#and Elain's quiet confidence in this one thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

olive-main · 4 months ago

Note

oooo if you’re interested would love to see your take: reader is Azriel’s mate, nobody knows. The inner circle keeps trying to set him up with females (including Elaine & Gwyn). They like reader but don’t view her as an option for being his partner. Lots of angst, she’s hurting, she overhears them saying she’s not an option for him. Up to you what happens for her and Azriel. Loved your last story, and that you wanted more angst ideas!! And if this isn’t what you’re looking for, all good!

Between Us Alone

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel’s mate overhears a conversation that shakes her confidence in their hidden bond, but he reminds her that love, even in shadows, is unbreakable.

Wc: 1.2k

A/N: Annndddd welcome back to our regularly scheduled programming. This time I come with the gift of some fluff (with angst ofc bcs duh—who do y’all think I am?) Enjoy the happy endings while they last…..evil laugh

Masterlist

——

The corridors of the House of Wind were quiet, save for the faint hum of conversation that drifted from Rhysand’s office. You’d gone looking for Azriel, hoping he might steal away from his “boys’ night�� early and join you at your shared apartment.

A secret, the two of you. Hidden in plain sight. Quite fitting for Rhysand’s spymasters.

It was exhilarating at first—the quiet smiles across rooms, the fleeting brushes of hands, and the stolen glances when no one else was looking. But there were cracks now, small fissures of insecurity that made you wonder if keeping the bond private had been the right choice.

Your footsteps slowed as you neared Rhys’s office, voices clear now, though you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were about to knock when you caught the sound of Cassian’s boisterous laughter.

“Oh, come on, Az,” Cassian said, his tone teasing. “You’ve been spending all that time with Gwyn. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Gwyn’s sweet,” Rhysand added. “And she clearly enjoys your company. You’d make a good pair.”

Your heart clenched painfully, the words hitting you like a physical blow.

Azriel’s reply was quieter, almost unreadable. “Gwyn is a friend. I’m not looking for… that.”

Cassian scoffed. “You say that now, but it’s been centuries, Az. When was the last time you even tried to let someone in? Gwyn’s perfect for you—kind, strong, clever. She gets you.”

“She’s not the only option,” Rhys said smoothly. “There are others. Nesta’s mentioned a few priestesses who would be good matches.”

Cassian nodded in agreement. “There’s also Y/N.”

You pressed your hand to the doorframe, your breaths shallow as you heard Cassian say your name.

“No, I don’t see them together. They rarely speak to each other outside of missions and a few shared words at dinners.” Rhysand says with a shake of his head as if the thought of you and Azriel together was the most unlikely thing he could think of.

You shouldn’t have stayed, shouldn’t have listened, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. They didn’t mean to hurt you—you knew that. You’d always been on the periphery of their circle, a friend but never a true equal in their eyes. Azriel’s shadows had been your sanctuary, his quiet love a solace you cherished.

But to hear them speak so casually, as if you weren’t even a possibility…

Azriel’s voice cut through, firm and unyielding. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker. I can handle my own life.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Cassian said, clearly amused.

“Drop it,” Azriel snapped, his tone brooking no argument.

The room fell silent after that, but the damage was done. You turned and fled, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step.

—

The space you shared with Azriel was small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Velaris where no one thought to look. It was your haven, the only place you could truly be yourselves without prying eyes or whispered questions.

But tonight, it felt suffocating.

You sank onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as the doubts clawed at your mind.

This charade was necessary. You both knew that. If they ever found out you and Azriel had been together for months—years, now—it would complicate everything. Not just for him, but for you.

As Azriel’s partner, you worked in the shadows as he did, your work as vital and delicate as his own. Secrecy was second nature to you both, and you’d agreed early on that revealing your bond—to anyone—was too risky.

You’d thought you could handle it. But moments like this, when they talked about Azriel’s love life like you didn’t exist, like you weren’t his, made you question how much more you could endure.

You told yourself it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. He hadn’t encouraged them. He’d even told them to stop. But the weight of their words lingered, stirring fears you’d tried so hard to bury.

What if they were right? What if Azriel deserved someone like Gwyn, someone who could stand beside him without the need for secrecy?

You didn’t hear the front door open, too lost in your thoughts to notice the familiar sound of Azriel’s footsteps until he was standing in front of you.

“Something’s wrong,” he said immediately, his hazel eyes scanning your face. His shadows swirled around him, restless and sharp. “What happened?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing. Just tired.”

His brow furrowed, and he crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Don’t lie to me.”

The sincerity in his voice nearly broke you. You looked away, your throat tightening as you tried to hold back tears.

“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Tell me.”

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But you couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I went to Rhys’s office,” you admitted quietly. “I was going to find you, but… I heard you all talking.”

Azriel stiffened, his jaw tightening. “What did you hear?” He already knew. There was only one part of the conversation that could’ve had you so distraught.

You swallowed hard. “They… they were trying to set you up with someone. Gwyn, mostly. Rhys mentioned others.” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “They said I wasn’t even an option.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his shadows curling tighter around him.

“They didn’t mean it to hurt me, I know that” you added quickly, seeing how Azriel was ready to go back and pummel his brothers. “They don’t know about us. But… it still hurt.”

He exhaled sharply, standing and pacing the room. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “They had no right—”

“They care about you,” you interrupted. “They want you to be happy. And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone like Gwyn. Someone who—”

“Stop.”

The word was a command, sharp and unyielding. Azriel crossed the room in an instant, kneeling before you again. He took your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle.

“Don’t you dare doubt this,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare doubt us.”

Tears spilled over, and he reached up to brush them away, his touch achingly tender.

“You are my mate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You. Not Gwyn, not anyone else. You are the only one I want, the only one I will ever want.”

“But they—”

“They’re idiots,” he said flatly. “I’ll deal with them. But don’t let their ignorance make you doubt what we have.”

You searched his face, finding only unwavering certainty in his eyes.

“I love you,” he said, his voice softening. “More than I thought I was capable of. And I don’t care if they don’t see it. I see it. I feel it.”

A broken laugh escaped you, relief washing over you like a tide. “I love you too.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the world.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I never wanted you to feel like this. I thought keeping the bond private would protect us, but if it’s hurting you—”

“It’s not,” you said quickly. “Not really. I just… I needed to hear this. To hear you.”

He pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours. “You’ll never have to doubt me again.”

——

Aren’t they just so sweet *sigh*. Thank you for reading <3

Requests are still open ;)

2K notes · View notes

multifictional · 3 months ago

Text

A Court of Burning Seasons || Part 1

— > eris vanserra × archeron!reader, lucien vanserra x elain archeron

• Part 1: Elain starts to confide in her sister, y/n remains close off but offers support while they both prepare for a festival in the human lands. Elain remembers her moment with Lucien as she told him about her choice.

• Summary: [Y/N] Archeron always felt the pull of autumn, even as a human. The fallen leaves, the warm colours, the spicy sweets, even her birthday. For Elain, it was the sun and the way of feeding her gardens and flowers with its light. Together in the Night Court after being thrown into the Cauldron, they both feel out of place. But while Elain has her growing bond with Lucien, [y/n] remains an outsider. With her powers still silents even after years, she feels a longing she can't quite place. A mating bond with Eris Vanserra is the last thing she expects and also what she seemed to need. But nothing is ever easy as it seems in Prythian, especially not with Beron impeding presence and courts rivalries always finding a way of creating complications.

• Warnings: focused mostly on elucien and the relationship between Elain and y/n, with a mention of Lucien’s past love. Eris doesn’t appear yet, but his time will come soon enough I promise!!

• Word count: 5k (I know, it’s so long and I’m sorry, but it was necessary for the set up)

[introduction]

You didn’t hear Elain come in, or maybe you just pretended not to.

The late afternoon sky outside your window was already inked with stars, Velaris perpetual night cloaking the city. It seemed midnight, though the day was far from over. That was how things worked there, darkness at every corner, every hour. Extremely beautiful for some, but strictly suffocating for you.

Elain hesitated at the doorway, her footsteps soft but not silent. She wasn't unfamiliar with the sight of you, still and quiet, your mind clearly somewhere else. It was usual. You always were lost in thought, but there was something now that made her pause with familiarity. The guarded way you carried yourself, the weight behind your mask of silence, Elain knew it all too well. She understood it.

Because it was similar to the weight she had been carrying, too.

Still, she was the one that understood you the most.

“Do you miss it?” Elain asked, finally breaking the silence.

You didn't move, didn't turn to look at her. “The human lands?”

Elain stepped closer, her voice softer now. “Everything.”

The question lingered, filling the room like a breath neither of you were ready to release.

“It doesn’t matter," you said at last. Your voice was low, but there was no mistaking the bitterness in it. "It's all the same. I didn't belong there, and I don't belong here. My destiny has taken an awful liking in reminding me I never belonged anywhere."

Elain's expression softened further, though she said nothing. She knew you well enough to recognize when you weren't ready to hear her argue otherwise, although she wanted to. But even in your stubbornness, she could see the truth in your words.

She was no stranger in how you felt in your past human life.

Elain stepped beside you, her gaze following yours out of the window and into the starlight horizon. “Were you counting them?”

You blinked and stared at her, startled for just a moment before putting your walls back on. But Elain wouldn't give up.

“Is that your replacement of picking up fallen leaves?” she teased gently, though there was no mockery in her words, only her usual apprehension, the only one capable of getting at you.

Elain had always known why you started doing that in the first place, if only counting stars didn't made things worse. Stars could never comfort you like dying leaves used to. They only reminded you of how out of place you'd always been.

“I tried,” you managed an half smile. “Not the same at all.

The silence returned, thick but never heavy, familiar in its own way. Usually, Elain wouldn't mind it, both of you thrived in the unspoken words of your bond, which never needed constant noise to affirm itself, especially not after what had happened with the Cauldron.

But today, Elain had come to talk.

And you were too observant to miss it. The way she seemed... different. Nervous, relieved, and even impatient, it seemed.

“There is a reason in particular you came here?” you prompted, casually. “Or you just wanted to be delighted by my presence?”

"Yes. There is," she said, shifting awkwardly. Her voice was light, but you caught the nerves she tried to hide behind it. "Two reason, actually. And you won't like one of them."

"I won't like it, you say? I'm almost afraid to ask," you turned to face her fully, your arms crossing over your chest. "Start with this one, then."

She gave you a faint smile before giving in to your request. "Feyre and Rhysand will be coming too.”

Your response was immediate. A sharp snort, deliberate, more amused than anything else. Of course they would. "Should I be surprised?" you said, rolling your eyes. "They don't trust us to handle our own, don't they? They just can't help themselves. Of course, Mother forbid us stepping out out of their sight for more than a minute!"

Elain winced at the sharp edge of your tone, but she said nothing. You turned away then, pacing towards your bed as you muttered to yourself. "They believe Velaris is the only thing worth protecting, but they expect loyalty in return, while keeping us at arm's length. They want all of us to fall in line, no question asked at all."

It wasn't the first time you said something of the sorts, and Elain doubted it would be the last. She knew what you felt about Feyre and and Rhysand, and how your sister's action had shaped your existences without consent or consideration. Elain didn't disagree, not completely, at least. She had learned, eventially, to make her peace with it in a way you hadn't.

“At least we can go back, for once," she said, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. "To the human lands, to the festival."

Sensing how hopeful and excited she sounded, you gave her a pointed look, skepticism written all over your face. "We both know why we're really going. Do you thing is about reminiscing sweet old times? No, it's not about the festival. It never will be. It's an excuse about politics for them. Checking alliances, keeping tabs on humans. That's all it ever is."

"Maybe," she patiently conceded. "But does it really matter why they go? We could still enjoy it, you know. A quiet night. Away from here. Together."

Your hesitation crumbled, just a little. Elain could see the resistance in your expression, but also how mentioning to step outside the Night Court, even for a few hours, was the right string to pull. You would do anything to get away from Velaris, and she knew it. It was the only way you could finally breathe, at least for a little while.

With a final sigh, you relented. "You know I'm coming. I already promised you this. And I've never broken a promise to you, not once. And you know it."

Elain's smile grew, relieved by your acceptance. "No, you never did."

That simple truth, the unwavering loyalty you shared, even more than with your other sisters, meant more to her than she could put into words. But that wasn't all. There was something else she needed to address with you. The weight of it pressed heavily on her chest like a machete.

"Besides, it's autumn time in the human lands, you will enjoy it."

You tried to seem indifferent. But the mention of the season that always made you feel a little bit like home, made your eyes sparkle. Elain noticed that, and smiled amusingly.

"What's the other thing?" you prompted, watching her closely.

Elain checks blushed hard as she looked down, deliberately avoiding your gaze. She didn’t know how to start this conversation, but she knew you were the only one she could trust. She lowered herself onto the edge of the bed, but it was you who talked first.

"It's about Lucien," you guessed.

She froze, not expecting your straightforwardness. Then, slowly, her head moved in a quiet nod, tentative. “You’re the only one I could talk to. Feyre is… I don’t know which part she would take, and Nesta…”

Your brows lifted. There was no need to say more. Nesta’s dislike for Lucien was no secret, she didn’t even try to hide it, she never did. The passing of time didn’t soften her, all the contrary.

You sat beside her, while still giving her the space she needed. After a moment, you talked. “Don’t mind Nesta. She has her own life now, she made her decisions. Now, you make yours. It’s not about her, it’s about you.” You placed an hand on her shoulder, a rare gesture coming from you, but still treasured for Elain. “You shouldn’t follow anyone’s expectation.”

“Not even Lucien’s?” she asked now, her voice trying to be steady, but failing.

“I’m sure Lucien has no expectations of you. Hope, maybe, but no expectations.”

“Yes. He told me as much. Repeatedly.”

“Follow your heart, Elain. Don’t think of what the Inner Circle would want you to decide. Not what Nesta would like to see. Not even what Lucien’s hopes are,” your voice grew steadier by the seconds. “You always wanted to have a choice. You can’t have what you had before, I’m not going to lie, but you can still choose for yourself.”

“I’ve made my choice,” she admitted. Her voice wavered, but there was a soft determination beneath it. “I gave Lucien a chance.”

You stared at her. There weren’t many things that stunned you, but this certainly did. It wasn’t the revelation itself that came as a shock, it was the strong conviction in her voice. That was the Elain you knew. The Elain everybody else didn’t even know existed.

She chuckled softly, taking advantage of the moment. “I thought about it for a long time. And I realised, we both deserve to find out what this could be.”

You took her hand in yours, offering a rare, genuine smile she so often brought upon you. “If this is what you have decided for yourself, it can never be wrong. It’s your life, your mistakes, your choices. No one gets to take them for you, and you’re certainly allowed to make wrong decisions, but you will never know if you just follow everyone else’s standards.“

Her eyes glittered with gratitude, and for the first time in a long while, you saw not the broken pieces of your sister but someone stronger, someone rebuilding. Her true self, strong and determined, finally taking voice.

And as she remembered the very moment she made that decision, you squeezed her hand before letting go.

Earlier that afternoon, Elain sat cross legged on a blanket in the middle of the garden, her hands bloodied by her recent gardening, though she barely noticed. A cup of tie was cooling beside her, untouched, a plate of pastries forgotten, as she stared at the flowers she'd been tending just a moment before. They were thriving, growing beautifully, but this place, beautiful as it was, wasn't the garden she had in the human world she'd left behind. It wasn't hers.

A subtle and familiar tug at the edge of her awareness distracted her. She had ignored it for months, years even. But recently, resisting had become impossible, more than usual. It felt too insisted, too present to deny anymore. Which was strange, since the mating bond hasn't snapped into place for her yet. She almost had hoped it never would. Almost.

She lifted her head just as a flash of auburn caught her eyes.

Lucien. Her… mate.

He was far away, his russet hair catching the light, but her chest tightened as though he was already standing beside her. His presence had been haunting her dreams, creeping into her thoughts, and now even her visions. Vivid glimpses of him, flashes here and there, lingered in her mind more often than she cared to admit.

Sensing her gaze, Lucien's head snapped up and their eyes met. He froze mid motion, finding himself lost in awe by her soft beauty, her petite frame in the middle of the grass, her blue dress all around her like an aura. For him, she was the ultimate vision.

Elain flushed and quickly looked away. The damage, though, was already done. He started to walk closer.

He always did.

It was a matter of seconds before he was standing right before her, his tall frame casting a shadow over the blanket. He spoke carefully, trying to temper his natural boldness. It was as if he expected her withdrawal.

"Everything alright, lady Elain?"

Elain tried to ignore the stuttering of her heart and the tug of the bond caused by the sound of his voice, warm and deep. She avoided his gaze, focusing on her hands instead. "Everything's fine."

Lucien's sharp mechanical eye zeroed in on her hands, still speckled with blood. Without thinking twice, he knelt, taking one of them into his. His touch was light, almost reverent, as he inspected the scratches.

"You're hurt," he murmured.

Elain tried to pull her hand back, but his grip was too firm. "It's nothing," she insisted.

"It's not nothing," he replied, holding her gaze, his golden eye far too serious. It took her aback. "You should never be harmed. Not even by thorns, not by anything.”

For a moment, his words, and the way he said them, stunned her. There was no condescension in his tone, no assumption that she was some little thing that needed protecting at all costs. This wasn't someone dismissing her strength. This was Lucien, holding back instincts she could barely understand. It didn't matter how much it tore him apart, he would still put her needs first and worry about her nonetheless.

And despite herself, Elain found herself half smiling. The smallest curve of her lips, fleeting as it was, made Lucien's heart lurch. He committed it to memory, knowing he might not see it again anytime soon. It was the very first time Elain had smiled at him.

Elain didn't know how to name the butterflies that started flying in her chest as Lucien, with a movement of his hand, erased the scratches from her skin.

"What if I liked it?" she asked suddenly, her question almost a challenge.

Lucien blinked, too distracted by their closeness. "Like... what?"

"The sting of these scratches. What if I like how they feel?" the amusement in her voice surprised even her. "What if that's the reason I love gardening so much?"

Lucien's lips quirked into a smile. "It is?" He appeared really curious about this. As if he wasn’t waiting for anything else than getting a glimpse of her. Even as little as it might be.

Elain hesitated only for a second before giving him a slight nod. She didn't realise it, but with only one sentence she had given him more than years of failed conversations.

Lucien chuckled, the sound warm, his voice softening. "Then I will heal your every scratch so that you can enjoy the sting of the thorns all you like as many times as your heart desires, without worrying about your hands."

Lucien stepped back, not wanting to overstep, giving her the space she always seemed to need. He wouldn't take her arm when she barely offered just the tip of her finger. But Elain felt his absence like a weight pressing on her. The silence between them grew suddenly tense, and she found herself breaking it before she could stop.

“I don’t even know what my heart desires."

Lucien studied her carefully. “That much was clear,” he answered, unable to held back his response. “But you’ve got all the time you need to figure it out."

“Is it that easy to find out?” she met his gaze, the question slipping out of her mouth before she could think better of it. “And what does your heart desire, Lucien?”

His expression tightened for a moment. He closed his eyes briefly, as if to steady himself, then opened them, meeting hers.

Hearing his name in his voice was something majestic. But, how could he answer that question? How could he say those words without seeming an overbearing male, pressing her?

“I suppose it would be to know where you stand," he admitted softly, the weight of the words pressing on his chest.

“Where I stand?” she echoed, her brow furrowing. When the meaning behind his words hit her, she blushed, looking away again. "Oh."

After debating it for a few seconds, Lucien sat down on the edge of the blanket, leaving a careful distance between them. It took everything in him not to take her hand again, but he kept his movement measured. He cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Do you regret asking?”

Elain shook her head. "No. I figured you wanted the truth."

"I do," his was quiet now, a deep note of sincerity. "That's all I ever wanted from you."

For a long moment, Elain said nothing, lost in thoughts. Finally, she looked at him again. Lucien waited for her to force the words out.

“Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "For always granting me the space I need, for being honest and for... for keeping up with my constant refusal.”

Did she really said that out loud?

Lucien's eye softened, though his jaw tightened, as if holding back a thousand things he wanted to say. Instead, he just nodded, his voice as gentle as she'd ever heard it.

“Your life changed overnight. I would never anything on you, let alone myself.”

Elain looked surprised and she stuttered, unable to find the right words. “But I thought… that day…” she trembled, the trauma of that fateful day still too deep ingrained into her mind. “When you said that we were…” she breathed again, shaking her head. “I thought you were stating a claim.”

Lucien’s breath hitched. He didn’t expect that.

All the unease, all the resentment he felt through the bond, was because she had always believed he was… what? Stating that he had a right to her? Laying a claim on her?

“You misunderstood,” he said gently. “It wasn’t anything like that. Not for me. I would never do that. I was just… surprised. That’s all.”

“Surprised?”

Lucien’s hesitated, his hart beating fast. Memories of his past flashed in front of him, painful. He didn’t like to share, to reminiscing how much he had to endure. He didn’t plan to talk about this with his mate, of all people, either. But he knew she deserved the truth.

How would Elain ever trust him if he wasn’t willing to give her something, anything?

Swallowing down the pain he still carried even after centuries, he spoke up. “I had someone too.”

It was all he managed to say. And Elain understood instantly, her mind wandering back to the human lands, to Greysen, his ex fiancé and the same one he turned against her after her transformation. She remembered how she had hoped he would still want her, that their love was stronger than a mating bond, stronger than her new looks. But she had been mistaken.

“It was centuries ago. We always thought we were mates. But the bond never snapped into place.“

Elain stilled. “But it did with me.”

“Yes,” the honesty in his voice was raw. “I barely whispered the words. But you were newly made like us, your senses had sharpened. I didn’t think before talking, but I was too surprised, to stunned, to do anything else.”

Slowly, every pieces found its rightful place in her mind. And in that moment, she realised something. The mating bond wasn’t something she asked. Of that, she was sure.

But it wasn’t something Lucien asked, either.

"Is she...?"

Lucien's voice turned sharp. "Yes. She's gone."

Elain swallowed hard, her heart aching for him. They had both lost.

Perhaps the Cauldron wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps this bond wasn't just a cruel twist of fate. Perhaps this was the door towards their second chance. With each other.

She handed him the plate of discarded biscuits, an innocent gesture to lighten the moment. “Take one.”

But Lucien's reaction was anything but light. His russet eye darkened. Her offering felt innocent. Too innocent. A surge of rage dwelled inside him, as he barely held back a growl.

Had anyone at all explained her how faes work? How to move in this new life, in this new body? Or they just discarded her, as if she would know everything just because she was a seer?

"Do you even know what offering food means for us, Elain?" he asked, firmer than he realized but still gentle. "Do not ever offer me food like that, especially if you don't know where you stand and if you don’t want anything to do with me or this bond. Just don't."

Elain was stunned by the dark edge in his tone that betrayed the fire beneath. She froze, stunned. Realization dawned on her, and her cheeks burned.

And that’s when her movement stilled, right at the motion of standing up. She looked at him, who was frozen, ready to let her go, resigned, and Something in his look gauged at her insides. She swallowed, as the truth in front of her laid finally bare.

She had misjudged him, blinded by her pain and trauma. She was the seer, yet she hadn't tried to see him, to understand.

"What if I want to try?" she whispered.

Lucien's heart stopped. He stared at her, searching for the truth in her words, fearing he could have misread. There was no reason Elain, the same girl that had ignored him for years, would suggest something like that. But the thing was, despite her refusal, he never stopped hoping. For the first time after he recognized her as his mate, he felt something else than her rejection.

"I’m not saying I'lI accept it," she clarified, her voice resolute, but she wouldn't apologize for her sharp tone. He wanted to know where she stood? Then he would have his answer. “But I’m tired of running from the truth. Instead, I want to understand it. To understand you."

His eye softened, hope blooming in his chest. He tried to restrain himself and he let out a long breath. “You don't own anyone anything, especially not me."

“I know," she replied softly. "But my stubbornness is not doing us any good. I understand now that whatever this is, is something we both have to live with, not just me. And... I won't refuse - or accept - anything, until I don't understand it."

Lucien’s mechanic eye looked through her, as if trying to convince himself that she wasn't under any spell. "If that's something you want, that is your decision alone, then I will give you whatever you want. Time. Patience. Space. Honesty. But, especially, I swear I will not take more than you're willing to give. Not ever."

She smiled sincerely for the first time in years. And it was directed at him.

"I can take honesty and patience," she murmured, an almost amused smile on her face. "But I think I already took space and time well enough for a lifetime."

Lucien shook his head, tentatively approaching her. "Doesn't matter. If you need them, just say the word, and that’s what you will have."

"Thank you."

Lucien hesitated for only a second before reaching out, silently seeking her permission first. Elain didn't move, and so Lucien let his hand linger on her face, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin.

And as he tucked a lock of hair behind her hear, Elain knew she would never forget the look on his face.

It was as though she had handled him the world.

And, perhaps, that's exactly what she did.

Back in the present, Elain grew quiet, her gaze distant as if lost in a labyrinth of memories. You didn't dare interrupt her, letting her have the moment she seemed to need, not pushing, not asking questions. Instead, you turned your attention to your wardrobe, absently sorting through the dresses hanging inside.

Blue and dark. The typical palette of the Nigh Court. You couldn’t help but snort, shaking your head.

Elain stared at her hands for a long moment, as though searching for the right words. “He’s coming with us to the human lands,” her soft voice reached you tentatively but steadily. “It will be our first official... date.”

You turned, a smirk already forming on your lips. “Already calling it a date?” you teased. “Does he want to court you now?”

Elain blinked, cheeks tinting pink/then looked away. “I don’t… I don’t know. But I want to be ready.”

"Ready?" You chuckled knowingly. “You’re serious about this.”

Elain's fingers played with the edge of her sleeve, her expression distant for a moment. “I am,” she admitted, her tone holding an uncharacteristic firmness. Then, as if deciding something, she said softly, “I want to make a good impression.”

You leaned against the wardrobe, arms crossed. “Oh, darling,” you shook your head, grinning. “You already have Lucien wrapped around your little finger. Quite literally, he had been ready to court you since the moment you were made. You don’t need a fancy dress to make any impression. That poor male will lose his mind just by looking at your eyes.”

Elain blush deepened, but she didn't deny it. “I just want him to know I’m serious about this. That I’m not just… playing around.”

Your heart softened. You wanted to tell her that he already believed that, that she didn't need to prove anything. You knew how much he wanted this, a real chance with Elain. Over the years, you'd grown close to Lucien, enough to count him as a friend, maybe the only one in that place.

Elain knew that, and it had never been an issue. You'd never pushed her to share more than she wanted with him. But now, seeing her trying to step out of her shell, and choosing to move forward instead of always look back, differently from you, made you unexpectedly proud. She deserved this. They both did.

“Then you'd better wear your best dress,” you grinned.

Elain sighed, brushing her fingers along the fabric of her skirt. “I don’t like Night Court fashion but… I think it will have to do for now.”

“I've got you covered here, sister," you offered. "I miss my human clothes too.”

Elain turned towards the door, but not before throwing a sly glance your way over her shoulder. “You don’t miss human dresses, y/n, you just miss their colors.”

Scoffing, you wavered her off, even though she wasn’t completely wrong. "Oh, please."

But her amused voice carried on. “You will be back in those shades you’ve always obsessed over soon enough. You could already, if only you weren’t so stubborn.”

You let her go, without responding, her words lingering in the room like a distant echo. She wasn't wrong, though. There was nothing stopping you, if you decided to. You wouldn’t let anyone, not even the Night Court’s Inner Circle, dictate anything for you, let alone your choices. And there were plenty of shops in Velaris selling the vivid, warm and earthy tones that once defined you. Yet, something about wearing them here, in this court, under their scrutinizing gazes, it just felt... wrong.

So you just went along. Stuck to the dark, muted colors of the court, as you let them cloak you like a shadow.

You never belonged anywhere, anyway. Fae or human, it didn't matter. Even now, reunited with your so called family, you would always be out of the world. An outsider everywhere you went.

It was easier to just... remain that way and to play along with it.

And that was fine. You were used to that.

Later, you and Elain met at the top of the stairs. She practically buzzed with excitement, her hands fluttering nervously at her side. You, in contrast, barely managed a shrug. The only thing pulling you along was the promise of leaving Velaris behind, at least for s little while. Even if Rhys and Feyre's presence would still follow.

"Are you nervous?" you asked, glancing at Elain.

She drew in a deep breath. "A little," she admitted.

Together, you descended the stairs, and here they were. Rhysand and Feyre, in their usual black and blue attire, and Lucien, dressed in his ever-effortless finery, stood talking with them.

The moment Elain arrived, though, his attention shifted entirely. His gaze swept over her, taking in the way her light blue dress flowed around her frame, her hair loosely pulled back, as if she had fretted over it but stopped herself from doing too much. She glanced back, her gaze almost hesitant but lingering, testing the waters of her own bravery. When their eyes met, her heart stumbled and his eye softened as though he could see every unspoken thought she couldn't yet voice.

You walked behind Elain, letting them have their moment, and you didn’t need to look at Feyre to feel her gaze studying you, dissecting you. The sigh that followed was soft, but you heard it light and clear. Another silent judgement, but you ignored it, as you always did. You had gotten used to the way the Night Court worked: all control wrapped in silk and smiles. Feyre's mask was perfect, but it didn't fool you.

"Let's try to keep it subtle and to not draw attention to ourselves, shall we?" Feyre said, her arm already tingled with Rhysand’s. It was impossible not to notice the way all of them, Rhysand included, used their hair to mask the pointed ears as much as possible.

You snorted at her words. Subtle. Hide. That was always the answer with them, wasn't it? Blending in, so would somehow make you less of a target. But it didn't matter, because you could blend in all you wanted and you'd still feel the same.

Why going to the human lands at all if you had to hide what you were?

If only they could understand. This wasn't just about hiding pointed years. You had spent your entire life, both of them, feeling like a shadow in someone else's world. And now, even here, you wore a mask all of them believed in, never letting anyone see past it.

It was a mask you had worn so long that you weren't sure how to take off, even if you wanted to.

As the group prepared to winnow, you couldn't help but notice the way Lucien stood closer to Elain, his fingers brushing hers before gently twining them together. The gesture was tentative, as he expected her to pull away. But she didn't. Instead, she glanced up at him with a quiet smile reddened cheeks.

At least your sister was getting there, slowly but surely.

And, for now, that had to be enough.

Part 2

A.N: I apologise again for the length, I hope the next chapters will be shorter. If you arrived here, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you liked that! Also, my asks are always open, so if you want to ask something about this story or make a request, I answer everyone!

If you want to be added in the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @wrenisrad @antisocial-architect @homeslices @fox-in-flowers @thecraziestcrayon @bunnyredgirl @lizzytish82 @lportes-22 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @iowaladynerd @samuelseoswife

186 notes · View notes

thewulf · 1 year ago

Text

Escapism || Azriel

Summary: Request -can you make an azriel x night court reader fanfic request? I was listening the song escapism by raye and this just kinda came to me! It's kinda unhinged so you can change whatever if you choose to write it. Y/N and Lucien have been together for like 100+ years but then Elain Archeron comes along and they are mates so lucien begrudgingly breaks up with Reader... Read Rest Here

A/N: This one is sad but gets sweet towards the end. Reader is in her feelings!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Night Court Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k +

TW: Drunkeness, reader being mean, some physical altercations

Your relationship with Lucien had always felt destined. Willing it to be woven by the threads of fate and bound by centuries of love and laughter. For over a hundred years, you and Lucien had built a life that straddled the boundary between the Autumn Court and the Night Court, which you called home. It was a life full of compromises and sacrifices, but every moment was a testament to the depth of your affection for each other.

But fate had a funny way of not being so destined. Elain Archeron stepped into the picture. Her very presence unraveling the future you had envisioned. When Lucien revealed that Elain was his mate the foundation of your world crumbled. This wasn’t just about losing a lover. It was about the rending of a bond you believed was unbreakable. Lucien’s voice trembled with conflict as he confessed the truth. His amber eyes reflecting a pain that echoed your own. He didn’t want to leave you, but the mating bond was not something either of you could fight. It was powerful, demanding, and absolute. It was destiny.

Amidst your heartbreak a more piercing pain emerged when you discovered that your friends—Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and even Nesta—had known about Elain and her bond with Lucien before you did. Half of the Inner Circle knew, and the other half was excluded. Amren, Mor, you and Azriel were the ones left in the dark. They had kept it a secret hoping to protect you from the inevitable heartache. Yet this revelation only deepened your sense of betrayal. How could they, the ones you considered family, keep you in the dark about something that would shatter your life?

The night you found out was an uncomfortable one. You weren't usually one for confrontation, but the rage that built up inside you was ready to explode. As you sat among Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian, and Nesta in the quiet, imposing space of the House of Wind the air felt thick with tension. They began to explain, voices low and fraught with anxiety. They each detailed how they had known about Elain and Lucien’s mate bond for months. Their words were meant to be comforting but were instead filled with reasons and justifications about protecting you from heartache, sparing your feelings until they absolutely had to share the truth.

Sitting across from them in the quietude of the House of Wind you couldn’t hold back the surge of anger and disappointment that welled up inside you. "How could you?" you demanded, your voice quivering not just with sorrow, but with indignation. "You all knew. For months, you knew, and not one of you thought to warn me?"

Rhysand had a somber expression. He was the first to respond. "We struggled with whether to tell you," he admitted. His usual confidence replaced by a hesitancy that did little to quell your growing resentment. "The last thing we wanted was to see you hurt."

"And yet, here I am. Hurt all the same," you shot back. The pain sharp in your voice. "Hurt and betrayed. You chose to protect me from heartache but instead you ensured it."

Feyre reached out with her hand tentative and unsure. "We thought we were doing the right thing. We thought it might not happen. That maybe the bond wouldn’t take hold right away and..."

"And what?" you interrupted ripping your hand away from her touch. "That I’d what? Be spared the pain? Look at me, Feyre. Do I look spared to you?" Your voice was sharp. Sharper than you’d ever spoken to any of them before.

Cassian who was usually the one to lighten the mood sat unusually quiet. His usual bravado nowhere in sight. Nesta had her jaw set, her eyes revealing a turmoil that mirrored your own. It was a rare glimpse into her often-guarded emotions.

"It was never about doubting your strength," Cassian finally said, his voice low. "It was about giving you happiness for as long as we could."

"Happiness built on a lie?" you asked. The irony was bitter on your tongue. "Is that what our friendship is about? Lies?"

The room fell silent, the tension palpable. Each of them struggled with their choices, now clearly regretting the pain those choices had caused. It was evident in their downcast eyes and the slump of their shoulders. It was a shared burden yet unequally felt.

"I'm not just some fragile piece of glass," you continued. Your anger only fueled by their silence. "I deserved to know, to make my own choices. To prepare, or... to say goodbye on my own terms."

The conversation that followed was a painful unraveling of trust and intent. As they each tried to explain, to justify, you realized that this wound would take time to heal. Perhaps what stung the most was the realization that their intentions had robbed you of your agency. Leaving you to a mere spectator in your own life. They spoke of protection. Of sparing you pain. Each explanation threading through the air with the weight of unspoken truths now laid bare. Their voices blended into a cacophony of excuses, each one fueling the fire of your anger and hurt further.

Rhysand’s voice held a note of desperation as he tried once more to explain, "We only wanted—"

"Would you just shut up! All of you!" you erupted cutting him off mid-sentence. Your voice, resolute, sliced through the room. "I don't want to hear it. Nothing you can do or say will make this right.” The room went deathly silent. The gravity of your words hanging heavily between you. Their faces were etched with regret and shock at your outburst. It was a stark reminder of the deep rift that had formed within your group.

You stood abruptly. The chair scraping sharply against the floor. "I can’t be here," you stated flatly. Your voice colder now, resolved. Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, each step echoing your departure.

You needed space. Needed air to breathe away from the stifling atmosphere of justifications and apologies. You decided to go to Mor’s place. She too hadn’t known about Elain and Lucien. She hadn’t been part of the deceit that had upended your world. As you left the House of Wind the open sky above seemed to offer the first breath of true freedom since the revelation had shattered your peace.

The walk to Mor’s was quiet. The streets of Velaris holding a serene calm that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you. Reaching her house, you knocked briskly, and she opened the door with a surprised, yet immediately concerned expression.

"Can I stay here for a bit?" you asked without preamble. The weariness in your voice more pronounced now that you were away from the others.

"Of course," Mor responded instantly before stepping aside to let you in. Her eyes searching yours for the pain she was quick to sense. "Whatever you need."

As you stepped into the refuge Mor offered you felt a slight unclenching in your chest. A small relief in the acceptance of a friend untouched by the deceit that had marred your trust in others. You hoped to find the space to heal. To gather the scattered pieces of your heart and perhaps, in time, to forgive. But for now, you simply needed the quiet understanding of someone who had been kept in the dark as much as you had.

Compounding your agony was the necessity to leave the Autumn Court where you had spent half your time with Lucien. You had to come home completely now, full-time to the Night Court. Each step away from the Autumn lands was a reminder of the isolation waiting for you back home. Away from the life and love you had known. The Night Court felt more oppressive than ever. It was supposed to be your sanctuary but now it only served as a cage. It was trapping you with your memories and your pain.

Despite the profound sense of betrayal and the sharp sting of heartache that pervaded your days you chose to stay because Velaris was still home. It was here among the winding streets, the starlit skies, and the vibrant buzz of the Night Court that you had grown, loved, and dreamed. Leaving would mean abandoning not just the place but the fragments of yourself that still clung to the hopes and dreams you’d nurtured here. The thought of leaving Azriel, the one constant who understood your pain without needing words, whose silent strength had become your sanctuary, felt like severing the last thread of stability you possessed. In the depths of your turmoil, Velaris, with all its darkness and lights, remained a place where healing seemed possible. Where the pieces of your broken heart might someday mend.

You withdrew into yourself. Your nights consumed by reckless escapades and endless drinking. You shunned daylight, avoided responsibilities, and ignored the worried glances of your friends. Azriel, who had always been a silent sentinel in your life watched from afar. His shadowed gaze filled with concern that you were too lost in your grief to notice.

This spiral of despair drew you deeper into the depths of the Night Court where you sought oblivion in the bottom of a glass. You hoped and prayed it might wash away the ache in your soul. Your heart felt like a hollow shell, beaten, and bruised by betrayal and loss. You had to wonder if you’d ever find your way back to the light.

As the days bled into nights your world narrowed to the dim corners of taverns and the bitter burn of liquor. Training sessions were skipped, duties neglected. Each glass raised was an attempt to erase the sting of wasted years. You had given a century of your life to Lucien, woven dreams and plans tightly around a love you believed was mutual. Only to find it undone by a destiny that held no space for you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that your love had been a placeholder until his true mate appeared.

You felt like a fool, a pawn in the grand scheme of their secrets and politics. This revelation forced you into isolation. You could hardly stand to look at the people that left you in the dark. Let alone speak to them. Only Mor and Azriel became your solace. Mor who had also been kept out of the loop shared in your feelings of betrayal understanding the deep cut of being excluded by those you loved. Azriel, too, had been kept in the dark, his complicated feelings for Elain used against him to justify the secrecy. You found it cruel. A manipulation of his unspoken affections that only deepened your trust in him, knowing that he, too, had been a victim of their concealments.

Azriel watched over you with a quiet intensity. His shadows whispering of your pain in ways words never could. He knew the depth of your heartbreak having borne his own silent loves and losses. From the shadowed corners of the room, he observed your self-destructive spiral with a growing sense of desperation. There was an understanding in his eyes, a shared recognition of love unreturned that made him reach out to you despite your withdrawal.

Your interactions with Azriel became the few moments of genuine connection in your days. He didn’t push you to speak or to return to the life you’d left behind. Instead, he simply shared your space. Offering you a silent solidarity. His presence was your calm. And in his eyes you found the empathy you’d been denied by so many others. Yet, even this comfort was tinged with the bitter knowledge that it was borne from shared pain. Something created from the fragments of your broken hearts.

On one particularly rough evening, feeling the dull ache of wine coursing through your veins, you sought the familiarity of the library. It was a place that once offered solace, but now it felt like navigating an once beloved yet distant landscape.

Staggering slightly, you found yourself pushing open the heavy door of the library. The scent of old books and ink momentarily grounding you. Inside Mor was tucked into her favorite nook surrounded by a mountain of scrolls and books. Her presence immediately brought a smile to your face and without hesitation you blurted out, "Mor! My girl, let's go to Rita's." Your voice wavered with a mixture of forced cheerfulness and palpable pain betraying your already intoxicated state.

As you made this impromptu invitation you were acutely aware of Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel gathered in a solemn cluster near the grand oak table that dominated the room. Their conversation was likely heavy with undisclosed burdens. They paused abruptly as they noticed your entrance. The library usually a sanctuary of whispered lore and hushed dialogues felt oppressively silent as their eyes fixed on you.

With a deliberate effort to mask your pain with a veneer of cheerfulness you ignored Rhys and Cassian completely. Instead directing your gaze to where Azriel stood, his figure cloaked in customary shadows. "Hi, Shadowsinger!" you exclaimed. Your tone lighter than your heart felt. It was easier to pretend. To keep up the facade of resilience than to acknowledge the jagged pieces of your heart.

Mor quickly stood, catching the tail end of your forced merriment. Her eyes flickered with a mix of concern and understanding. She exchanged a look with the others. Her expression pleading for them to somehow mend the chasm that had opened between you all. But when she saw you purposefully ignoring Rhys and Cassian, her shoulders slumped in resignation. Recognizing the depth of your pain and your current incapacity for forgiveness.

She packed up her belongings. Her movements deliberate. "You're going one way or another, aren't you?" she asked you. Her voice was filled with a sorrow that mirrored your own. It wasn't a question, but a statement. A knowing of the inevitable path the night would take.

"Yes. I need to not think… just for a little while," you replied. Your own smile faltering as the false cheer began to crumble under the weight of your true feelings.

Rhys and Cassian exchanged a glance with a mix of frustration and regret marring their features. They understood that their attempts at reconciliation would be futile this evening. Azriel stood silent and observant. He met your gaze with an intensity that spoke volumes. He nodded slightly. A promise that he would keep you safe even if from a distance.

Even as you grappled with your feelings of betrayal and heartache Azriel had already found it within himself to forgive Rhys and Cass for keeping the truth from both of you. His capacity for understanding their motives. Flawed as they were by their protective instincts, allowed him to see past the pain they had inadvertently caused. Azriel recognized that their actions stemmed from a deep-seated desire to shield both him and you from the inevitable pain of Lucien’s bond with Elain.

You, however, found forgiveness not so easily granted. Your feelings of betrayal were compounded by the thought that your closest friends had decided your fate without your input. Treating you more like a fragile object to be protected rather than a person capable of facing harsh truths. While Azriel had moved towards reconciliation you remained rightfully stubborn wrestling with a wound too fresh to close

With Mor in tow, you left the library. The heavy silence settling back among the shelves after your departure. Azriel followed discreetly. A shadow among shadows. His concern a tangible cloak around him as he watched you attempt to drown your sorrows under the guise of revelry at Rita’s. The night stretched before you. It was filled with the echoes of what could have been and the sharp sting of what was now your reality.

At Rita’s the ambiance had devolved into a haze for you. Each drink an attempt to erase the sharp edges of your reality. The buzz of the crowd and the clink of glasses were a distant backdrop to the storm raging inside you. As you reached for another glass your movements were sluggish and unfocused. A stranger slipped beside you, his smile too eager, his intentions unclear. He offered you a drink with a slick insistence that made your skin crawl even through the fog of alcohol.

The moment your fingers grazed the cool surface of the glass Azriel materialized at your side. His movements were a blur. The glass knocked from your grasp and shattering against the hard floor with a resounding crash that sliced through the bar's cacophony. "Enough, Y/N," his voice cut through your stunned silence, low and laced with an urgency that tightened his features.

"Why?!" The word tore from your throat, raw and loud, fueled by the sharp bite of alcohol and a torrent of pain you no longer had the strength to contain. "Why do you care? Just let me drown it all out, Az! Let me forget!" Your words were a mix of accusation and desperation spilling out in a reckless cascade.

Pain flickered across Azriel's face His eyes darkening with concern. "It’s not safe, Y/N. That drink. That male was trying to drug you. I can't—I won't let that happen,” he insisted. His voice firm despite the chaos around you.

Rebellion surged within you, potent and bitter. "Don't do this to me, Azzy!" The nickname was usually a term of endearment but now sounded like a rebuke, heavy with your anguish. "You can't save me from this. Let me have this!"

Your attempt to pull away was futile against his strength. Azriel’s eyes scanned the crowd one last time giving more a quick nod, his decision made in the span of a heartbeat when she nodded back. With no other choice as you continued to struggle against him he wrapped his arm securely around your waist and winnowed you both away, the world dissolving into shadows. You reappeared on a deserted hillside just outside the city. The sharp, cold air was a slap against your heated skin. The stark silence a jarring contrast to the noise of Rita’s.

“I can’t watch you destroy yourself, Y/N. I just can’t,” Azriel implored, his voice thick with emotion as he steadied your staggering form.

"Destroy myself?!" you screamed back. The frustration and hurt boiling over. Your hands balled into fists. Your entire body tense with pent-up emotion. "My life is already destroyed, Azriel! I've lost everything. My love, my dreams, my worth! What's there left to destroy?"

In your anguish you lashed out physically, pushing against Azriel's chest with all the force of your despair. He staggered slightly but didn't push back. He of all people understood your need to vent the storm of emotions inside you.

“You haven’t lost everything,” he tried to reassure you but even he knew where your head was at. You weren’t going to listen to him.

"I have!" Your voice broke, raw and quivering with the intensity of your pain. "For a century, I loved him, Az. A century! And for what? To be discarded when his real mate shows up? What does that make me? Just a placeholder? I'm worthless, Az. If he couldn't even love me, who will?"

"No, Y/N, that's not true—" Azriel began but you cut him off again. Your hands pushing against his shoulders trying futilely to move the immovable.

"No, you don't get it!" Tears streamed down your face blurring your vision as you swung a punch. Your fist connecting weakly with his chest. He absorbed the blow with practiced ease. His expression pained more by your words than the physical contact. "Everyone has someone… Feyre has Rhys, Elain has Lucien now... and me? I'm alone. Utterly alone. Who could love someone so... so replaceable?" Your words tumbled out as a cascade of hurt and insecurity forgetting in your pain that Azriel himself had known the sting of unreciprocated feelings.

Azriel caught your wrists gently, stopping your strikes. His gaze intense, a mix of pain and resolve flickering in his eyes. "Y/N, listen to me," he implored. His tone firm yet tender. "I understand more than you know. I've felt that loneliness. That fear of being unloved and replaceable. But you, Y/N, you are not replaceable to me. You’re invaluable. You’re loved deeply by those who truly know you, even if you can't see it right now."

Your resistance faltered with tears spilling over as his words washed over you revealing his own vulnerabilities. You sagged against him, your energy spent, your sobs muffled against his chest. Azriel didn’t just offer comfort. He shared your grief, understanding it from his own unspoken heartaches.

"Because you mean everything to me," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the wind. A confession laden with the weight of his own once-hidden feelings. "And I refuse to let you believe you're anything less than that." In his embrace you felt a sliver of solace pierce the veil of your despair. Perhaps you weren't as alone as you had believed. In the quiet of the night with Azriel, you dared to hope that your heart could find a way to mend.

As your sobs quieted into weary, shuddering breaths on the hillside, Azriel recognized the depth of your exhaustion and despair. With a care born of years spent navigating the shadows, he scooped you up into his arms. His strength a quiet reassurance in the enveloping darkness. You were too lost in your own misery to protest. Your body limp against his chest as he winnowed you both back to the sanctuary of his room.

Once inside Azriel carried you straight to the bathroom. The soft glow of candlelight casting gentle shadows across the walls. Setting you down with the utmost care he turned on the tap letting cool water fill the basin. With a tenderness that contrasted sharply with his usual stoicism, he soaked a soft cloth, wringing it out gently before turning to you.

"You're safe here, Y/N," he murmured. His voice low and soothing as he began to dab at your face. Each gentle touch wiped away streaks of makeup and tears revealing the raw vulnerability beneath. His hands were steady and careful. Moving with a respect that honored your brokenness without making you feel more fragile.

Seeing you so shattered, so utterly surrendered to your grief, stirred a protective tenderness in him. After he had cleaned your face he helped you out of your clothes and into his own. Each movement was respectful and patient. His eyes averted to give you privacy even in your despondent state. He chose a soft shirt and loose pants. Clothes that would comfort rather than constrict. When you were dressed he guided you to his bed with his arm around your waist both a support and a shield. The world seemed to quiet as he tucked you under the covers.

You lay there, a small, fragile form in the vastness of his bed with your eyes staring blankly at the shadowed ceiling. Azriel hesitated, watching you with a mix of concern and a poignant ache to ease your pain. Unable to bear the distance, he lay down beside you. His body a careful line of warmth at your side.

As you lay next to Azriel his presence enveloped you in a tenderness you hadn't fully seen before. The night around you was quiet, the only sound the gentle rustle of the wind outside and your own unsteady breaths. Azriel's room was usually a place of solitude and shadows. It felt different now. Warmer, filled with a quiet strength and a palpable gentleness that radiated from him.

"Let it all out, Y/N," he whispered next to you. His voice was a soft command in the darkness, soothing and deep. His hand found yours under the blankets, his fingers intertwining with yours. You felt a sob rise again. The emotions overwhelming.

He didn't shush you or tell you to be strong. Instead, he squeezed your hand tighter. His grip a lifeline in the turmoil you felt. His presence was a vow of steadfastness. A promise not spoken but felt deeply.

Lying beside him, you realized you had never seen Azriel so openly gentle and caring. His usual reserve and cool demeanor were replaced by an earnest tenderness. It was as if the night had peeled back a layer of his persona revealing the depth of his empathy and the true extent of his kindness. This wasn't the Spy Master known to most. The one that was cold and calculating, always in the background. This was Azriel as only someone he truly cared for might see him. His kindness wasn't just an act of comfort. It was a testament to his genuine concern for you. To love you when you felt most unlovable. To be there in every low and hold you through every shadow.

"I'm not going anywhere," Azriel continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "You are loved, deeply. Even when it feels like you're alone. You are important to me. More than you could possibly know."

With Azriel's words wrapping around you like a gentle embrace you allowed yourself to believe, if only for a moment, that you might one day feel whole again. His kindness, his unwavering support reminded you that even in your most broken moments you were not alone.

Azriel didn't rush you or demand that you compose yourself. Instead, he simply held your hand throughout letting the quiet solidarity of his presence anchor you back from the tempest of your grief. As the emotional exhaustion of the day's events caught up with you, your eyelids grew heavy with the weight of sleep tugging them down.

With Azriel's fingers interlaced with yours and his calm breathing next to you, a profound fatigue began to blanket your senses. It was the kind of tiredness that came from having wept thoroughly and being in the presence of someone who demanded nothing of you but to be yourself. Slowly, the room around you seemed to fade away as you drifted into sleep. The echoes of your turmoil quieting into silence under the protective watch of the Shadowsinger.

As the first rays of dawn began to filter through the curtains you stirred, slowly emerging from the restless grasp of sleep. Your body felt heavy. Each movement laden with the remnants of last night’s despair. As you shifted, trying to orient yourself, you realized you were entangled with Azriel. His arms loosely draped around you, his body a protective barrier against the chill of the morning.

Opening your eyes fully, you met his gaze—alert, intense, yet filled with a softness that was reserved only for moments like this. He had been watching you. His eyes tracing the lines of worry and sadness that had settled on your face even in sleep.

The memory of last night's breakdown. The raw pain, the tears, the desperate words, rushed back in vivid clarity. You were suddenly mortified. The intensity of your vulnerability making you feel exposed and small. You tried to pull away, intending to escape the intimacy and your own mortification. But Azriel’s arms tightened instead, gently but firmly keeping you in place. You faced him, cheeks burning, and your words stumbled out in a flustered rush.

"Az, I... I'm just so—sorry," you stammered as if the words tripping over each other. "For hitting you, and—everything. I wasn’t... I shouldn’t have..."

He was quiet for a moment. His gaze steady and understanding. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and calm, cutting through your babble of apologies with effortless precision. "No apologies," he said simply. His eyes locked on yours conveying depth beyond words. "It’s okay."

"But I lost control, and I—," you tried again. Your voice a tangled whisper of regret and embarrassment.

Azriel gently shushed you with a slight shake of his head. "You needed to let out," His tone left no room for argument. "I’m here. That’s what matters."

Your attempts to articulate the mess of emotions felt cumbersome and inadequate compared to his succinct reassurance. You swallowed hard. Your next breath shaky as you tried to reconcile the kindness in his actions with the turmoil you felt inside. The warmth of his embrace, the quiet strength in his few words, slowly coaxed the walls around your heart to lower. His acceptance was simple and unwavering. It granted you the space to be vulnerable without the burden of judgment.

"You're here," you spoke softly. A statement rather than a question. You allowed yourself to lean back against him, finding a measure of peace in the security his presence offered. In the quiet that followed his steady breathing became a reassuring rhythm in the soft light of dawn, anchoring you amidst the remnants of last night’s storm.

As you settled deeper into Azriel's embrace, comforted by the warmth of his body and the protective enclosure of his wings around you profound sense of security enveloped you. His wings isolated you from the chaos of the world and allowed the weight of your troubles to recede momentarily.

Within this intimate cocoon Azriel's hands gently soothed you, tracing calming patterns along your back and occasionally running his fingers through your hair easing away the knots of both stress and sadness. This gentle touch, combined with the protective embrace of his wings, invited a deeper relaxation and a fleeting peace.

"You're safe here," Azriel whispered. His voice a soft rumble that was both reassuring and grounding. "You will always be safe with me."

His words were simple yet deeply meaningful. They comforted you, encouraging a slow, steadying breath as each word seemed to ease a little more of your turmoil. Surrounded by his presence the room no longer felt like just a physical space but a sanctuary against all your fears and uncertainties.

As Azriel offered a rare comfort his mind was awash with thoughts and feelings for you. He had always admired your strength, your grace, and the kindness that seemed to illuminate your every action. Even when you were with Lucien he had noticed how your presence could soften the hardest of hearts and brighten the darkest corners. His feelings had been kept hidden. A secret shadowed beneath his stoic exterior as you had seemed unreachably intertwined with someone else.

Azriel's interest in Elain initially served as a safe distraction from confronting the deeper, more intense feelings he had for you. Now with the situation having changed and the possibility of being more than just friends emerging. He realized that his feelings for Elain had been a way to guard his heart against the more daunting prospect of a deeper connection with you. Recognizing this, Azriel was determined to be patient. He understood the importance of timing and your need to heal. He knew that any possibility of exploring something deeper with you would require careful consideration and respect for your emotional state. Thus, he was prepared to wait. He would offer his support and presence as you navigated your path to recovery, hoping that when you were ready, he might have a chance to express his true feelings.

In this quiet moment as dawn's light began to seep through the curtains, Azriel made a promise to himself for you. He would be there for you not just as a protector or a friend, but as someone who loved you deeply. Even if that love must remain unspoken for now. He would help you heal, support you in finding yourself again, and offer his love silently, unwaveringly, during the times you found it hardest to love yourself.

"Whatever comes next, I'm here. We'll face it together," he murmured. His voice a soft echo in the quiet room. This promise was not just a commitment to support you through your healing but a silent acknowledgment of his hopes for the future. A future where, when you were ready, he might share his heart openly with you. For now, though Azriel would be your steadfast shadow, a silent guard to you with a love profound yet patient. Waiting for the moment when your heart could welcome the depth of his.

As the morning stretched lazily into afternoon, the quietude of Azriel's room was punctuated only by the soft, rhythmic breathing of you resting against him. The previous turmoil had ebbed away leaving a calm that hadn't been felt in a long while. In this peaceful interlude you slipped back into a deep, restorative sleep, cradled by the warmth of Azriel and the secure embrace of his wings.

While you slept Azriel carefully extricated himself to prepare a simple yet thoughtful meal. He moved quietly, his shadows flitting about, almost as if they were checking on you. Ensuring that your slumber was undisturbed. He returned with a plate bearing a light lunch.

As the soft light of the afternoon filtered through the curtains you slowly awoke from the deep, restful sleep. You had been vaguely aware, even in slumber, of their comforting presence. Something that went beyond Azriel's physical proximity. It was his shadows, those silent watchers that typically hovered at the fringes, manifesting his will, and echoing his moods.

These shadows which normally adhered to Azriel’s strict commands with unwavering discipline, had over time, subtly changed their behavior around you. It started with small gestures—shifting slightly to cloak you in warmth when a cool draft swept through the room, or playfully fluttering around when your spirits were low, trying to elicit a smile. Gradually they had begun to act almost independently when it came to you. They were drawn to your innate warmth and light. The same qualities that Azriel himself cherished deeply in you.

As you stirred awake, stretching and yawning, the shadows seemed to mimic the morning’s embrace. Azriel watched from beside you with a slight smile playing on his lips as his shadows caressed your arms and legs. They were reluctant to withdraw their gentle touch even as you became more alert. He made a subtle gesture, a silent command for them to give you some space, expecting immediate compliance as always.

To his surprise and slight amusement, the shadows hesitated. They lingered around you. Their formless caresses a tender contradiction to their usual stark obedience. When you noticed their reluctance to leave you couldn’t help but to giggle. The shadows seemed to flutter with a visible delight, moving closer as if encouraged by your laughter.

"It’s okay, Az," you said. Smiling at the unusual scene. "I don't mind them, really. I actually quite like them."

At your words the shadows almost appeared to swoon, swirling around you with what could only be described as affectionate enthusiasm. Azriel watched this with a raised eyebrow and an ever-widening smile, clearly amused by their outright defiance when it came to you.

"They're not usually this defiant... or affectionate," Azriel remarked. His voice tinged with both bemusement and a hint of pride. "Seems they've taken quite a liking to you."

You watched the shadows swirl around with a playful grace. Their cool touch leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin. Smiling, you responded, "The feeling's mutual." At your words, one of the shadows playfully swooped up mimicking a kiss on your cheek.

The whimsical gesture drew another giggle from you, a sound so light and joyful that it seemed to brighten the entire room. Azriel watched you with a deep warmth filling his heart as your laughter echoed softly. The sound so rarely heard in your despair was so full of life and free from the burdens you had been carrying, It was a melody he hadn't realized he'd been longing to hear. It reminded him of the resilience and beauty within you, qualities he had always admired now shimmering through even in your laughter.

Azriel’s gaze softened as he watched you interact with his shadows. The corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine delight. It was rare for him to see his shadows disobey but in this instance he found the situation endearing rather than concerning. The shadows, so attuned to his deepest feelings perhaps recognized the special place you held in his heart and chose to express their fondness in the only way they knew how.

As you continued to enjoy the playful affection from the shadows, Azriel leaned back, content to observe the bond forming between you and parts of his own essence. This moment, light-hearted and filled with laughter marked a significant turn in your relationship. It showed not only his own deepening feelings but also the unique acceptance of his shadows, making you a cherished presence in both his world and theirs.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!) : @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @kenn-spencerswifey @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @avada-kedavra-bitch-187

Request Taglist: @thatacotargirl @impossibelle

582 notes · View notes

violetscar656 · 10 days ago

Text

"Emotions and Memories of Past" - Aftermath Part 2

Summary: Y/N is a member of the inner circle, sister to Rhysand and Cassian, best friend of Azriel. After the war and opening up to Azriel; she is now going on a mission, and needs to face another past.

Warnings: Kidnapping, torture, death, mention of mental illness, blood, mentions of wing cutting, graphic (sorta?)

Author’s note: Part 2 is here, and it’s kinda long and angsty. First of all thank you to everyone who has liked part 1. Secondly, if you didn’t read part 1, I highly suggest you do so to have a base for this one and the next. Comments are open to all suggestions, ENJOY!

“Are you ready?” I said standing in the balcony, ready to take flight

“Always” came an excited response

“Let's go for then”

The city of Velaris is beautiful at night, flying next to Y/N always made my mind go quiet

“You're falling behind”, you said, flying in front

“More like letting you win”

“Then catch me if shadowsinger” came a voice full of smiles

Azriel smiles at the memory; how long has it been since you two have flown together without worry, maybe before Amarantha?

Dawn cracking, Azriel stepped onto the training ground. It was an hour before Cassian was here, he started with his usual warmup

Shadow whispering, Azriel didn’t need to turn his back to see his brother walking

“You're up early” Ariel says, continuing with squats

“Yeah, figured both of us needed this” Cassian joins in, and starts with stretches

“What do you mean, brother?” Azriel stops mid squat and looks at him

“You're barely here, brother” Cassian huffs “Any free time you have, you're helping Elain,” Cassian responds, not bothering to look at Azriel, his focus on the high kicks

“What? Is that what I am doing? Wait, is that Y/N was so distant…. No, it can't be, I am always here for her, surely she knows that-- right?

Azriel goes down and starts with a plank “Yeah well, Rhys asked me to look after her”

“There is a difference between looking after and practically being her shadow” Cassian grunts up, holding his leg high

Azriel, falls his brother's words surprised him

Cassian, amused, turns towards Azriel, stopping his stretches, “Oh come on, you have to know that Az”. He puffs and offers a hand to him, Azriel takes it “Tell me one thing, brother” voice serious, “Do you love her?”

Azriel goes silent, his shadows quite

Do I love Elain? I don’t know, what I feel for her is it love? I don’t have much experience in that. He remembers what Rhys told him, loving someone is not just attraction, it is also peace of mind and heart. I don’t think my mind has been quite with her.

Azriel gets out of his stupor “Honestly, I don’t know” and with that truth, they began sparring.

---

You jerk up from bed, the sound of clashing swords waking you up. You get moving, seeing from your bedroom window the two Illyrian soldiers, you smile at the image in front of you, the normalcy in it, Maybe I’ll ask Feyre to paint it; with that thought, you get moving, to start a very, very long day

“Good morning” You sing, taking a seat at the dining table

“Morning, sweets” Cassian says, out of full oatmeal, one eyebrow raised

You scoff, “Swallow first, brother”, You feel a tug on your foot, looking down at the shadow creeping up your leg, you allow it

“You look ready to leave” Noticing your Illyrian leathers, Azriel points to your daggers “Exactly what manner is this mission?”

Swallowing, you say, “Hmmm, a level 5 or 6 , maybe” You take another bite

“Where will you be going?” Cassian asks, interested in this mission

You're quiet for a second, “Illyria” You confidently reply, not letting the past bother you

You take your gaze off your plate to the males sitting with you, Cassian's face alarmed, Azriel’s face unreadable but eyes full of fear and rage.

You sigh, “Don’t you two please, have some faith in me” You try to assure them “Brother, you taught me well” You say, looking at him “and Az, have a little confidence in your training!, you know I won’t get caught”

“But, you were” Azriel's voice barely on leash

“That was ages ago, I have grown since then, and also -see?” You take out the faebane antidote from your pocket “All prepared” you hum

Cassian let out a loud breath “Do you have to go alone? At least let me handle Devlon”

“Cassian” You look in his eyes and you let him see the need to go alone to go from here, even if it's to Illyria, a second passes by

You get up, “I should get going” with that, you leave

Flying towards Windhaven, you can’t help but think about, what happen the last time you came here alone. You didn’t say the whole story to anyone-

You were tied in some sort of dungeon, eyes blinded, sharp, piercing pain consumed you, dullness, sudden dizziness, and intense pain. No, no you knew what this was

“This whore thinks she better and stronger” a male voice said “Just because of a little magic and wings”

“W-what” You said, voice like gravel “Faebane” You concluded, struggling with the last energy you had left, too panicked, your mind wasn’t yours at the time. No this can't be, my magic, I can’t reach for it, Is this how it’ll end for me?

At least you knew the kidnappers will also not survive this, your family will destroy them. Family, your family, you can’t leave them, not like this, and Gods, Azriel, no, you couldn’t go before you tell him, no you refuse to give up like this. Az-Azriel he taught you well how to get out of the situation.

“Hmmm” Another male voice came ”We did get rid of her magic, wings on the other hand”, The second male voice said “I think I am going to enjoy keeping them, you know” You feel a hand grabbing your chin “ You know, as a trophy”

Utter PURE RAGE filled you, but you had to be patient, you trying to move but fail

“Oh, bird that is not gonna work” the second male said “I should get things prepared, you know, trapped birds’ wings are cut”

Fearmixes up with the rage you felt

You wait, for the coast to get clear, your hearing trying to pick up how many are near you, silence, you thank the mother before you began-

You move your bound hands to the wall behind to loosen the grip of whatever held them, pain so much pain, skin tearing, but you succeeded, the bonds were loose, and you broke them. The smell of blood hits you. And before you realised you moved intentionally, yanking your right wing, shredding it, sheer agonising pain, but you need to move. With your hands free, you remove the blinds, you check your surroundings, nobody. Breaking the rope that bound your feet and some kind of pin to your left wing, you leave

“You bitch” A voice came familiar one the first male, he launches towards you, years of training and instinct guides you.

The male was big, not someone you can’t handle, you move, grabbing him by his arm using his own weight to your advantage and flipping him on his back to the ground. Next, you cover his mouth with one hand, and put your body weight on his legs, noticing a dagger at his waist, you grab it with you other hand and plunge it into his heart.

Good, now you have a weapon. Sudden blinding pain from your wing, you take a look, horror fills in your eyes Madja, she’ll heal it she will you tear the male’s shirt from his dead body and bind your wing so that the blood stops gushing No flying from here.

Mother might have been watching over you, because there was nobody else. You get out and see the night sky, familiar woods greet you, the border of WindHaven, adrenaline buzzing in your body, you run northwest towards the camp. You do not know how long you were running for, or even if you reached the camp; the last thing you remember is a female's voice over you body calling for help

---

You land near the camp gates and walk towards the centre of the camp to let the leader know you have arrived. Curses and growls go in the background, you ignore them

“Devlon” You nod, standing in front of him

Devlon, face of menace, “What are YOU doing here?” His lip curls in disgust “When the High Lord said someone will be coming, I thought it would be one of his lap dogs”

You raise an eyebrow, “My brother does not need to give YOU an explanation” You say voice full of ice “And when it comes to Cassian and Azriel” You step forward “You're intelligent enough not to call them that, especially in front of me” Your eyes promise slow torture

“I’m going to the cabin, and you have one hour to gather all females in training” You declare, and fly towards the cabin

You enter the cabin, drop your bag and take off your jacket and start walking towards to kitchen

You take the teapot out of the cupboard and start filling it up with water-

“Did you arrive safely?” Rhys’s voice echoes,

“Yes I did”, You put the teapot on the stove “Devlon is so delighted to see me” Your voice dripping with sarcasm

“Sister, try to not push him, please? The Illyrian forces fought well in the war” Rhys calmly says

You roll your eyes, “Imagine how well they could have fought if the females were also trained and not clipped”

“He saw you fight, he knows he needs to get serious now”

You snort “NOW being the key word”

Seconds of silence

“I know better than to tell you not to go to the border, but please, Y/N do not “ concern lining his tone

“I thought you knew better” You say, teasing him, but you have to tell him what you plan “I need answers Rhys” You reply solemnly

Rhysand hesitates, “I-We cannot see you at death's door again” voice clipped with worry

You feel an ache in your chest “I won't be, and I came prepared” You say softly, taking the tea leaves and adding them to the boiling water. From where you were standing, you see something move near your jacket on the couch, your eyes widened in disbelief.

“THAT PRICK OF A SHADOW BOY” You shout mentally and out loud

“You tell him he is DEAD when I get back, and I swear Rhys, if he comes here unannounced, the night court spymaster position will be open, DO YOU GET IT?

“Okay, alright, I will tell him, but why?” Rhys asks amused

“Why? WHY! Because a shadow followed me, that’s why!” you practically roar

Rhys chuckles, “Although I doubt you'll do major damage to the male you love, but still got it” His voice is more relieved than you would like

You huff in anger, taking the cup of tea, sitting on the couch, glaring at the shadow, it recoils and hides behind the jacket.

“Did your master send you?” you ask the shadow, it comes out and goes left and right, as if to say no,

“Then what you followed me on your own will?” the shadow goes up and down, and you understood it wanted to say yes

You were wondering how it was possible, when you remember the shadow crawling up your leg at breakfast

“You hid in my jacket pocket, didn’t you?” an answer more than a question, the shadow goes up and down

You sigh, not able to be angry at the shadow, “Okay, this is what we do, you can come with me to the camp” The shadow dances “But you need to stay hidden” The shadow agrees

“And no reporting to Azriel” The shadow stops, you just stare at it, then it twirls around you. Okay we are in agreement then

You enter a weapons shop, frustrated at the lack of training the females are getting in the camp, Devlon making the excuse of war for every other problem you point out

“Hello welcome” the female behind the counter says

“Hello” You say, surprised to see a female behind the counter, and even more to see she isn’t clipped

She giggles, “A lot of people give me that look” You blink and mask your expression

“No, no, it is okay please, how can I help you” The shopkeeper asks

You sit down and explain to her the practice swords you want to be made, for the females in training, the weight, the height and the grip designed for them.

“So, you look someone in power, can I ask who you are?” The shopkeeper asks

“Oh shit! Where are my manners I’m Y/N,” you say, completely forgetting to introduce yourself, maybe Devlon did get on your nerves

The shopkeeper smiles, “Nice to meet you Y/N, I’m Lucy” You grin at her

The next day, you go to the training grounds earlier than expected, you see the males training but none of the females, and frustration rises. You go inside the tower to speak with Devlon, when a hand grabs yours. You whip, forcing the body towards the wall, unsheathing a dagger,

Scared green eyes meet yours, one of the females in training

“Sorry” You say “What is wrong?” you ask her, sheathing your dagger near your ribs

Her voice is hardly audible “Meet us near the old willow tree, by nightfall, we have a message”

We? Old willow tree,- oh by the grave, -near the border, you sigh

You nod to the female and head up the tower. It’s time to push the sorry excuse of a leader.

---

There were no words to describe how you felt; Devlon was a bastard. He babbled on about power and how females do not have the honour to wear siphons, even commented on your magic, calling it untamed; he told you to show how well you can fight, as if being the General’s second was not enough. Well, you did love the look on his face after beating his top 3 warriors this camp. You sat in the armchair in the cabin, the shadow that followed you bouncing around you, trying to cheer you up

“You are gonna stay here when I go” and immediately the shadow shakes

“I need to visit someone before the meeting” the shadow shakes again, you sigh “Okay, you can come, but you leave me alone before the meeting” The shadow stills, and slowly goes up and down, you give it a small smile

You sheath yourself with every weapon you have, not knowing what will happen near the borders, or to know if this was some sort of trap.

Dagger check, antidote check, sword check you look around, thin trendle slithers up and goes in the pocket- shadow check

You stop by a flower shop near the willow tree, and get lilies. Heart aching, you were going to visit someone whom you haven’t for over 50 years, someone whom you told everything to, someone who you miss terribly-

“H-hi mom” You whisper, eyes lined with tears

“I got your favourite” You lay down the bouquet on the grave

“I am fine, I am doing good, sorry I didn’t come here for a while. It’s Rhys' fault he hid us” you say “To protect, yes, but still” You say, half sobbing

“I miss you mom” You go down on your knees and start crying

This is the only place you showed your true emotions now, only place you expressed them openly without hesitation

Night is about to fall “A-and then he caught me staring at him” you say sitting next to the grave, eyes puffy with tears, You notice the sky and say “Mom I would love to sit and talk more but I need to get going” a sad smile come to your face “I’ll come again, soon this time, bye” giving a flying kiss you turn and exit the graveyard; nearing the tree you halt and look towards the dark corner

You raise your eyebrow, “We need to go” thin tendril comes out of the dark and circles your wrist “I am okay, let’s go”

You hide, taking cover by the tree just like Azriel taught you,

“Spying is the work of patience, silence and knowing your surroundings. Master these things, and you’d make a decent spy” Azriel told you when you asked him to train you

“And how about the unreadable face” You asked cocking up your head

Azriel smirked, “I’ll be impressed if you master that”

You hear footsteps, then mumbling, you try to figure out what it is

“I know she will come, just be patient and try not to look suspicious” a female voice said, no THE female voice said

You tilt your head to see 2 females, both in training, and wait, is that Lucy?

You look at the surroundings and then get out “I am already here” You say, eyes darting between the females

“What is going on here?” Your face unreadable

Lucy was the first one to speak, voice hushed, “We need your help” she pauses, take breath “There are suspicious activity going on near the borders” She says, walking towards you “Females are disappearing, for months” she says “And if they are found-“ she stops her face going pale

Voice low, the female with green eyes comes forward, “T-they don’t have their wings, and are either dead or near death” Your heart starts pounding, the mask of cold slowly shattering

You take a deep breath, a knowing sensation comes to you; you get yourself together “How long?” Your voice, more stable than you thought

“It’s mostly happening randomly, there is not one particular camp, that is why it’s going unnoticed” The female with green eyes said “But, guessing by what we know, years maybe” her voice filled with sorrow

The shadow flies from your pocket, goes to a distant

“How do you all kn-

The shadow tugs at your hand, silencing your words

“Wait here” You follow the shadow and see a group of males coming your way, “Go and tell him to come to the cabin” Your voice is barely a whisper “Unnoticed”

You rush to the females, “Someone is coming, I got your message, we need to leave from here” You tell them “Start with any random story that pops in your head, we laugh and walk towards your shop, Lucy” They all nod

---

You needed a drink, with the dreadful things you heard, the females who survived either killed themselves or went into deep depression. The description they gave was do familiar to what happened years ago. The female with green eyes, her name was Sara, and the other one Ruby

You turn towards Lucy “Please tell me you have alcohol” Lucy huffs out a laugh, reaches down the counter and takes amber colour liquid and 4 glasses

“May the Gods bless you, Lucy” that, from Ruby, the first sentence you heard her say

You welcome the burn of the liquor and finally ask “How do you all know this, and how did you guys get involved in this?”

Sara and Lucy glance at Ruby, she speaks up “They killed my twin” Ruby stares on the ground “I do not know if you will believe us, but this is a group”--“I know people in other camps, they confirmed this” she sighs “A group of manic males, who deserve worst sentence than death”

“They deserve slow, painful torture” You say

You knew this was all true, you just knew it, something very similar happened to you, but you got out, you fought. But the other females could not, even if they survived, their lives had no meaning, not to them. You knew what to do

Resolve dawning on your face “I’ll help you out, actually you’ll help me out” You say firmly “I cannot have 2 females in training risk their necks” You sigh, looking at Lucy “And you fall under less than 1% female population in Windhaven”

“I’ll speak with Rhysand, and make sure Devlon doesn’t get to know this” You say, looking at all three of them “You all can gather the information, but that is all, that’s the line”

Ruby speaks up in anger, “I need my revenge”

“No” You glare at her “What you need is to survive and learn how to fight properly” You say, putting up the mask of cool

You get up, looking at all three of them, voice filled with understanding, “I will not let this go, you 3 trusted me enough to tell this, then please trust me on this as well” You assure them

---

Azriel was sitting in Rhysand’s office, all three brothers present, having much-needed time together and whiskey. He explained how he did not send the shadow, and how the threat you made to his life was, well, cute.

Rhys laughs “That is true, Y/N will not be able to hurt you” Azriel hums with a much-needed buzz “But not for the reason you think, brother” Rhys spits out, Azriel raises up an eyebrow

“Well, we do know she can do major damage to you, Az” Cassian cuts in

They start a conversation on various topics, laughing when-

Cassian notices the shadow sneaking in from the bottom space of the door; he taps Azriel’s shoulder and points at it

The shadow goes to Azriel, whispering

Azriel shoots up the, gone was the relaxation, gone was the buzz; Rhys and Cassian just stare at him

“She needs me” with that he left

---

You entered the cabin with a grim look and possibly information that would make one deadly mission. You stood in the doorway and looked towards the living room. Guess he isn’t here yet. You sat down in the armchair, head down, hands at your forehead, all your things packed. The box inside your chest cracking ever so slightly. The sound of the door opening drew your attention. You looked up and saw him.

You can't help yourself, you're walking before you know, and you pull Azriel into a hug.

He returns the gesture, hugging you tight, letting go, he scans you for any injuries “What is wrong?”

You look at his silver-lined eyes “Winnow me to the Town House” Your voice small

Azriel's brow furrowed “You called me here to winnow?” His voice with disbelief, “Y/N do you even know how worried I was?”

The box inside cracks more, a tear slips from your face “Azriel, please, I’ll tell you everything, but I need to tell all of you together”

---

You sit in the armchair in Rhysand’s office, the air thick with tension. It’s been five minutes since you told them what you found out. You pour another glass of whiskey for yourself. Cassian walks up to you, takes the bottle, and pours one for himself.

Azriel break the tension “We do not know how true is this information” ever the spymaster

You take a long sip “I know it is true” a heartbeat of silence “I know it is true because” you take another sip “they tried to do the same thing to me” you say voice low

“W-what?” Rhys rasp

“The last time I went there, I told you all that I just got kidnapped and drugged me, using faebane” You stare at the group, the box inside your chest is shaking now “I lied, well, at least half of it” You say voice trembling

“Y/N you don’t have to” you hear Cassian say

You look at Azriel “I don’t have to, but I need to” The box burst open

And you tell them EVERYTHING, the parts you hid , what actually happened in Illyria, how you woke up in the dungeon, what the male said about your wings, how you escaped, how the last thing you remembered was a voice, and the next thing you remember was waking up in the healing chambers with Mor by your side. You didn’t know when you started crying, when Azriel came next to you and held you.

You look up “R-rhys?” you say

Rhys' face filled with sorrow “Why, why didn’t you tell this to us before?”

You feel the guilt “I didn’t want to be weak” Your voice a sad whisper

“Fuck” you hear Cassian grunt “Y/N when did we ever give you the impression that you are weak” he stands in front of you, and bends to your level “Sister, you are strong, the things you have faced and live through not everybody can” You look in his eyes and see the sadness and truth there

You just stayed silent, but your foot was tapping, a tell of yours, that there is more

Cassian takes a step and notices “What is it?” You stand up from the armchair and take 2 steps forward

You look at Azriel, who just nods in understanding, and you take a deep breath

“I lost you” You said, looking at Rhy’s “And you too” You said, looking at Cassian “I almost lost my brothers” You said, tears crawling back

Understanding dawns on Rhysand’s face, and his face turns white as a ghost. He knew you were troubled after the war, but this, he didn’t imagine this. He walks towards you and hugs you, your head plastered to his chest, and immediately you start to sob

“I’m sorry” Rhys says “I should have known better” he cups your face and starts wiping your tears “Y/N, listen to me angel, we are here, you don’t have to talk about this now if you don’t want to” he releases your face and holds you hand “But if you want to then we are ready to hear”

You muster up a sad smile, “I don’t wanna cry anymore”

You meet Cassian’s gaze, worry and confusion in his eyes, you look at Azriel who shakes his head, you sigh, “Telling them makes it better?” You ask, looking at Azriel

“It does” He replies with a soft smile “They’ll understand”

“You two need to sit” you say to your brothers

---

Exhausted! That’s what you were standing in your bedchambers in the House of Wind, you came back here despite the protest of Rhys, and Cassian’s demand that he carries you, you told them to stop becoming mother hens, but still, voicing your feelings that’s been piling up for months and years to them out and not just to your mother, you felt lighter than you ever did. Well, at least you didn’t confess your feelings to Azriel, you could not figure out if you were relieved or not about it; you changed into your nightgown, unbound your hair-

“Y/N?” You hear someone knocking at the door,

Opening it you were not surprised to see the male “Az”

Azriel leans on the doorframe and stares at you,

“What” You ask with a chuckle

Azriel’s gaze feels like an imprint “Just wanted to check up” He says coolly

“What are you doing standing there? Come in” You say

“I wasn’t invited in” Az replies

You snort moving inside “Since when do you need an invitation?- and to reply to your previous question, I’m much better” You smile at him “Thank you”

Azriel steps into your room, feeling of calm hitting him “Since there were so many confessions tonight,- I have one to make” Your heart starts pounding “I’m sorry, Y/N, I haven’t been around that much”

Your breath hitches, “It-its okay Az-

“It's not” He steps into your space, grabbing your arms gently “I didn’t mean to do it, I didn’t even realise it”

He cups one side of your face, your heart practically skips a beat “You were so strong tonight, dove”

“I don’t know about that” you say as nonchalantly as possible

“You were” Azriel says with a smile, you were just able to nod

This, this is the moment you wanna stay in forever, Azriel holding you close, his scent calming your nerves; couple of minutes past by

“I should go” Azriel states, voice hoarse

You smile “Okay” Your smile spreads “Goodnight Azzie”

Azriel smiles, eyes pools of warm honey, “Goodnight, dove” With that, he leaves your room

---

Azriel can't help but feel a warmth in his chest, maybe because things are slowly getting the way they used to be. He flops on his bed She cried a lot today, I have to make sure it doesn’t happen again. He flops again Her hair was looking like the night sky, dark and shiny, I wonder how they feel. He jolts up Why am I thinking about her hair? For fuck sake I need to get it together, I’m pretty sure she looks at me like a brother” He walks into his bathroom, slashing water on his face Although, I don’t think she ever called me a brother- did she?

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note: I know, I know, I went in a different direction on this, but I had to do some explaining for the end of part 1, and it all ties up in the end (the other part/parts) . I had to do a character build-up.

My taglist <3: @the-onlyy-angie @lreadsstuff @xadenswhore

117 notes · View notes

lunaatthezoo · 3 months ago

Note

once Elain and Azriel are together how do you think they’ll interact in front of the others? Are they into pda? Do they talk more? Are they funnier? Do they play sneaky pranks? Are they sappy? Does she get bolder? I can’t decide what I think on it and I’m sooo curious.

I love this question. This is what I think about most of my waking hours I'm not even JOKING. Here are some of my elriel endgame headcanons. Many inspired by other creators like @merakimoonglade @moonfalles @murkyrealms @jasmineandcedar @nikachansstuff @tswaney17 and so many other wonderful people on here.

~ Touching ALL the time. Not inappropriate PDA, but just touching to know that they are there together. Azriel keeps touching Elain because he can't believe he's allowed to, and can't believe how lucky he is. Little butt pats when he walks by, kisses on the forehead and shoulder, hands tangled in hair while they're sitting, little squeeze of the waist. A hand on the thigh. A kiss on the knuckles. Elain can't resist touching Azriel either because she can't believe this is her life now. They always need to reassure themselves that this is real.

~ I think they have the potential to be the funniest couple, in a quiet, subtle way. They have both demonstrated so much subtle humor, with Elain's gifts, with Azriel's interactions with other characters. And they both notice things most others don't. I think they would do hilarious things to get out of social obligations that they don't want to deal with or when the family is being too obnoxious, taking advantage of their powers. They're gonna exchange meaningful looks and Elain will pretend she's having a vision or Azriel will pretend his shadows are telling him something and they'll just bounce hahaha.

~ I think they will both still be quiet, because it's who they are as people. But if it comes to defending each other's choices or honor, they are going to speak. Up.

~ I think the inner circle will be shocked and moved at seeing Azriel happy for the first time. He'll be pulling Elain into his lap, laughing deeply, gazing at her lovingly and tucking hair behind her ear. It's going to be a new, content side to him that they've never seen before. They won't really know what to do with it and Cass will probably use humor like telling him it's unnatural or gross to see him so happy lol.

~ I think they will spend SO MUCH time in bed. Yes canoodling but also just being there together. Imagine. When they wake up in the morning, they will spend so long cuddling, kissing, snuggling, just being there together. Az will bring Elain tea in bed. When Elain gets up early to garden, she'll be so quiet to not disturb Az's sleep because she knows this is the first time he's gotten peaceful rest in all his centuries.

~ I think Elain is already bold but I think with Az in her corner she will grow further in her self confidence and become more involved in what the court is doing.

~ I think Azriel will be the most deranged, feral, protective partner out of all the brothers. Just full obsession. Breaking fingers just for looking at his girl wrong. Ripping out hearts if they touch her. And Elain will just be like oh thank you ☺️🌸

~ I think their love languages will be acts of service and physical touch. They will ALWAYS be doing things for each other.

~ Elain is going to FUSS over Azriel and he's going to be like 😳 about it. She's going to give Rhys a talking to if he overworks her husband. She's going to make him see Madja for every nick and scrape he gets. She's going to force him to nap if he looks tired (and with her laying there stroking his hair, he will.)

~ Az is going to be absolutely positively undeniably whipped. Whatever his girl wants, she gets. She says jump he says I'm already in the air. She mentions a flower ONE time and the next day he's procured the rare seeds. His new title will be Azriel, professional Elain simp of the night court

~ Azriel will take Elain's last name. Because he is bastard born, he doesn't have a family name. So he becomes Azriel Archeron and is SO PROUD of it. He uses is last name whenever he can.

~ I think they will adopt children. Especially given Azriel's history, I think it would be very healing to give children homes who might otherwise feel unwanted or alone. And since Sarah is adopted I just think it would be a beautiful thread. Elain is so caring and nurturing she would be completely on board and SPOIL those children.

~ they're going to have crazy fucking feral animal sex (also, switches.) I'm talking extreme dirty talk, bite marks, handprints, knife play, strap ons, they're kinky. If I know ONE thing about Azriel Archeron, it's that he's a panty ripper.

~ Elain is obsessed with Azriel's hands. Azriel is obsessed with Elain's neck. They are both obsessed with each other's hair.

~ Azriel's pet names for Elain include: beautiful, love, angel, sweetheart. Elain always calls Azriel by his name because she thinks it's so beautiful, but sometimes she calls him "my love"

~ they are both PATHETIC about how much they miss each other when Az is away on missions. To the point where other people are like OK WE GET IT GOOD LORD.

I could literally just keep going. And going. And going. I have SAGAS of HCs in my mind. But I hope these scratch some itches 🥹

Thank u for the question, this gave me life.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #elriel headcanons #elriel in the future #i love them so much #i cry #acotar #elain x azriel #azriel x elain

129 notes · View notes

bookfanatic06 · 5 months ago

Text

I haven’t written anything in over a decade, but this head canon just won’t go away. I’ve often wondered if the idea of “like calls to like” will be prevalent in Elriel’s book like in all the others. I really feel like Elain is hiding some deep shit that just can’t be ignored. This piece is really what I think could happen if Elain deep down shares Azriel’s penchant for self loathing and low self esteem. She gets so much crap from the fandom for being boring, I really see her surprising us with some darker personality traits.

Also, my favorite thing about this other than the Elriel fluff is Nesta. I wanted to see her and Elain making up after the events of ACOSF on page. I didn’t hate Nesta, just thought she treated my baby El poorly.

I’m not sure if I’ll write more to this, or if it’s going to stay a one shot. I’m also not sure if I’m ready to post to AO3. I’m a mom with 3 kids and a full time teaching gig. I’m not sure I have it in me.

So here is my first shot at writing Elriel.

Unworthy

Words: 5112

Angst/Romance

Pairings: Major: Elain Archeron/Azriel,

Minor: Feyre/Rhysand, Cassian/Nesta, Varian/Amren

———————

Remember who you are, Kingslayer.

She breathes to herself as she stares at her reflection in the mirror, plastering on the smile she knows her family would never second guess. Perfected so much over the years in her mother’s keep, as she was taught to never reveal her true emotions, to never let anyone see the heartbreak, the pain of unworthiness embedded in her very soul.

The dreams plaguing her at the moment, the ones that increase with the unyielding torrent of emotions swirling in her mind, are of her family having lost their use of her. That she has become a burden that they can cast aside so needlessly. So she sits at the mirror and contemplates how to be helpful. She’ll practice those new recipes that she received from that fae female at the market. She’ll make the gardens of Velaris so beautiful, people will ask for her. She’ll care for Nyx when his parents need a break.

But still, she feels the hole in her chest and wonders if it’ll be enough. Will she forever be cast aside or passed over in favor of her sisters because of their far more important accomplishments?

What exactly has she accomplished?

I killed the King of Hybern. She whispers so that only the shadows can hear. Not Nesta, as all of Prythian seemed to believe. She knows she pushed that knife into his throat, she still dreams about it; still feels the hilt of the blade in her hands. Even the shadows, the ones that she felt the comforting presence of for so long, have gone quiet since solstice.

She knows that her sisters are magnificent. That they both have earned their right to voice their opinions and be cherished in this world. Feyre, the High Lady that the Night Court deserves, and Nesta, the warrior she was always meant to be. But Elain, she carries the weight of unworthiness everywhere she goes. She wasn’t born to lead, she wasn’t born to be a warrior. She was born with a gentle heart, with a delicate resolve. But a will of iron.

You shoved that knife into his neck. You aren’t as gentle as you believe yourself to be.

She’s intimately familiar with self loathing by now. It curls around her like the vines that wrap around the fortress of her mind. But that voice, the voice that is hers, but much more confidently so, tries to remind her of what she has to offer. Her heart breaks as the self loathing pushes through whispers, “He doesn’t want someone who is brittle and weak. He wants someone courageous, someone with fire in their heart, someone like…”

Mor.

Despite the months that have passed since she found herself alone in the foyer in the early morning hours of Winter Solstice, she is still tortured by the thought that even her dearest friend, or whom she believed him to be, had been repulsed by her meritless existence. The pain of that night has yet to ebb, and she wonders if, at some point in her immortal life, it ever will.

She huffs a breath and stands from her vanity, moving to open the door and walk into the hallway, that gentle but false smile she’s perfected on her face.

As she reaches the kitchen, she is surprised to find Feyre, eyes clouded with sleep, hair poking out of the halfhearted braid she probably threw together before bed the previous night, holding a bottle to Nyx’s whimpering mouth.

“I think he’s starting to teethe. He’s been like this all night.” Feyre’s eyes flicker to Elain quickly before resting on her son’s mouth as it attaches to the bottle and then detaches with a small wail. Elain opens her arms, a silent request to take over – and make herself useful.

“I’ll take him, you go get some sleep.” She says gently, taking the babe into her arms. Feyre gives her a tired smile.

“Rhys and I are so lucky to have you here with us, El.”

Elain’s false smile returns to her features, and before she can give herself away, she shoos her sister out of the kitchen to take over as Nyx’s caregiver. She cradles her nephew to her, his chest to her own, rubbing circles on his back, between his little wings as she’s watched her sister and Rhys do time and time again. For a moment, the hole in her heart fills with the love she has for the babe in her arms. It doesn’t escape her, that if her life hadn’t so explicitly changed thanks to the betrayal that left her at the mercy of The Cauldron, she would probably have a babe of her very own by now. THAT thought doesn’t hurt as much as she thinks it should.

Because a child with Grayson would have been a monumental mistake.

The thought is gone as fast as it had come. That’s one part of her life that she is resolute in. Being Grayson’s wife, the mother to his brood, would NOT have been a step up from her current existence. She’s not sure how she knows that, perhaps from watching how Feyre and Nesta are treated by their mates. The unmatched adoration, the passion between the mates that she can sense from the couples as she plays the fifth wheel.

Why don’t I feel that way towards my own?

It’s not lost on her that she covets the bond her sisters have with their mates; what it must feel like knowing that your mate would give their very lives for your happiness. Her and her mate can barely be in the same room as each other, the bond an uncomfortable tether pulling at her rib.

She had once asked how it felt for her sisters, to see if the bond was true…

“It’s a blossoming warmth in my chest. The pull to Rhys is oftentimes so strong that I can't imagine my life before him.” Feyre had told her.

Her and her mate definitely could not relate.

But that warmth, she could have sworn she felt it before. When three fae males had walked into her home in the humanlands, and she had chanced a glance into the hazel eyes of the fae male with sapphire gems on his leathers. His gaze had caused her breath to catch, and every once in a while, when the war was over and she would be in his presence again, she would find herself looking into those eyes and she could almost feel the ghost of that warmth in her chest. Her breath would catch every time.

That hole was deep and chilled now.

The circles she’s been rubbing on her nephew’s back have quieted his little whimpers and he’s quiet on her chest as she moves to the window overlooking the gardens she’s cared for all these months. The gardens bloom in the vibrant colors of late spring. In her angst, she just wishes that the loveliness of the flowers she’s cultivated filled that hole in her chest that she so achingly wants to forget. An ache that, for the moment, her nephew in her arms has dulled significantly.

“Little one, you hold my heart in your hands.” She whispers as she kisses the thick black hair on his tiny head. At two months old, Nyx is the splitting image of his father, with Feyre’s temper to boot.

She sways back and forth, Nyx a solid presence, a weight holding her down to this earth. She almost misses the sound of the front door opening, but turns just in time to see the eyes of the male who still so captivated her thoughts.

No words are exchanged but he sends her a quick nod of acknowledgement as her own eyes quickly return to her nephew’s sleeping form. Her heart thundering in her empty chest. Before she can return her gaze to where the male stood, he is gone. Leaving her alone with that chasm in-between her ribs. The feeling of unworthiness crawling back into her thoughts.

He’s too good for me anyway.

She walks silently to the nursery, opting to place Nyx in his crib to attempt to get some breakfast prepared. She leaves the door slightly ajar, in case he awakens while she is cooking in the kitchen. Her fae hearing attuned to his little cries.

In the kitchen, she washes her hands and pulls out what is necessary for a quick meal. Bacon, eggs, some leftover scones from the pantry that she can reheat for her family to enjoy. She’s startled when Rhys and his companion walk briskly down the hall and through the foyer to the front door. Their voices quiet but unmistakable.

“All I need is 24 hours of rest and then I can head back down into the tunnels.” his deep tenor voice feels like a balm to her aching chest.

“Take the week, you look like you haven’t slept in months.” A pause and a sigh.

“I can always count on you for a confidence boost, Rhys.” She can feel the small smile gracing his lips as he speaks with his brother.

“I’m serious, Az. You’re no good to us if you’re dead on your feet. Take the week. Clean yourself up, eat a few hot meals, and sleep.” She wonders if this pause after Rhys speaks is meant to last as long as it does in her mind.

“Okay.” It’s breathless, and she can feel the exhaustion behind every syllable.

“Come to the kitchen. I’m sure Elain is whipping up something for breakfast. It’ll do you well to get something into your stomach.” She bites her lip at the invitation. He hasn’t had a meal in her presence in months, since before Nyx’s arrival, possibly not since Winter Solstice, but she’s unable to remember.

Elain straightens her spine, contemplating whether she should look in the pantry for some potatoes to add to her small spread. Her thoughts are interrupted by his forlorn response.

“I should really get back to the House of Wind, Nesta and Cassian are waiting for me.” An obvious lie and she feels like the remnants of her heart have turned liquid and puddled on the floor.

“Ask the House to make you something nice.” Rhys’ voice takes on a worried tone.

“I will.”

She holds back the tears threatening to spill as she hears his boots take him to the door and then outside. The heartbreak is still as tangible as it was months ago.

If Rhys notices the silver in her eyes when he strides into the kitchen, he doesn’t mention it. Just kisses her sweetly on the cheek and smiles,

“Good morning, Dear Sister.”

—————-

It’s a few nights later, while her family, sans Mor and Amren, sits at the dinner table eating the roast and potatoes she and the twins had been slow cooking over the course of the day, that Nesta looks at the empty chair across the table and says with worry gracing her normally icy gaze, “when are you going to start ordering Azriel to attend family dinners?”

Cassian places a hand on her knee as if to say NOT NOW.

She shrugs him off. Giving him that icy stare that’s become her calling card, “He’s a shell of himself. Even more closed off and broody than ever. He crawls around those tunnels and pokes his head out for a day or two and then heads right back in. The bags under his eyes are darker than yours” she points at Rhys. “And he doesn’t have a newborn to account for it.”

Elain sits up at that, heart sputtering as if she can feel him. As if she can feel the darkness pulling him under.

Maybe she can.

“I’m worried. Cassian is too; he’s just too stubborn to admit it. Az is working himself to death.” Elain puts a hand to her chest, as if that hand could hold her heart into place.

“Az is working very hard to get the answers we need about the Daglan and protect all of us, Nesta.” Feyre states gently, holding Nesta’s gaze as they narrow.

“But he shouldn’t HAVE to. We could rotate duties. We can go down there for a few days and let him rest.”

“This is what he wants, Nesta. He’s volunteered.” Rhys’ response is like an ash arrow to her gut.

“And why would he volunteer to do this assignment and be away from his family for so long if he was genuinely happy, Rhysand?” The room falls silent and the remnants of the meal she’s so thoughtfully made is ash on her tongue.

He’s not happy. That word, once vocalized, is hard for her to break from her thoughts. Azriel is unhappy.

It's her fault.

She grips the fork in her hand so tight the metal bends. It’s her fault because she read his intentions wrong on solstice. He is avoiding their family because she made things so awkward between them that he can’t bear to be in the same room as her. Nesta glances at her direction as if she can sense that feeling of worthlessness creeping into Elain’s body. Before Nesta can say anything, Cassian places his hand in hers.

“You’re right, Nes. We need to find out what’s going on with Az. I’ll ask Mor to visit him and get him to work through it. If anyone can get through to him, it’s Mor.”

And there was that feeling again. The feeling of a heart shattering, her lungs struggling to expand as her friends begin to plan for the intervention of the male who she so loved, even if he wanted nothing to do with her.

———————

Azriel was many things, within the last year or so, he’d resolved to adding foolish to his attributes. Foolish for thinking that he could be loved for the male he was, foolish for thinking he had any right to the happiness he saw in the faces of his brothers, and foolish to think that he could be hers.

It plagued him daily, the pull to a female that belonged to another. That he was not deemed worthy by the Cauldron of the female that held his heart, but that one of the sons of Autumn was.

She belongs to no one but herself. His shadows, his only companions, whisper.

It was a small mercy that she seemed as uninterested in her mate as her mate is with her. That she was once so willing to spend time with him despite being mated to someone else. That she was once happy to be his friend.

And now, they were nothing.

That thought buried deep inside of him, burrowed into his bones and tore through his limbs.

So he cut himself out of her world. He threw himself into his work. He trudged through the tunnels under the Night Court and pretended that he was keeping his family safe from the Daglan, when in reality, he was avoiding them.

It was another grueling pass through the tunnels. His eyes slowly adjusting from the change in light when he stepped out of the dark and into the quiet grasses surrounding the opening to the tunnels that have become his tomb. He had promised to wait a week to return to his work, but the ache in his chest had him packed and ready to continue his mission only 3 days after his last excursion. After a week of fighting through the tunnels, sliding Truthteller through the folds of the various beasts that inhabited the chasms below, his exhaustion was threatening to take his knees out from under him.

So he gathered what little strength he had left, and flew himself to the House of Wind.

And it was a mistake.

Nesta stood in the middle of the training pit, arms crossed. The rest of the priestesses were long gone by the early-afternoon. Precisely why he had chosen this time to fly back to the house, a feeble attempt to hide from everyone. He landed with a little less grace than intended, and as he took a glance at Nesta, he could have sworn that the silver flames that had been given back to The Cauldron to save her sister were still present in her eyes as she stared back at him disapprovingly.

“So you’re volunteering for these tunnel missions, huh?”

Azriel sighed. He learned long ago that arguing with Nesta was futile, that she would never let him go without a word.

“My schedule is open.” He shrugged absently.

“The hels it is, Az!” She bellowed, looking him up and down for a sign of…what exactly?

“Are you hurt?” She asked, this time with a gentleness not many would associate with the accomplished warrior, Lady Death.

“I’m fine.”

She continued to observe him, not completely believing he was all well and good. She noted his tired eyes, his rigid shoulders.

“What’s going on, Az? You’re like a ghost, never staying long enough to rest. Barely managing to function. This is so unlike you—-“ it pained him to interrupt, but the unworthiness creeped into his chest at her care for him.

“—this is me, Nes. It’s been me for 540 years. You’ve only glimpsed a small part of my life. I’ve always been like this.”

“That’s not true and you know it.” She says through her teeth, the frustration evident in her voice, in her posture. Azriel bows his head in a movement meant to placate the female before him. She sighs, and with a voice far calmer than she’s treated him with thus far speaks.

“She’s a ghost, too.”

He knows who she’s talking about immediately. And he dares not let her know that he’s affected by those words. He swallows the lump in his throat and moves to go around her. She stops him with her palm to his chest, right where his heart should be.

“I don’t know what’s happened between you two, but I know that the last time I’ve seen her smile, her real smile, was when you were the one to put it on her face.” The hole in his chest is infinitely bigger as Nesta moves her hand and places it gently on his arm.

“Be present, Az. We love you. She—loves you.”

Az is sure that Nesta means he is loved in a friendly way, but the idea of being loved by Elain Archeron makes his heart beat a little faster in his chest. He nods his head, words failing him.

“Everyone is coming here for dinner tonight.” Nesta states firmly. “Get cleaned up and meet us in the dining room at 5.” She shuffles past him to reach the door to the house and smiles mischievously at him behind her.

There’s no hiding from them now. Nesta will hunt him down until he appears. So he plans to arrive for dinner even as his brain tells him to run.

——————

Elain stares at her sister as she repeats the itinerary for the day, eyes wide as she questions Feyre over the plan to “meet Nesta and Cassian at the House for dinner.”

Elain is confused. Never has Nesta invited them to the House for dinner. Tea, on occasion. Training, frequently. Never dinner.

“What’s the occasion?” She asks, trying not to let her nerves show.

“She just misses us.” Feyre smiles, and although Elain is suspicious, she gives her little sister a genuine smile.

“Sounds delightful.”

And if her nerves intensify as her sister’s mate puts her down gently on the balcony of the House of Wind a few hours later, she doesn’t let it show, because she can absolutely scent the one person she is anxious to see the most.

Azriel is here.

And it takes all of her mother’s etiquette training to hold her head up high and enter the dining room to see his gorgeous, but somber face. A face she’s conflicted to commit to memory. He looks so tired, she muses. And despite the ache in her chest, the unworthiness that her mind flashes into her skull, seeing him is like breathing air after drowning, and she can’t look away.

Dinner commences and for the first time in months, the smile on her face is real. Everyone she loves is at the table, Mor and Feyre chatting animatedly with each other. Amren, Rhys, and Varian are lost in their own conversation about the Summer Court. Elain chances a look at the glorious Shadowsinger across from her. He’s impressive as usual, but she notes that his shadows are moving lithe around him, as if they are also exhausted from his travels. His eyes meet hers, and that warmth in her chest that only he can provide blossoms under his gaze. And she smiles, for real, and she thinks she sees the corner of his own mouth move up slightly.

It’s only when the meal is done and the House takes the dishes away that Rhys and Feyre take Nyx home to bed. Amren and Varian go back to Amren’s apartment, and Azriel excuses himself to finally get some rest. The rest of the family moves to the sitting room to continue to chat and Elain sits with them, appearing to listen to their conversation, but barely hearing what is being said. Her thoughts are helplessly on the male asleep somewhere in this house.

“Elain, would you like to stay here tonight?” Nesta asks with a beautiful smile on her face that captures Elain’s attention. She points a finger at her mate and says, “It’s easier for this old man to fly in the daytime. His eyesight is going poorly, and Mor is too drunk to take herself home, let alone you.” Nesta nods her head towards the beautiful blonde already falling asleep on the sofa across from her. Cassian scoffs.

“539 is NOT old.” He crows indignantly. The sisters erupt into laughter but Elain can’t help but think that her sister is only asking for her to stay because it’ll make things easier, and not because she wants her there. As the others begin to move towards their bedrooms, Nesta stops Elain with a gentle hand on her arm.

“I know I haven’t been the kind of sister you deserve, Elain. I want to make that up to you. I want to have breakfast with you tomorrow. I want to sit and talk to you about your life. I want to show you that I’m trying, that I’m here for you.” Elain’s chest expands with hope and a love she can only have for Nesta.

“I would like that very much.” She smiles. And Nesta offers to show her her bedroom for the night. The two walk arm in arm as they move through the house until they come upon the door of a room at the far end of the hallway. The room she’s given is warm and inviting, with a giant bed covered in lilac sheets. There’s a fireplace in the corner that is not in use due to the late spring warmth, but the double doors opening to the balcony overlooking Velaris is the crowning feature. She bids Nesta goodnight, with a promise to meet in the dining room for breakfast, and immediately heads for the balcony after Nesta shuts the bedroom door behind her.

What Elain doesn’t expect, is to end up sharing a balcony with the Shadowsinger himself.

And it appears he’s just as surprised as she is.

“H—hi” she breathes. Taking in his tall form in the shadows of the night. He’s seated on the edge of the balcony’s railing, one leg hanging over the edge while the knee of his other leg is bent for balance on the railing. His glorious wings are tight against his back, the bottoms on either side of the balcony. His hazel eyes, the ones that torment her in her dreams, are wide.

“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know you— or anyone, would be here—on the balcony, I mean.” She stammers as she looks down at her feet in embarrassment. He’s still quiet in front of her, and she curses the fact that the Cauldron didn’t boil her alive when it had the chance.

“I—I’ll just go…” she says and begins to move. She’s vaguely aware of him sitting up straighter than before.

“No, please— don’t.” His deep voice is a whisper that her fae ears only hear because she’s desperate to hear his voice again. She wouldn’t miss his first words to her in months for anything in this world. She swallows, unsure of how to proceed. Any courage she might have deep within her, sputtering.

“I don’t want you to leave.” He says louder, with conviction, and that hole in her chest feels the fullest it’s been in months.

“I don’t want to leave, either.” She says confidently. Her courage soars with the vibrancy of his words.

“I miss you.” He adds gently, finally meeting her gaze, and she’s at a loss. This male who has captivated her body and spirit for years now. Whom she thought was angry with her. Who walked away from her on solstice and didn’t look back.

“Then why?” She whispers back, a silver tear escaping and trailing down her pale cheek. The question is open ended, but he knows what she means.

“Because I am unworthy of you.” He admits. The self loathing in his voice matches her own every time she thinks about him.

“Of course you are. If anything, I am unworthy of you.”

“Never.” He replies instantly, but she waves him off. Moving to his side, eyes peering at his form under the stars, tears falling down both cheeks now.

“You are kind, Azriel. You are gentle, and you are courageous. You’ve fought on the battlefield, and you protect the people of this court, of this family. I bake bread, watch Nyx, and plant seeds in the garden. You deserve so much more than I can offer you.”

The air between them crackles with the intensity of his gaze. He moves, and before she can loose a breath, his scarred hands are wiping the tears from her skin.

“How can you not see how incredible you are, Elain?” He speaks softly, rubbing his fingers back and forth over her cheeks. “You put the needs of others in front of your own. You bake bread, watch Nyx, and build gardens to bring comfort and beauty to those around you. In a world of war and bloodshed, you are reminder that there are things out there so beautiful it’s worth fighting for.” She gasps at the depth of his stare. “You are everything I could ever hope for, but I can’t have you.” The words he’s spoken break something within her. Her hands land on his own on her cheeks, and she uses them to push his away, to push him away. Confusion gracing her features.

“And why can’t you have me? Why have you shut me out all of these months?”

He thinks carefully at how to respond. It’s in his best interest to lie, the rage in her beautiful brown eyes cuts him further than any blade and he pauses for a moment.

Rhys will mist him for revealing the truth. He’s disobeying his order right now, just being alone with the female that possesses his heart and soul. But he finds that lying to her is impossible. That he would rather be misted than lie to the female before him.

“Because I have been ordered to stay away from you.” He says with deep remorse.

The earth ceases to rotate for Elain. Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out. She stares in horror and Azriel wonders if he’s made a grave mistake.

“Rhys?” She whispers. He nods.

“But—why?” The devastation in her voice is palpable, and he wants nothing more than to fly to the river house, despite his exhaustion, and hit his brother in his pretty face.

“You have a mate, Elain.” She scoffs. Ready to deny such a thing. He weighs his words carefully before he continues. “Our—involvement could have severe consequences for the Night Court.”

“What consequences?” She asks, in an eerily calm voice that he doesn’t recognize. He takes a deep breath and prepares himself for her ire.

“The Autumn Court has an archaic tradition that allows for a mate to call for a blood duel against any male that threatens his mating bond. Lucien or Beron have the right to challenge me to that blood duel if you and I—“

Elain looks up into his eyes, horrified at the realization that this is what is keeping them apart.

“—but I would fight for you. Rhys knows it. And I would win, because there would be no chance in this lifetime that I would give up a life with you if I had the choice. But if I were to kill Lucien in a blood duel—“ he pauses. “Beron can enact revenge by calling for war against the Night Court.”

She’s quiet for a long time. Her chest, that was finally full only recently, is hollowed out and bleeding down to her toes. Rhys has deemed them unworthy of each other. Have deemed them unworthy of his protection. Unworthy of the Night Court’s protection. She steps forward, so that her breath mixes with his. He’s stunned for a moment, peering down into her face, determination and understanding amongst the many emotions crossing her features.

“I would rather have you in secret, than not at all.” She says so quietly that only the two of them can hear and places her hand on his chest where his heart beats against it. He’s dumbfounded for a moment.

She’s choosing him?

“Are you sure?” He whispers just as quietly, so that only her and the Mother can hear him.

“Yes.”

The word is barely out of her mouth when his lips meet hers in a kiss that stops the world around them. It’s soft and gentle, just like they are, but Elain swears that this feeling in her chest, at finally tasting the male of her dreams, is the same one her sisters have so lovingly described about their mates.

How can this not be it? They both muse to themselves.

His lips move slowly against her own, savoring her taste, committing it to memory. She has chosen him. She is willing to risk war and their family’s loyalty for him. He will never understand why, but he’s too far gone to talk her out of it.

They stay on the balcony until the early morning hours, touching, tasting, and chasing away the demon of unworthiness inside of each other. Because even if their family or the Night Court didn’t need them, they found out that night that they needed each other.

Fin (or is it?)

#elriel #elain kingslayer #elain archeron #elain x azriel #pro elriel #pro elain #like calls to like #acotar #azriel

89 notes · View notes

infiniteetcetera · 11 months ago

Text

My next weekly controversial ACOTAR post: A defense of Azriel, because if I see one more post saying he has no personality or is an incel (but also an f-boy apparently) then it’s game over

Azriel is such an interesting and complex character I think it’s an incredible shame so many readers misinterpret him just because his character is shown is small bursts rather than loud blasts. SO i’m not going to try and defend him because this man has done nothing wrong, instead I’ll provide y’all with a list of moments that prove both that Azriel DOES have a personality and that’s it’s a loveable one:

•He tells Feyre that Cassian is annoying right up front (a small thing but I appreciate it)

• He spent the night at Rita’s with Feyre, playing silly games betting on Rhys’ dating life (funny for so many reasons) and making her feel comfortable in an overwhelming situation

•Even though he’s quiet and private, he confides to Feyre he doesn’t know where he belongs after 500 years and feels he doesn’t fit in to reassure her that the feelings she’s having are normal

•He was reassuring and polite to Elain and Nesta when they first meet

•Acknowledged that it was a risk and a sacrifice for Nesta and Elain to lend them their house and was thankful rather than antagonistic or rude (*cough cough Cassian*) and met them both with a protective regard to Feyre but an open mind about their circumstances

•Is so upset by the mysogny and abuse in Illyria he straight up refuses to go there because he will not play nice and polite with these jerks like Rhys and Cas do

•In Feyre’s own words, she trusts him well enough that if Rhys was ever doing something to harm her/locking her up like Tamlin did she believes he would not only save her but deal with Rhys himself if it came to it

•Follow up on above, he spies on Amren against Rhys’ orders. When Feyre asks about it Amren says Azriel is the most disobedient of the IC (some of them could never) because he’s willing to do what is right over what Rhys thinks is right (hot)

•Gave Feyre such a stunning smile after she accepts the mating bond that Rhys is filled with jealousy and ready to attack (that is to say, this man is very pretty and deserves credit for it)

•Amren putting her head on his shoulder after battle because she’s tired and everyone (including him) is shocked but he’s polite about it and also it just radiates male worth trusting vibes

•Was literally bleeding out screaming crying throwing up poisoned and still sassed the king of Hybern for Mor and Feyre

•When Cassian is trying to make Lucien uncomfortable Azriel KICKS HIM (all the Azriel is so mean/hates Lucien people come down to reality please)

•When Cassian implies something rude about Nesta and Mor wants to join in Azriel shoots her a look to stop (yes the Az that is supposedly obsessed with Mor and her opinion of him) and Feyre describes said look as as if they had talked about it many times before so YES EVEN PRE-ACOWAR THIS MAN WAS SUPPORTING NESTA

•Feyre and Mor both agree he’s the only one with manners

•He laughed at Nesta’s sassy comment to Mor because man respects good comedy

•When Cassian makes a sexist joke and implies Az is thinking the same thing not only does Azriel not engage with his tomfoolery but Mor cuts in to defend him as the only batboy who never says such things

•Just the ENTIRE sequence of him training Feyre to fly. He’s so sweet and witty and charming

•So gentle and reassuring to Elain, offering to show her the garden and carrying her all the way up to the house

•Him taking care of Feyres injuries from the flying lessons. Again just always being so gentle and sweet. He trusts her enough not to go easy on her but isn’t cruel and overworking either

•The entire Nephelle story and just the fact Rhys gave the story to Azriel as a “gift” this boy appreciates sweet stories about underdog lesbians with wings and I love it

•Just him paying such close careful attention to Elain and recognizing she is a seer, him talking her through her visions and helping reassure her she’s not crazy (he knows what that feels like)

•Even though he hates Illyrians, he helps Cassian break the news to the families of those who lost warriors in the war

•Just “I don’t see you spouting poetry brother” “I don’t need to resort to it😩🔥”

•BE CAREFUL HOW YOU SPEAK ABOUT MY HIGH LADY

•Eris uttered the word “slut” about a woman and this man ATTACKED. Like I am an Eris stan and I know some people don’t like this scene but it’s the true feminist energy I need

•Ignoring Rhys’ order to stand down but stopping the second Feyre says something bc this man respects women’s authority (t’s literally an intentional way of demonstrating Feyres power right after she was belittled by Tamlin. people act like he was rabid in this scene but it seems so clear to me he was intentionally doing this to support his high lady)

•Was the first to realize something was wrong with Elain (also has a sweet exchange of looks with Nesta over it, like they are homegirl’s designated protectors)

•Just EVERYTHING about him volunteering to get Elain back. Whether you ship Elriel or not this was such a sweet moment. He doesn’t hesitate at all even when Nesta says it’s a death wish and everyone’s sentiment starts to change.

•Everything about him saving Elain and the human girl. Just 10/10 all around, hot, stunning, sweet, incredible, precious angel of death boy

•Az is so badly wounded after the rescue mission that Rhys and the others who see him are shocked but he refused to set Elain down (even though she’s not hurt) until Rhys takes her and the first thing he asks is for Helion to come unchain her (not anything for himself). Again just SOOO sweet and caring whether you ship Elriel or not

•Another Elriel moment but well they happen, Az giving her truth teller is just🤧 he’s never lent out this blade to his brothers or anyone else, we know it has some special brand of magic and he likely does too and he offers it to Elain to give her a sense of safety (again even if you don’t ship them it’s just so considerate)

•”Chain me to a tree Rhys, I’ll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back” LIKE TELL ME THAT ISNT HOT

•A super small moment but after the war when the boys are watching the sisters/Mor laughing and Rhys starts crying Az tells him “it’s real” and I just think the intuitive understanding and care behind that is so sweet (especially when Az is so misunderstood by his brothers)

•This sounds more like a hate comment to Rhys/Cassian than pro Az but when Rhys admits he and Cassian used to beat Azriel for hours to get him to speak to them and he never would, I think that’s such crazy determination and resolve and also he’s wayyyyy nicer than me for still putting up with them after that

•HIM REFUSING TO SPY ON LUCIEN. I just love that degree of respect it’s made even better by the fact Rhys asks about Lucien a second time bc he literally assumes Az was joking and Azriel’s just like “nope not doing it” (again people who say he hates Lucien, please)

•Him finding drunk Cassian and Feyre and trying to fix their terrible decorations the just chugging some wine himself😭 he’s so funny AND sweet

•”Sit, I’ll take care of it.” I NEED THIS ENERGY FROM EVERY MAN EVER PLEASE

•Also him telling everyone to wait for Elain because she’s literally the one who cooked and them eating before her would be rude and I just IWJDKWKDN again so hot and polite and it’s not even a romance/flirting thing bc when Elain comes back and she/Cas give him the opportunity to take credit he doesn’t at all?? He just did it because it’s right and proper

•Him insulting Amren to defend Elain (and then blushing when everyone laughs at his joke) he’s precious (and funny af)

•Him dying at Elains gift JMEKXNEKD the IC stresses him fr and he’s waiting for someone to free him

•Him being nice about Mor’s awful gifts even though she’s known him for 500 years and still gets him awful gifts and also exchanges lingerie with Cassian to his (and Nesta’s) face even though she thinks Az is in love with her

•Half compliment to Az half complaint about Cassian, but when there’s mention of all the universe research Rhys does in ACOSF Cassians like “Rhys told him and he instantly forgot” but As is super interested and listens intently and wants to learn more and I just love a boy with hobbies and interests😩

•Small thing but when he first sees Nes in the house of wind in ACOSF he smiles and is so polite and Nesta tells us for like a whole paragraph how beautiful he is and I trust that woman above all

•Also in reference to the above, Nesta chats with Az for like 10 seconds and instantly wants to train with him over Cas because she knows he’d be better to her

•Azriel blushing when Nesta calls him pretty✨ (such a sweet lover boy I swear)

•He laughs at Nesta’s insults to Cassian but holds back from laughing at Cassians✨

•The only one who literally JUST ASKS why Nesta won’t train and also sparks the idea in Cassians obtuse head that it might be because she doesn’t want to train in Illyria (VALID)

•I know people have mixed takes about how the scene is written but him asking Nesta if she was pushed down the stairs feels genuine to me, like he asks the question very pointedly serious and focuses just on Nesta, his vague amusement after is only in regard to Cassians dumb reaction but the fact he asked her and the way in which he does it (ignoring Cassians input and still waiting for Nesta’s answer) shows genuine consideration to her (still a stranger to him for all intents and purposes) over his brother’s feelings

•Him paying such careful attention to Nesta and being the only one who never starts fights with her to such a strong degree that even Nesta feels too seen by him

•Such a basic thing (but it’s not when you look at the quality of other ACOTAR men unfortunately) but when Cassian asks him if he wants kids he says it’s not his decision (like this is why I hate the anti-elriel “elain can’t bare his children” argument, I assure you Az does not gaf)

•”Azriel had never said a bad word about Nesta” and i’m not supposed to stan???

•Also the fact he doesn’t like hand to hand combat bc he doesn’t like getting covered in people’s sweat JEKKDKW I know it’s just a gag Cas jokes about but there’s something so funny and refined about that

•Him being so competitive is hot honestly😩 especially how Cassian describes it as not being in an arrogant or scary way but in a very strategic sort of manner, how he’s often the only one who can compete with Rhys (who was trained for this stuff since birth) like YES

•Az getting flustered and awkwardly walking away when he sees how Nesta is staring at him and Cas KEKKDKE i so highly appreciate his balance between confident and shy boy

•Him and Nesta smiling about Cassians stupidity, being “allies against his insanity,” again, Az just being a friend to her is so sweet (and important given it’s like the one thing Nesta needed in this book)

•Not only does he vote with Cas against keeping things from Nes but when Amren starts saying lewd things about her it’s Azriel (not Cassian bc apparently he could never) who tells her to STFU about Nesta

•Amren tells the boys NOT to touch the sword and Az is legit the only one who tries to listen (the ONLY bat boy with brain cells half the time)

•Just the fact that once he starts training the Priestesses with Cas Nesta notes a bunch of them seem to have crushes on him. Like these girls who have been so traumatized by men they can barely stand to be in public feel that comfortable with him so quickly, he just radiates safe energy

•Also a small moment but him awkwardly smiling the first time he sees Gwyn at training and just trying to act casual to not make her feel weird is so sweet.

•Him dancing with Nesta “as easily as breathing” (again, their friendship means everything to me)

•When Nesta asks him why he came to solstice if seeing Elain/Lucien hurts him and he says “Because Rhys wants me here and it’d hurt him if I didn’t come” like HEJEKNDO he’s so selfless for the people he cares about FR (especially given how Rhys talks to him that same night)

•EVERYTHING about his gift to Nesta. The fact he didn’t have to give her one in the first place (it was no one’s expectation, including hers. on the surface he didn’t even get Elain a gift so it wasn’t just a polite thing). The way the gift is literally SO SWEET AND GENUINELY THOUGHTFUL like he took care not just to get her something but to get her something that would bring her joy and be useful (and is definitely based on his observations about her avoiding the fireplace)

•ALSO when she hugs him the entire room goes silent because they’re just that shocked but he just laughs and hugs her gently and then is blushing after like ANDKEKD

•The entire relationship he forms with Gwyn and how he notes shes competitive and uses that to help inspire her in training and even when he’s teasing her he’s so potently rooting for her too

•Him being nervous about holding baby Nyx with his scarred hands like this precious angel IEKKDKW

Most Offending Thing, His Bonus Chapter (the good and the bad)

•Him scheming about a snowball fight for a whole year is hilarious

•Also him including in his plotting that Cassian would be up all night with Nesta (little did he know his boy only lasts like one round, that and Cassian being so horrified at the thought of Az finding out about him being quick off the mark with Nesta, I just know Az is the stamina king)

•Even his shadows just want him to sleep but your boy is too depressed

•I’m sorry but everything about his and Elains almost kiss is HOT people who think it was overly sexualized or something have missed all the first thoughts we get from like every SJM boy about their LI (ROWAN IN QOS FR) and also the fact that this tension has obviously been brewing for a while??? he’s been avoiding her because it’s that palpable and ELAIN KNOWS IT. it’s a mutual thing it doesnt mean there isn’t romance beneath it or that he’s a creep for wanting her after a year of putting off his feelings

Brief interlude, his offending lines:

•”My two brothers are with two of those sisters but the third was given to another” - the language here might make you uncomfortable but that’s because MATING BONDS ARE UNCOMFORTABLE. we’re told by Rhys himself that they’re often used to “give” a female to a male. the distinction he makes here that Feyre/Nes are “with” Rhys/Cas but Elain was “given” to Lucien is because Elucien is the only mating bond example we’ve followed in this series where the foundation is not love and choice. Azriel does not feel entitled/think he deserves Elain. In this same chapter he feels unworthy to even touch her, stands outside in the freezing cold until he’s “again nothing at all.” Mor tells us all the way back in ACOMAF that he feels completely undeserving of love. Azriel does not think he deserves Elain just because Rhys said so (Az LITERALLY glares at him for saying it). Azriel brought up a valid point (that other characters have too) that the Archeron sisters (who have comparable power) would makes sense all mated to the bat boys (again, comparable power) since we know that’s a crux of mating bonds. Not to mention, Azriel and Elain genuinely just like each other and always have, more so than any of the mated couples even. From a logical standpoint, they would make sense as mates. Even this ships haters say they would be “too predictable/obvious” like SO YOU AGREE THEY MAKE EASY LOGICAL SENSE that’s what Az is implying.

•”Lucien will never be good enough for her” I’ve seen a lot of people use this line to say Az hates/drags Lucien but that’s not how I interpret it at all. First off, all of Az’s other actions (i’ve listed some above) show he’s actually very considerate of/trusting in regards to Lucien. This line to me reads less as “lucien is a bad/undeserving person” and more “Lucien is not what Elain wants” (right after he says she has no interest in him). From Azriel’s POV (and ours my fellow readers) Lucien has done nothing to win over Elain. Yes he’s been polite and I applaud him for that over others actions with their mates (cough cough Cassian) but he’s also never sought her out for a real conversation about the bond, never had any sort of “clicking” moment with her, and still after years just makes her uncomfortable (as far as we and Az know). I think it makes perfect sense to infer from this Lucien is not “good enough” in regards to what Elain is seeking (I think the easiest way I can put this is the idea of “somebody can be perfect but still not perfect for you”). Is Azriel’s opinion a little biased? Yes FS, but also this girl was about to let him do filthy things to her down the hall from Lucien, I say it’s pretty safe for him to infer that she doesn’t want Lucien (and therefor never will).

•”He hadn’t gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to” - I won’t repeat what I said above regarding the sexual undertones in the chapter, but also the reason why Az hadn’t thought beyond this is in the chapter and it’s not because he’s some fuck boy. AZRIEL KNOWS HE CANT HAVE A FUTURE WITH ELAIN AND DOESNT THINK HE DESERVES IT. It’s written all over their interactions together. He wanted to kiss her to have a piece of her to hold onto, not because he thinks he can have a future with her because he knows as things stand he can’t. He doesn’t want to plan to push her/seduce her (like rhys implies) or anything because he doesn’t feel worthy of her and knows circumstances won’t allow them to be together safely. What’s driving him crazy and keeping him up at night with fantasies is that they do both want each other, but imagining a life where they could have more than that and be happy together is impossible for Az because he’s someone who has never prioritized his happiness and does not expect it.

•”I’ll defeat him with little effort.” - Again reading comprehension I beg, this is not a diss against Lucien. If Lucien was the type of guy to invoke a blood duel because Elain chose Azriel (Lucien wouldn’t, Azriel doesn’t even think he would it’s Rhys who suggests it) then YEAH AZ CAN KICK HIS ASS WITH LITTLE EFFORT BC THAT WOULD BE A CRAPPY THING TO DO.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming

•I LOVE everything about his scene with Gwyn on the roof. His vague awkwardness, his teasing of her and trying to be polite, him actually trying to help her train (after we learn Cas has been useless, go figure), and just being so sweet and kind to her in general even though he’s probably still incredibly sad/upset🤧

•This precious boy gets a small urge to cross his arms and is thrown into a PTSD flashback of his father with his mom??? He constantly consciously makes effort not to appear scary/threatening to women because he’s that scarred from his fathers behavior😭

•Listen, I won’t try to entirely defend the necklace thing because I do think it’s weird no matter who you ship Azriel with BUT i will say my best take on it is that it’s a version of self harm/sabotage. Like the only thing that makes sense to me here is he’s subconsciously creating barriers in his relationships with both Elain/Gwyn by doing this which is honestly way less f-boy (a weird take i’ve seen from people, especially given at this point he has no plans to pursue either Elain or Gwyn) and just way more very sad.

FINALLY, sprinkles from HOFAS:

•He’s so FINE in this book

•His silly little things like kicking rocks while trailing Nesta and Bryce to make a point are SO funny

•Him and Nesta working so well together, may not be a point in his favor but it makes me happy

•Azriel loving and defending his mom✨

•Azriel barely snapping at Nesta and then immediately apologizing and saying he loves her. THAT is more emotional intelligence than any other male in ACOTAR has shown

•Him liking club music but also being embarrassed about it? Adorable

•Everything about his interactions with Bryce in this book strike me so hard because you can tell he’s trying to keep his guard up but still has a lot of sympathy for her. I think that gets to the core of who Az is: smart and distant and guarded but also genuinely kind above all

•Also so many small funny little jokes and lines

I COULD PROBABLY SAY MORE AND GO ON FOREVER BUT HOPEFULLY PEOPLE GET THE POINT :)

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #pro azriel #my sweet angel boy forever #elriel #nezriel #anti cassian #anti rhysand #anti amren #anti IC minus azriel honestly #pro azriel acotar

250 notes · View notes

bright-side20 · 6 months ago

Text

Elain is pleasant to look at, her mother had once mused ..., but she has no ambition. She does not dream beyond her garden and pretty clothes. She will be an asset on the marriage market for us oneday, if that beauty holds, but it will be our own maneuverings, Nesta, not hers, that win us an advantageous match.

“Why?” Elain demanded. “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can’t have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

Rhys asked, “Have you ever seen Elain act like that before?” “No.” I chewed on my bottom lip. Rhys's gaze tracked the movement. “I mean, she's been brave when she had to be, but she's never been confrontational.” "Maybe she was never given the chance to be that way."

“But I wonder if everyone has spent so long assuming Elain is sweet and innocent that she felt she had to be that way or else she'd disappoint you all.” He sighed toward the ceiling. “With time and safety, perhaps we'll see a different side of her emerge.” “Don't forget that gardening often results in something pretty, but it involves getting one's hands dirty along the way."

Elain’s feet slipped against the floor, but Nesta gripped her upright, running her hands over Elain’s face, her shoulders, her hair— “Elain, Elain, Elain,” she sobbed....Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides.His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate.”

Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?” “She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.

“You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?” “It means nothing,” Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—” “You belong to him.” “I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.” Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. “It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.”

"It's so interesting how he played such an important role in her taking control of her power. He gave her his legendary blade and was confident that it would serve her well. He trusted her ability to make the right decision and always knew that she was more than the fragile flower everyone assumed.

“He brought you a present.”Those doe-brown eyes turned toward me. Sharper than I’d ever seen them.“And that entitles him to my time, my affections?”

Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral,something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past,leading Nesta into the room.

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat betweenFeyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. Offer and permission.

Elain is Blodeuwedd

#pro elriel #elriel #pro elain #elain archeron

87 notes · View notes

mirrorballpages · 4 months ago

Text

I'll spend forever wondering if you knew

Azriel had heard about the Archeron sisters long before meeting them.

He wasn’t eager to make their acquaintance.

She’d been thrust into the role of provider far too young, her family’s fall from grace forcing her into responsibilities no child should bear. At barely more than a girl, she had hunted in the freezing woods, hunger gnawing at her ribs, dangers lurking behind every tree.

And she had done it—without faltering, without complaint. Not because she wanted to, but because someone had to.

Azriel respected her for it. Admired her, even. He had seen the strength it took to survive when the world abandoned you. It was a strength that burned quietly, like an ember beneath ash. Azriel had spent centuries studying people, unraveling their masks and defenses. But Feyre’s love for her sisters—raw, complicated, unyielding—was not something that needed to be unraveled.

And so, as he stood in the shadows, waiting outside with Rhysand and Cassian while Feyre ventured inside, he wasn’t sure what to expect.

His shadows, as always, had gone ahead, slipping through cracks and crevices to survey the home. The estate was striking in its quiet elegance, with a roof the color of emeralds and pale marble walls that gleamed faintly even under the gray winter sky. Holly and evergreen adorned the windows, their deep green leaves and scarlet berries a festive contrast to the cold stone.

And yet, it was not the house that drew their attention—it was the figure inside.

Azriel felt the shift immediately, the way his shadows fluttered and murmured, their whispers threading through his mind like the opening notes of a song. "A thing of secret, lovely beauty."

They whispered of her voice, soft and lilting, a melody that stirred even the most reluctant hearts.

They described her grace, the way she moved with quiet confidence, as if she belonged not to the world but to some dream just beyond it. Her smile, they said, was a rare and delicate thing—gentle but powerful enough to lower even the most unyielding guard.

Elain, the shadows named her, their voices hushed as if they, too, were captivated.

They spoke of how she persuaded Nesta, her calm yet insistent voice smoothing the room’s tension like a balm. Her words carried weight despite their softness, her unyielding gentleness swaying even the wary servants. There was no sharpness in her, no demand—only quiet determination that left no room for argument.

Azriel’s jaw tightened as the shadows painted their picture of her.

Beautiful. Delicate. Captivating.

She reminded him of Morrigan.

That same light, that same grace. Morrigan had always possessed a way of bending the world to her will, softening its harshest edges with her warmth and wit. Azriel’s shadows fluttered at the thought, their whispers carrying a faint echo of longing.

But Morrigan had never been quiet.

This one—Elain—seemed to wield her power differently. Where Morrigan blazed, Elain glowed. Her light was not fierce or commanding but soft and inviting, a warmth that seeped into the cracks and filled them without force. It was subtle, steady, an unassuming strength that drew others in before they even realized it.

And though Azriel’s heart should not have stirred at such whispers, he found himself listening more intently than he cared to admit.

---------------------------------

Azriel fell in love with Morrigan the moment he saw her at seventeen.

Her golden hair had caught the light, framing her face like a halo, and her laugh—Cauldron, that laugh—had rung through the air like music. She was everything he wasn’t: optimistic, confident, unflinching. The sun seemed to radiate from her, lighting everything she touched.

He could never forget the way her lips curled—not just in a smile, but in the way she spoke. Provocative, bold, fearless. She never seemed afraid of being wrong, of being judged. Azriel had been drawn to that light, to the life she carried in her every step.

It wasn’t just her beauty—though it was undeniable, breathtaking. It was the way she made him feel, as if everything dark and shadowed within him could melt away under her gaze. At seventeen, he believed with all his heart that she could save him.

He had carried that love with him for centuries. At first, it had been a boy’s love, fragile and burning, a love that believed he could one day prove himself worthy. That if he was strong enough, if he was good enough, Morrigan would love him in return.

But then came the day he found her.

The note nailed to her womb. Her blood staining the ground in the Autumn Court. The broken, hunted look in her eyes.

Azriel had tried to explain himself to her. Tried to tell her what was in his heart, to tell her how much she mattered, how much he cared for her. But before the words could escape, she had turned and left.

The pain of that moment had settled deep in Azriel’s chest, a wound that never fully healed.

Over time, his love for Mor had changed. It was no longer the love of a boy believing in a future, but a quieter, more guarded thing. A love that morphed into protection, into reverence. It was easier to love someone who would never love him back, someone who could never destroy his heart completely. It was easier than opening himself up to the kind of pain that could destroy him.

Sure, he had lovers. Hundreds of them, scattered across the centuries. He knew his effect on females, how his reputation preceded him in Velaris and beyond. Getting them into his bed had never been difficult. Seduction was a skill, as much a part of his arsenal as Truth Teller.

But intimacy?

Intimacy was dangerous. It required vulnerability, required laying bare parts of himself that even his closest friends never saw. Instead, he kept his lovers kept away—nights spent hidden in his private apartment in Velaris, far from the prying eyes of the Inner Circle. Cassian, ever nosy, had asked once why Azriel didn’t bring anyone around.

"There’s no one worth the effort," Azriel had lied smoothly, his shadows curling tighter at his boots.

But the truth was simpler: Morrigan still held that piece of him, the piece he had given her so willingly all those years ago. Even when he learned of her female lovers—Andromache, others whose names blurred into the quiet ache of memory—he couldn’t let go. He couldn’t sever the thread that tied him to her, no matter how frayed it had become. She remained his constant, his quiet torment, the wound he refused to heal.

He had known about Andromache, of course. He was the spymaster. He heard whispers, saw things others missed. But it wasn’t his place to confront her, to ask questions that weren’t his to ask. He told himself he was waiting for her to tell him in her own time. And if she never did… well, that was her choice.

And still, Azriel loved her. Deeply. Unconditionally.

A part of him knew that if Morrigan ever looked at him and said she wanted to be with him, he would say yes in a heartbeat. He would bury the doubt, the pain, the centuries of quiet yearning and unspoken rejection, and give her anything, everything, without question. He would reshape himself to fit the pieces of her world, no matter how jagged they might be, just to hold her in his arms.

His shadows, which whispered to him of truths and lies, of danger and safety, would fall silent in her presence. Because Morrigan had been, for so long, the embodiment of everything he craved.

Hope. Courage. Life.

Azriel had chosen Morrigan as his symbol of all the things he thought he could never have. And now, he couldn’t let go.

Read The Rest on AO3

#acotar #elainarcheron #azriel #pro elain #proelriel #elrielendgame #elriel #elain x azriel #actoar fanfic #azriel x elain #azriel and elain #slow burn #pining

46 notes · View notes