairs, "Hey man," And moves quickly to his side. "Took some bullets for you, and all you say is "hey man"" Lando grumbles but stops as Fabby comes running in holding his dino. "Lala," Lando smiles and moves using his good arm to lift him up. "Hey dino man," Fabby giggles and lays down. "Read?" He asks and Max chuckles.

"Fabby, Lala will read to you later, get some sleep," He whispers and leans down kissing Fabby head who giggles. "Do I get a kiss too?" Lando giggles and Max smacks him lightly on the head. "Yes," You lean down and kiss his cheek. "Thank you for bringing my husband home," You whisper, Max wrapping his arm around your waist.

"Thank you," Max whispers turning off the light as Lando makes up a story to Fabby, the sounds of little giggles leave you and Max as you walk upstairs.

[allhopesforlove]

Farewell, my love part 3

Summary: In the midst of a battle, y/n realizes that their only way to victory would be through her sacrifice. Determined with her decision to lead an army of soldiers to the frontlines, there was nothing that could hold her back. Because she was sure that if she continued living on she wouldn’t survive any more of what was blooming between Elain and Azriel.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader, Azriel x Elain

Word count: 6.6K

Warning: Angst, war, misogyny, pain and just more pain?

A/n: This one was crazy tbh it took everything of my rookie writing to create a 6k words piece 😭 storytelling is really complex and you have to learn to not forget bits of information and try to string up everything together. But well, I hope you guys enjoy this part <3

And btwwwe the speech part was HEAVILY inspired by our one and only goat Hajime Isayama (those who know, know) so all credits to his beautiful and sexy brain.

Song recommendation: The Hanging Tree by Jennifer Lawrence, Running up that Hill-epic version by Samuel Kim

part 1 part 2

———————

With every step she took, she felt a piercing sensation in her chest. Although surrounded by the smell of death and fear, the only thing plaguing her mind was Azriel’s sorrowful expression. It took every bit of strength in her to leave him and winnow away, after he nearly begged on his knees so that she wouldn’t leave him.

Now if she had listened to her heart she would’ve probably stayed and flung her arms around him. She would’ve swatted off Rhysand and Cassian off of him so that he could embrace her as well.

As much as that sounded like a perfect resolution, she was thankful that her rationality took over her.

She had to look reality in the eyes. The bond had just snapped for them, emotions were running high and to be frank, it were their instincts and carnal desires taking hold of their actions.

Well for her, she also has been in love with him way before their lives were strung up together by fate. But that didn’t matter anymore.

She was thankful that Azriel spoke the truth about his feelings for Elain, truly, because it snapped her out of the dream she was creating in her mind. About actually having a happy ending with him. How foolish.

And after she saw the way Elain had looked at her she came to a painful realization that she herself was the one bringing ultimate chaos and confusion to their lives.

Because Azriel and Elain were happy, genuinely, they were happy before her, andshe was certain that they would still find a way to become happy after her. So who was she to disrupt this beautiful future they had pictured for themselves.

She heaved out a sigh that has been bottling up inside of her. What a crazy turn of events.

One moment she found out her mate was the one she has loved for so long, and now she was walking with a heavy heart towards her death. Right.

She had to focus on the matter at hand.

And as she neared the military base and saw the first men and women walking around their tents, anxiety began to creep up on her. With every clatter of her armor she felt their gazes on her. Are they aware of what’s about to happen to them? Were they able to sense her anxiety?

With heavy steps she dared look them in the eyes. Sorrow. Pain. Suffering. She was met with hard gazes.

Some, she saw, were wearing bandages around them, some were missing limbs.

An eerie silence was following every step she took. The reek of ruin lingering in her nostrils. It felt as though she was trapped to stand in the center of a sinister play, orchestrated by Death himself.

She was slightly shaking and as she realized this she clenched her fist to get ahold of herself. This wasn’t the time nor the place to get second thoughts about her decision. So whatever it was that distracted her, she pushed it down and gave her best to also close down her side of the bond.

Because Azriel’s emotions were overwhelming her and she couldn’t allow herself to still linger on him. This was it. This is where it ends for them. For her.

Two males and a female were approaching her. She recognized them as the base commanders. She felt chills running down her body as she saw that one of them was missing an eye, the wound still looking fresh. Even if she was a warrior and fought in wars before, she would never get used to its aftereffects. Never get used to the suffering.

She stood still and waited for the commanders to arrive at her side. By the looks of it, they were probably informed by Rhys, because… because it appeared that tension had drained from their features, leaving behind only the hollow calm of someone who knew their fate. They carried a sort of confidence and strength parents would tell their children about when reading them tales about ancient heroes. It soothed her. Despite the circumstances she found strength in that.

She adjusted her posture and relaxed her face.

She was going to do this.

“We were informed of your arrival just a moment ago, general.” Right. She was the general. Second to Cassian.

“It’s good to see you again y/n.”

And she remembered Farlan, the male standing besides the other one with the lost eye. They had fought side by side and she had saved Farlan from an attack he didn’t see while he was in the midst of a fight back then.

“It’s good to see you, too Farlan. Although I wished we had met again in other circumstances.” She rasped out with a sigh. He mustered up a crooked smile at that.

She then looked at the other two.

“Were the troops informed of the next attack?”

But what she really had meant to ask was, if they knew that they’d be riding to their deaths and not live long enough to get a taste of freedom again. But they understood her.

“We didn’t have much time, as we just got informed as well. But I think that some can guess what your arrival means.” the female answered her.

And she realized that she didn’t know her name.

“Please forgive me for my ignorance. I didn’t ask your names…?”

“Iris. I am Iris and this-“

“My name is Adonis.” A gruff voice interrupted. By the looks of it Adonis looked way older than the other two. Older than herself. Ancient almost. And his scarred eye added to his aged skin as he looked like someone who has seen lots of their world’s cruelty. With a hardened look he asked

“I am guessing that you will lead us?“

A sly grin appeared on her face at the obvious statement.

“Why else would I be standing here.”

She said looking him straight into his eyes not yielding to his stare. She didn’t move a muscle.

He narrowed his eyes at her then

“Tsk. They should’ve sent the general.”

“I beg your pardon?” The audacity of this male. But before she could say anything more, he spit viciously

“You think they’ll take a little girl like you seriously when you tell ‘em to openly run into the arms of the enemy.”

And she saw red.

“If you are pussy enough, you are very free to go. That’s what I’ll tell them as well.”

She said with cold indifference and continued

“I dont have time to play little games Adnis-“

“Adonis.”

“Right, Adonis, whatever. Matter of fact, I actually don’t care, but here is what I am going to tell you-“

and she was pissed now, because she looked at him with such a void that it was chilling, and she saw how Farlan looked down out of reflex. Iris looked like she was in awe. Guess it was long due that someone put Adris or Adnis, or whatever, in his place.

With slow but self-composed steps she was now standing right before him, as she felt his ugly breath hit her face. She scrunched up her nose at that.

“- whatever opinions you have of me. I dont give a fuck. But let’s make one thing clear commander-“ and she pointed a finger on his armored chest.

“Your hate, your prejudices or your anger. They won’t do you any good anymore, because you and I? We share the same fate-“

and she also looked at the other two

“We all will fight with all our might and we will die on that battlefield, I can assure you that. No sweet talks, no lies. Just the cruel reality of what is to come. And while you are one step closer to death, you will see that your greed will not help you get out of death’s grip. So either get ahold of yourself or fuck off.” and he was flabbergasted.

“And one more thing-“

Her brows knitted together into an arrogant frown

“-I am your general, not the other way round, so don’t you forget that even in your last moments in life, it was a woman that stood above you.”

And she was satisfied with that ugly face he was making.

“Now close your gaping mouth before I have to smell any more of that disgusting breath.”

His face was flushed with anger and his mouth shut, as it was the last thing she saw before turning to the other two.

“I want you to gather up everyone. We don’t have much time, so I want everyone prepared in 10 minutes.”

“Of course, general.” she heard Farlan say and rush to get everyone ready.

She didn’t wait a minute longer and took off to get a moment to herself. But before she got too far, she heard footsteps rushing to her. So she slowed down and was met with Iris’ form.

“Is there a problem?”

She asked as Iris seemed like she was out of breath. But what the former had to say surprised her

“You…- I…” she pointed one finger up while leaning on her knees and heaving out some breaths, so y/n stayed still and waited patiently for her to continue.

When it seemed like Iris was gaining composure again, she looked at her with such admiration it made y/n curious of what she had to say.

“I wanted to thank you general. The way you talked to Adonis, the way you put him in his place? That was something I have always dreamed of doing, so from the bottom of my heart. Thank you for allowing me to see that look on his face.” She breathed out and stood straight as a warrior. Y/n put her hand on her arm then and said

“You don’t have to thank me for that Iris. He was getting way over himself and it seems that this isn’t something that only happened in regards to me. I am happy that my choice of words satisfied you.”

And she winked at her, while Iris let out a little laugh.

“By the way, you can call me y/n. Titles don’t matter now anyway.”

Iris gave her a smile and brought her left hand towards where y/n’s hand was lying on her arm. And there, she saw a shiny object around her ringfinger and asked before she really could think about it

“You got family?”

And Iris looked towards where y/n was glancing. Maybe y/n shouldn’t have asked, because a sad smile was forming on Iris’ face and she saw tears welling in her eyes.

“I lost my mate in battle two days ago.” and y/n had to close her eyes at that. She felt her heart clench and hurt for this female in front of her. They say losing a mate is the worst kind of pain someone could feel. However, she was painfully reminded of a certain Shadowsinger.

“I am sorry for your loss Iris.” She whispered and Iris only gave her a sharp nod. She let go of her arm and just as she was about to leave Iris asked back.

“Do you .. have family?” And y/n couldn’t hide her gasp, she really wished that she wouldn’t have asked her as well, because everything was still so fresh.

She contemplated telling her about Azriel, and decided she would just do it. She had nothing to lose anymore.

��I.. I have a mate. But our situation is a bit complicated, because.. well he, he is with someone else-“ she heard a gasp and saw how Iris’ eyes widened. Before she could theorize in her head, y/n clarified

“It’s not that we were together before, no. He- he didn’t cheat or something like that. He was already together with the other woman and well.. let’s say the bond just snapped today for us.”

She didn’t know why but shame filled her at that revelation and she looked down on her boots. She didn’t want to delve into too much detail, because she already was feeling that numbing pain creep up on her again.

“That’s brutal. I am so sorry y/n, I wish there would’ve been more time for you.” Iris said with empathy.

And y/n was thankful in that moment to have someone who was compassionate with her, which is what compelled her to bare parts of her soul to her

“Yeah, me too Iris.”

And Iris looked at her with pity as she reached her fingers to her face to wipe the tear off that rolled down her face. She didn’t notice that she has started crying.

“I- well, I just wish that everything turned out differently-” and she was forcing herself to hold back that sob that was creeping up her throat.

She was thankful that Iris embraced her then, because she was sure that she would’ve broken down right then and there.

“Thank you for telling me.” Iris whispered in her hair and squeezed her. Y/n just squeezed back as an answer and relished in the comfort of Iris’ arms for a second.

—————————

Azriel couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t understand why this was happening to him, one moment she was in front of him and now she was gone.

He shook of the hands holding him back, as they loosened their grip on him after y/n winnowed away.

“What the hell were you thinking.”

He spat viciously at Rhysand and Cassian, who still looked at him like they’ve seen a ghost. Because this was so unlike Azriel, unlike the shadowsinger hiding and observing in his silent corner. It was Rhysand who spoke up first

“What the hell has gotten into you Azriel? I understand that you don’t want her to risk her life for us, god, I wish that I have gone instead of her. But I never realized that you.. well that you guys were so close-“

and he dared to shift his gaze towards Elain

“- after you had nearly begged me to be with Elain.“

and Azriel winced and closed his eyes for a moment. Right. They didn’t know. And Elain…how was he supposed to do this now. Sweet Elain, who must be so confused why her lover acted this way for another female.

When he opened his eyes again, he looked up to seek out her gaze, and when he found her doe brown eyes already looking at him, he visibly shook. But one way or another, the truth had to be told and he’d rather want everyone to know at once rather than having to be questioned by every single one of them.

“Y/n is my mate.” and as he heard multiple gasps at once he couldn’t recognize which belonged to whom. But what broke his heart was the look Elain was giving him. Hurt. Betrayal. He didn’t want to do this to her, he didn’t want to be the cause of her pain.

“Brother… I-“ Cassian couldn’t find the right words, and he didn’t blame him because neither could he. This was a fucked up situation.

“And despite that, she … she still decided to go?” Mor asked no one in particular as a frown was appearing on her face.

“Well I … I didn’t really gave her a reason to stay.” he whispered back.

And now she got a bit irritated as she narrowed her eyes at him.

“What do you mean by that?”

But he didn’t need more words to say as realization hit her at once and she suddenly snapped her head towards Elain. She looked at her with such scrutiny, but before she got to say anything to her, Azriel went over Elain to stay protectively in front of her.

“Don’t even think of saying what you are thinking Morrigan.”

And he was serious.

He was not letting her or really any of them make Elain the villain of the story. That is not what she deserved.

“I can’t believe you Azriel. You are standing up for someone you’ve known for what? A couple years?”

She was exasperated as if this was an insult to her dignity.

“While your fucking mate is out there giving up her life?” She cried out.

His heart clenched and he felt like he couldn’t breathe at that thought. But he had to push it down, ignore it as he tried not to think of y/n when he said his next words.

“If you haven’t noticed already Mor, I actually care for Elain-“ and he seeked out Elain’s hand from behind him “-and I am not letting any of you put this blame on her. This is all on me and I-“ he looked around everyone “-I need some time with Elain first. I know all of you feel obligated to have a say in this, but truly, out of everyone, this effects mine and Elain’s life the most. So if you’ll excuse us.”

He didn’t wait for any responses as he took Elain, who still didn’t say a word about all of this, to a tent nearby. He had to get them some privacy for what he was going to do next.

When he pushed open the tent he was met by the sight of some healing supplies and some stretchers. Damnit did he choose a healing tent? He had to be fast so that no one interrupted them.

When he turned towards Elain, she still hasn’t uttered a word. So with his finger, he gently lifted up her chin to look directly into her eyes.

And seeing the hurt glimmering in them broke him, but he knew that he had to do this. In his mind and heart he had already decided, but when seeing how tears were silently streaming down her face it made it way difficult for him to voice out his thoughts.

“Elain…”

She clenched her eyes shut and let out a small cry. He quickly pulled her to his chest.

“I am so sorry my dear. I- I had no control over anything. You have to understand that.”

He whispered in her hair while she clung to him.

The next part, however, was going to be hard for him.

“Elain, look at me please.”

As he pulled away from her he saw her tear stricken face.

“I- I have made a decision for myself.” And Elain looked up at him with wonder, shining eyes glistening from all the tears, lips wobbling from holding back her sob.

“I didn’t expect the bond to snap, ever for me. All my life I had waited for my mate to come, all my life I had wished for my other half to complete me, I had yearned for it that it got to a point where I got obsessed with it.”

He noticed her listening to him attentively while tears were streaming down towards her lips. He wiped them off with his thumb.

“But all that wait could only bring me to a certain point in life. So when I saw how my brothers found their mates back to back, I saw how easy it was for them, to find their mates. A-and it got me thinking that if I was actually destined to have one it should’ve already snapped for me too-“ he whispered the last part and shifted on his feet.

“-so I gave up on it. Gave up on my wishful dream of having a mate. I realized that I did not deserve to have one, because why would others get their mates so easily while I was desperately yearning for one.. you have to understand Elain.. over 400 years I waited for her to arrive,

now imagine what that does with one.”

Elain looked at the ground and sniffed, but still, she stayed silent. So Azriel continued.

“But then you came, and I thought that maybe… maybe I could allow myself to try this with you. And I really did Elain, I fell for you, for your charms and witty words that only I got to see.” He wanted to cup her face, but quickly decided against it.

“I imagined what a future for both of us could look like and I was content with it. But you have to know that.. that there was still quite a hollowness in me.”

He closed his eyes and whispered

“I really tried to ignore it, because I really liked you and I wanted to allow myself a shot at happiness… I was and am happy with you Elain.”

“And I knew that with Lucien being your mate, the bond could never snap between us. So I had to make a decision for myself. If I was okay with accepting a future without a mate. Without the one person I have wanted so desperately for all my life.”

He looked at Elain with despair, he waited for her to say something, to speak out what he was afraid of. But she still refused to speak.

“So when the bond between me and her snapped I- I felt like everything that I had build was crushed again. It was like a slap to my face, a way of the Mother saying that I should’ve never given up, because when I was finally okay with the idea of not having a mate, the Mother offered her to me. Right before she was giving up on her life. As if it was a punishment for my impatience.” and his voice was shaking at that last part.

“I want you to know that I don’t regret ever meeting you, our time together is something I cherish. But I have to stay truthful and be honest with you. And myself.”

And Elain started to cry again as Azriel also felt tears forming in his eyes.

“I know that I cannot continue living when I know that my mate is out there fighting for her life. How could I? When…-“

and he closed his eyes for this next part

“-when she is all I ever wanted in my life.”

He whispered as he heard her gasp. He knew that this admission would hurt her, but he had no other choice.

“So I have to go after her. I decided that for myself. I-.. I need to… because with every minute that she is away, with every minute that she is preparing for her death, a part of my soul is burning along with it.”

And he allowed himself to feel her side of the bond but quickly realized that she had closed it off. It ripped his heart out that it got to this point.

When Elain’s crying still continued, he was begging her at this point to respond to him.

“Please … say something.” He whispered and looked at her with hopeful eyes, he needed her to say something or else his heart would explode from anxiously waiting.

“Please … at least just-“ but he was interrupted by Elain’s timid voice.

“Azriel… I- I need to tell you something.”

And she looked him directly into his eyes.

He held her gaze and waited for her to continue.

But, suddenly the air in the room shifted and he became very much aware of how Elain’s form was shaking.

“I have been keeping something from you, but- but it is eating me alive and I … I just can’t bare its weight anymore.”

Her voice cracked at the last part.

And Azriel suddenly felt a cold shiver run over him, making the hair over his arms stand up.

What could she possibly want to say to him? After he bared his soul to her, after he told her that he would go after his mate.

Could it be… no?

Could she be- but he wasnt able to finish his thought as she continued.

“I am.. I am sorry Azriel. I-… when I told Rhysand that I saw how this was going to play out, I was only telling half the truth.. I you have to understand that I- I only wanted what’s best for you.”

“I am not following ‘lain what-“

“I saw your future Azriel.”

“Way before this. I-“

she broke off her sentence with another sob

“I saw you happy with her, I saw you with your children. You had a family with her Azriel.”

And the world stood still for him. Suddenly he became aware of his loud thumping heart and his cold fingertips. He heard no sound other than Elain’s heavy breaths and his rising heart rate.

He felt like she had just pushed a knife through his heart and with every word she was saying, the knife went deeper into his heart. What.

“So I-… I.. when I saw the vision of y/n leading the troops.. she actually wasn’t alone. You had decided to go with her.” He felt sick.

“And with that knowledge.. I was selfish, because I didn’t want to lose what we have, I didn’t want to lose you Azriel. I knew that if you had chosen to go with her then… then everything else would have also played out the way I saw it.” And she looked down on her boots, shame filling her.

“So I had to interfere… I had to stop you from going with her, because I saw you were actually about to. And it scared me, and-“

“So you mean to tell me that your interference may have also changed the other part you saw of my future?” he looked dead in her eyes. And she let out a sob and covered her mouth with her hand.

“So the children you saw-“

he felt like he was going to puke

“-oh god Elain-“

and the tears fell out of his eyes

“-you prevented them from ever existing…?” He gave her a horrified look, eyes wide, eyebrows furrowed into a horror stricken frown. It left her gaping at him

“I, I am not so sure about that part, I really don’t know Azriel, I.. am so sorry, I realize that I may have overstepped.. I…-“ but before she could finish Azriel held up a hand to silence her.

“So you willingly risked y/n’s life, knowing that.. knowing that she was my mate and that we’d have children in the future-“

“Az-“

“I am not done Elain!” He said in a sharp tone.

He- he couldn’t believe what he was hearing… couldn’t believe that Elain manipulated his fate. Couldn’t believe that the woman he loved would go this far just to be with him. It made him sick.

“In your vision you saw me fighting alongside her and surviving. So.. now that she went alone.. that also means...”

Elain’s silence was enough answer for him.

He- he was about to go insane. This was too much for him. Children. They had children. And the tears were now falling easily from his eyes as he gripped his hair with his hands.

“How could you… how could you keep this from me.” He tried to say between the cries he let out.

“I am sorry Azriel … I cannot tell you how sorry I am.” And she was crying along with him.

But Azriel ignored her as he tried to control his cries, his breath before he triggered another panic attack… no, he couldn’t afford that now, not now. He had to go after his mate, he- he couldn’t be too late right?

With that thought in mind he pulled himself together and gave Elain one last look. He wanted to say so many things, wanted to scream at her but he reminded himself that his mate may be standing on that battlefield all alone and scared as he was wasting his time with someone who had done nothing but lied to him.

Wordlessly, without sparing her a second glance, he tore out of the tent.

After all, it seemed to Elain, even with her interference, even if he loved her, Azriel still had chosen his mate. It had not mattered that she had played with fate, because in the end it still was y/n that he wanted.

And that thought alone made Elain break down again, alone and cold, in the stillness of the tent.

As Azriel rushed out the tent he felt a soothing sensation on his hands, slowly creeping up his arms and neck. His shadows.. after he got with Elain, they were barely there, only came when he needed them, but now… now they were back. And he felt a sudden burst of strength with that.

He was going to get his mate, whatever the cost.

—————————

As y/n was having a moment to herself, before everything escalated she closed her eyes. She tried to sense everything around her to calm herself. She heard the distant voices of men and women preparing for battle. The wind causing to rustle the leaves on the couple of trees around them.

She looked up with her face and opened her eyes to see the cobalt blue sky over her.

Such beautiful hues of blue, she thought. How she wished she could’ve seen the ocean right now. Heard its crashing waves on the coast. Smelled its salty but fresh scent. How she wished she could sit on the sand and just watch the waves in the distance.

And even if she didn’t want to, she thought of Azriel. Oh, beautiful Azriel. When she closed her eyes again she could just imagine him right before her, looking at her with that smile, slightly crooked and just so Azriel. She imagined his dimple popping up when he smiled, accompanied with his oh so soft gaze that it got her swooning just by imagining. She remembered his gentleness whenever he talked with her and suddenly also remembered his pain filled gaze when he saw her crying because of him.

She remembered him kissing Elain’s hands and, despite the bond snapping, still choosing her. And she thought to herself. She really didn’t held any resentment towards any of them. Not Azriel and not Elain.

Because if y/n had only tried harder before, tried to be straightforward with Azriel way before, everything might’ve turned out differently. But maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, maybe she was only meant to live and die with an unrequited love.

And she didn’t want to think in that way, but the bond snapping for them? It really didn’t make any sense, because what was the point other than breaking her even more and complicating things for Azriel as well.

It must be hard for him too, because even if he loved Elain, his soul was still connected to hers.

And now she just felt guilty, but before she could dwell on it any more, she opened her eyes again and saw in the distance, black dots of what looked like to be Hybern’s army. It was time.

Y/n pulled herself together, sucked in a deep breath and walked towards the building mass of soldiers standing and waiting for her in several rows. Those were a lot of people.. but she knew that in comparison to the enemy they were definitely the minority.

She was going to lead them, they’d stand under her responsibility. So she’d be damned if she didn’t give her best and showed them her determination .

As she walked towards them she felt a chill run down her back, as an unsettling silence settled and every single one of them stared at her with an unwavering gaze.

She stopped where Adonis stood in front of the troops. He threw her a quick glance and muttered in a deep voice

“You better make this right girl.” and turned around to also stay in the same row as the soldiers.

Then, only then, y/n allowed herself to glance over everyone who stood in front of her.

Warriors of all age and sex, color and race, were aligned in multiple rows that stretched out from the far left where Farlan stood until the far right where she saw Iris looking at her. An eerie silence was all that was left, everyone anticipating what she had to say.

She rested her face and made an unwavering expression, as if she wanted to tell them and reassure them of her dependability, her confidence. And then with a loud, powerful but steady voice

“Warriors of Prythian!”

“I am about to announce our final attack against the enemies of our homeland!” And she clenched her jaw.

“We will charge right forward, where-“

and she pointed her finger to her back, right at the spot where Hybern’s army was marching towards them

“-you see the enemy. We will move forward as one unit and hope to be encased by them so that-“

and she heard some gasps at that

“-so that our other troops on the Southern, Western and Northern side, with the High Lords, can charge at them from behind in a surprise attack-“

and slowly but surely she saw realization hit the most of them, as their gazes shifted to uncertainty, fear and shock.

Some of them looked at their base commanders to search their eyes for confirmation, but they didn’t move an inch and continued to emanate the same conviction.

“-and therefore surround them from all sides.”

No one uttered a word and a heavy and oppressive silence settled around them. But then, someone from the rows came forward and dared to ask what everyone else thought

“So you are telling us… to ultimately ride to our own deaths? Am I understanding this right?”

And y/n blinked at the man, not much older than Feyre, and said with a firm tone

“You are absolutely correct.”

And there someone to her right side fell to their knees and emptied their stomach on the stomped grass in front of them.

The male looked at her with absolute horror then, and she wandered her gaze to the others. They didn’t seem to be reacting any differently. Y/n felt the sweat rolling down her spine but she didn’t make any of her nerves visible on her face, as she continued to maintain a certain cold indifference.

“And since we are dying anyway, you are saying… that it is better dying while fighting till our last breaths…?”

And y/n turned to him again and with an unwavering gaze

“Yes I am.”

And with a trembling voice and a small forming smile, while tears were burning his eyes he continued

“..but if we are going to die anyway, it wouldn’t matter what we do, right? … we … we could also just disobey your orders and it wouldn’t mean a thing would it..” and he looked at her with shiny almost hopeful eyes.

“You are absolutely right.”

And his face fell at that as his mouth began shaking.

“Every belief you held dear, every dream, every hope, every fleeting moment of joy…”

“…it all becomes meaningless as you lay dying on the cold, unforgiving battlefield.”

and she pointed towards the enemy once more

“We all die.” She promised no sweet talk but her utmost honesty.

She took a step closer and grabbed the boy by his armor as she told him, loud enough, so that everyone could hear

“Does that mean our lives hold no value? That there was no purpose to our existence?” she asked, her gaze locking with his.

“…And what of our comrades who gave their all on the battlefield? Would you dare say their lives were meaningless as well?”

And he dared to look right back in her eyes. She felt Iris’ tearful gaze on her as she acknowledged her with a courteous nod.

So as y/n pushed him back in his row and turned to everyone else again, she said, with utmost conviction.

“They were not! Their memories stand as a beacon for us all!”

“The brave have fallen—” she said, pacing to the right, her voice steady.

“The broken have fallen—” she continued, stepping to the left, her presence commanding. The unit’s eyes following her, wide with awe.

“Their lives have meaning because we, the living, vow never to forget them!”

Returning to the center, she stood tall, her voice ringing with unwavering assurance as she declared:

“And as we charge toward our inevitable deaths, we trust that those who come after us will honor us the same.”

And she realized that as she continued talking, they were starting to look up, conviction burning in their faces.

“Because my soldiers stand strong and unbroken in the face of this world’s cruelties!”

“So we will charge with utmost honor and pride and sacrifice ourselves as we wished others would’ve done the same for us!”

“Now collect your weapons, as they will serve as your best comrades for what is to come. And fight- not for glory, but for the honor of those who stand beside you and those who will come after!”

For a moment an overwhelming silence fell over the soldiers, their eyes wide as they took in the weight of her words and she almost got anxious that her speech had the complete opposite effect on them as she had intended, but then, as if stirred by some unseen force, a deafening roar exploded from their ranks, shaking the ground beneath them.

As she looked around and saw even Adonis’ gaze filled with awe, y/n knew that she had done the right thing. So she allowed her face to stretch into a little smile as she clenched her hand into a fist, raised it to the sky and screamed along with them.

But that uproar didn’t held on for long as she sensed it before seeing it.

Her heart rate picked up and she felt a calming presence land behind her with a thud that it forced the troops in front of her into silence.

When a mix of a woody and night-mist scent hit her nostrils, her tears were instantly forming in her eyes and gone was her facade of strength.

She didn’t dare turn around even as she heard the approaching steps.

And when the first shadow brushed against her skin she couldn’t hold it anymore and swiftly turned around and-

And there-

In all his glory, his tall posture and composure, he stood in front of her with a crooked smile and gentle eyes as he looked at her, the wind brushing his soft hair back as it exposed more of his beautiful face, clear defined, and a dark tone, making his freckles from the distance almost invisible. And his eyes conveyed so many unspoken words that it almost seemed like they yearned for her, yearned to drink up everything that was her.

With clear determination he strode over to her and y/n’s heart almost leaped out of her chest as she felt his burning gaze on her, on every little movement of her.

When he stopped in front of her, only a breath separating them, y/n still stayed unmoving.

He opened his mouth and she quickly realized how she followed his every move, how she stared at his beautifully tinted lips.

She waited with anticipation to hear his dark velvety voice again, was desperate for his voice to shake her in her core. She let out ragged breaths and almost felt pathetic if it wasn’t for that crooked smile accompanying his voice

“If you keep looking at me like that I am going to lose it in front all of them my love.”

And she wanted to cry, wanted to hit him, scream at him, kiss him, and scold him all at once but settled on just asking him in a small whisper.

“..Why are you here?”

And she looked at him with wide glistening eyes, flustered, as she waited for his response.

And his eyes softened as he looked at her as though she were the very center of his universe.

“Because I realized that a life without you would be an empty existence-“

and her lips started shaking and the first tears were streaming down her eyes

“-because y/n-“

and his shaking hand cupped her right cheek as his thumb wiped off her tears and soothed her skin

“-I’d rather fall on the battlefield, sharing those final moments with you, than face a life where you no longer exist in it.”

————————————

A quick a/n: I am not really satisfied with how this turned out but I hope you’ll forgive my mistakes, as I really tried to rush this because the ideas were floating all in my head and before forgetting them I had to write them down so yeah, I hope this turned out at least a tiny bit like how you imagined <33 & again I appreciate every single one of you, your likes, reblogs and comments 🥺🫶🏼

I don’t know how many parts I’ll do but this is definitely not the end ;)

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[bluetimeombre]

☽｡⋆ Learning to fly, starting to crawl

Over one hundred years ago, you lost your wings but the wound still hurts like it was only yesterday. When your brothers mate wants to learn to fly, he doesn’t hesitate in teaching her, right in front of you. And nobody can see the scars except the one you love…

[OMG I'M ALIVE!!!! I've had this sitting in my drafts for months but have only just got around to posting. Basically, I have too many hobbies but i'm in a writing mood again., very fitting to start with my boy AZRIEL, whom i love very much. I hope you enjoy. This is linked to my other Azriel fic but of course can be read alone. Not proof-read and yes, she lost her wings. It's becoming almost a thing but it makes for some good ass angst. ENJOY!!!!]

☽｡⋆

The inner circle all sat around the table, eating and chatting merrily. Rhysand sat at the head of the table, as was tradition, while his mate- Feyre- sat next to him, their hands entwined. They smiled at each other, as so in love they were. Cassian and Mor were joking around along with Amren and Elian listened politely. Every now and then, she glanced the shadow singers way to invite him into the conversation but there was no such luck.

Azriel only stared ahead of him, glaring at the empty space where you usually sat. He wasn’t at all surprised you hadn’t turned up, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t be angry about it.

For a few weeks now he’d noticed the shift in you. You snapped easily and often rolled your eyes at anything your brother- the high lord- had to say. He’d heard you pace your rooms at night and his shadows (that favoured you above all) had reported that many nights you went to Rita’s.

But your empty seat irked him. And it irked him that Rhys seemed to not care in the slightest.

Az was the first to be aware of your presence, the echo of the door opening alerting them all and your scent hit him in the face. He inhaled it- your lavender, your sweetness, tinted by the alcohol lingering.

Rhysand huffed and everyone seemed to notice the shift. ‘I apologize about this, Feyre darling.’

Just then, you and Nesta stumbled into the room, arms linked and laughing your heads off about something or other.

Azriel drank you in. Your cheeks were flushed, your dress creased as you struggled to stay up right. Gods, what had you done?

You pouted dramatically, throwing a hand on your hip. ‘Uh oh, Rhysands got his grumpy face on.’

‘Isn’t that his usual?’ Said Nesta, causing the two of you to laugh again.

Everyone watched the two of you.

‘Where have you been?’ Az asked, wanting to rush to you and support you, but Rhys seemed one breath away from snapping.

‘We’re trying to have a pleasant meal, don’t ruin it,’ he grumbled.

‘Yes sir!’ You saluted.

Rhys growled and Feyre took his hand, squeezing it tightly.

‘Something tells me we’re not wanted, y/n,’ Nesta said to her.

‘Alas, we do not want to be here,’ you said, stumbling your way past the table. Before you went, you gave Feyre a squeeze on the shoulder, leaning down to whisper to her. ‘Feyre darling.’

‘Enough!’ Rhys shot up, hands on the table.

You barley spared him a glance as you and Nesta went about your way. You tripped on a plant pot, stumbling and apologizing to the object.

Azriel got out his seat, ready to follow you to wherever. No matter if you wanted him or not.

‘Sit down, Azriel,’ said Rhysand, taking his seat again. He picked up his fork and smiled at his mate like nothing had happened. All the while, your scent got further away from him.

He looked between where you’d disappeared and his high lord. He settled down and promised he’d find out what had made you act so.

☽｡⋆

You woke with unbearable pain in your head the next day. And your back. Your head was granted with the amount you and Nesta had drank, seeking to out-do one another so much so you drank out most of Rita’s.

But your back, the pain was new. Almost as if it knew why you were so angry, so bitter and it sort to make it worse.

Your curtains were drawn but the wind blew them back, letting you glimpse the outside world you dreaded to be a part of.

Shadows curled up your bed, brushing your hair back affectionately. They seemed to always be around you, as if they knew the bond that heaved in your chest even if their master didn’t.

You offered them a poor smile. ‘I’m fine.’ But they caressed you and smelt your lie.

From beyond the curtains, you caught a glimpse of figures in the sky. You’d always loved your room for the view it granted, of the sun, the moon, the stars. But after losing your wings, the view turned cold and the sky never seemed as bright.

It only got worse.

Though you knew the pain it would bring you to see, you wrapped a blanket around you and treaded over to the window.

Feyre was trying out her new wings, the black gifts she’d been given. Once mortal, she now had everything you wanted. The power, the wings. Your freedom was now hers.

And you hated it.

Azriel was looking close to her, encouraging her as she went. Though they were small figures to you, you could see his smile, how he held his hands out to her should she lose confidence.

How many times had you flown side by side, acting like the clouds abided you. The times you’d raced or dropped just to have Azriel catch you.

Never again.

The bitterness invaded your mouth again, blocking out all other logical senses.

Your door burst open- the shadows rushing to your side and curling around your shoulders. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was, the anger radiating from him was enough.

‘How dare you turn up in the state you did last night,’ snapped Rhys. You didn’t turn to face him, shielding yourself from his fury. ‘You had no right to ruin a lovely evening. We are trying to make Feyre and her sisters feel welcomed, its a shame my own sister can’t seem to do that for me.’

The words twisted in your gut. For him… had you not done everything for him? Lost your wings because you wouldn’t give in? Lost fifty years of your life to be with him?

‘Get over whatever it is going on and only return to us when you want to act like a decent human being.’ Rhysand snapped before leaving again, slamming the door- causing her to flinch.

The shadows ran down your hair, your cheeks, your sides. Giving you any ghostly comfort they could. ‘I’m fine,’ you told them again, retreating further into your room.

The shadows followed you, but only half of them. The other half had returned to their master, clouding him and whispering in his ear.

Her wings. She misses her wings.

She hadn’t had to say it out loud, they knew her pain.

Azriel paused in the sky, alerting Feyre. She’d seen the shadows surround him in flourishes. She couldn’t understand they were reporting in on you, that Az needed you to have something there when he could not be.

‘What is it?’ She asked, beating her wings.

He stared at her then at the wings. He was filled with the longing to be with you, in the sky, playing. Your wings were beautiful, just because they were you. A beautiful part of you.

‘I need to speak with the high lord.’

☽｡⋆

‘Ask someone else to train Feyre to fly,’ said Azriel.

He’d insisted he needed to see the high lord on urgent matters that could not wait. He’d expected it to be of the war, but Azriel opened with the line.

Rhysand was sat behind his desk, looking up to Azriel with some amusement. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘Ask Cassian,’ he said, he didn’t need to repeat himself.

‘Feyre wanted you.’

‘I can’t do it anymore,’ he said, stating it all simply.

Rhysand waited, wondering if he’d be graced with an explanation, but it never came. ‘Might I ask why.’

‘Your sister.’

Rhys’s amusement turned to a deep scowl. ‘My sister has asked you to stop flying with Feyre?’

‘No. She hasn’t asked, she never would. But I can’t teach Feyre to fly anymore.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m confused- what does any of this have to do with y/n?’ He asked.

Azriels shadows wound tight around him, coating him like a second skin. He wanted to yell, and he never let his emotions get the better of him. Instead, he curled his hand into a fist and clenched his jaw. ‘Do you really not think that this is hurting her?’

‘After her behaviour the past couple days I think it’s her who’s doing the hurting,’ he said, picking a bit of invisible lint from his shoulder.

‘She lost her wings,’ said Azriel with barely contained annoyance. ‘She lost them. They were cut from her back and she was left to bleed out.’

‘I do remember that Azriel,’ said Rhys, closing his eyes at the words. ‘I was there when we found her.’

‘So do you not think that teaching your mate to fly doesn’t effect her?’

Rhysand looked at him. His eyes changed, the hue turning darker. No, he hadn’t thought that. You’d never let on to feeling anything for your wings or lack of them. But then again, even if you had, would you ever have gone to your brother.

Azriel took a measured step forward. ‘Do you not think it hurts her that you teach your mate to fly, the same mate that gasped in horror when she saw the scars on your sisters back? That you have us fly in front of the house where she can see? Did you even know that when she bathes y/n covers all the mirrors so she doesn’t have to get a glance at the scars.’

The high lord held up a hand. ‘I understand.’

‘No, you don’t. You could never know what it’s like, neither could I, or Cassian. She had a part of her ripped off and she has to live without it every day. But you’ve gifted Feyre them as if it’s nothing.’

‘Because my mate has the powers,’ argued Rhys. ‘If I could give y/n wings I would- in a heartbeat, I would.’

Azriel nodded. He knew that, he knew the relationship between you and Rhys was fractured at best, but he also knew that if anything or anyone hurt you, Az would kill them. ‘I don’t want to reach Feyre to fly because it hurts y/n.’

Rhys leaned back in his chair, studying him. ‘And you care about her?’

‘More than I can express.’ He would give her the wings from his back if he could. ‘And if something hurts her… it hurts me.’

Rhysand nodded. ‘I’ll take her flying from now on. We’ll do it in the mountains, to spare y/n from seeing it.’

Azriel bowed his head. ‘Thank you.’

Rhys nodded but averted his gaze. ‘Look after her, Azriel.’

‘I always have.’

☽｡⋆

Nesta had gone to Rita's, expecting you later but you'd already snuck down to the Wine cellar and picked out the finest to drown your sorrows alone in. You'd past Cassian on the way, the male worried about your shifting gaze and the way you held yourself but you brushed him off and carried on your way.

You hesitated outside your door, where shadows lurked. Yes, they liked you and yes they were often with you, but never guarding your door.

Then, you smelt it. Not wine but sweet cedar and moss. Az.

You didn't want this. Didn't want him to see you like this, in pain in your mind and back, in longing for the wind through your hair. You knew he'd noticed your behaviour, he was the spy master, you'd only hoped... only hoped he didn't care as much as he did.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and braced yourself for shouting.

Azriel stood there, looking regal and beautiful. His back was too the balcony, the door open and wind rusting his wings and sheets. His hands were behind his back and his gaze was... soft? It wasn't dark with anger or clouded in annoyance.

It was just Az.

'Azriel,' you do your best to smile, clearing your throat. 'What are you doing? I thought you had flying with Feyre?' you were trying but you were also just you and you missed your wings.

'I'm teaching her anymore,' he said.

You chuckle. 'Is she that bad a student?'

'I'm sorry.'

You look up to him, taking out the cork of the wine. Rose filled your senses. 'For what?'

'That she flys when you don't,' he mentioned it simply, as if you'd already told him what was hurting you and he'd accepted it.

You hadn't said it. You wouldn't. You hated yourself enough for being weak, you didn't need him, perfect Azriel, caring Azriel, to see how horrid your jealousy had made you. 'I don't know what you mean.'

'y/n,' he steps close to you, taking the bottle from you. He drops it at his side but no smash is delivered. The shadows swallow it up. 'Why won't you talk, instead of drowning yourself in pain?'

'I'm not drowning myself in anything,' you deny, moving away from him to close the balcony door. The air drifting in and moving everything but you only mocked.

'You can't fly,' he said.

Your eyes squeezed shut in pain. 'Yes, I know, you don't have to remind me.'

His boots sounded close behind her and he took her shoulders. He didn't force her to turn around, he only held her gently and soothed his thumbs over the knots in her back. 'You can't fly and words don't exist to tell you how sorry I am. If I could i'd give you the own wings off me back-'

'Don't say that.' The only thing worse than your pain, was Azriel going through it all.

'I would and I mean it just to see you smile again, if only for a second. I'd be glad to give them up,' he whispered. Your shoulders slumped under his grasp and he sighed in relief, it was better than tensing up again. 'I miss you smiling. I miss you laughing. I miss you smiling at me. I'm sorry if teaching Feyre to fly has hurt you.'

'It wasn't you, Az,' you turn in his hold, never letting him feel like it was his fault. In doing that, you admitted to being bothered. 'I can't be who I was, because I don't know how. And I don't want to try to only fail.'

He listened, hands trailing down your arms to rub.

You gulp. 'And it's not just losing the wings, it's everything I lost with it. Freedom. I can't join you or Cas, or anyone when you take to the skies. How am I going to cope in battle? I can't run as fast as I can fly, I can't fight as well. I can't hit Cassian over the head when he's being an idiot, I can't-I can't wrap them around you when we hold each other, and it's painful to think of everything I've lost when I've gained nothing.'

He listened, tears watering his gaze. You had not lost any of that, not to him.

'And Feyre,' you pulled away, crossing your arms around each other and looking out the window. 'I don't hate her, I wish I could but I can't. But she's been Fae for five seconds and she has everything I've ever wanted. Wings. My brother loves her. She's happy. I hate it and I hate myself.'

Your confession weighed your gut but your chest rose in a deep breath. You couldn't see Azriel behind you in the reflection of the windows and you couldn't hear him.

He'd gone. Of course he'd left, you'd whined about what you'd lost when you were at least alive. You'd complained about the High Lady- treason in Rhysand's book.

No, you were all alone.

But you weren't.

Az crept behind you and slowly- so you could pull away- wrapped his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into his chest and matched his breaths with yours. 'I won't insult you by saying I get it, because I could never. But that time, when I found you after you'd lost your wings, I thought i'd lost you and that-that is how I imagine your feelings. Because I stopped breathing and I didn't think happiness would ever be in the world again. And your blood, you bleeding out has been in my nightmares since. If my hands were to be stained with it, let them, because it was the last thing i'd ever have of you.'

You had no idea. He'd felt terrible yes and been there the weeks and months it took to heal but you'd been so full of pain and guilt you hadn't thought of how he fared. Your greatest friend... your lustful secret.

Your hands came up to hold his arms.

'You do not have to be who you were before,' he whispered, head resting on your shoulder. 'Become better. Become something more. As for training, you're the strongest woman I know and still the only person I'd trust with my life.'

A tear escaped you.

He nudged your chin with his nose. 'And you can still hit Cass as much as you like.'

You laugh through tears, holding onto Az like he was the last thing anchoring you to yourself.

His wings slowly inched over you. 'And I will hold you all day, every day till I die, and i'll keep you safe.' His wings closed around the two of you as yours used to do.

Neither of you realised how much you'd missed it, needed it, craved it until it happened.

You'd lost your wings, but you had never and would never lose him.

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds (3)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Azriel's POV (it's a warning here), angst

a/n: I am blown away by all of you and your support!! I really love writing for this fandom omg. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy ♡ Let me know what you think!! I'll get the next update up soon!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

~~

Azriel was losing his ever-loving mind. 

A few weeks ago, everything was fine. Not optimal, but fine. 

He knew his mate, and that was more than could be said for most of Prythian. But even more than that, he could love her from afar. He could make small remarks and catch the smiles they would elicit. He could send his shadows after her on her walks home, protecting her even though she had the entire Inner Circle looking out for her wellbeing. He could buy the ridiculously expensive pastries she loved and stock the kitchens with them, listening for the small gasps she let out each time she found them.

He could talk to you, listen to you, love you in his small ways, even if it wasn’t the ways in which he longed for. 

Because it wasn’t the right time yet. You hadn’t felt the bond for yourself. 

So, yes—admittedly, Azriel had not been in the most optimal position with you. But it was leaps and bounds better than the purgatory you were subjecting him to now. 

He mulled over his current reality as he sat opposite to you at the dining table. He had had to snag the seat from Mor, ripping the chair from her hand in an uncharacteristic show of aggression, and you hadn’t so much as looked up from your plate. He would’ve rather fought for the seats beside you, but Rhys and Cassian had been sitting before he even entered the room. So now he fought for your eyes and was too far away to offer any lingering, accidental touches. 

Not that you would reciprocate either. 

You were avoiding him, and Azriel was at his wit's end trying to decipher why. 

His shadows had relayed dismal reports, only whispering the words sad and alone and contemplative into his ears each morning. He could have guessed as much, if the display of emotions he had tried to comfort you through all those days ago told him anything. 

But Gods, did they really tell him nothing, because you hadn’t spoken to him since. 

“—that is certainly something to consider. Y/n, would you be open to the job?” 

“Hm?” you hummed, and Azriel watched as your eyes flickered over to Rhys in one abrupt movement. “Sorry, what?” 

Rhys raised a brow lined with humor, and Azriel realized he hadn’t been listening to the conversation either. “Helion has extended an invitation to the Night Court—for diplomatic relations and all. It’s mostly a weekend stay for show, but he has quite an extensive library. Feyre and I went last time so it would only be fair if—” 

“Yes,” you nodded, the most emotion Azriel had seen on your face in days blooming into a joyous array. “Of course, I would love to go. Are you kidding?” 

Rhys chuckled. “I figured. Helion has been quite eager to get you to come as well. Seemed like the perfect time.” 

Azriel didn’t miss the way the High Lord’s eyes shone with something other than mirth as he looked closer at the scholar… as he inspected your facade the same way Azriel had been for the past week. 

“When can I leave?” 

Something in Azriel scratched to a halt. “She’s to go alone?” 

Feyre offered the spymaster a soft smile from the other side of the table. “If she wishes. Helion’s invitation was open-ended.” 

“Take the vacation, I say,” Mor piped in, wine glass raised in a solitary toast. 

“Or… you could take me,” Cassian grinned beside you, jostling you in a playful grip. 

You sent a scoff his way. “Aren’t you banned?” 

“No, actually. I’m banned from Summer Court, which is completely unrelated.” 

A short laugh trickled from your lips. It wasn’t a full one, not like the ones Azriel was so used to—the ones he basked in—but it was a laugh, nonetheless.

He felt the way his eyes seemed to follow the crescendo of it, his blinks in time with the sweet sound. 

He committed it to memory. 

“Right, well let’s keep you away from neighboring courts as much as possible so we can avoid a repeat of that, okay?” 

Something like a grin fought at the side of Azriel’s mouth at your quip. 

Cassian prattled on. Something about unjust rules or ridiculous high lords—Azriel wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in you and the way you were so close to meeting his gaze. 

“Perhaps she shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel spoke up, interrupting his brother’s spiel. You still didn’t look at him, instead turning to catch Rhys’s response. 

“Azriel, I can assure you this is a safe visit,” Rhys offered. He knew. Everyone seemed to know but you. “It’s hardly even business. It’s more of a vacation. I’ve been shoving century-old relics in her face for the past few months. She deserves time to herself, don’t you think?” 

His High Lord was speaking in code. A terrible, frustrating code that really meant, “give her some distance.” 

Azriel had had enough of distance. 

He nodded his head all the same. 

And then, despite all odds, you looked at him. 

You looked at him and it was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if he had been wrung out and stretched thin and every bone in his body forced him to sit up straighter. You were looking at him and Azriel couldn’t conceptualize the way the spectrum in his chest moved so quickly from utter relief to the brink of desolation. 

Because you looked at him as if you were broken. A sad—such a sad—smile graced your face, one he had never had the displeasure of seeing before, and he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to kiss it from your face with soft touches and reassuring whispers and that was startling for Azriel because he usually kept his overwhelming urge to kiss you at bay. 

“I’ll bring you back a souvenir,” is all you said. Such simple words to accompany an expression that sent him reeling. 

“Thank you,” he replied, with the most sincerity he could muster. 

And then he held your gaze as it became downcast. He craned his neck to catch every last second of your eyes as they turned back down to the table.

It was hours later that Azriel found himself in the townhouse, boots creating an indent in the office carpet. Rhys sat just feet away from him, leaning back against the desk, waiting for the Shadowsinger to erupt. 

“I would like for you to position your spies further into Autumn. I know you have a few that have integrated into the court, but I need more intel on Eris and his plans.” 

“Of course.” 

“You can take out any currently residing in Day. Just for the next week or so. With y/n going, she can report any happenings.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped. “Would that be wise?” 

Rhys stared back at his brother, expression giving nothing away. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not trust y/n’s word?” 

Azriel’s wings were taut against his back. In truth, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days. With you leaving, that tension would surely pull him into thin compliance. 

“Obviously I trust her word, Rhysand.” 

“Rhysand? What have I done to earn your grievance?” the High Lord asked, crossing his arms over his chest, still the perfect picture of calm. 

Azriel was a juxtaposition before him as he clenched his hands and replied, “You already know.” 

“Do I know? I’m not sure you’ve been clear or honest with anyone. Y/n especially.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Rhys bent at the elbow and rubbed a restless hand across his jaw. Azriel ignored the movement in favor of holding eye contact with the High Lord. Azriel was being stubborn, he knew that, but there was no other way to be. 

He needed to be consistent and reliable. He needed to be a pillar for his family to lean on, and you were part of that. He wasn’t going to take that away from you—to be selfish and call upon a mating bond you hadn't even been made aware of yet. 

He wasn’t going to squander your friendship in the hopes of something more. 

There was a chance, no matter how much the prospect pained him to consider, that you wouldn’t want the bond. You had never hinted at wanting more with the spymaster, so there was no telling how you might react to the cauldron blessing you with a union. You could reject it, and with it would go your friendship. 

Just the thought sent ice through Azriel’s veins. 

Truth be told, he had never shown you many signs either. When the bond snapped months ago, it had taken time for Azriel to come to terms with the truth. He had ruminated on it amidst many sleepless nights, watched you from a new perspective over many dinners, and contemplated the path that had led him to you. 

And then he had regretted. Cauldron had he regretted. 

The feeling still lingered, a reminder of each woman he had taken to his bed before you. All of the fae that had meant nothing, and even the ones that had boarded on something, he wished he could do away with.

Because you had been privy to them all. He knew you had witnessed a few late-night trysts, and even worse, that you had watched him pine after Mor for a century. It all seemed so frivolous now; it all paled in comparison to you. 

And the absolute worst part of it all is that he knew. 

He knew how easy it would be to fall in love with you from the start, so he pretended not to notice. 

He threw himself into impractical longing and meaningless lovers and he pretended that it didn’t hurt to look at you. 

The bond had only cemented his foolishness. 

He hardly had a chance with you by the time it snapped. 

“Late night then, Az?” 

You had teased him over breakfast just days before the bond had snapped for him, a small smile on your face as you lounged at the table early in the morning. At the time, Azriel had bit the inside of his cheek and reeled in his snarkiness. He had avoided your gaze, avoided the robe that barely covered your nightgown, and made himself toast in silence. He had already coaxed the blonde fae out of his bed, and he hadn’t needed a reminder of the woman he had been imagining all throughout the night. 

Because that had been something else he opted to ignore��that he pictured you, imagined you, at all times. 

It snapped three days later. He had been accompanying you through Velaris. “Shopping for fun,” you had said, “and I hate to go alone.”

The only thing Azriel had taken home that day was a gaping hole in his chest and the knowledge that lying to himself had brought him nothing but pain. 

The months following were different. 

Everything was different. 

But for you, he had come to the grim realization, nothing was different at all. He was still Azriel, your friend Azriel, who was secretive and private and cared from afar. You still pictured him as a man who chose his lovers based on convenience and quick practicality even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since your emotions began flowing through his chest. 

Gods, your emotions. They were so positive, so addicting, he could sit back and live his days through you until the end of time. You had so much unrestricted joy coursing through you—so much curiosity and delight. Part of Azriel dreaded the day you did recognize the bond; it would dim the connection to you.

That day in the library had been the first time the bond had chafed against his lungs. He had felt the earthquake beneath his feet and thought nothing of it, but then your fear punctured his being and he had run so fast his wings ached. 

And then you started having nightmares, ones he couldn’t fix, and Azriel began to feel like he was losing you. Like the bond was withering and eroding within him and you along with it. 

“How long, Azriel?” Rhys’s voice cut through the air with a harshness. 

The shadowsinger breathed through his nose, jaw tight. 

“Tell me. Tell me how long you’re going to keep this up for.” 

“You don’t understand, Rhys,” came Azriel’s low reply. “None of you do.” 

The High Lord scoffed. “Right, because I had it so easy with Feyre. Az, mates are complicated—” 

“Don’t,” Azriel breathed. A dangerous shakiness accompanied the word.

“Explain it to me. Help me to understand how—” 

“There was nothing for you to lose!” The rise of the shadowsinger’s voice sent Rhys into silence. “There was nothing! You hadn’t known Feyre for three centuries—hadn’t known what it was like to see her cry over worthless males or laugh until she was doubled over. You didn’t have time to memorize the sound of her voice or understand how it felt to lose that small piece of her. Because she won’t even talk to me anymore and—” 

Azriel cut himself off, moving for the first time since he entered office. He paced, the motion of his feet doing little to dispel the tension from the air or from his body. Azriel tugged a hand through his hair, his shadows following the aggressive pull and weaving through the strands. 

“How long?” Rhys asked again, but this time, Azriel knew that he was asking a different question. One that even he himself had avoided answering. 

The shadowsinger paused. His next words were tainted and his voice cracked. 

“I think forever.”

Part 4

[angelshadowsinger]

Scarlet-Tipped Secrets; Peonies, for You (2)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Azriel x f!reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.4k

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲: angst

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 (𝐓𝐖):

hanahaki!au, TW gore/vomiting (mildly descriptive— it’s bloody petals), unrequited love, themes of depression and lack of self worth, pining (so much pining), & dramaaaaa

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 

When you develop feelings for your best friend, you delude yourself into believing you can ignore them for the rest of your life, if it means you can stay by his side. But once he starts seeing someone else, you discover that if you continue keeping your secret… your time on earth may be cut short. You find yourself with an impossible choice— remove all attachments to the shadowsinger and live, or hold out hope and suffer the consequences. 

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 

Hiii sorry I dropped off the face of the earth!! Hope all is well with you guys~ Here is part 2 (in case anyone remembers part 1 hehhh oops)

𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞:

Mates do not exist in the universe that this fic is set in, meaning Elain is not “off limits” to Az, and Cass is single. Additionally, since mates aren’t a thing, marriage/weddings are!  ⤷ Part 1 here

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ: ʙʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪꜰʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ 18 ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴏʀ. ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴍᴀʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇꜱ. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴅɪꜱᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ.

･ ゜゜・．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･．｡ ･ ゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

“You’ve been avoiding us.” 

Your eyes flew up to catch Rhysand’s sparkling violet gaze, a perfectly groomed brow risen to meet the edge of his dark hairline. The agile form of the High Lord leaned against the doorway to your office, blending into the darkness of the otherwise unoccupied hallway. 

A deep sigh escaped you upon seeing him, knowing you would have to either fabricate some explanation that he would most likely see through, or admit the truth to him. Your gaze hesitantly floated back down to the brewing station before you, fingers coming to awkwardly play with the knob for the flame.

You’d been so engrossed in the potion you were currently brewing that you hadn’t been paying attention— it had been hours now that you’d been entranced in your work, attempting to perfect this damned concoction. You hadn’t noticed as the sun bled into moon across the now-dark sky outside, and you hadn’t thought to lend an ear to any approaching figures. Not that you’d have heard the sneak anyway. 

It had been only a few weeks since you told Cassian of your condition, and since then you hadn’t thought of it as much, though your fits had remained just as frequent and unfortunately, somewhat intense. Your ailments were the very reason you had been throwing yourself into your work— part distraction, part desperation to concoct something to help stave off another fit full of blood-soaked petals. 

Naturally, as you spent more hours toiling at your potion shop down on the Rainbow, you had less time to linger around the Inner Circle. It wasn’t that you particularly wanted to separate yourself from everyone, it was just… easier this way. You didn’t have to worry about running into Azriel, and you didn’t have to act like you were fine in front of your friends when you were anything but.

But of course, your absence from the Inner Circle was indeed soon noticed— the very reason for Rhys’ impromptu visit. Perhaps it was Feyre whispering pillow talk to her mate, merely expressing that she missed her friend. Or it could have been when Mor received another notice of you bailing on your weekly yaps over dinner that always turned to dancing. Perhaps it was Nesta’s off handed comment about you missing book club again as the group sat around the dinner table. 

Whatever it was that gave Rhysand the push to investigate today, you loathed the position you now found yourself in.

The notion of admitting the truth aloud to your High Lord now made you pale, palms bursting into a sweat. Maybe you could tiptoe around this whole thing, if you played your cards right. There was a chance that Rhys hadn’t put the pieces together yet, a chance that you could tiptoe by, just for another day of peace. 

“I’ve been busy,” you replied. It wasn’t such an outlandish response— you truly had been keeping busy in order to occupy your mind from the misery your life had become. 

The male sighed before he pushed off the door and meandered closer. Sitting down in a chair across from your work table, he rested strong hands on his knees. 

“You’ve been keeping busy,” he corrected. You bit your tongue. “We males may be slower to take than the girls, but Azriel is going to notice you’re avoiding him sooner or later.”

You flinched. 

Bullseye. 

There was no chance Rhys missed your reaction— A panther jumping straight for the throat of its prey. Slashing through the niceties, the bullshit. He knew he had you in his claws now. 

So much for your measly hope of escape.

You stared at the vial in front of you, refusing to meet his eye. There was a part of you that wanted to get up and scream— scream at him for intruding, scream at Cassian for blabbing, scream at everyone, at love, at the world. But that was only a small, small part of you. 

No, the larger part of you was just… exhausted. Bone-tired from upholding this charade. You sagged into your seat, face falling from your carefully-crafted neutrality and morphing into despair. 

Rhys was beside you in an instant, violet handkerchief at the ready. 

You didn’t want to cry anymore, Gods this was so fucking annoying! Why couldn’t Azriel just love you? Why was this happening to you, why did you deserve this agony? Why did he love her, what was it she had that you didn’t?! 

Tears dripped off your chin into your lap, splotching onto your stained work apron. You let out a shaky breath, throat starting to itch with that sick soft feeling of the petals swelling up. 

Panic surged in a chain reaction— you didn’t want Rhys to see it, didn’t want anyone else to know and to watch you as you suffered and retched your guts out. Your ears started ringing and your eyes widened, blurry from the tears and the oncoming fit. 

“Y/N, are you okay, you look sick–” 

The doors Rhys had just been leaning on burst open and Cassian barreled through, wings splayed and teeth bared. 

Both you and Rhys were stunned for a moment, and then Cass was up beside the two of you and slotting himself in between. 

Large hands pushed his brother back hard and Rhys stumbled backward, shocked as he gaped at his brother who now glowered down at him. 

The pure surprise you felt staved off the vicious nausea as your mind left those nasty, awful thoughts, only focusing on the present right before your eyes. 

It only took Rhys a moment to gain his bearings, the challenge his brother issued by laying hands on him now recognized and definitely not going to be swept beneath the rug.

“Cassian.” Rhys growled out the name like a huntsman reprimanding a hound. 

But your friend stood his ground, even if a tremor traveled through his body at the tone of his High Lord. “Don’t come to her work and just interrogate her, she’s not some mortal pet,” Cassian said after a moment, tone hard but not as aggressive. He turned a shoulder to his brother who looked slightly shocked, warm hazel landing on your small, hunched form. “Are you alright?”

You closed your agape mouth and nodded, blinking away the drying wetness from before. 

Rhys stepped closer from the wall he had been shoved against, head poking around Cassian’s broad shoulders. He was clearly still miffed at the altercation, but concern seemed to take over as his violet eyes shimmered and he appraised your weary state.

“Y/N, I apologize. I didn’t mean to upset you,“ he said, voice sincere. 

Cassian looked to his brother and sighed, fingers coming to push back a loose tendril of brown from his half-up bun. He pulled out the chair from the nearby workbench, plopping down with apparent exhaustion. 

Rhys, ever observant, took it upon himself to take reins of the situation now that tempers had deescalated. “Please understand– I miss you. Everyone does, very much so. Especially the girls, you know how they are.”

You took a deep breath and hoped that you had the strength for the ensuing conversation. 

“I miss everyone too,” you admitted, gaze glued to the stone floor. Your hands came to rub the sides of your arms, crossing them protectively before your chest. You asked as you turned to the long-haired Illyrian, “Did you tell him?”

Cass raised a thick brow, offended. “No, I haven’t said a word, I swear.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “As if you’d have to say anything. I run an entire Court, I think I’d know when something is amiss within my own rankings,” he countered to his General. 

After a beat, with a softer tone and gaze, he turned his attention to you. “I figure you must have some feelings towards our Spymaster,” he reasoned, “and thus I can understand why you’d like some distance from him at the moment. But our court needs you, and your friends need you too. If you’re having a hard time, we would like to be there for you, whatever you need.”

The High Lord’s peace offering touched your tattered heart. You nodded in understanding, looking away to share a glance with Cassian, whose eyes seemed to say ‘Maybe it would be best to tell him, too.’ 

“The choice is yours,” he said, holding your gaze. Whatever you decide, I’ll stand by you. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat. You began, “Rhys, it’s actually not all that simple…”

–

The reality of your situation had somewhat floored the High Lord. After all, your disease was actually quite rare in Prythian lands, and most had never heard of such a thing. You hadn’t before your self-diagnosis, and you were a healer for Goddess’ sake.

Rhys agreed to keep your secret– after much apologizing and sympathy. He even swore to try his best to keep Feyre from finding out the truth in fear that her heart would break, torn between her brother and one of her closest friends, as he now was. 

You didn’t know if you more hated or appreciated the pity his violet irises held when he left you– the look of sorrow and understanding, one that you didn’t really know quite what to do with. 

Cassian had offered to walk you home from your office, but you’d asked instead to have a moment to yourself, excusing yourself into the evening alone. The pair of you were originally supposed to go to dinner for another night of drinks and distraction, but after the surprise visit from Rhys, and the rather somber explanation of your reality, your spirits were feeling worn.

He had given you a sad look of understanding, but didn’t argue– just said that if you needed him, he’d come whenever. 

You appreciated Cass too, your friend– your only confidant in this tribulating time. Yet a part of you felt bad for burdening him with this overwhelming secret– especially when the one he was keeping it from was his very own brother. And now, Rhys was in the same exact position, too. 

The thought made your shoulders sag, steps a little slower as you trekked by the winding cobbled path along the Sidra. 

The sun was almost fully set and now there was a bite of chill in the air as the summer waned into fall. Though the leaves were still green on the trees, evenings began to grow longer and days shorter, and soon the cold winter would be upon the Night Court.

You stopped to gaze at the powerful river beside you, leaning against the iron gate separating you from the swirling current below. Maybe it was dreary, but you wondered if this would be your last autumn. If you would make it ‘til winter, even… 

Your bouts weren’t necessarily worsening but they hadn’t gotten any better. And the harsh reality was, you couldn’t live like this, how your sickness currently was. 

You would have to schedule the procedure soon. 

So that you could live, and so that this didn’t have to be your last fall. Just your last fall in Velaris… your last fall with Azriel. 

As if some twist of fate would have it, your skin prickled and your heart skipped a beat as the familiar beat of wings neared, a shadow growing beside you. The familiar scent of cedar and rain washed over you– a smell that once had been salvation now turned painful. You swallowed harshly and schooled your spine into a straight line, as if you weren’t just considering your bleak future. 

Wisps of shadow sprawled out around you as lithe feet touched ground, those huge membranous wings folding up to sit squarely behind broad shoulders. 

“Hey stranger,” Azriel said, bumping arms with you in a warm greeting. He seemed to be in a good mood– a small smile bloomed on your lips at his happiness. 

You could feel his intense, beautiful gaze on your cheek, but you didn’t turn to face him, just glanced at him sideways for a moment with your half-hearted smile.  “Hi, Az,” you returned, voice soft, before your eyes focused back on the waters below.

Whorls of shadow twisted up over your pants and across the exposed skin of your arms, greeting you in their own way. You closed your eyes and welcomed them with a quiet laugh, closing your eyes and enjoying the sensation of them dancing in the ends of your hair. They did so for a minute before returning to their master, coiling around him in satisfaction, whispering lowly with glee. 

You watched as his handsome face slightly scrunched before he turned his attention back to you. It looked as if a question was about to fall from his lips before you looked away again, heart beating a little faster and clammy palms gripping onto the fence before you a little harder. 

Whatever Azriel was going to say, he decided against– instead content to allow the pair of you to fall into a wistful pause of silence.

“I haven’t seen you very much lately…” The shadowsinger eventually trailed off. 

You didn’t find the quiet that lingered between the pair of you particularly uncomfortable, but it seemed he did by the way he ran his fingers through his hair. You wondered what it felt like— how the silky, dark locks would feel in your hands, what it would be like to be allowed that intimacy. 

“We’ve both been busy, I guess,” you murmured, studying the various rocks that lined the riverbed below. 

It was too difficult to even look at him… you didn’t think he’d notice your ever-growing absence from the Inner Circle, with his new fiancé to distract him. But this was the Spymaster you were talking about— of course he would notice. Not because he cared about you; not in that way, the way you so desperately wanted. But because it was his job, his role. 

What were the odds of both Rhys and Azriel confronting you on the same day? Your emotions were already so battered from speaking with his brother earlier… you didn’t think you could handle talking to the male before you for very long. Exhaustion pulsed in your bones, your body weak and frail, as though you might blow away with a strong gust of wind. 

Azriel watched your gaze. He noted how your fingers clutched the iron, the quiet breaths you took as your eyes landed anywhere but him. Guarded.

“Are you alright, Y/n?” he asked, finally braving the question that had been poised at the tip of his tongue for weeks. 

It had been a long time since the Shadowsinger felt like the two of you were close, and you had drifted away even further since he had announced his engagement to Elain. He thought you were just giving him space so he could shower his new fiancée in attention, but you didn’t look very well now that he had you before him… He mentally cursed himself for pulling back his usual few slips of shadow that tailed you always, the ones that would come back to him in the dark of night and tell him you were alright, happy and safe. He should’ve noticed something was up with you, should’ve come to you sooner. 

Your eyes were glued to the dying sunlight that rippled off the far waves. You hoped that he wouldn’t ask why you wouldn’t look at him; you didn’t know if you could come up with a believable excuse. Taking a moment to find your response, Azriel shifted uneasily beside you. You replied softly, “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you lately, Az.” 

The male frowned. “That’s not what I— I’m worried about you… You’ve been avoiding everyone lately. I mean, I haven’t seen you in weeks. Are you okay?”

Your gaze fell to your hands resting on the balustrade, the gentle evening wind rustling your hair. You put all your energy into sounding convincing, but somehow your voice sounded hollow when you spoke. “Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Azriel sighed. “Of course I want you to be okay, Y/N… but you don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?” His gaze lingered on your back, scarred hands curled into themselves. 

“It’s what you want to hear, Az. I’ve just… got a lot on my mind these days. And you’ve got a lot on your plate with…,” you choked, the words scathing like you were tearing your own skin off, ” the wedding… So, you don’t have to worry about me,” you explained, your voice soft. It wasn’t a lie; your mind had been a place of great turbulence for quite some time now; a prison that you couldn’t escape, the walls only drawing closer every time you closed your eyes. 

The male silently slunk a little closer to you, his presence that once calmed you now making your chest ache. “Don’t be like that, I’ll always have time for you. No matter what… or who. Just tell me what’s on your mind,” he offered, the timbre in his voice soft but strong. “Elain says I am a great listener.” 

You closed your eyes and forced in a deep breath, her name like a stab to your heart from the dagger that lived on his narrow hip. The back of your throat started to tickle as your emotions heightened, but you knew you had to stay strong above all else. 

You couldn’t let him see. He wouldn’t see.

“Thank you, Az— you are, and you always have been. This is just… something I have to figure out for myself, I think.” Your heart begged for you to throw a snide comment in about him not having time to listen to you anyway— since every moment you saw him now he was glued to Elain. But you couldn’t bring yourself to pettiness; you didn’t have the strength to utter more words than necessary. 

The cool caress of his shadows greeted your cheek, causing you to look at him. He had snuck even closer, his chest now just barely brushing your shoulder. His face was so strikingly handsome at such close proximity; you nearly burst into a coughing fit just from looking at him. Only a few weeks had gone by without him and yet he seemed even more perfect than ever.

Gods, he was perfect. So sweet, perceptive, and gentle… And kind, and considerate. 

And he was not yours. 

“You don’t have to handle everything on your own, Y/n,” he murmured, hazel soft as he drank in your sunken skin, the bags beneath your eyes. He examined the gauntness of your face, noted the paleness of your complexion.

You could see the care he held for you in that gaze. It was never a question of if he cared for you— that was never the problem. The problem was that he only cared for you as a friend, and that was all you would ever be to him. 

A cough bloomed at the back of your tongue and you sputtered, clearing your throat. “I know,” you rasped, catching your breath. That wicked gaze was fixed on you, aporetic, sharp. “And I’m not, so please just… let it go.” 

Azriel drew a low breath when you pushed past him, your shoulder nudging into his on the way. He called out behind you just as you were about to leave. 

“I don’t understand why you can talk to Cassian about it and not me.”  

You froze, blood chilling to your bones. 

“I saw you two, after the ball. He had you scooped up in his arms and you were crying.” 

Your lip curled. 

Shadows. Those fucking spies of his. 

This was the Spymaster you were playing in the flames with, now. You had to give him cold, hard words that he couldn’t find a soft spot to stab into, or else your cover would be blown. You couldn’t let him find your truth— had to bury away any scrap of vulnerability you possibly could. 

“There’s nothing for you to understand, Azriel… And don’t pretend like you actually give a fuck— if you saw that, why are you only checking on me now? That was weeks ago.”

Azriel’s handsome face was marred with shock for a moment before it morphed into a scowl. The glare he directed your way sizzled, frustration radiating off of him. “I had just gotten engaged, if you recall. I'm sorry that there’s another woman in my life now who comes first, I can’t come running to pick up the pieces for you right away any more.”

You felt your heart crack. You didn’t know if Azriel heard the tiny whimper that escaped as pain sliced through you— his words confirming a truth you’d already tried to prepare yourself for. 

“You’re clearly not over it, whatever it was that happened, even now— I still care, Y/n, I just… I just don’t understand,” he explained, exasperation straining his voice. “Why are you being like this? We tell each other everything.”

Not anymore, rang through your conscience bitterly, and your throat clamped with the effort of fending off another fit. All you could do was stare at him for a moment as you fought the physical urge to vomit and sob at the same time. Somehow you pushed through, forcing out words— any words you could find so that petals didn’t come tumbling out instead. 

“I’m taking care of it! Just– Gods, I’m not some desperate act looking for sympathy. You don’t have to take pity on a poor little loner like me, now that you’ve got everything you could ever dream of, Azriel. Cass caught me at the right time is all, when I needed someone he was there,” you said truthfully. 

Had Cassian not found you passed out beside a petal of blood-covered petals, you never would have told him the truth. Or anyone, for that matter. 

“I get that she comes first now, that’s fine,” you continued, “And I’m glad you two are so in love that all you need is each other. That’s great, just… don’t be mad that when you cut me out of your life I find another shoulder to cry on. I’m not your problem anymore, so just… leave it alone. Just… leave me alone. Please.” 

Azriel stared at you, hazel eyes wide and lips pursed as your plea settled over him. 

Somehow you were still standing, shallow breaths ragged as silence filled the emptiness between you. After a pregnant pause, your feet moved on their own, desperate for escape. 

But Azriel caught your wrist as you attempted to push past him again. His fingers were warm and rough, and much to your chagrin, your skin sang at his touch. He dragged you closer, so your bodies just brushed and the allure of his heat whispered to your form. 

“No,” he said almost under his breath, so lowly you nearly didn’t hear him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a dick, I–” he cut himself off and growled, brow furrowed and exasperated with himself, “I don’t care about any of that shit, I just— I just care about you.”

Your heart leapt into your throat. He leaned in and your knees wobbled at his proximity. The intoxicating scent of cedar rolled off of him and you tried your best to hold your breath. 

“Your friendship means so much to me. I’d go insane without you, I can’t— I don’t wanna do anything to fuck that up. I feel like shit ‘cuz I haven’t been here for you when you’re going through something and I’m— I'm lashing out when I should be trying to make up for it. I just want you to know that I’ll do better, and if you need me, then I’ll be here… Okay?”

Hazel pierced into you, filled with such care… but at the same time, his gaze was searching; probing and astute. You studied the flecks in those beautiful irises— wondered what they’d look like full of love and infatuation, staring straight down the barrel of your soul. 

“Okay,” you whispered, eyes starry with tears you would not let fall, praying this conversation would just end already.

Azriel smiled weakly, letting out a breath as he took a step back. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” 

You nodded, also stepping to the side, creating more distance. “You don’t need to apologize. You’re busy these days and that’s okay. I know. Please don’t feel bad about being happy.” 

It was Azriel’s turn to nod at that, tucking scarred hands into his pockets casually before clearing his throat. 

“Right, well… Let me take you home?” he offered, arms slightly outstretched as massive wings unfurled behind him. 

The thought of spending one more second in the male’s presence made your stomach twist with agony, but you knew better than to even try to argue. Any words you breathed in protest would be wasted. There was no way in hell Azriel was going to leave you to walk home alone on any given day— but especially not after that big of a fight. 

Instead, you meekly whispered, “Can you winnow me?” Already stepping into his embrace, you tried to bypass any unnecessary seconds in his presence. “I’m fucking freezing,” was your excuse, and even though it was nowhere near such temperatures, Azriel obeyed without question. 

Muscular arms wrapped around you and you let yourself lean onto his firm chest for just the moment it took to slip away between the shadows. There was only one brief pause when it was just the two of you, enveloped in darkness between the planes of the Sidra and your kitchen, when you let yourself breathe in his heavenly scent, and let the feeling of his embrace sink into your skin. 

But it was over just like that, and immediately you stepped away, bumping back against the countertop. You shot him a brief smile which he returned, uttering a small “goodnight” before he slipped back into the darkness and away into the night. 

You stared at the empty spot which he had just occupied, weariness throbbing through your form. Pure exhaustion blossomed deep within you and all you craved was the sweet nothingness of sleep— the one time you could slip away from your hellish reality of pain and longing. But sleep was still far off, you knew, as you padded over to the washroom and sank to your knees before the toilet, readying yourself for a grueling night filled with scarlet-tipped petals once again.

okayyyy so we finally met Az this chapter!! what do we think? isnt he so angsty and scrumptious heheee

⤷ masterlist

[steveslevis]

let’s make it cinematic!

azriel x OF!reader (modern au) - part 1 of ?

summary: azriel and his girl are looking for new ways to make ends meet when their friends suggest something that neither of them would’ve ever thought to try…something neither of them would’ve ever thought they’d enjoy so much.

warnings: drinking, smoking (weed-adjacent aka mirthroot), sex tapes/filming sexual acts, dom!azriel x sub!reader, smut!!! so much smut, fingering, oral (m receiving), p in v sex, rough sex, degradation AND praise kinks, (light) choking, dirty talk, shadow play, size kink (simply bc az is HUGE), creampie (wrap it up yall!!!), az is a protective dom & king of aftercare, mentions of exhibitionism and a foursome

word count: 7.5k

a/n: it's FINALLY here!!!! shoutout to @bookishbishhh for the amazing idea, sorry this took forever...i hope everyone enjoys part 1 of who knows how many <333

Thick smoke hangs in the air around the apartment, the sound of laughter likely carrying through the entire complex as Azriel, Cassian and Rhys sit on the couch, talking about nothing in particular. 

It’s a weekly ritual at this point for them to get together on a Friday night, just three so-called brothers laughing about senseless stories and reminiscing on their years spent together while passing mirthroot and sharing a bottle of whiskey. This week was no different from any other, aside from the distance in Azriel’s hazel eyes as the other two laugh about something Cassian did at a party the weekend before. 

Rhys nudges the quiet male, offering him the lit mirthroot between his fingers to grab his attention. Azriel grunts in response, taking it before placing it between his lips and inhaling sharply. 

“What’s on your mind, brother?” Rhys questions. 

Azriel is hesitant to share, squeezing his eyes shut as he holds the smoke in for a moment. He knows Rhys specifically won’t understand his situation, considering he’s never had to deal with financial hardship in his life. But he knows there’s never been judgment from either of them when discussing money, so he pushes his hesitancy down despite the hollow feeling in his chest.

“Things have just been tough lately,” he sighs, finally exhaling the smoke he was holding in before passing the mirthroot to Cassian. “We have no fucking money and I hate that Y/N has to work pretty much any time she’s not studying or in class. She’s stuck at that damn restaurant every night until fucking midnight and I hate seeing her so exhausted every night but it’s not like she can just quit right now.”

There’s a beat of silence in the room as both Cassian and Rhys nod in understanding, before Cassian exhales his smoke and suggests something Azriel would’ve never expected.

“Have you thought about OnlyFaes?” 

“Shut the fuck up Cass–”

“I’m not fucking around!” Cassian interjects, “I mean, don’t get all shitty and possessive on me, but your girlfriend is hot as fuck, and horny as fuck might I add. So why not get paid to fuck her? Me and Nes have had the best time doing it.”

It was no secret that Nesta had her own OnlyFaes and that Cassian was featured on it more times than not, he loves showing her off on their page and showing everyone how hot his girl that nobody else will ever have a chance to touch is.

“You can’t be serious,” Azriel nearly snarls, shaking his head sharply, “I am not gonna even ask her to do that. Y/N would never.”

Rhys chuckles while pouring himself some more whiskey, making Azriel snap his gaze in that direction, “What?” he insists, eyes narrowed on Rhys, “What’s so funny about that?”

“I think you don’t know your girlfriend if you think she wouldn’t be willing to try that,” Rhys says smoothly with a smirk, “Considering all the times you’ve had an audience–accidentally or not–I think she might be more than okay with doing it on camera, as long as you’re the one doing it.”

Azriel’s jaw twitches at his words, mind racing with thoughts of how good you look when he fucks you, how he can’t get enough of the noises you make when you cum, how well it would probably do in a video. There’s conflicting voices in his mind, one telling him to never share you and one telling him that the two of you could be so successful and never have to worry about how you were gonna pay rent again.

“I mean, don’t you think it’s worth a shot, Az?” Cassian questions. “I think she’d be into it.”

As Azriel opens his mouth to reply, the sound of a key sliding into the front door lock stops him in his tracks. His shadows skitter towards the door and swirl around the handle, excited to greet their favorite person.

The door opens a moment later, and you’re on the other side looking exhausted from a long day of class and work. You give your boyfriend a weak smile, mumbling a quick hello to the other two males in the room while closing the door and throwing your bag down. You look up from where you throw your bag down and halfway frown, cursing yourself silently for forgetting that it’s Friday and you wouldn’t be able to spend the rest of the night cuddling in bed with Az. 

“Long night?” Cassian is the first to break the silence, furrowing his brow as he takes in your disheveled appearance. You nod and he grimaces sympathetically, holding up the bottle in his hand as he does. “Want a shot?” 

Azriel elbows Cassian roughly, shooting a glare in his direction before standing up to walk over to you. His eyes fall on you and you nearly melt, leaning into his grasp as he reaches for your cheek. Azriel’s large wings raise behind him, as if he’s trying to shield you from the two males on the couch behind him as he and his shadows greet you.

“Ignore him, I think he’s had too much mirthroot tonight and is going crazy.” he mumbles, stroking his thumb across your cheek, “did you have a good shift?”

You sigh before shaking your head, rolling your eyes at the thought of the draining night you just had. Working in Prythian’s finest dining room came with its perks, mainly being the somewhat generous tips, but that didn’t mean that people weren’t assholes to you throughout every single shift, and tonight was no different. 

You had gotten stuck waitressing for a large party of businessmen, who all decided it would be a great idea to flirt with you all night and make crude comments under their breath in your direction any time you passed their seats. So no, you hadn’t had a good shift at all.  

“Don’t really wanna talk about it,” you retort tiredly, frowning up at Azriel while reaching up to cup his cheek. “I’m just gonna go to bed, I think. Don’t wanna bring down the fun.”

A frown crosses Azriel’s face for a moment but he nods, noting the darkness underneath your eyes as you stare up at him, “we’ll try not to be too loud and keep you up.”

The other males bid you goodnight from the couch as Azriel kisses your cheek gently. You give him a tired smile before trudging towards the bedroom. 

You shrug out of your black slacks and polo, changing into pajamas before curling up under the covers. It doesn’t take you more than five minutes to fall asleep, exhaustion raking over your whole body as soon as your head meets the pillow. 

________________________________________

The bed is empty and cold when you wake, making you frown at the absence of your favorite person. Before you can sulk too much, your phone buzzes from the bedside table. You turn over in the bed to grab for it, a small smile crossing your face as you read Azriel’s name on the screen. You look at the clock in the corner of the screen, realizing you slept in until 12:30 in the afternoon after utter exhaustion took you in the night before. There are three texts from the male, all over the last six hours. 

Azzy <3 - 6:15 am: Forgot to tell you that I was taking an extra shift at the shop this morning, I’ll be home around 1. Love you.

Azzy <3 - 8:52 am: Can’t wait to spend the rest of the day cuddling in bed…wish I could’ve been there to wake you up the proper way this morning ;)

Azzy <3 - 12:28 pm: Don’t even know if you’re awake yet, but I’ll be home in less than five minutes. Finished up the car I was working on early, see you soon, love. 

You smile to yourself as you read his semi-formal texts. He’s never been keen on texting since he’d rather just call you, but he’s gotten more chatty over text since the two of you barely get to see each other when you’re busy with work and school all the time. You start to type a message in reply, but he’s true to his word and you hear the front door unlocking only four minutes after he sent his last text. 

You wait patiently in the bed, sitting up as you watch the bedroom door intently. It only takes a few seconds for him to open the door quietly, eyes widening in half-shock when he sees that you’re actually awake. You smile over at him sleepily, noting how his oil-stained coveralls are draped over his arm and his hands are surprisingly clean, as if he cleaned himself up before coming home. 

“Well, good morning, sleeping beauty.” he teases, striding over to your side of the bed to give you a quick kiss. 

“Hi,” you mumble tiredly, reaching up to cup his cheek gently. “Did you have a good morning?” 

He hums in agreement, quickly tossing his work clothes into their designated laundry basket before slipping under the covers next to you. You slide as close to him as possible, wrapping your arms around his waist while burying your face in his neck. Azriel’s arms snake around your shoulders, planting a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you lay in comfortable silence, happy to sit in each other’s arms and enjoy the moment for a while. 

When you do finally pull away to look up at him, Azriel’s brow is furrowed and he’s staring at the opposite wall, deep in thought. You trail your hand along his chest to break him from his trance, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt to get his attention.

“What’s on your mind?” you question when he finally looks down at you. 

“Oh, just something Cass said last night,” he sighs, giving you a wry smile. You raise your brow at him, waiting for him to continue. “We were talking about how it’s been hard for us, with you being in school and working and with me having to pick up extra shifts at the shop. And–And he suggested a way for us to make more money. I was just thinking about it.”

“Well, what was it?” you urge. 

“He suggested that we try OnlyFaes.” he says bluntly, watching you intently to gauge your reaction. 

“O–Oh.” you say, a blush spreading across your cheeks as you mull over his words. 

“Yeah, I–I thought it was insane at first.” he begins, shadows slithering around his wings as he looks at you with nervous eyes. “But then I got to thinking about it. Would it really be so bad? I–I mean, we already fuck all the time, and you’re insatiable as is,” he says with a small smirk, “What’s the difference between doing it alone versus in front of a camera? It’ll just be us still.”

Your mind races as you think about his suggestion. In all honesty, it seems less and less insane the more you think about it. You’ve heard of people making so much money on OnlyFaes, so what’s the real harm in it? 

Before you can come up with a reply, Azriel takes your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks gently.

“I don’t want you to say yes right now. I don’t want to force you to do something you’re not interested in, love.” he says quietly, searching your gaze for any signs of offense. “It might not be for us, we don’t even have to attempt it if you don’t feel comfortable with it. It’s just something to think about, okay?”

Something roils in your gut as he peers down at you lovingly, a strange feeling of lust mixed with sin. 

“Yeah–Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

________________________________________

Laughter and playful banter fill the living room of Nesta and Cassian’s apartment as you sit on the velvet couch with Nesta. She insisted you come over on your night off for a girl’s night, one filled with gossip, talk about all of your favorite smutty books, and plenty of wine. The conversation flowed naturally, and you eventually brought up the conversation you had with Azriel a few nights prior, the one you hadn’t been able to shake for the last few days. 

“Can you believe that?” you giggle, swirling the red liquid in your glass, “Az actually suggested that I should start an OnlyFaes. Me, of all people! Like I would make any money.”

Nesta smirks at you, shaking her head at your feigned outrage while sipping her own wine. 

“I can believe it, actually.” she retorts, making you stop dead in your tracks. “I know you could make plenty of money. I make plenty on there and I’m sure you could make even more than I do, especially if you let Az fuck you–”

“Wait, wait–” you interject, brow furrowed as you sit up abruptly as she speaks. “You do OnlyFaes?”

“Of course I do, you didn’t know?” Nesta says casually, raising an eyebrow as you stare at her wide-eyed. “Me and Cass are so horny that we’re on each other almost all the time, might as well make some money while we’re going at it, you know?”

“Are you fucking with me right now, Nes?” you question, unable to read her facial expression as she watches with amusement as you obsess over this revelation.

“No, Y/N. I’m not fucking with you.” she laughs dryly. 

“And–And you actually make money by doing this?” you continue, still skeptical.

Nesta nods, reaching for her phone, “Would me showing you my profile and my last payment from the site make you stop asking so many questions?”

You’re silent as you nod in reply, waiting impatiently as she pulls up the page on her phone. Nesta hands her phone to you, a small chuckle escaping her lips again as you go wide-eyed as you scroll. There were dozens of videos on her profile, some with Cassian, some with just her, along with countless photos of her in positions you truly weren’t sure were possible before seeing them with your own eyes. 

“Oh, quit blushing like a schoolgirl,” Nesta’s voice makes you jump as she leans over to you, pressing a few buttons on her phone as you hold it, “it’s not like you and Azriel are vanilla saints in the bedroom who just stick to missionary. I’ve seen the two of you fuck before, remember?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble under your breath, blush deepening as you recall the time Cassian and Nesta walked in on Azriel fucking you ruthlessly into the couch of their old shared apartment and didn’t stop once he noticed them. 

“Uh huh, I’m sure you don’t,” she retorts, clicking one final button on her phone before letting go, revealing her last paycheck from the account, “Here’s the proof that I actually make some money.”

Some money was the understatement of the century if you were being honest. Last week alone Nesta had made $1200, and $1400 the week before, and some weeks she made up to $2000. The thought of making that much money in a month, let alone one week, was something you never thought you’d be able to do. 

“I really think you should go for it,” Nesta urges genuinely as she watches you stare in wonder at her paychecks, “I think you’ll enjoy this a hell of a lot more than your shitty ass waitressing job.”

“Yeah–Yeah, I probably would,” you say sheepishly, handing the phone back to her as your mind races with the possibilities. “I’ll think about it.”

________________________________________

Perched on top of the kitchen counter, you admire the shirtless male in front of you as he finishes preparing a simple dinner for the two of you. It’s not uncommon for Azriel to make dinner, as you’re usually too tired to think about making anything by the time you get home from work. He plates the pasta with tomato sauce, adding some cheese on top before pouring two glasses of your favorite–but cheap–red wine. 

Azriel tending to you–in any manner–is truly your favorite sight, the way he makes sure you’re always happy and cared for always makes your heart sing, and your core ache. 

You take in every inch of him as he focuses on the glasses in front of him, eyes trailing from his half-wet hair from taking a shower a few minutes ago, down to his bare chest, over his tattooed shoulders to his muscular back and the wings–gods, those wings–between his shoulder blades. The bat-like wings behind him always make you damn near feral, loving the way they flare and twitch when you touch them, the way they make the already large Illyrian male seem even larger and more intimidating than he already is. 

“Dinner, my love.” he says, finally breaking you from your trance as he turns to face you. Your cheeks are flushed red when he turns to you and he smirks, knowing he just caught you staring. 

Before he can make any playful jabs at you for gawking, you let what’s been on your chest for the last day finally come out. 

“I wanna do it.” you start, looking at him with fire and lust in your gaze. 

“I mean, you always wanna do it–” he teases casually as he slides the plates onto the small table in between the kitchen and living room, “but can’t that wait? You need to eat, sweetheart.”

“No, no.” you shake your head at him, brow furrowing in frustration as you’re unsure how to word your next sentence. But fuck it, you’re just gonna say it, “I wanna try OnlyFaes.” 

“Oh,” he says and you swear his voice drops an octave when he speaks, “you wanna do that, huh?”

He moves in one quick stride to stand between your spread thighs, trapping you on the countertop by bracketing his large hands on either side of you. You peer up at him with wide eyes, nodding wordlessly as his shadows flicker around the two of you. 

“Are you sure?” he questions, his hazel eyes going dark as his mind races to impossibly inappropriate places. 

“Yes,” you say confidently, reaching one hand up to tug through his dark hair, “I want you to fuck me on camera, Az. Wanna show the world how good I can be for you, Sir.” 

The tension in the air is palpable as you draw out that last word, looking up at him with lust-filled eyes as he towers over you.

“I told you not to call me that unless you can handle finishing what you’re starting,” he nearly growls, hands coming up to grip your hips tightly, “and right now, you need to eat, not start this teasing shit.”

You hum in response, a glint of mischief in your eyes as your hand trails from his hair and down to the back of his neck, pulling him down and into a passionate kiss. He groans against your mouth, pressing your body against his by tugging your ass to the edge of the counter and making you wrap your legs around his waist. 

“What if I’m not hungry and I wanna finish what I’m starting?” you tease, angling your hips up to meet his, only the thin fabric of your underwear and his sweatpants between you two, as you’re only wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of underwear.

Azriel doesn’t have time to make any remarks before you pull him back in for another searing kiss. He keeps his lips on yours as one hand finds its way between your thighs, making you whine against his lips as his fingers hover over your core. Your hips buck into his hand as his index finger swirls over your clothed clit, making him groan as you nearly melt under his touch. 

“Gods, thinking about me fucking you in front of a camera turns you on this much?” he teases, kissing down the side of your neck as you nod enthusiastically at him. He only chuckles and pushes the cloth of your panties to the side, slipping a thick finger into you without warning. “Such a good little whore for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, Az.” you nearly plead, continuing to nod as he pumps the finger in and out a few more times before adding another. “I’m your little slut, wanna show everyone how good you make me feel.”

He hums in approval as you grind against his fingers, which drive into you quickly as you grip onto his shoulders to keep balance on the counter. His shadows travel beneath his shirt that you’re wearing, teasing your nipples as he focuses on your dripping cunt and swollen clit. You’re almost completely lost in the pleasure, that familiar knot forming in your stomach at a rapid pace while you whimper against his neck. 

Just as you’re about to reach that sweet release, all stimulation from the male and his shadows stops, his hands back against the counter as he leans in to give you a chaste kiss on the cheek. You stare at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing as if you’re a fish out of water as you look at him in disbelief. 

“You need to eat and you’re not cumming until you do.” he says in a warning tone against your cheek before pulling away completely, motioning for you to follow him to the dining table after he smooths down your shirt and places your underwear back over your core. 

“Az,” you plead, trudging along behind the male towards the table, “what if I told you that I ate a little bit, like, two hours ago?” 

The male turns to look at you with narrowed eyes as he sits at the table, he definitely doesn’t believe a word you’re saying. 

“Some asshole asked for a salad and then sent it back at least five times because none of them were right, so Omar let me have one of the remakes because of all the trouble the ass put me through,” you explain, ignoring the chair Azriel pulled out for you to sit in, opting to shift onto your knees in front of the male, “I’m not even hungry.”

That was a lie, you were hungry, but only for him. 

He stares down at you, his face showing only cool composure as you crawl a bit closer to him on your knees, hands coming up to rest on his thighs as you sit between them. There’s a noticeable tent in his sweats in front of you, which you eye hungrily as one hand comes up to palm it through the thin fabric. You hesitate for a moment as he looks down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes, but continue when he doesn’t stop you. 

It only takes one tug on the waistband of his sweats to free his large cock, letting it spring back in front of your face before grabbing the length. You’ll honestly never get used to how big it is, how your hand barely reaches around the entire girth when you stroke it, how it fills you up to the brim every time it’s in your mouth or in your cunt. 

You stare up at him as he leans back in the chair, trying to keep his composure as you reach to kitten-lick and kiss the red, angry tip of his cock before attempting to take it into your mouth. He grunts as the tip hits the back of your warm throat, your tongue sliding over the underside as you fist the rest of his length that you can’t fit into your mouth. He looks down at you then, noticing the way your free hand snakes between your thighs and you rut your hips against your palm, desperately trying anything to cure the ache that he left between your thighs. 

It’s then that he decides he’s not hungry–for anything except for you–anymore.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Azriel whimpers finally, tugging at your hair to pull you off his length. You look up to him with a furrowed brow, glassy eyes and a frown, disappointed in his denial. “You’re such a little needy cockslut, aren’t you?”

Before you can reply, you’re tugged from the ground and thrown over the male’s shoulder, making you squeal in surprise. He pushes the chair out of his way before turning on his heels to walk towards your shared bedroom.

“C’mon, love.” he murmurs as he kisses the outside of your upper thigh that’s nearest to his head, “let’s go practice for the camera.”

________________________________________

In all honesty, you never thought the two of you would actually follow through with this, but here you are, kneeling on your bed in the apartment you share with Azriel, wearing a new white silk slip over a matching lace thong while he sets up the camera facing where you’re sitting on the bed. 

“Are you sure about this?” Azriel asks for probably the fifth time in the last ten minutes, searching your gaze for any signs of doubt before he turns the camera on.

“Az, I’m fine.” you assure him once more, pushing your nerves down as you stare at your beautiful boyfriend from across the room. “Now let’s get this shit started before I’m not horny anymore.”

He raises a brow at you and chuckles, toying with the buttons on the camera you borrowed from Nesta once more.

“Ready?”

You nod, watching Azriel closely as he clicks the button to turn the video on. 

“Sit up straight and look pretty for me, sweetheart.” he says while taking a step towards the bed, “wanna see how beautiful you look before you get all fucked out on my cock, even though I love how cute you look then, too.”

You’re amazed at how quickly he switches into his usual sultry and serious tone, you immediately obey his command by straightening out your back, peering up at him through your lashes. You’re glad he’s acting like he normally does in the bedroom and is trying to make it seem as though it’s just the two of you as much as possible, like he’d promised the night before. 

He takes another swift step and he’s at the foot of the bed, thigh brushing against your knee as he presses against the mattress. Your eyes rove over his body, taking in his bare, sculpted chest littered with swirling tattoos, his wings flared behind his shoulders, the silver chain adorning his neck, his black boxers hiding his best assets, all making your heart–and core–flutter. He reaches for your chin, gripping it lightly to force your gaze to meet his lust-filled eyes. He smirks down at you, taking in every inch of you.

“Hi love,” he nearly purrs, one hand falling to the strap of your slip, toying with the silk between his thumb and pointer finger, “I like this little outfit, is this all for me?”

“All for you, Sir.” you respond sweetly, fighting the urge to reach up and pull his lips down to yours by pressing your palms firmly against your bare thighs.

“Such a sweet girl,” he coos, fingers trailing through your hair towards the nape of your neck, tugging at the locks to make you whine. “You’ve been such a good girl for me, sitting pretty while you wait for me to set up. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

Your eyes light up at his words, nodding quickly as he chuckles at your enthusiasm. At this point, you’ve almost forgotten about the camera pointing at you, your brain nearly turned to mush just because of Azriel’s sweet yet domineering demeanor, just like you always do when he takes control.

“What kind of reward do you want tonight, love?” he says, watching you fidget excitedly under his touch.

“Wanna cum for you, Sir.” you say shyly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks as you stare up at him, “Wanna cum on your fingers, a–and your cock.”

“So greedy,” he teases, one hand roaming toward the swell of your breasts, “But since you’ve been such a patient girl for me, I think I can make that work.”

You nod excitedly in response, grinning as Azriel leans down to pull your lips into a swift kiss. He pulls away as quickly as he pulled you in, moving to sit behind you on the bed instead of standing in front of you. He situates you between his spread legs, adjusting to where you’re leaning against his chest with your knees bent and your thighs spread, putting you on full display.

He makes quick work of exploring your body, one hand kneading your right breast while the other pushes the hem of your slip up. You crane your neck to look up at him, a pout forming on your lips to silently beg for a kiss. Azriel obliges, releasing your breast to grip your neck, squeezing slightly as he pulls you in for a kiss. 

His other hand continues to roam along your spread thighs, massaging the soft skin with touches teasingly close to your core. You whine into the kiss, canting your hips against his hand to gain more friction as he teases you. His fingers brush against your clit once before pulling the lace thong down your legs to throw it on the ground, exposing your glistening core to him and the camera. 

“Gods, you’re so wet.” he mutters against your cheek, one finger sliding into your heat with ease as you whine. “That’s it, such a good girl.”

Your head falls against his shoulder as you bite back a moan and snap your eyes shut, grinding your hips against his hand as he slowly pumps the digit in and out. His hand squeezes your throat then, a low disapproving growl falling from his lips making your eyes fly open to look up at him.

“Eyes on me, baby.” he warns, thumb reaching up to circle your clit as he adds a second finger, your mouth falling open in a silent whine as he does. “And don’t bite back those moans, I wanna hear you.”

You nod up at him with wide, glassy eyes as his fingers increase in speed, making a crude noise as they drive into your dripping cunt. Azriel groans above you, cock hardening against your back as you squirm and moan. His fingers are unforgiving, allowing you no time to adjust as he brings you closer and closer to your peak. He looks away from you for only a moment, taking the chance to look at the two of you in the viewfinder next to the camera. The screen shows you sprawled out in front of him, staring up at him with glassy eyes as his shadows swirl around your waist and arms to keep you firmly against him. You look so fucked out already, desperate for more as his fingers pound into you. 

“Look at you,” he chuckles, turning back to actually look down at you, eyes trailing along your form. “Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

You nod quickly, a moan falling from your lips as you grip his large thigh, squeezing it firmly to keep yourself in place. 

“Already so fucked out that you can’t even speak, huh?” he teases while tightening his grip on your throat to elicit a squeak of pleasure from your lips. “I haven’t even given you my cock yet, and you’re already a dumb little cockslut?”

“Y–Yes, yes, yes” you whimper, the words nearly a chant on your lips as you feel that familiar warmth winding up at your core. “I’m your dumb little cockslut, Sir. Just–Just wanna be your good girl and–and cum for you.”

It always amazes Azriel how easily you fall under a spell when he touches you, how easily you trust him with your pleasure like this. He smirks down at you, but can’t hide the adoration shining in his eyes as kisses your cheek gently, a stark contrast to his rough fingers in your heat and his skittering shadows holding you in place.

“So good for me, sweetheart.” he mumbles against your skin, nodding at you. “Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.”

His words are your undoing, making you fall apart almost instantly. Your body shakes as you cum, and you feel nothing but white hot pleasure as he continues his assault on your core. You can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears as you tighten around his fingers, but you know Azriel is murmuring words of praise in your ear as he watches you writhe under his touch. He doesn’t relent when you come down from your high, fingers still pumping into you while his thumb circles your clit as you attempt to squirm away from him, but fail as his hand on your throat along with his shadows hold you in place. 

“P–Please, I–I can’t.” you cry out, eyes wide as you plead with the male and twist in his arms. “I–I wanna cum on your cock now, n–not your fingers, Sir. Please.”

Azriel smirks as you beg, but finally slows his fingers to a halt and releases your throat. 

“Since you were so good for me, I guess I can give you what you want.” he teases, repositioning you to sit in the middle of the bed once more, kneeling behind you this time. He kisses your shoulder as he tugs his boxers off, pulling at the silk strap of your slip. “Why don’t you take this off for me, sweet girl.” 

You nod mindlessly as your eyes wander towards the viewfinder, remembering that you’re not exactly alone in this scenario. A deep blush spreads across your cheek as you pull the slip over your head, catching a glimpse of your bare body on the screen. 

“So sexy,” you hear Azriel rasp out behind you, bringing you back to reality as he reaches for your hips, pushing your knees apart as he kneels between yours and presses your ass against his painfully hard cock. “You want my cock now, sweetheart?”

“Yes, please.” you plead, craning your neck to look back at him again. 

He hums in approval as he kisses up your neck, stopping at your ear. His breath fans against your skin as his teeth graze your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine as you wait for his instruction.

“Go ahead and bend over for me,” he orders, watching you with lust-filled eyes as you bend at the waist, pressing your chest to the bed with your ass still pressed against his cock. 

Azriel’s shadows flick out then, tugging your hands to bind them behind your back, leaving you defenseless against the male behind you. He lets out a low groan as he takes you in, one hand kneading the fat of your ass as the other fists his length, teasing it between your folds slowly. You whine in response, craning your neck to look up at him with wide, needy eyes. The sight behind you is enough to make you fold immediately, enough to make you bend at any whim that he has. He’s staring at his cock with heavy-lidded eyes, arm and chest muscles flexed as he holds back the urge to slam into you right then. His wings droop slightly, but you can’t help but notice the way they twitch as his hips roll against yours. A moment later, he looks forward to meet your gaze, silently searching your eyes for any signs of hesitation, but finding none. 

“You gonna be a good girl and take what I give you?” he questions, raising a brow at you as your hips rock back against his once, twice.

“Yes, Sir.” you reply quickly, eager to see how he wants you. 

“Good girl.” he nearly purrs, voice low as he finally slams into you, cock filling you to the brim as you let out a small moan. “Fuck, always so tight.”

Azriel’s vice grip on your hips is the only thing holding you up as he fills you to the hilt, tip rubbing against your cervix with brutal force when he bottoms out. You can only cry out and take what he gives you as he picks up speed, just like he wanted. He smirks down at you, mind spinning as he takes you in; takes in how your ass bounces against his hips with each thrust, how your bound fists squeeze tightly behind your back, how your eyes brim with tears as you cry out in pleasure as he pounds into you.

“Gods, it feels like your cunt was made for my cock,” he remarks, squeezing his eyes shut to push off a premature orgasm. “You love when I fuck you like this, don’t you? You love being at my mercy and going dumb on my dick, don’t you?” 

“Yes, yes, I–I love it!” you nearly yell followed by a string of moans falling from your lips as a rogue shadow snakes around to toy with your clit. “F–Fuck, you’re so big, s–so full.”

“I know, sweetheart. You’re taking it so well, though.” he praises, continuing his punishing pace. “I know you can give me another orgasm, wanna see you fall apart on my cock.”

“I–I’m already close, Sir.” you admit, blushing as you peer back at him. “N–Need to cum, please.”

“That’s okay, baby.” he says gently, slamming his hips into you again as he slaps your ass lightly once. “You can do it, you can cum for me, baby.” he urges while his shadows press into your clit even more, “Cum on my cock, make a mess on my cock and I’ll reward you with my cum.”

The thought of him cumming in you spurs you on more than it should and before you know it, you’re cumming on his length, walls spasming around him feverishly as you cry out. Azriel curses under his breath as you do, only moments before he reaches his own climax, release coating your heat as his hips falter. 

You swear you almost black out as you come down from your high, a whirlwind of emotions and sensations flooding your body as Azriel slows behind you. Once he stills, you relax, a small whimper falling from your lips as his shadows retreat from your body and your hands fall to your side once more as the rest of your body relaxes. You don’t know how long the two of you stay there, and barely notice Azriel pulling out of you and sliding off the bed, quickly moving to turn the camera off before returning to your side. He sits down next to you, peering down at you lovingly as you blink at him slowly. 

“Hi, love.” he says gently, reaching over to push your hair out of your face.

“Hi, Az.” you reply tiredly, rolling over onto your side once you’ve caught your breath.

“You did so good for me, baby.” he coos before turning to the bedside table to grab the glass of water and washcloth he’d set out before you began earlier. “Take a drink for me.” 

You sit up slowly, taking the glass to take a long sip as Azriel runs the washcloth over you legs and core, cleaning the slick from your thighs. Your heart flutters as he takes care of you, falling more and more in love with the male with every second he spends focused on you. He looks up as you finish off the glass of water, taking it from your hand before kissing your forehead lovingly. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks, genuine concern shining in his eyes, trying to decide if he missed any signs of your discomfort during the scene. 

“I’m great, Az.” you say with a veritable smile, cupping his cheek to pull him in for a quick kiss. “That was amazing, you’re amazing.”

You swear you see a blush pass across his cheeks at your compliment, a smile gracing his lips as he nods at you. “How about you get changed into something comfortable while I order us some Thai takeout, yeah? We can eat on the couch and watch your favorite movie, and I’ll even give you a massage if you want.” he suggests, leaning down to kiss you again. 

Your eyes light up at his suggestion, giggling happily at him, “You always spoil me,” you reply against his lips. 

“Only because you always deserve it.”

________________________________________

It took you a few days to get the courage to finally post the video to your page, but you finally did. Nesta convinced you that she would help you edit the video. She even went as far as offering to ‘shout you out’ on her page, which entailed you posing with her in a pair of skimpy lingerie to post on her feed. Azriel wasn’t happy about that at first, but didn’t try to stop you from doing it, knowing it would only boost your page and get more engagement for your video thanks to Nesta’s established following. 

You posted the video three days ago and essentially avoided opening the OnlyFaes app after that, scared to see the results of your scandalous endeavor. 

So, when you returned from your evening class, you didn’t expect to find Nesta and Cassian lounging on your couch with Azriel, seemingly celebrating something with a bottle of champagne. 

“There she is!” Cassian cheers when you walk in, grinning widely at you while reaching for a glass of champagne to hand to you. 

“What’s this for?” you question, hesitantly taking the glass as you take the seat on the couch next to Azriel, who leans over to press a kiss to your forehead in greeting.

“We’re celebrating,” Azriel murmurs against your skin, a half-amused smirk on his lips as he looks down at you when you furrow your brow, “Celebrating our success. The champagne was entirely Cassian’s idea.”

“Your video was a hit,” Cassian laughs, wiggling his eyebrows at you mischievously. “We just wanted to come say congrats.”

“Oh, it was?” you say, eyes widening as you reach for your phone quickly. 

“It seems everyone loved both you and Azriel.” Nesta interjects, watching you with a smirk as you navigate to your OnlyFaes app. 

You quickly open the app, noticing how the Notifications tab has a red bubble above it that says 99+ before clicking on your profile. Last time you checked, you only had one subscriber–Nesta’s account–and now you have over two thousand. You scroll down to the video, clicking on the thumbnail. The sight of 302,000 views makes your eyes widen once more, wondering how you missed all of the notifications from the apparently semi-viral video. Before exiting out of the video, the amount of comments catch your eye, urging you to scroll to see them.

faebae12: GODS he’s soooooo hot…and the way he looks at her!!! I need a male like this in my life.

daycourtbabygirl: his mouth is so fucking dirty and she’s SO sexy i need more of them ASAP

biggestwingspan9: came so fast. need someone to go dumb on my cock like this 

subslut1000: what i would give to be between them…so fucking good

sizequeen75: ohhhh my gods his cock is so big i need to be tied down with shadows and fucked like that

The sound of laughter finally pulls you from your trance as you sort through the endless comments talking about how much they love the two of you, you finally look up to see Nesta and Cassian staring at you expectantly. 

“I–I really didn’t expect this to happen.” you say sheepishly, blushing deeply as they continue to stare you down. 

“You need to have more faith in yourself,” Nesta chides, raising a brow at you, “This is just the beginning, and you’re already doing so well. You were so hot.”

“You–You actually watched it?” you stammer.

“Of course I did,” she chuckles, and Cassian nods next to her while elbowing Azriel encouragingly. “I think you look like a great time, and who knows, maybe we could collaborate someday when you’re more comfortable. I would love to do some more dom work alongside these two,”

Cassian smirks at Nesta in agreement and you expect Azriel to tense beside you, but he doesn’t. You look to him then, and he smirks down at you as well before kissing your cheek. 

“What do you think, love?” Azriel says, raising a brow at you, “Should we keep doing this and see where it takes us?” 

Your mind races as you take in the whole situation, letting the fact that you were actually successful with this escapade finally settle in. A smile crosses your face then, core heating at the thought of continuing to let Azriel fuck you on camera. It sounds insane, but you truly don’t care anymore, especially since you both enjoyed it so fucking much.

“Yeah.” you say with a wide grin, “Yeah, I think we should keep going.”

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