#and the dagger's azriel's and should go back to him

[velarisdusk]

The Silence You Built

Azriel x Reader

-> part 2 summary: You betrayed him once. He never let you forget it. Now you're on the same side again, bound by court politics, old grudges, and a mission that ends in blood. word count: 19,803 content: [ alcohol, arranged marriage, death, explicit language, explicit sexual content, killing in self-defense, murder, near-death experiences ] author's note: this IS a one shot i promise, but tumblr says 1000 blocks max per post so i am having to split it into two posts.....smh ANYWAY this concludes the 1k apothecary celebration!!! yay!! thank you everyone who sent in reqs and everyone who's been reading, i appreciate it immensely :") also dont focus too hard on the logistics and the ‘why’ just enjoy the ride. also also please know i wrote this exclusively between the hours of 12am – 5am oops ✦ . 1k Celebration Apothecary . ✦ shadowed elixir infused with a dash of blaze enhanced with echo leaves & glimmer dust whirled THANK YOU @feerique FOR THE REQUEST AAAAAAA i loved writing this one, it was really hard to get started and planning drove me insane but im really happy with how it turned out and i think you will be too mwah thank u lyla love u mwah mwah mwah

The gown was Autumn Court red—more blood than flame. Gold embroidery stitched its bodice in curling tendrils, each thread tugging tight against your ribs like a reminder: this was not your court. This was not your choice. 

The formal engagement dinner was held in one of the Day Court’s lesser palaces, its golden spires catching the last light of sunset like spears. Helion had offered the venue as a gesture of neutrality—though everyone in the room knew where his loyalties leaned. Still, it was distant enough from Prythian’s eyes to serve its purpose. 

Neutral. As if anything in this room could be. 

You sat beside Eris Vanserra at the long obsidian table, a wine glass balanced delicately between your fingers. Eris’ fingers tapped the stem of his own glass in rhythm with the orchestra playing at the far end of the hall. Every movement he made was a performance: the amused tilt of his head, the lazy spread of his fingers on the table, the pointed glances he cast toward the Night Court’s High Lord. 

Rhysand sat across from you, dressed in midnight and stars, his expression unreadable. Feyre sat to his right, offering you a nod that felt too soft, too pitying. 

Cassian’s glare could have cleaved the table in two. Morrigan looked ready to break something lest she break herself. Azriel—

Azriel stood at the wall, half-shadow, half-sentry, his attention fixed anywhere but on you. His siphons glinted cold blue, and when Eris placed a hand on the back of your chair, Azriel’s eyes flicked over like a dagger drawn mid-step. 

You didn’t flinch. Not outwardly. 

“This is a rare thing,” Eris murmured near your ear. “A bridge forged from ash and bone.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t look at him. You sipped your wine instead, letting its sharpness anchor you. It tasted like Autumn: rich, biting, with the threat of fire. 

The political maneuvering was endless. Courtiers from both courts circled like hawks, each conversation another layer of performance. The betrothal was sold as a diplomatic triumph, a union to symbolize cooperation between once-hostile courts. But everyone knew what it really was: leverage. You were leverage.

You should be used to playing a role, Rhysand’s voice murmured in your mind, smooth and quiet as silk, when you stood to excuse yourself. 

You didn’t stop walking. Funny. Some people think I prefer masks.

His reply was a soft, almost regretful hum against your thoughts. But he let you go. 

The hallway beyond the dining chamber was cold, narrow, carved from the bones of the mountain itself. Your footsteps echoed. And then stopped. 

You weren’t alone. 

“That color doesn’t suit you.”

Azriel’s voice was a blade in the dark. He leaned against the wall near the archway, arms crossed. His shadows flickered like restless smoke. 

You met his gaze. “It’s tradition.”

“So is throwing yourself on the sword. Doesn’t make it noble.”

You turned away as he pushed off the wall. “Why?”

The question dropped between you like a gauntlet. You kept walking. 

He caught your arm.

His hand was calloused, scarred—burns trailing up like old ghosts. You stared at him. He didn’t let go. 

“You’re good at this,” he said. Voice low, rough. “I’ll give you that.”

You didn’t pull away. “And you’re good at pretending you didn’t help make me this way.”

His wings folded close, tense and coiled steel. “You don’t get to pin this on me.”

“Don’t I?”

“You didn’t even know who I was.”

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Wish I had. Would’ve saved me a hell of a lot of trouble.”

The silence stretched. 

Then, softly, you told him:

“I didn’t ask you to take me there.”

He let go of your arm. Your skin burned where his fingers had been. 

“You didn’t have to, you knew I would. You were banking on it.” He turned back toward the dining hall. 

The sound of distant music bled faintly through the stone. 

You straightened your spine, took in a breath of fresh air, and walked back into the fire. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You hadn’t always belonged to Eris Vanserra.

Once—long before the wine-dark gown, before politics turned your spine to steel and your face to glass—you had belonged to no one. Hunted, half-starved, you’d clawed your way through frostbitten hills and timeworn protections until you reached the Night Court. 

Azriel found you there. 

Not in a meadow or a clearing, not wrapped in moonlight like some storybook waif. You were curled between the roots of an old spruce tree, blood smeared down your arm, one boot missing, breathing shallow. Your lips were cracked from the cold. You flinched from the light glinting off of his siphons. 

He watched you for a long moment, unreadable. Shadows coiled around him like wary dogs, uncertain whether to snarl or protect. 

He should have left you. 

You were nothing. No scent he recognized. No Court colors. No identifying insignia, not even in the lining of your tattered cloak. Just the ragged, wild-eyed tremble of someone who had fled through hell and hadn’t yet realized they’d made it out. 

He crouched beside you, unreadable. 

Your eyes fluttered open. Glanced at the midnight sky. Then at him. And you whispered, hoarse and cracked:

“Please… Please, don’t take me back. I can’t go back. They’ll find me.”

Azriel said nothing. 

“Please.”

You reached for him. Your fingers barely touched his leathers before falling away, but it was enough. 

He didn’t know who they were. But your terror wasn’t fake. And he’d seen enough in his life to recognize when someone had been hunted. 

So instead of doing the sensible thing and alerting Rhysand, instead of dragging you to the River House, he took you somewhere else. 

To the only place no sunlight touched. 

The Hewn City was not merciful, but then again, neither were you. 

Once your wounds healed—slowly, under Azriel’s careful regulation and disapproval—you didn’t waste time asking why he’d helped you.

You didn’t ask when he would send you back. Only if.

The others living underneath that godsforsaken mountain watched you with thinly veiled hunger. Curiosity. Disdain.

But they didn’t touch you. Because the shadowsinger had brought you.

He visited irregularly, always from the shadows. Spoke in clipped sentences. Never stayed long.

But you remembered the first time you asked him a question:

“Who do they think I am?”

He didn’t answer. Not really.

“They think what you let them.”

And you—feral thing that you were—learned to adapt, to survive, to become something they wouldn’t dare touch. You sharpened your tongue, practiced stillness. Learned the power in saying nothing at all. 

You danced with courtiers and whispered truths like poison into the right ears. You clawed your way into the inner circle—not a power, not a threat, but a presence. One Keir allowed to linger in the background of his court. You played the game. 

And Azriel—he watched it happen over the years. His visits grew colder. Shorter. 

Eventually, you spoke.

Eventually, you smiled. Not kindly. Not ever.

You never told him what you were running from. But you told him what you remembered. You told him how pain nests in bone. How fear rewires the mind. How cruelty speaks in lullabies and lessons and leashes.

And he listened.

Azriel, who said almost nothing and felt far too much, who watched the world like it owed him blood—he listened to you.

Maybe that’s when it started.

Maybe that’s when everything went wrong.

Because what bloomed in that darkness wasn’t love. It was need. Mutual. Messy. Ugly.

The way he stared too long when you called him by name. The way you touched his shoulder when he turned to go. The way you both let silence stretch, like it could hold something sacred. You never kissed, never undressed, never asked. But the knowing was there.

Just not the kind that offered answers. Whether you were a loose end or a long play. A liability or a choice he still regretted making. And you never asked Azriel why he’d left you there. Maybe it was mercy. Maybe it was a mistake. 

When the supply caravans came—laden with wine and medicinal tinctures—you learned when to disappear. 

Ten minutes at most. Ten minutes in the trees before your absence became suspicious.

Your contact never told you who they worked for. You didn’t ask. You only knew what they wanted: names, movements, conversations. Details of the Night Court’s power. Of Rhysand’s visits. Of Keir’s ambitions. 

You only needed ten minutes. 

But you took eleven. 

By the time you returned, heart still hammering from the sprint through wet leaves and root-tangled earth, the caravan wagons were already groaning back through the canyon mouth, the mountain and wards closing behind them with a sound like bones grinding beneath the earth.

You froze just beyond the treeline, caked in soil and sweat, your lungs clawing for air. Too far to be seen—but close enough to know you’d been shut out. 

The Hewn City would take your absence as treason. Keir would make a spectacle of your punishment and subsequent execution. And there was no one left to cover for you. Not after what you’d just done. 

So you ran. 

Not south, not toward the border—the patrols were tighter there. You knew that from the meetings you’d sat in on. You went deeper. 

Past the wild rivers and night-blooming groves, past the reach of mapped terrain. You ran until your boots bled, until the cold sank into your marrow and every cracked branch sounded like pursuit. 

You slept in tree hollows and between boulders. You drank from puddles that tasted like rot. 

And when the shadows came, you thought they were phantoms of your own exhaustion. 

Until they weren’t. 

You woke the next morning to the smell of smoke—low and bitter, like burnt pine—and the press of a blade at your throat.

He didn’t speak, not at first.

Just knelt in front of you in the snow, his wings half-furled, the morning mist clinging to him like armor.

Azriel.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t beg.

You only looked at him and said, hoarse and raw, “It’s too late.”

Something flickered in his face—recognition, maybe. Or fury. But the knife withdrew.

You wouldn’t learn until much later that Rhysand had spoken to him in that way only he can. That Rhysand had ordered him not to touch you. That the information you’d shared had quickly gotten people killed. 

Azriel’s eyes bore into yours, and he said, low and quiet, “Get up.”

You didn’t argue.

Didn’t flinch when his shadows slithered closer, cold and damp against your skin. You only rose—slow, unsteady—and followed him in silence through the forest, their chill coiling tight around your limbs like shackles half-formed from smoke. 

The journey back took less than an hour. You’d wandered in a panic, looped in circles, maybe. Or maybe he’d known exactly where to find you all along.

The mountain loomed, silent and cavernous, its sealed threshold parting at his approach. 

You didn’t expect a warm welcome, but you also didn’t expect that.

No words. No accusations. Not even from Morrigan, who looked at you like she’d seen a ghost and then walked away.

Rhysand only looked at you once, cool and unreadable, before nodding to two guards.

“Solitary,” he said. “She doesn’t speak to anyone.”

Azriel stepped forward, grip on you tight as ever. “She killed—”

“That’s an order.”

A pause. Heavy, cutting. Azriel didn’t look at you, but the air around him felt as dark as the blade he hadn’t put down since he found you.

They locked you in the farthest cell in the lower wards. No torchlight. No contact. You weren’t even questioned.

Time frayed. Days unspooled into weeks, into months—into something that stopped mattering. 

They gave you food, barely. No one spoke. No one came—until Rhysand had. 

Not until the bruises healed. Not until your nails grew back, after splitting down to the quick. Not until your voice recovered from the croak it became through night after night spent screaming. Not until that croak became one from disuse. 

Then he appeared one night, without warning. No guards. Just him and that damned velvet darkness curling behind his shoulders. 

“Interesting,” he said, surveying your wrecked form. “I expected you to break.”

You didn’t answer. What would’ve been the point?

He stood outside the bars, hands folded behind his back like this was a court meeting, not a prison cell. 

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he said lightly. “You’re going to tell me what you know. I’m not asking for everything. Just enough. And in return… you get out.”

Still, you said nothing.

You knew how this worked. 

“A room. Food. Warm clothes. And your life.” A smile, thin and sharp. “For now.”

Your voice was raw when you spoke. 

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“Don’t you?” Rhysand disappeared into the curling darkness, which slithered through bars of your cell. Slowly, he reappeared in front of you, crouched down on a knee. “I kept my spymaster from breaking your legs. Worse, likely, considering that your choices that night cost the lives of some good males.”

You laughed—a rasping, broken sound you hadn’t made in quite some time. “He wouldn’t.”

Rhysand only looked at you. 

And that’s when you realized that, yes, he absolutely would have. 

You’d stolen something from him. From all of them. 

“You’ll work for me,” Rhysand said. “Not openly. Not as part of the court. But I’ll call on you when I need eyes where mine can’t go.”

His gaze raked over you, assessing. 

“You’re good at slipping between cracks. I need someone no one will recognize. You’re already halfway gone.”

“And if I say no?”

Rhysand’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Then Azriel gets what he’s been waiting for these last eight years.”

Rhysand was true to his word. 

He found you a cabin tucked so deep in the mountains you sometimes wondered if even he could find it again. It sat nestled among wind-bent pines and snow-worn strone, far from any road or trail. There was no village nearby. No neighbors. Just the howl of wind across slate and the hush of drifting snow. 

You kept to yourself. Hunted, grew what little you could. Rhysand sent care packages every week—always enough food, always quietly extravagant in the details. Wine from Velaris. Salted meats. Books, when you dared to read again. New boots when your old ones began to tear. 

It should’ve felt like exile. But after the lower wards, the sounds of nature were a mercy. The solitude, once sharp and echoing, dulled into stillness. Predictable. Painless. Better than stone walls and screaming. Better than the dark. And in time, it became something close to peace. 

You didn’t speak aloud for months. Didn’t hear your name for longer. 

It was years before you were called on again. 

Not often. Not publicly. 

A coded letter. A knock at your door. A job that looked nothing like a job. Just names. Observations. A slip of information overheard in the right alley. Those were the only times you ventured into the city, Velaris, he’d called it. 

Azriel didn’t come to see you. Didn’t speak to you at the odd meeting you attended. But you felt him watching—when Rhysand spoke your name in strategy sessions, when your intel proved true, when the court called the job finished and Azriel still tracked the trail for weeks after. 

The resentment simmered. Not just for what you’d done, but for the fact that Rhysand had chosen you again. 

Rhysand trusted you with the cracks Azriel couldn’t squeeze through, though his shadows were entirely capable. 

And Azriel—Azriel—who bled and killed and fought for the court, had to listen to his brother say:

“She gets results.”

He didn’t speak to you, but once—months after your first assignment ended, after you’d ghosted through the Palace of Bone and Salt and returned with names Rhysand hadn’t even asked for—Azriel passed you in the hall.

His voice was quiet. 

“You think this makes you loyal?”

You didn’t look at him. And you didn’t answer. 

Because even now—especially now—you still don’t know what he wants from you. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The hall hummed with low conversation, the scrape of fine dresses and sharp-edged laughter weaving between sips of wine and clinking glasses. You settled back into your seat, eyes trained on the flickering candlelight, the firelight playing across the obsidian surface of the table.

Eris’ smile was slow, sharp, predatory as he caught your slight hesitation before you sat. He leaned close, voice dripping with poison and amusement.

“So, you returned,” he said, eyes flicking toward Azriel, who remained unmoving at the wall. “I was beginning to worry that another of Rhysand’s Illyrian brutes had soiled my bride-to-be yet again.” His gaze landed deliberately on Morrigan across the table, who met it with a single, elegant middle finger—graceful somehow. 

The room’s atmosphere crackled, but no one dared speak the unspoken tension aloud.

“I must admit, I’m surprised,” Eris continued, voice quieter but no less venomous. “The Night Court’s High Lord, lending you to the Autumn Court’s cause.”

Cassian’s jaw clenched, Morrigan’s fingers curled, Feyre’s eyes flickered with unease. Even Rhysand’s mask of calm showed the faintest tightness.

Eris’ smile curved cruelly. “But I’m confident you’ll adapt. The Autumn Court has its own ways of… refining wild things. Turning them into something more palatable. With enough time, even embers learn to behave.”

You caught Rhysand’s gaze across the table then—a cold, steady lock of eyes that spoke volumes in silence. No words, no commands, just the faintest warning wrapped in concern: Hold steady.

You met his eyes and held them.

Cassian’s glare shifted to Eris, then back to you, his silent fury almost tangible. Morrigan’s hand tightened on her glass, her voice cool when she finally spoke. “Funny—males always think that. Right before they learn the hard way.”

Feyre’s nod was subtle but firm. “She’s not a pawn to be moved.”

Eris’ smirk faltered for a heartbeat, but he recovered quickly. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

The music swelled, a haunting melody threading through the tension as the night stretched onward. The players in this deadly game were all here, watching, waiting.

And you were no longer invisible.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Back at the River House the next day, the afternoon light shone through the tall windows of his office. The heavy curtains had been drawn back, but the chill in the air hadn’t lessened. Your head still buzzed from last night’s poisoned words and veiled threats, but the game had only just begun.

Rhysand stood by the window, arms crossed, watching the sun’s beams reflect off the Sidra. When he finally turned to face you, his expression was firm but tinged with something like frustration. 

“They’re insistent,” he said quietly. “No flights. No winnowing. You have to walk the entire way to Autumn. It’s their condition. Their way of testing you—or breaking you.”

You didn’t say anything. You’d expected nothing less.

He gestured toward the door, and before you could ask, Azriel stepped through. His presence was a silent storm, all tightly coiled muscles and simmering resentment.

“I’m sending him with you,” Rhysand said, voice low but steady. “Azriel will escort you. Keep you safe—or keep you in line.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Azriel’s eyes met yours—sharp, cold. 

Rhysand looked back at you, just for a moment. 

“Did you neglect to tell your hound you were sending him out?”

The insult earned you a look. “It wouldn’t have happened otherwise.”

That much was true. You had to bite back a laugh at Azriel’s reaction. 

“This isn’t how any of us wanted this to go,” he continued. “But it’s how it has to be.”

You held his gaze, unflinching. 

“You leave in two weeks,” he finished.

And you did. 

When he knocked on your cabin door the morning of the trek, you were already dressed, a worn pack slung over your shoulder, supplies carefully arranged inside. Azriel stood beside him, silent and still as ever, shadows coiling faintly as his boots like restless hounds. He didn’t speak, didn’t so much as glance your way. Just waited. The moment you stepped out and took his arm, Rhysand’s magic curled around the three of you like a shadowed cloak as the world blurred and twisted beneath your feet. In a blink, the moss-soft earth and pine-thick air of your cabin vanished—replaced by a quiet stretch of open land where the sky hung in a swirl of eternal dusk, smeared with the last blues of night and the first golds of day. 

You landed silently, boots pressing into damp, moss-softened earth. Azriel’s shadow flickered beside you, his wings half-furled, muscles taut and ready. The only sounds were the distant call of night-birds and the whisper of the wind threading through ancient trees.

Rhysand exhaled softly, the sky casting lavender shadows across his face. “This is where I leave you,” he said, not without gentleness. “There are wards along the path—through Day, at least—ones keyed to Az’s magic. They’ll know you. They’ll protect you.”

You glanced between them. “And after that?”

Rhysand’s mouth quirked. “Then you’re on your own.”

You tilted your head. “Comforting.”

For a moment, none of you moved. Then Rhysand stepped forward, adjusted the strap of your pack on your shoulder with a care that surprised you. “Try not to insult anyone too important.”

“I’ll do my best,” you said dryly. 

Azriel’s eyes locked on yours, sharp as ever. There was no warmth in them—only duty, and something like disdain.

The pop of Rhysand’s departure left a vacuum behind. The silence he’d abandoned was heavy, taut as a wire. You stood still for a moment, letting it settle—letting the full weight of what lay ahead press against your ribs.

Azriel adjusted the strap of his leathers. Already turning south. Already done with this.

You followed. Of course you did.

For the first mile, there was only the sound of boots over grass, the hush of wind combing through heavy, green-drenched branches. The sun filtered in patches—honeyed and slanting, more glow than heat. He didn’t speak, didn’t look at you, didn’t so much as glance to make sure you were keeping up.

So you tried, after another stretch of silence. Tried to breach the tension, if only to feel less like a prisoner being marched to the gallows.

“You miss them yet?” you asked lightly. “Your shadows.” Only one seemed to brave the sun today, creeping along behind him like it wasn’t sure it belonged here.. 

He didn’t slow. “No.”

“They miss you.”

“They’ll survive.”

You bit your lip, eyes narrowing. “Right. Because you’re known for your warm and chatty companionship.”

He stopped.

Just—stopped, so abruptly that you nearly collided into him.

Azriel turned, and when his eyes met yours, they were razor-edged. “I’m not here to entertain you.”

“I didn’t ask you to,” you shot back, heat licking your voice now. “Forgive me for trying to make this a little less miserable for the both of us.”

“I don’t care if you’re miserable.” His voice was low, steady. “I’m walking you to the Autumn Court. That’s it. That’s all.”

You stared at him. At the steel in his posture, the flatness in his tone. The calculation in every breath.

“Fine. Got it.”

He turned away again, already moving.

“And if the Mother loves me,” he said without looking back, “Eris will kill you before we make it to his gates so I don’t have to.”

It shouldn’t have surprised you—but the cruelty of it landed like a blade you’d half expected and still failed to dodge. 

You made it twenty miles that day, and your boots started to betray you. The pain had crept in slowly, like rot in damp wood, until every step throbbed with heat and raw friction. Azriel hadn’t looked back once. Not when you stumbled. Not when you bit back a wince. Not when you trailed behind, your pride dragging like a second shadow. 

By the time the sun dipped low, painting one of the many white-stoned Day Court cities in amber and rose, you’d stopped feeling your legs entirely. Just numbness and grit and the slow, cold curl of resentment in your chest. 

Azriel said nothing as he strode through the open gate. He didn’t ask for your opinion when he slipped the innkeeper a silver mark or when he took the single brass key and climbed the stairs ahead of you.

You expected him to disappear into the room and slam the door behind him, leaving you to find your own bed of hay and splinters. But instead, he opened the door. Waited. Let you step inside first.

It was a modest room, clean and plain, with sun-washed curtains and a washbasin in the corner. And one bed. Just one.

You stared at it. Then at him.

He didn’t flinch. Didn’t frown. Just crossed his arms and said flatly, “I’ll go back and ask. You sleep there.” He nodded to the bed, then glanced toward the door like he already wanted to be through it. “Alone.”

“Oh, thank the Cauldron,” you muttered. “For a second, I thought you might make me sleep on the floor out of spite.”

Azriel didn’t blink. “Tempting.” Then he turned and left.

No slam. No hiss of shadows. Just the quiet click of the door.

You dug through your pack in silence, unwrapping a strip of dried meat and forcing down a few mouthfuls. It tasted like ash. Like the inside of your cheek, bitten raw

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Absolutely not.”

“Azriel, come on–”

“Don’t–”

“It makes sense and you know it.”

“The hell I do!”

“We’d be halfway through Dawn by now!” you snapped, gesturing at the empty horizon like the open fields could argue for you. “We’ve been walking for four hours, my feet are shredded, and we’re wasting time because you’ve got some sort of martyr complex about actually walking the whole fucking way.”

His jaw clenched so tightly you heard the grind of his molars. 

“It would get me out of your hair faster.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do,” you bit out, stepping closer, bracing. “If we keep this pace, I’ll make it to Autumn in pieces. Only one of us is a trained soldier here, and it obviously isn’t me. So unless you want to hand me over half-dead, grow up and fly us.”

Azriel’s wings twitched behind him. A warning. His shadows snapped tighter around his shoulders, jittering like they weren’t sure if they should’ve joined him today. 

You waited, chest heaving, sweat stinging your eyes as you stared him down.

Finally, he exhaled. It was a sound scraped from stone.

“Put your bag across your front,” he said, voice low and deadly calm. “Strap it tight.”

You did, fingers fumbling with the buckle, half-expecting him to change his mind. When you looked up again, his face was unreadable. Detached. Like this wasn’t happening to him.

He stepped toward you.

Then, without a word, he scooped you into his arms—fast, efficient, like hoisting a sack of grain. His hands were careful, impersonal. One under your knees, the other braced around your back, calloused fingers and scarred skin brushing your clothes like even that contact cost him. He avoided your skin like it might burn him.

You felt the tension in him, coiled and precise. Every muscle held in check. Like carrying you required more restraint than violence ever had.

“Don’t move,” he said tightly.

You didn’t dare.

And then the world dropped out from under you.

Air roared in your ears, whipping past in cold, sharp streams as Azriel launched into the sky. His wings beat with ruthless efficiency, each stroke sending you higher, faster, away from the dirt and blistered miles.

It was silent—except for the wind. Too loud for talking. Too much movement, too many things to hold onto. You didn’t dare wrap your arms around him, so you gripped the strap of your bag instead, knuckles bone-white as you pressed back against the unyielding wall of his chest.

He didn’t look at you. Didn’t glance down, didn’t speak.

You weren’t sure what hurt more: the cold or the quiet.

The view was stunning. It was always stunning—the Day Court’s golden sprawl stretching out beneath you like scattered coins, gilded trees and glinting rooftops, rivers catching the sun and throwing it back tenfold. You might’ve said something about it. Once. A lifetime ago.

You kept your eyes on the horizon, not his arms, not the steady rhythm of his breathing or the strength beneath you. Pretending it was nothing. That this was nothing. That you weren’t half-curled against someone who hated you, who had no obligation to carry your weight. 

And still he had. 

You hadn’t seen him come out of any room at the inn, hadn’t heard him come back in, hadn’t heard a word. Had he slept outside? In silence with shadows for company?

You told yourself you didn’t care. 

You told yourself a lot of things these days. 

Still, after the first hour—when your pulse had steadied and your heart had stopped mistaking his proximity for threat—you tried.

“Your shadows are probably jealous,” you said, tilting your head toward his shoulder. “They’re missing all the fun.”

It wasn’t a great joke. You hadn’t really meant it to be. Just something to fill the air between you, something that might loosen the steel in his spine.

It didn’t.

Azriel’s jaw ticked. His eyes remained locked on the horizon.

“They’ll survive.”

You swallowed the next line. Let it dissolve on your tongue.

Right. 

You didn’t say another word for the rest of the flight. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“We’re stopping?”

Azriel didn’t respond right away. He landed hard, wings flaring wide to keep from toppling as he set you down on your feet.

“We’re walking from here.”

“Why?” You adjusted your bag, breath catching as you turned in a slow circle, realizing: the terrain ahead was…wrong. The trees grew in twisting patterns, roots curling over one another like veins. The sky was still blue, but the light felt off—too gold, too late, like sunset bled in where it didn't belong. And silent. Too silent.

He exhaled through his nose, gaze sweeping the horizon. “This is The Middle. It doesn’t answer to any court. Not even Rhys.”

“So?”

“So, there are wards. Old ones. Things that twist magic, turn wings to lead if it feels like, scramble your senses if you fly too high. Winnowing’s out of the question, too. You could end up inside a tree.”

A beat passed. Then, quieter: “We fly over it, we die in it. We walk.”

“That seems excessive.”

“The Middle doesn’t care what seems excessive.” He finally looked at you then, eyes shadow-slick and unreadable. “It isn���t a forest. It’s a graveyard that hasn’t made up its mind yet.” 

You swallowed. “And we’re walking into that?”

“Unless you want to turn around.”

You held his gaze for a beat longer than you usually could. “No.”

He nodded once. “Then stay close. No firelight. No loud voices. No touching anything that doesn’t want to be touched.”

“Sounds like traveling with you.”

Azriel didn’t smile. But his shoulders loosened by a hair’s breadth.

The ground was damp beneath your boots. Not muddy, not wet—just… damp. Like the earth hadn’t dried in centuries, like the land breathed out mist and rot and kept it curled close to the ground.

The Middle didn’t look like much. Not yet. A thick belt of trees, mountains, a breeze that didn’t match the direction of the clouds. But you could feel it in your chest, like a second pulse that didn’t belong to you. A watcher. An echo. A something.

You adjusted your bag straps quietly.

Azriel walked ahead, wings tucked tight, blades visible but quiet at his sides. His steps were nearly soundless. The only real noise came from your own boots snapping thin twigs, crushing brittle pine needles.

The trees grew stranger as you went. Bark in shades you didn’t have names for. A vine that shimmered like glass. A rock shaped exactly like a skull, and not old.

Azriel murmured, almost like he couldn’t stop himself, “Middle doesn’t care what side you’re on. Doesn’t care about courts or bloodlines. You enter, you play by its rules. Or it eats you.”

You swallowed, forcing your voice low. “You’ve been through it before?”

He nodded once.

“Alone?”

A pause. Then: “That was the first mistake.”

You didn’t ask for the rest. You wouldn’t get it anyway.

The quiet stretched again. But it wasn’t awkward now. Not quite. Just careful. Measured, like even your thoughts ought to walk in single file.

Eventually, you said—more breath than sound—

“You always like this when you travel with people?”

Azriel didn’t stop walking. “I don’t usually travel with people.”

You snorted, barely. “Lucky me.”

But he did glance at you then. Brief, unreadable.

“You’re not dead yet,” he said.

You smiled, but you didn’t feel smug about it.

A wind passed through the trees, colder than it should’ve been.

Azriel slowed slightly, motioning for you to walk closer to his side.

“Stay where I can grab you,” he muttered.

You didn’t have to be told twice.

And for a moment, just one, you thought you heard something breathing beneath the roots.

You shook it off.

It was probably just—

A rustle to your left.

You stilled.

Azriel kept walking.

Then—snap. A crunch, low to the ground. Fast.

You turned your head—

—and screamed.

It launched out of the underbrush like a dart—small, fast, furred but wrong, too many teeth in the wrong places. You stumbled back just as it leapt for your throat—

Steel caught it mid-air.

Azriel’s blade punched straight through its gut, pinning it to the moss-covered tree behind you with a sickening thud.

It gave one final spasm before going still.

You were breathing hard. Chest heaving. Hands half-raised in disbelief.

Azriel didn’t look at you.

He just withdrew the blade, and the thing’s corpse hit the ground with a wet, final thunk. He shook off the blood, and wiped it on a cloth from his belt. “Don’t scream,” he said evenly.

Your voice came out shaky. “It had teeth.”

“Everything here has teeth.”

You exhaled, still rattled, and brushed yourself off. You’d fallen back after your stumble. There were pine needles stuck to your pants, a smudge of dirt on your sleeve, something on your hand. Sticky. Unidentified. Fantastic. 

And just as you stood, Azriel reached over—without ceremony, without pause—and plucked two curled leaves from your hair.

His fingers were quick, impersonal. Like swiping lint from a jacket.

Then he turned and kept walking.

“Stay close,” he said again.

Not unkind. Not sharp. Just… matter-of-fact.

You caught up with him, still glancing back at the gnarled corpse slumped against the bark.

“What was that?” you asked, trying to sound more annoyed than embarrassed. You weren’t sure it worked.

Azriel didn’t glance your way. “Spinecrawler.”

You blinked. “Spinecrawler?”

“They like damp places. Dead things. Roots. Small birds, if they’re lucky.”

“That thing went for my throat.”

Now he looked at you—just a flick of his eyes, unreadable.

“They’re territorial,” he said. “But mostly harmless. They bluff a lot.”

You stared at him, still catching your breath. “You’re saying that was a bluff.”

Azriel’s mouth quirked.

“I’ve seen people take a dagger to the ribs without making that much noise,” he said mildly.

You bristled. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

His eyes returned to the path ahead, voice dry. “Clearly.”

You let out a breath—half a huff, half a laugh. “Asshole.”

But your voice wasn’t sharp, and for the first time in days, you weren’t just tired. 

He didn’t smile, but the silence that followed the next few minutes felt easier.

Quieter, in a different way.

You were about to ask how much farther when Azriel’s head snapped up.

He stilled—completely. Like a statue dropped mid-stride.

You stopped, too, one foot half-raised. “What is it?”

He didn’t answer.

Shadows curled off him like smoke.

“Run.”

The word was low. Sharp. Laced with command.

But you didn’t have time to obey.

A crimson-cloaked figure burst from the trees ahead—no warning, no sound. Just motion and steel and the glint of an Autumn crest burned into battered armor.

He lunged for you. Azriel was already moving. 

Steel met steel with a clash that rattled your bones. Azriel intercepted the blow mid-swing, blade sparking off blade. He shoved the attacker back with brutal force—but more were coming. 

Dozens.

Had Eris really…?

They stepped out from the trees like ghosts—nobles and guards and hardened veterans, their armor weathered, their eyes painted red. 

“They knew,” Azriel murmured, voice taut with fury. “They planned this.”

He reached for your arm. “We’re getting out—”

But two charged from behind before he could finish. You ducked instinctively—barely in time. Azriel whirled, one blade striking true, the other arm flung wide. 

Light burst forth from his palm.

It wasn’t a beam so much as a line of obliteration. 

The Autumn male behind you never screamed. The blast tore straight through him, then through the tree beyond—splintering bark, igniting rot, reducing it all to a searing smear of flame. 

Your ears rang, the males that had been closing in on you both faltered. 

Azriel didn’t hesitate. “Stay down!” he snapped, already stepping over the body to meet the next two. 

You scrambled behind a tree—useless, stupid, too slow. 

He was everywhere at once. Blades flashing, siphons flaring. A line of blue-white power burned a semicircle into the earth. One attacker caught in it crumpled with a smoking hole punched through his chest. 

You’d never seen anyone fight like this… Without restraint. 

There was something brutal about him like this—elemental.

Every movement was exact. Each strike landed with purpose, never wasted.

And the way his shadows moved with him—rising like a storm, lashing out where he could not reach fast enough—it was like watching a god descend.

Not just a warrior.

Not just a male.

Something more.

You didn’t realize you’d been staring until your eyes flicked to the next soldier—another Autumn male, burnt red cloak trailing, sword glinting. And another. And another.

Why?

You blinked hard.

Why was this happening?

You had helped Autumn. Years ago. You’d betrayed the Night Court for them. Risked your life to smuggle out intel to one of Eris’ contacts—given him the chance he needed. So why now? Why send soldiers after you like an enemy? Why—

A war cry split the air.

You spun just in time to see a male charging straight for you.

Eyes wild. Mouth twisted in rage.

His blade was raised and ready.

“For Beron!” he screamed.

… Beron?

You barely had time to gasp.

“Az—!”

The name tore from your throat as you stumbled back.

You couldn’t take your eyes off the male, couldn’t even think.

You flinched. Squeezed your eyes shut. Braced for pain. For steel.

But it didn’t come.

Instead—an arm wrapped tight around you, hauling you back.

And then the world split.

Not in light. Not in color.

In shadow.

You felt it like cold water crashing through your lungs, like being dropped into an abyss with no bottom.

But something was wrong.

This wasn’t how it had felt before. This was ripping.

Like being caught.

The grip on your waist vanished.

You landed hard—slammed into wet ground that stank of rot. And everything went dark.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

He felt it the moment she slipped. 

One heartbeat she was pressed to his side—warm, solid, if a bit shaky.

The next, she was gone. 

Yanked sideways by the wards’ interference—by something other. 

“NO—”

The snarl ripped from his chest as he twisted, shadows shrieking out of him in all directions. 

But he couldn’t find her. Couldn’t feel her. 

The trees screamed with light. His siphons flared uncontrolled.

Strong hands grabbed his arm—he threw them to the ground without looking.

Where was she?

Where was she?

Azriel hit the ground hard.

Shoulder-first. Mud splashed, cold and reeking of rot and old blood. The impact jarred up his spine, but he was already moving—already pushing to his feet, scanning.

No sound. No scent.

No (y/n).

His shadows whipped out like hounds, searching. Useless.

He turned in a slow circle.

Trees—twisted and wrong, their bark slick like bone marrow.

His jaw clenched. He inhaled once—deep, steadying. Then again, sharper. Shallower.

“… (Y/n),” he said. Low. Controlled. As if quiet might anchor reality. Might make her answer.

Nothing.

He started walking.

Then striding.

Then running.

Shadow after shadow shot out like flares—searching, reporting back with nothing but silence.

He winnowed once. Twice. The magic resisted like thick oil. The third time, he nearly retched. But still—he moved. Kept moving. Branches tore at his wings. His leathers. His face.

He called out again—louder this time, but still composed. Still hoping.

“(Y/N)!”

Still no answer.

His pace broke. He stopped. Listened.

Then louder—harder—because she should’ve answered by now.

“(Y/N)!”

Still nothing.

His breath was ragged now.

He turned in place again. Something in him—the part that always found people, that always knew—was blank.

“(Y/N)!”

The cry cracked out of him like thunder.

It echoed. Nothing answered.

“Fuck!”

His fist shot toward the nearest tree, stopping inches short. He ground his teeth, the bark rough against his skin. Restraint tasted like fire, but he held back. And started running again.

Before he knew it, the sun was low, skimming orange against the horizon, bleeding rust through the trees. 

He’d looped the same stretch of forest three times. Four. He didn’t know anymore.

The woods in the Middle didn’t repeat themselves, not truly, but they liked to pretend they did. Trees where they hadn’t been. Paths where there were none. Tracks gone the moment he turned his back.

Still no trace.

No sound. No voice.

Just trees. Just silence.

His jaw clenched hard enough to crack.

He was supposed to find people.

Even when no one else could. Especially then.

So where the fuck was she?

His heart slammed harder with every step. It had been hours. Too long.

Too quiet.

The shadows whispering around him had gone feral.

They knew something was wrong. They hissed through the trees like blades, fanned wide and searching, searching—coming up empty.

And now, despite himself, despite everything—

He was planning how he’d say it.

What he’d tell Rhys.

“I lost her.”

“I lost her, I—fuck, I don’t know how—”

“No, it wasn’t on purpose, I swear it wasn’t—”

Because Rhysand would ask. 

And he couldn’t answer.

He didn’t have an answer.

Just the rising certainty that something had taken her.

That she was gone.

That it was his fault.

His chest constricted. The air burned in his lungs.

She’d called him a hound. She wasn’t wrong.

But even hounds couldn’t track ghosts.

And gods, that’s what it felt like.

Like she was gone. Not just missing—gone.

No… Not dead. He would’ve known.

Wouldn’t he?

His pace stuttered. His vision blurred.

He turned in place again, dragging a hand through his hair, panting.

Nothing.

Still—nothing.

And then—

A flash of red.

Caught on a thorn, barely fluttering in the still air.

He went utterly still.

His shadows surged ahead like an extension of his panic—rippling down the path.

Blood.

Not much. Just a few dried flecks, but it was her.

He knew it was her.

And something inside him snapped.

“(Y/N)!”

He surged forward, feet pounding against the leaf-strewn earth. The forest seemed to close in around him, thorns clawing at his skin, roots threatening to trip him, but he refused to slow. Every instinct screamed that she was near.

“(Y/N)! FUCKING SAY SOMETHING! PLEASE!”

Nothing.

He nearly tore the forest apart.

Branches slapped across his face, brambles tore at his leathers, but he didn’t feel any of it. He sprinted now, wild and unthinking, shadows streaming ahead like black fire.

Then—

Then he saw her.

Crushed low in the underbrush. Barely there. Half-buried in leaves, tangled in thorns.

Still.

Too still.

A sound tore from his chest—raw, ragged, animal—and he was on his knees before he knew he’d fallen.

She was pale—so pale. Not dead. Not dead. Please, not dead.

He pressed his fingers to her neck.

Not dead.

He touched her shoulder—shaking, adrenaline surging—then dragged her against his heaving chest, like that might steady him.

His hands fisted in her torn shirt, arms wrapped so tightly around her body it could’ve broken them both.

And then he buried his face in her hair.

Not a word.

Not a breath.

Just that.

He inhaled like he’d been drowning. Like her scent might drag him to shore.

His mouth found her temple. His nose pressed to her scalp. His grip didn’t ease.

Not even when she stirred with a weak sound—a wince, a gasp, a breath that might’ve been his name.

Still, he said nothing.

He just held on.

And she—

She didn’t push him away.

She cried.

“I didn’t… I didn’t want to die alone, Azriel,” she whispered, voice thin and frayed. 

“You’re not going to die,” he said, voice rough—not detached, not controlled, but strained. Like the truth of it had to shove its way past the fear choking him. 

Her fingers twitched near his chest.

“Didn’t…” A sob cracked through her. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“Shh…” He cradled her closer. “Shh, you’re okay. It’s okay. I’m here.”

His shadows curled protectively around them both, as if even they couldn’t stand the thought of losing her.

And though the forest still loomed—dark, ancient, watching—Azriel only held her tighter.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You awoke to warmth you didn’t feel. 

A thick quilt weighed down on your chest. Another was tucked tight around your legs. The mattress beneath you felt too soft to be real, and still—

Still, you were cold. 

Your body ached. Your skin felt like it didn’t quite fit right. Your mouth tasted like blood and dirt and something older. You didn’t want to think about it. 

You turned your head very slowly, every joint protesting. A dim room came into view—four walls, a low-burning hearth, a wooden chair—

Azriel. 

Slumped in it like a male who hadn’t meant to fall asleep, one wing draped awkwardly over the side, the other crammed too tight between the chair and the wall. His arms were folded across his chest, shadows curled lazily around his boots. His head tilted just enough to bare the sharp line of his throat.

He looked… peaceful.

Not serene. Not soft. But stripped of something.

That cold, impenetrable sternness he wore like armor was gone in sleep, carved away by exhaustion.

He looked—

Gods, he looked almost boyish.

You let your eyes wander. The scarred hands. The long legs splayed out in a graceless sprawl. The rise and fall of his chest. And his eyes—

They were open. 

Piercing. Alert. Fixed on you. 

You flinched so hard you nearly knocked one of the blankets off the bed. 

Azriel didn’t move.

His eyes stayed on you, unreadable in the firelight, and for a long moment the silence pressed in—so thick it felt like it might snap in two.

You swallowed against the dryness in your throat.

“Where… are we?”

His voice was low, rough with sleep or something heavier. “Healing center. Small one. Winter Court.”

Winter.

You blinked, tried to sit up—and failed. Your body gave a single trembling protest before settling back into the mattress.

He leaned forward slightly, just enough that the firelight brushed the edge of his face. “You passed out. I carried you out of the Middle during the night.” A pause. “You were freezing. As soon as we hit the border, I flew.”

You stared at him. His hands, resting on his knees. The faint soot-stain along the side of his jaw.

“I had to fly low,” he murmured. “You were so cold. Shaking in your sleep.”

Another pause.

“Had to cross the mountain range.”

Your brows pulled together. “You—flew over a mountain range in Winter? Are you alright?”

His mouth twisted slightly. Not a smile. Something tired.

“I found this town on the other side. Got lucky—they have a healer. She’s the one who patched you up.”

He didn’t add how long he must’ve flown. Or how hard it must’ve been, carrying your weight, flying in the cold, his wings nearly giving out.

But it was there. In his voice. In the look he gave you.

In the way his wings still hadn’t settled.

You didn’t know what to say.

Didn’t know how to hold the weight of what he’d done.

“You flew over a mountain range,” you repeated softly. As if saying it again might make it make sense. Might ground you in the warmth of this unfamiliar bed, these too-many blankets, his unreadable stare.

Azriel only inclined his head. As if it had been nothing. And maybe for an Illyrian it was. As if he hadn't been pressing your frostbitten skin to his chest for miles of snowy sky.

You looked at him, really looked at him.

There was a tightness around his eyes he hadn’t had before. The circles beneath them were bruised-dark. His leathers were still streaked with dirt, his hands scraped, one of them bandaged at the knuckles.

“You saved my life,” you said. Voice raw. Disbelieving.

That made him shift. His eyes dropped to the floor. “Don’t make it sound like that.”

“But it was like that,” you whispered. “You—”

Your throat closed.

“You didn’t have to—”

“I did,” he said quietly, firmly. Still not looking at you. “I have somewhere to get you, in case you forgot.”

Something clenched in your chest. You stared at him—at the shadows writhing slowly along his shoulders, at the set of his jaw, at the tattered edge of your cloak still half-draped on the chair.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you admitted, because it was the only thing that felt true.

His eyes lifted to yours again, piercing and unreadable.

“You don’t have to.”

But you did.

Somewhere inside, a door had opened. Quietly, without ceremony.

And you didn’t think it would ever fully close again.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The next two days were rough, a combination of flying and walking so Azriel could rest. His wings were stiff in the cold. He insisted he was fine, you insisted he shouldn’t risk tearing them. 

But you spoke all the way, as if words could hold off the chill burrowing into your bones.

The Autumn Court finally came into view when it was nearing sundown. 

The next two days were hard going.

A grueling rhythm of flying and walking, flying and walking—Azriel pushing himself until the cold stiffened his wings too much to continue, until you could see the strain in his shoulders no matter how tightly he gritted his jaw.

He claimed he was fine.

You called bullshit.

Neither of you backed down, but he let you walk beside him a little longer each time before taking to the skies again.

You kept talking. About nothing and everything. Filling the silence with rambling observations, old stories, things you weren’t sure you’d ever told anyone. Just to keep your teeth from chattering. Just to keep him present with you.

By the time the golden trees of the Autumn Court came into view, the sun was a red smear against the horizon.

You were both dragging your feet.

Azriel scanned the treeline, eyes narrowed like he was hunting ghosts. “We’re too close to the border to get a restful night’s sleep,” he muttered. “Let’s find shelter further in before it gets dark.”

The forest thickened as you moved, trees clawing overhead, the air still sharp. It wasn’t long before Azriel veered off the path entirely, leading you through thickets and brush until the terrain sloped into a narrow ravine. Half-hidden by vines and moss, there it was: a shallow cave dug into the ridge.

It wasn’t much. But it was dry. And hidden.

He checked it first, of course. Shadows sweeping the interior like a second pair of hands, silent and fast.

When he gave the all-clear, you staggered inside, teeth chattering, and sank to the ground like your legs had given up.

Azriel followed, wings hunched awkwardly to fit beneath the low stone ceiling.

“I’ll take first watch.”

But you didn’t want to sleep.

So you sat up and pulled your cloak tighter around your shoulders, legs stretched out in front of you, boots still caked in half-frozen mud.

Azriel settled across from you with a soft grunt, his back to the wall, one knee bent loosely. The mouth of the cave framed the forest beyond in deepening indigo. The wind outside hissed low through the trees.

You glanced over at him. “You think the cave’s full of spiders?”

His mouth twitched. “Probably.”

“Good. I was worried this was going too well.”

That earned a real smile. Brief, but warm.

For a while, there was only the rustle of wind and the distant creak of branches bowing under snow. His shadows slipped along the cave walls, slow and drowsy, curling like smoke around his shoulders.

“You ever camp out like this?” you asked eventually. “No fire. No tent. Just barely not freezing to death.”

He tipped his head back against the cool stone, throat bared, a quiet, gruff sound slipping past his lips—half sigh, half groan. “There was a stretch in the Steppes, centuries ago. I was tracking a defector. Went eleven nights without fire or light. Didn’t sleep more than ten minutes at a time.”

You winced. “Was it worth it?”

Azriel’s eyes met yours, steady. “Yeah.”

The silence that followed wasn’t tense. Just tired. Heavy.

You shifted closer to the wall and tugged the blanket tighter. “I don’t know how you don’t fall asleep standing up.”

“I might,” he said. “You’ll know because I’ll fall on you.”

You huffed a laugh, your breath fogging in front of you.

He went quiet again. But this time it felt different. The stillness stretched—not companionable now, but thoughtful.

You didn’t look at him when he spoke again.

“Are you really okay with this?”

Your heart stuttered. “With what?”

He didn’t clarify. Just gave you a look that made it clear he didn’t need to.

You looked out at the woods beyond. “I don’t really have a choice.”

“You do.”

“Not one that matters.”

A pause. 

“Just say the word,” Azriel said, voice low, “I’ll take you back if that’s what you want. Right now. I’ll fly you straight to Velaris and we won’t look back.”

You blinked.

He held your gaze, steady and calm, like he wasn’t offering to burn his court’s entire future down for you. Like it was nothing.

“Even if it’s at the altar,” he said. “Even if it’s the last second. I’ll take you out of there.”

You stared at him.

Then scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not.”

“You can’t just—” You looked away, exhaling hard. “You don’t get to say that like it’s simple. Like I could just walk away and that would fix anything.”

“It would get you out,” he said quietly.

“It would start a war, Azriel.”

Azriel didn’t respond. His shadows were still.

You pressed your hands to your face, fingers digging into your temples. “You think I haven’t thought about that? About running? About saying no? What do you think I was thinking about every hour of those two weeks—after the dinner, before we left?”

“I didn’t say it would be easy.”

“No,” you dragged your hands down. “You just said you’d throw me over your shoulder mid-vow and fly me off into the fucking sunset.”

His expression didn’t waver. “If that’s what you wanted, yes.”

A laugh broke out of you—sharp and bitter. “You think you’re doing me a kindness, but it’s cruel. Don’t—don’t offer me choices I can’t afford to take.”

His jaw shifted. But he said nothing.

You looked away again, blinking hard at the cave wall. “I don’t need saving,” you muttered. “I need this to work.”

A beat of silence passed. His voice was even softer when he spoke.

“You don’t have to do it alone.”

You didn’t answer.

Not because you didn’t want to.

But because you couldn’t trust your voice not to break.

You just stood, stiff and silent, and crossed to the far side of the cave. Curled yourself up in the thin blanket you’d managed to cram into your bag, tugging it over your shoulders like it could shield you from more than just the cold.

Azriel watched you settle, his eyes shadowed.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” he said again—firmer this time, like he needed you to hear it differently. Believe it.

Still, you said nothing.

“We can figure something out.”

That did it.

You sat up, fast. “No, we can’t.”

Azriel blinked, taken aback by the snap in your voice.

You weren’t looking at him, jaw tight, gaze fixed on the stone just past his boots. “There’s nothing to figure out. This is the plan. It’s happening.”

“You don’t sound like someone who’s at peace with that.”

“I don’t need to be at peace with it,” you bit out. “I just need to get through it.”

His brow furrowed, a slow crease forming between his eyes. “Why are you—?”

“I’m not anything,” you cut in, too quickly.

He fell silent, watching you now with quiet caution, like he was re-evaluating everything he thought he understood about your choices.

You shifted back under the blanket, turned toward the cave wall to put an end to the conversation.

Azriel didn’t speak again.

But you could feel it—his eyes still on you. The weight of what he wasn’t saying pressing into your spine like a question you didn’t want to answer.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

-> part 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[cassianandfenrysaremyboyos]

Thankyou Sathia for calling out Bryce and her rampant bigotry towards an entire people, just because a few are terrible. While at the same time feeling entitled to Fae artifacts and Fae magic/the starborn power (despite having done nothing to earn those things). Things she only has specifically because she's Fae!

[lalacliffthorne]

🖤 the fake dating scheme 🖤

Azriel x Reader

part I part II

summary: a scheme needs rules.

notes: didn't think so many people would be into this concept tbh. hope you keep enjoying it 🖤 ______________________________________________________________

The lock clicks, and I push open the door, waving my hand.

Fae lights flicker to life. Their warm glow spills through the small living room, soft and familiar, and I hesitate before looking over my shoulder.

The floorboards creak gently. Then shadows bleed over the threshold, whispering quietly, and my breath catches.

Azriel slowly steps through the doorway. His wings brush against the frame, and the warm golden light turns his eyes into liquid amber as they slide over the worn leather couch, the shelves spilling over with books and the dining table covered in documents.

Shadows coil gently around his wings, whispering where they meet the light.

He's never been here before. Maybe because I am too protective of my own space.

Now, he looks so out of place looming in the doorway that a giggle nearly bubbles in my throat.

Cauldron. This really is absolutely and entirely mad.

For a moment, I hesitate, my heart pounding firmly against my ribs. Then I turn quickly.

"I think we need to set some ground rules."

Azriel's eyes move away from the daggers on the coffee table, and something leaps softly into my throat when they meet mine.

Suddenly, I'm aware of how small the room is. How wide his shoulders are, how much space his towering body takes up. How the shadows curling around him are whispering, and how his amber eyes seem to track my every move.

My breath hitches softly.

Absolutely and entirely mad.

Azriel's gaze flickers over my face. Then he moves.

Shadows whisper gently over my skin, his scent washes over me, and for a second, the feeling of his hands wrapped around my ribs and his lashes fluttering against my cheeks washes over me.

The shadowsinger pushes past me and his rough skin brushes my wrist; my heart leaps into my throat, and I forcefully drag myself away from the memory.

Azriel leans against the dining table, stretching out his long legs and fixing his eyes on me. Then he dips his head lightly. "Go on."

Something swells a little in my chest, and I let out a slow breath.

Alright.

So far, so good.

Now I just need to manage this conversation without accidentally saying something that makes him want to murder me after all.

"Well." I slowly lean back against the arm of the sofa, my gaze flickering over the Spymaster's face. "How long do we plan on doing this?"

Azriel's eyes pierce mine. Then one of his brows rises lightly.

"I don't know. What was your plan after kissing the first male in sight?"

I blink.

I knew it.

This is a terrible idea. A harebrained, stupid idea that has cost me my last bit of remaining dignity, and now he's going to use every second of this insane charade to torment me for the single most ridiculous thing I have ever done in my whole life -

The corner of Azriel's lips curves, just barely.

My heart leaps high against my ribs. Then my shoulders sag.

"Oh, hilarious." I huff and cross my arms.

The ghost of a crease forms in Azriel's cheek.

"Just a little." His deep voice sounds dry, and something lodges gently in my throat when I stare back at him.

In the warm light, his eyes look strangely amused.

I blink. Then I quickly look away.

"Well. It should at least be long enough that it seems serious enough to count. To convince Mor that I really am alright." I crunch my brows softly. "But also not serious or long enough that - when we eventually break up, she won't believe me that I'm not heartbroken."

Azriel nods lightly.

"It has to last until Solstice. That's three months from now." His deep voice tinges with something that sounds very close to irritation when he adds in a low mumble: "That should prove to Cass and Rhys I'm not incapable of lasting connection."

Something dips gently in my chest in surprise, and my gaze darts up and flickers over his face.

I can't help but wonder if he's irritated by their assumption - or if maybe, they're right.

"Have you never had a relationship?"

The question is out before I can stop it. Then my heart drops, and my eyes widen.

Azriel's dark gaze rises and settles on mine, and I nearly shrink.

Oh Mother.

I'm busted.

Quickly, I blurt: "I just - well, Cass and Rhys have known you for basically your whole life, and if you say they don't think you're capable of lasting connection, that implies that they've never seen you in one before, which in turn means you never had a relationship."

One of Azriel's brows quirks.

I blink.

I'm also dead.

For a second, we stare at each other over the coffee table. Then Azriel's voice vibrates through me, deep and slow and unbelievably dry.

"You do realise that just because they have never seen me in a relationship does not mean that I have never been in one."

I blink.

Right.

"Anyway." Feeling my cheeks heat and tearing my eyes away hastily, I clear my throat. "What else?"

Just for a second, Azriel's eyes flash with that same strangely amused twinkle.

"I need you to be there for as many social occasions as possible." He straightens lightly, voice slow and steady. "Whether it's family dinner, a formal gathering or something else. That way Rhys and Cass stay off my back, and it keeps - unwanted attention away from both of us." His gaze pierces mine, and my heart leaps gently.

"Alright." I hesitate for a second, my eyes flickering over his face.

I've been thinking about the next point since I've brought up ground rules.

It's the one I'm most certain will cause him to change his mind and decide that ripping me to shreds might actually be a joyful compensation for the situation I have dragged him into.

But I know that without it, this whole scheme will blow up in our faces.

So I breathe in and and out, blurting the dreaded words with the exhale.

"We need to spend time together apart from everyone else."

Azriel's eyes sharpen in the warm light.

Just for a second, a muscle in his jaw tightens.

My heart leaps against my ribs, and I shrug softly, offering him a hesitant smile. "They're going to get suspicious if we only make a point of showing up together when people are watching."

Azriel's gaze pierces mine. It's dark, and unwavering, and I stare back, bracing myself for the inevitable.

The shadowsinger blinks slowly. Then his voice brushes over my skin, low and steady.

"Any ideas?"

Something catches softly in my throat.

Azriel just watches me. Calm, waiting.

I blink and somehow manage to pull myself together.

"I don't know, say - sleep five nights a week together?" My heart leaps high, and my eyes widen a little as I add hastily: "I- I mean act like we do. Sleep - together." I blink. "Not actually sleep together — I mean, just sleep in the same room."

Somehow, I manage to shut myself up because I can make it worse. Something is thrumming against my ribs.

Azriel's eyes are fixed on mine.

This is a terrible idea.

Truly, awful, terrible idea -

"Four nights."

My thoughts of impending doom screech to an abrupt halt, and my gaze flies up.

Azriel crosses his arms, his gaze steady and calm. He sounds strangely unbothered given what he's currently agreeing to.

"We'll have to see how our assignments line up. It'll probably be easiest if we spend most nights here, because there's nobody around to be nosy." His brow quirks lightly. But he looks only mildly irritated; maybe even a little amused when he adds: "We are going to have to spend at least a few nights at the Townhouse now and then though, so nobody gets suspicious." His eyes pierce mine, glowing in the light. Then the corner of his lips curves, just barely. "I'll take the couch."

Something under my ribs swells.

Maybe we will actually be fine.

Well. Don't push it.

"Alright." Exhaling, I nod.

For a moment, I hesitate and chew on my lip. Then I blurt softly: "How far are we going?"

The shadowsinger lightly quirks an eyebrow. His eyes are swirling amber in the warm light.

"I mean -" My gaze flickers over his face, and my throat closes gently. "I just -"

Don't know how much I can handle without bursting.

Azriel's gaze shifts and narrows in. Something closes gently around my chest when it deepens until it seems to burn through my skin. Then his low voice brushes over my skin, slow and firm.

"I don't care what you think anybody expects." His eyes pierce mine, brows drawing together gently almost like he's willing me to listen very closely. "You decide how far you are willing to go."

Suddenly, there's a small, gentle lump in my throat.

"What about you?" My voice is soft when my eyes dart over his.

The planes of Azriel's face looks like carved from marble. But his eyes are calm and steady when he returns my gaze.

"I'll just follow your lead."

I exhale, and something swells harshly under my ribs when my shoulders sink.

"Alright." I nod slowly.

Azriel's eyes glide over my face like he's making sure I mean it. Then he nods back lightly.

"Well." I breathe in and raise my brows. "We are going to have to create some kind of - illusion of intimacy. I mean, I think we can agree on the fact that we won't have to be as bold as Cassian would be, I mean, neither of us is the type for that, so it would actually be more suspicious if we were too obvious -" I exhale again and raise my head. "How about we just agree to follow what feels - natural. In the moment."

Azriel's eyes pierce mine. Then he nods once, steady and calm.

"Alright." I nod back. "I guess we will figure the rest out along the way." My lips twitch as suddenly, something is fluttering against my ribs. It feels strangely giddy.

I raise my brows. "This feels secretive enough to warrant an oath to hold us to our agreement."

I'm almost sure I can see Azriel's lips twitch. Then he rises, and my breath catches gently when, amber eyes burning into mine, he holds out his hand.

Staring up at him, I swallow softly. Then I slowly push myself to my feet and reach out.

Warm, rough skin glides against mine when I slip my palm into Azriel's. Long, calloused fingers wrap around my hand, their grip firm but strangely gentle, and my heart leaps into my throat when Azriel shakes my hand, his eyes piercing mine.

I blink. Then I slowly slip my hand out of his and grin, softly and cheekily.

"Well, now that we've settled this - I'm calling it a night." I hesitate, my eyes flickering over his face. "Are you…"

Shadows curl around Azriel's wings when he returns my stare steadily. Then he nods lightly. "I'm staying."

My heart leaps gently against my ribs.

Azriel blinks, and one of his dark eyebrows twitches. "Mor would get suspicious if I slept at the Townhouse." His gaze pierces mine, and his deep voice is slow when he adds: "Besides. To make this believable, I have to smell like you."

Something catches gently in my throat.

For a moment, we stare at each other. The spots in Azriel's eyes are shifting like stars through the sky. His shadows whisper gently against the floorboards. Then I blink and send him a soft, cheeky smile and turn around.

When I reach the doorway to the bedroom, I hesitate. Then I exhale and look over my shoulder, grinning softly even as something plucks at my heart.

 “You must think I’m an idiot.”

Azriel's eyes rise to meet mine.

For a second, we stare at each other. His iris is glowing softly in the warm light. Then he blinks, and his slow, rough voice brushes down my spine. “I don’t.”

Something swells gently against my ribs.

Azriel raises a brow.

“I mean, I do. Sometimes." His eyes pierce mine. Then the corner of his lips curves, just barely. "When you decide to just kiss somebody without actually looking at them and then rope them into pretending you’re seeing each other for example –“

My heart leaps into my throat, and my lips part incredulously.

“You offered that!”

Azriel stares at me, and slowly, the ghost of a smirk forms on his lips.

Something swells in my throat until it feels hard to breathe.

“I hate you.” My mumble is soft and grouchy. But the thrum of my heart betrays me.

Azriel's eyes are twinkling in the light as they pierce mine. Then he blinks and bows his head lightly. "Goodnight."

My breath hitches gently. Then I nod back gently.

"Goodnight."

♡

It takes me hours to fall asleep.

The knowledge that Azriel is in my flat, my small, chaotic home, makes what happened tonight real.

But somewhere between the slow, strange realisation that I don't feel half as nervous as I probably should and the sky slowly turning a lighter shade of blue, I finally drift away.

When I wake up, the sun tickles my face and the flat is quiet.

For a moment, I just bury deeper into my blanket, blinking tiredly. I can hear the gentle buzz of the city from outside my window, soft voices streaming up from the cafe in the cobblestone alley below. A gentle breeze shifts the thin curtains, brushing over my skin.

I lay still for a while longer, feeling the drowsy feeling of sleep slowly leaving my limbs and the soft weight of the sheets wrapped around my body. Then, rubbing my eyes, I slowly sit up and slide off the mattress.

My bare feet are almost soundless on the wooden floorboards when I pad over to the door, stretching lightly.

Opening it, I raise my head, and my breath catches.

Azriel is leaning against the counter. Sunlight is streaming through the window, turning his eyes into liquid gold and shining through the thin membranes of his wings. His brows are crunched lightly against the gentle glow.

He's not wearing a shirt.

Suddenly, something is thrumming under my ribs.

Azriel turns his head, and shadows whisper softly against his wings.

I didn't think he would stay.

For a quiet moment, we look at each other from across the room, like the last bits of night are slowly washing away and what we are left with is the deal we struck in the middle of the night over the coffee table.

It feels less tense than I imagined. Calmer. More steady.

I blink. Then I smile, soft and careful.

"Hey."

Azriel's eyes pierce mine. Then he slowly slides a steaming cup over the counter.

His iris looks like amber from this angle.

A slow exhale leaves me, and I feel my shoulders sink when I send him a soft, cheeky grin.

"The service."

The ghost of a crease forms in Azriel's cheek, and his eyes drag over my face.

Rubbing my eyes, I start to make my way over into the kitchen. Azriel watches me get closer. His shoulders shift, tattoos rippling gently. He looks calm, relaxed.

Like somehow, he fits into the small embrace of my home, in with the worn floorboards and the old couch and the little corner of a kitchen.

I decide not to mull on that last thought.

With a sigh, I pull myself up onto the smooth wooden counter, rubbing my eyes softly before picking up the cup. The scent of herbs rises into my nose, and my lids flutter gently when I breathe it in softly.

Silence settles over the kitchen. I don't know if I'm simply still too tired to care, but it feels warm and comfortable, like the sunlight falling onto the floorboards.

Azriel is blinking into the warm rays. The golden sheen causes his skin to glow and dips his eyes into amber. A dark strand of hair is curving over his forehead.

Fighting the strange sudden urge to brush it back, I wrap my fingers around the warm cup and blink sleepily. Shadows whisper, soft and gentle, lapping at the floorboards.

After a few sips of tea, my body starts to wake.

Leaning my temple against the cabinet, I hesitate, my eyes on the side of Azriel's face. Then I start softly: "Are you still -"

His head turns, and I lose my thread of thought for a breath when his golden eyes meet mine. There are dark spots dancing in his iris.

I blink before mumbling gently: "Are we still doing this?"

Azriel's gaze pierces mine, steady and unreadable. Then his deep voice brushes over my skin, low and calm.

"Have you changed your mind?"

I shake my head softly from side to side.

The shadowsinger dips his head lightly, and one of his brows rises. "Then we're doing this."

I exhale and nod, my shoulders straightening gently.

"Alright."

Azriel's gaze pierces mine, and the dark spots in his iris shift, strangely akin to a twinkle.

A rapid, loud knock against the front door makes me jump, nearly spilling my tea.

"What the -"

The door flies open before I can even finish my sentence, and a tall blonde figure sweeps over the threshold.

"I cannot believe you -"

My heart leaps high.

Mor's gaze finds mine. She stops abruptly, and my breath gets stuck in my throat.

For a second, the Blonde looks stunned. Her lips are parted lightly, brows raised. Her gaze slowly drags back and forth between me and the male beside me.

Azriel's eyebrows quirks.

Quickly, I slide off the counter. My feet hit the ground, and Mor slowly blinks.

"Alright… Finding both of you here is admittedly not what I expected, though, looking back, an obvious assumption… but at least this way I don't have to have this conversation twice." She clears her throat and straightens, raising her brows. "What do you two have to say for yourselves?"

I blink and swallow. Then I smile sheepishly. "Tea?"

Mor narrows her eyes.

"Nice try. I might come back to that in a second. Now spill it. What is this, why don't I know about it, how long has this been going on?!"

My heart leaps against my throat, and my mind blanks.

Brilliant.

All this talk yesterday and we really forgot the simple point of coming up with a story.

Bollocks.

Somewhere behind me, Azriel huffs.

"It's none of your business." His deep voice sounds lazy and a little dry.

Mor crunches her brows like he's just made the most preposterous statement and snorts.

"I'm both of your best friend. Of course it is my business!"

My shoulders stiffen.

We really should have thought about this. This is bad. This is really, really -

There's a shift in the air behind me. Then something brushes against my shoulder.

Shadows whisper against my ankles, and my breath catches when a rough palm presses against my lower back in a featherlight, steadying touch for nothing but a second.

Mor's eyes narrow in. I feel myself sink back almost instinctively, into the towering presence behind me, trying to suppress the urge to wince as I wait for her to call our bluff -

I don't know what Mor sees. But the Blonde exhales and rolls her eyes dramatically.

"Fine... Just tell me how it happened!" Her eyes find mine again, starting to twinkle, and my heart tumbles against my ribs.

"I don't know." I lightly raise my shoulders, smiling weakly. "It just - did."

Well, at least that's not a lie.

Mor huffs and crosses her arms. But her lips curve slowly, and I risk a quick glance over my shoulder.

My heart leaps into my throat.

Azriel is so close that his chest lightly brushes against my shoulder. His wings are looming, relaxed against his back, his hand resting on the counter behind me, just close enough I can feel the tips of his fingers graze my hip.

It's not flashy. No show of closeness.

He's just there. Towering over me, quiet, calm. Steadying. Like it's natural for him to be right where he is now, close enough that I can feel his breath against my hair and his presence in my back.

It feels real.

Blinking, I tear my eyes away again and meet Mor's. She's still staring at us, her eyes narrowed. But that strange twinkle is slowly spreading through her iris. Then she huffs.

"Fine. Be secretive." Her voice sounds almost grudgingly amused when she adds in a mumble: "It suits you."

Azriel's lips twitch.

Exhaling dramatically, Mor raises her hands. "Alright, I won't ask." Her eyes are twinkling with mischief when they meet mine. "But you owe me breakfast for not telling me."

Something like relief swells under my ribs, and I exhale. "Fair."

Mor beams.

"Well, then; get dressed, I'm not taking you out like this!" She raises her brows at Azriel. "I'd say you're welcome to join, but knowing you, you've got somewhere to be."

I look up over my shoulder, and Azriel looks down at me. His eyes are piercing, steady.

My heart leaps gently at the silent question in his gaze, and I send him a soft nod.

Azriel's lips curve just the slightest bit. Then he says, gaze never leaving mine: "Rhys is waiting for me."

I blink, feeling my brows crunch gently when my gaze flickers over his face.

Somewhere at the back of my mind, I wonder if it's the truth. And if it is - why he stuck around instead of leaving.

Mor pointedly clears her throat.

My heart leaps against my ribs, and quickly, I tear my eyes away from Azriel's.

The Blonde grins, then she raises her brows at the Spymaster. "Alright, well, off you go then."

The shadowsinger huffs, then he pushes off the counter, and my breath catches when his chest presses lightly against my shoulder.

"I'll see you later." His deep voice brushes over my skin, low and quiet like the words are meant to seem only for me. My eyes rise to meet his, and Azriel's gaze pierces mine, calm and steady.

Something swells gently against my ribs, and I nod lightly.

Rough skin brushes my hand. My breath catches in my throat, and for just a heartbeat, Azriel's scarred fingers slide between mine, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. Then his hand slips away, and he is swallowed by shadows.

part I part II

@azrielshadows1nger @waytoomanyteenagefeels @secretlyhers

@icey--stars @ailyr92 @xadenswhore

@sttvrdustt @thalia-as-blog @navyblue-eternity

@florencemtrash @kksbookstuff @messageforthesmallestman

@myfatbottomedgirls @laurenslover864 @xinsonyax

@fxckmiup @bestlessonslearnt @balufy

@sheblogs @i-am-infinite @wickedshadowsinger

@gretavankleep37 @extro2603 @thelov3lybookworm

@brekkershadowsinger @hoeforthefictional @historygeekqueen

@a-court-of-milkandhoney @lilah-asteria

[thelov3lybookworm]

Teddy Bears

Summary: She... doesn't dislike him?

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 2186

Warnings: tiniest bit of angst? no angst? idk but it is kinda chaotic lolll i love it

A/n: based on this request 😋 @mellowmusings ily thank you for giving me this idea hehe I HOPE U LIKE IT POOKIE 🥹

also @potatoplace and @sapphicmsmarvel, dedicated to u two cus i love u lots ur the best 🥹

(also something funny to distract tato from cramps hehe)

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

If there was such a thing as Fae Going Mad List, Azriel was sure he’d be on the top of it.

He was not sure how to describe the feeling of helplessness that he had been feeling for quite some time now. Some days, it was barely a speck of awareness in the back of his mind. The others, he didn’t even want to leave his bed. It took sheer willpower, his shadow’s encouragement, Cassian’s constant nagging and the hope that maybe, that day would be the day Y/n finally gave him anything other than her signature condescending glare that she wore when it came to him that got him out of his pity party most days.

The fact that the person evoked such feelings in him did not care also gave him a bit of a reality check, enough to break out of the haze of self hatred.

Remember the plan.

Azriel glanced sideways at the little shadow that floated next to his ear as he climbed up the steps to the training ring, brows furrowed. Of course he remembered the plan. Or whatever half assed thoughts he called a plan, anyways.

Waking up, he had been filled with dread and determination, telling himself that enough was enough, today was the day that Y/n will have to tell him the reason she always had her nose turned up at him, as if she could not be bothered to look at him without contempt.

The training ring was mostly empty, as it usually was when the sun was high in the sky, except for two figures on the far end towards the edge. Cassian’s wings towered over the two, casting shade onto the smaller figure sat beside him.

Once again, the sight of the back that should have been proudly carrying her own set of wings stabbed a dagger of guilt into his heart, making Azriel wonder if he should even have the right to talk to her.

After all, it had been his fault she had lost her wings.

It was well known that after a female became eighteen years of age, her wings had to be cut off. Knowing the traditions, Rhysand had gathered Cassian and Azriel and decided that one of them had to be with her at all times of the day. She had been like a sister to Rhysand, and the only friend outside of each other, so the need to protect her was not questioned.

The day it had happened, Azriel had been on his resting day after a week of training. Back then, none of the three Illyrians were allowed to train on their rest days, or else the Lady of Night would have their arses.

Naturally, Azriel was supposed to follow Y/n around.

Of course, she didn’t want him to.

"Azriel, I am not a baby. You will leave me alone-"

"I won’t."

She huffed, pausing her angry march up the side of a hill she was trekking to get water from a nearby river. "You will."

Azriel glared right back. "It is my duty to Rhysand. I-"

"Fuck off!"

She had thrown a wooden bucket at him, fury radiating off of her, and it had infuriated Azriel, how she acted like she was oh so better than him. He knew she was, sure, but it maddened him all the same.

And in a bout of frustration, Azriel spread his wings as far as they would go, then beat them and flew off, back towards the house where he planned to spend his ‘rest’ day doing exactly that and not wasting precious time on someone who was too ungrateful to accept protection.

Deep in his heart, he had dreaded the future, somehow knowing he would live to regret his decision.

And he did. Regret and shame had become best buddies of the shadowsinger, following him around more closely than his shadows did. If only he had not listened to her, he could have saved those beautiful wings he wished he had the chance to cherish.

But thinking about his shortcomings and faults was not going to help him today, so he pushed those thoughts in the back of his mind, to be picked up and inspected later. For now he needed to focus.

What’s your problem with me?

Why do you not like me?

Why do you always fight with me?

How can I make it up to you?

Azriel repeated the words in his head as he marched towards the edge of the ring, pushing his shoulders back and lifting his wings. Eyes focused, fists clenched.

When he was almost upon the two, Y/n turned, lips parted as if mid-sentence. She stared at him, dissecting each part of him with just a glance. Disarming him with just a glance.

And all words flew out of Azriel’s head. The only that remained were extremely unhelpful.

She’s beautiful.

No, what was it?

How’s your problem with me?

"Hey, Az."

Azriel blinked, nodding at Cassian, not missing the sight of the smirk on his brother’s face as he stood. Cassian ignored the lack of words from Azriel and walked closer, clapping him on the shoulder and leaning in to whisper. "Lover boy finally got balls?"

Azriel shot him a sharp glare, pulling his shadows closer to himself. "Shut up."

Cassian grinned lazily, lifting his hands placatingly before walking off, whistling an infuriating tune.

The same one Azriel had mentioned reminded him of Y/n.

Asshole.

Azriel watched Cassian disappear through the archway into the dim interior of the starwell, swallowing, before turning back to Y/n, who was drawing her legs back up over the edge, beginning to stand.

Those thighs-

"Wait-" She paused, glancing at him. Azriel swallowed, feeling his stomach flip and trying his best to ignore it as he moved closer to Y/n. "I wanted to talk."

"To me?" She mumbled, brows raised. Her voice did things to him, as it always did, but the surprise in her voice distracted Azriel.

"Well, do you see anyone else here?"

She scowled, lowering her legs back down and letting them swing. "I have no obligation to listen to you, you know. Being nice would do you a favour."

Azriel sighed, settling down next to her, faintly noting how the sun was hitting her back, making her hair look a shade lighter. He also noted the way she was squinting to see, peering up at him.

That wouldn’t do.

He spread his wings, lifting them slightly until she was sitting in their shadow. He did not miss the quick glance she shot behind her, nor did he miss the slight widening of her eyes and faint blush on her cheeks.

That could be from sitting in the sun too long,but Azriel liked to think the reason for her blushing was him.

"I’m sorry."

She hummed, turning her head to stare down at the city. "What did you want to say?"

"I…" he paused wondering how to go about this, then decided it would be best to get straight to the point, seeing as Y/n herself had mentioned, she had no obligation to listen to him and could very well walk away if he beat around the bush. "I just wanted to know why you dislike me so much."

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I’d like to know and maybe apologise. I’m tired of this- this cat and mouse chase."

She snorted. "What’s the point in apologising if you have to ask me about the mistake you made?"

Azriel looked down at his lap, chagrined as much as he was frustrated. "I cannot remember what I did, I am sorry. Please tell me?"

Surprise flickered over Y/n’s beautiful features before she straightened, clearing her throat. "Oh, um… you said please."

Azriel raised a brow. "And?"

"I didn’t think you would, this is a surprise."

Immediately, Azriel felt his lips turn down at the corners. "You’re so funny."

She smiled coyly, the fire in her eyes was at complete odds with it. "Do you or do you not-"

"Fine, fine. I’m sorry."

She huffed, shaking her head. "Now you’ve annoyed me and I don’t want to tell you."

Frustration bubbled over, and Azriel pushed to his feet, glaring at her when she tilted her head back, confused. "Have a good day, Y/n."

He turned away, knowing he should stay and let her bully him to her heart’s content, but telling her, again and again, how he wanted to repent and make things up to her, being vulnerable enough to let her take jabs at him and not fight back was unfamiliar. It made unease crawl under his skin.

It made him worry that if he let his mask drop enough to make her comfortable talking about what had bothered her, she’d see how weak, how pathetic he was and be disgusted.

Maybe this whole plan was useless, pathetic.

"Az- wait!" He paused, glancing back at her. "I’m sorry, I went too far."

Azrie ducked his head in a shallow nod, looking away from her.

"You were trying to make things right and I- I’m sorry."

Azriel shook his head. "It’s fine. You have the right to-"

"That’s right! I do." Brows raised, Azriel turned back to her, surprised at the sudden change in her tone. "You did the worst thing ever to me and never apologised. I have the right to be angry."

Azriel swallowed, nodding. "I shouldn’t have left that day. I should have apologised and begged for forgiveness sooner."

When she didn’t say anything Azriel lifted his head, scared of her reaction. But she simply stared at him, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you talking about? Shouldn’t have left where? When?"

"Your wings? This is about that, no?"

Her eyes widened, lips parting. "Oh my- mother, no! Not at all, no, Azrie! Why would I ever- you dumb male, I would never hold something like that over you!"

Azriel swallowed again, unable to look away from her. "Then- why not? If I hadn’t left, you wouldn’t have lost them-"

"And maybe I would have lost something more precious. Everything happens for a reason. Maybe if I hadn’t lost my wings that day, Rhys wouldn’t have made rules to ban wing clipping his priority. I do not care about that. I am not mad about that. What I am mad about is far more important than that."

Azriel blinked, shifting on his legs. "Oh… then what made you dislike me, if not that?"

She rolled her eyes before poking him in the chest. "You fucking stole my teddy bear and pushed me after you did."

Azriel blinked, then blinked again. "I- what?"

"And you still haven’t given it back to me."

Azrie’s lips parted, then closed, then opened again. At this point, he was trying to remember if someone had mixed up some sort of drug in his food, because what in the hell?

"I- I don’t remember."

She huffed, wrapping her arms around herself. It took all of Azriel’s willpower to not look. "Of course you don’t remember, asshole. I was playing with my toy, and you snatched it from me, and when I fell, you didn’t even help me up."

Azriel stared at her, incredulity dripping from his voice as he tried to hold in a snort but failed. "Y/n, are you being serious?"

She scowled, pushing him back. "Stop laughing. I am being serious."

"I’m not laughing!" Despite the words, Azriel’s lips twitched, lifting.

She huffed, turning away. Azrel instantly felt bad, so he lunged to grab her hand, tugging lightly.

"Sorry, sorry. I will get you that teddy back, yeah?"

Y/n peered at him, frown still in place. "What if you don’t?"

"I will."

The burn of a mark made Azriel wince, making him pull back the lapels of his shirt. There, over his left pectoral, was a small mark in the shape of a bear. Just amazing.

"Hmm. I believe you, then."

Azriel refrained from rolling his eyes, feeling himself break out in a fond smile. "So am I forgiven?"

"Give me a reason to forgive you."

"I’ll get you three new teddy bears."

Her eyes lit up. "Really?"

He nodded dutifully, placing a hand over his heart. "Really."

She smiled then, the sight ethereal, almost otherworldly in its beauty. Azriel couldn’t help but stare at her lips. They were so- so beautiful, mesmerising, he wanted to-

No. Stop.

He forced himself to look up into her eyes, his focus finally shifting to his rapidly beating heart. He could almost win a racing competition, he was sure.

Y/n smirked at him, a knowing look in her eyes before she turned, heading to the stairwell, and this time, Azriel said nothing, just watched her go.

Right before she disappeared through the archway, though, she paused, glancing back. "By the way, I never disliked you. It was just funny seeing you squirm. See you later, shadowsinger!"

Azriel blinked. So all that… effort, for nothing?

She’s funny.

A shadow whispered.

Mother help me.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[nightcourtnovels]

Little Matchmaker

Azriel x reader (part 4.5)

Summary: reader gets a birthday gift and her friend can’t help but push her to go big or go home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was dreaming.

She knew it even as she felt the soft weight of a blanket draped over her bare shoulders, Azriel’s callused fingers brushed her cheek, just as his arm curled tighter around her waist. They were still wet from the pool, skin warm and tangled beneath one of her spare blankets. The sun was rising above her balcony doors, the city waking while they started to rest. His voice, low and scratchy, murmured something against her hair.

“Stay,” she whispered.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised.

But he always did…

~

Y/N blinked awake as the sun crept through her curtains due to the blowing wind. Her bed was cold, and empty, and her heart gave a small, traitorous ache.

She groaned, covering her face with a pillow.

“Snap out of it,” she muttered to herself.

Today was her birthday. But, she had scrolls to read, enchantments to translate, and the library wouldn’t run itself. Just because she’d spent the last few nights dreaming of Azriel’s smile or the way his fingers lingered a little too long on her back, or the kiss he left her with that still made her stomach flip, didn’t mean she had time to daydream today.

The date was two weeks ago, but it still felt like yesterday. She really needed to stop thinking about it; they lived completely different lives and it was only a one time thing.

Yet, she couldn’t help but remember how beautiful the night was, no male had ever treated her like he did.

With a sigh, Y/N got ready for work.

~

The library was quiet as always, the scent of old paper and ink calming her nerves. She’d settled into a rhythm, nose deep in a scroll on ancient Day Court magic, when someone cleared their throat beside her desk.

She looked up to see a young messenger, wide-eyed and clearly in awe of the massive collection around him.

“Delivery,” he said, holding out a wrapped box and a bouquet of various white flowers speckled with silver.

Y/N blinked, stunned. “Uh… for me?”

He nodded, handed them over, and quickly scurried away.

She stared at the package and bouquet wondering if the messenger perhaps got the wrong female.

No one sent her gifts. Especially not ones wrapped in delicate paper and tied with navy ribbon. Her fingers trembled slightly as she pulled the small envelope off the flowers.

In neat, precise handwriting, she read:

Happy 250th, Bright One.

For someone who claims no one would want her at this age, I thought I’d take the chance before the line forms. I haven’t forgotten that you owe me a book recommendation.

— A.

She stared at the note, cheeks warming so fast it felt like she’d swallowed sunlight.

“Oh goodness,” came her friend Selene’s voice from behind. “Who are those from?”

“Ummm no one.”

Giggling, Selene reached around her in a flash and snatched the card from her hand.

“Oooooohhhhhhh,” she sung. “Definitely not a one-time thing, then.”

“It’s not like that,” Y/N said quickly, her blush deepening. “He’s just being—nice.”

“Nice? You can’t find these flowers everywhere, babe.” Selene said.

Her friend then stared at the box in wonder. “You should definitely open the box.”

“What do you think it is?” Y/N asked.

“Probably a dagger, he seems to like those things.”

Y/N squawked, “A dagger?? Are you insane? Why would he give me one of those?”

Selene chuckled, “Umm, so you can defend yourself while he’s not here to be your knight in shining armor?”

Trying to believe her own words, Selene playfully practiced her fighting moves with a nonexistent dagger. “Yeah definitely that!”

Y/N shook her head. “As much as I love how your brain works, it can’t be dagger. There’s no way.”

Her friend only raised her brows and pointed to the box. Sighing, Y/N tentatively unwrapped the present.

Inside, nestled in black velvet, sat a delicate necklace with a deep blue stone and matching earrings, shaped like falling stars. Ethereal. Night Court craftsmanship, undoubtedly.

The two of them sat in silence for a minute. Selene wasn’t sure if Y/N was breathing.

“Sweet Mother,” Selene breathed. “These are gorgeous. How will you ever thank him? Since, you know, it was just a ‘one-time thing’.”

Snapping out of her thoughts, Y/N reminded herself to breathe and rolled her eyes at her friend. “I don’t know. Maybe next time he’s in Day.”

“You are telling me that you’ll just thank him next time he’s here?”

“What am I supposed to do? Sprout wings and fly to the Night Court immediately?”

Selene giggled, “I mean it’s not a bad idea. That way you could thank him properly.” Wiggling her eyebrows for dramatic effect.

Y/N gasped, hitting her friend playfully. “Absolutely not. You are so vulgar. I would never do that.”

The two stared at each other before falling into a fit of laughter.

“Okay mayyybe. Perhaps if the appropriate moment, you know, happened to happen. I would gracefully get on my knees…”

Before Y/N could finish her sentence, Selene slapped a hand over Y/N’s mouth. “And you say I’m vulgar! Does he know about these naughty things you say!?!”

“Of course not, he thinks I’m a perfect angel,” Y/N smirked.

“Hmm then you must have not talked very much on that date because you my friend are far from an angel.”

Y/N mockingly gasped and gestured to the jewelry that seemed to sparkle as if they too couldn’t hold in their laughter. “Then explain these gifts!”

“Wellllll hear me out,” her friend drawled, wiggling her brows. “I think I have the perfect way to thank him. There is a thing called Starfall next week in the Night Court…”

“We can’t just invite ourselves!” Y/N protested. “He probably already has a date.”

“Why not? When’s the last time we’ve been on vacation? You’re working on your birthday. Come on Y/N. You’re in desperate need of a break. I’m in desperate need of a scandal. And you—” she pointed at her with a smirk, “—have been gifted jewelry and flowers by the shadowsinger of the Night Court. I can promise you, he doesn’t already have a date.”

Y/N glanced down at the necklace again, fingers ghosting over the silver chain. “We don’t have dresses. Or a place to stay.”

“Pfft,” her friend scoffed. “Leave that to me. Dresses, done. Place to stay—handled. Not that you need one, I’m sure the Shadowsinger has a big enough bed. All you need to do is pack your bag and maybe think about what book you’re going to show him next. You know, to repay him.”

Her mouth twitched. “You're relentless.”

“It's why you love me. And besides… tell me you don't want to see him again.”

She didn’t answer. Just glanced at the card again. The way his inked scrawl curved her nickname. The way the bouquet shimmered under the library’s lights.

After a long moment, Y/N murmured, “Okay. Fine. I guess it has been a while.”

Her friend squealed, clapping. “Starfall, here we come!”

Y/N tried to fight her smile. Really, she did. But it was hopeless. The glow from the flowers mirrored the glow in her chest as she turned back to her desk—her mind already drifting far, far from the scrolls in front of her.

To the stars.

To a Night Court male who remembered her birthday.

“Okay let’s do it!”

[azrielsdove]

Nothing but Hate: Azriel x Rhysand!Sister!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Smut, 18+, Slight Eris x Reader

***

You grinned wickedly at the male in front of you, a dagger held tight in each hand. His golden eyes flashed with warning, hands lit up blue. You circled each other slowly, each sizing up the other.

You moved first, flinging a dagger towards his stomach. A flash of blue met the blade, disintegrating it in front of your eyes. Your smile dropped from your face, and you threw the second one rashly. It missed, as you knew it would. You groaned, hands coming up to cover your eyes.

“You’re up here to train,” Azriel chided, “so why don’t you act like it?”

You dropped your hands and turned to glare at him. “Has it ever occurred to you I have more important things to do than this?”

He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Like what? Organizing your pretty little ball gowns? Polishing your countless tiaras?”

“I provide valuable intel to this Court,” you said, slowly looking him up and down. “Something you could learn a thing or two about.”

His eyes narrowed. “I do my job well. Your brother would not keep me employed if I didn’t. Or do you doubt the judgement of the High Lord?”

You gave a dramatic pout. “Oh, did I hurt your feelings? I care not what my brother does with you and that other brute. I was raised to gather information under the guise of a sweet, innocent lady.” You made a show of batting your eyes, lips in an exaggerated pout. “Males crumble far too easily.”

Rhys had been trying to get you and Azriel to get along for the better part of the last century. Something about him irked you to your bones. Cassian wasn’t much higher ranked in your mind, but you could at least tolerate him. You felt you would never know why your brother had latched on to these two idiots.

“You think rather highly of yourself, princess.” He spoke your title like it was an insult.

“I don’t see any great cause for why I should not,” you shot back, head high. You knew exactly what you were worth.

“Stuck-up brat.”

“You enjoy being my brothers bitch?”

Azriel opened his mouth to retort when he was cut off by a sharp yell.

“Enough!”

The two of you turned to see Rhys storming into the training ring. “I cannot think with you going at it like little children!”

“Well if he-“

“Rhys, she’s-“

“I said, ENOUGH.” Rhys stopped in front of you, hands coming to massage his temples. “You are being insufferable. I will not listen to your ceaseless bickering any longer. Figure out how to get along, or you will both be reassigned to the training camps.”

You and Azriel gave sounds of protest, quieted by Rhys holding up a hand. “I do not wish to hear it. I’m giving you one last chance. If you complete this mission without trouble I will allow you to yell at each other as much as you want. Otherwise, say goodbye to your nice little lives here.” He looked pointedly at the both of you. “Am I understood?”

You both grumbled your agreements, waiting to be given instruction. “Good. Now, I need you to go to Autumn. Beron is hosting a ball this coming week, and I need intel on what it is he’s doing. I do not trust the Vanserra’s, especially with Lucien’s recent departure.” He frowned deeply. “His father is a truly evil man. I want eyes on him.”

You and Azriel nodded, understanding the importance of this mission. Regardless of how you felt about each other, Rhys was right about the evil that runs the Autumn Court.

***

You stared at yourself in the mirror, a deep dread weighing down on you. You ran your hands over the front of your gown, watching the minuscule diamonds in the black fabric sparkle in the light. It was a stunning garment by all accounts, with the flowing skirts and romantic off-shoulder neckline. You looked every part the Night Court Princess, simply attending a ball as a Lady should.

Accompanied by…Azriel.

A knock at the door reminded you of his irritating presence. You walked over to open it, silver heels tapping on the ground.

“Are you-“ He began, stopping as he looked you over. You couldn’t help the smirk that made its way onto your face.

“Speechless, Shadowsinger?” You quipped, winking at him. That brought him back to reality and he rolled his eyes before begrudgingly holding an arm out for you to take.

“I would almost say you’re beautiful, but then you had to go and open that annoying little mouth of yours.” You pinched his arm under your hand, though you noted that the usual bite behind his words wasn’t all there.

This night was extremely important to the both of you. You had to figure out a way to work together. Neither one of you wished to go to the training camps, far away from your home. It sent a chill down your spine to recall the ways you were treated anytime you were at them, and you didn’t dare to think what it would be like if you were there alone. Truthfully, you were a little angry with Rhys for this level of threat. Was the punishment equal to the crime?

“Let’s just get this over with, Azriel.” You were looking forcibly ahead, otherwise you would have seen the worry that flitted over his face.

***

Evil as Beron was, he knew how to throw a party. The ballroom of the Autumn Court castle was dressed to the gods, golden elegance dripping from every inch. The male himself sat on an intricate wooden throne, a crown sat atop his head. His sons stood in a line next to him, each dressed in varying shades of orange and red. You carefully surveyed the room, putting on a show like you were admiring the decor.

Beron took note of you quickly, standing to loudly welcome you. “Princess! Come, let me introduce you to my sons.” You gave a shy smile and made your way over to him, playing the role Rhys had instructed you to. “Your brother tells me he is interested in a possible match between our Courts,” Beron continues, too loud for comfort. You knew the offer of your hand would go to his head. The elusive, dark, Night Court heiress betrothed to one of his sons? How could he resist?

You gave a small nod, glancing over at his sons lined up like prizes for you to select. “I am honored that you would deem me a good match for any of your sons, my lord.” You could almost feel the laugh Azriel held back at your demure tone.

Beron smiled widely, placing a hand on your back to lead you to the line of males. “Eris, my eldest and likely heir, would be your most advantageous match,” he drawled. Eris held his hand out for yours, placing a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“It is an honor to be considered by the Princess of Night.” His voice dripped with honey-like sweetness, a gleam in his eyes that drew you in. You couldn’t help the light blush that crossed your cheeks in his presence.

“The honor is all mine,” you said with a curtsy, biting your lip when you looked back up at him.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked, as gentlemanly as expected. You bowed your head in agreement before letting him lead you out to the dance floor.

A shadow swirled briefly around your ankles, a subtle sign from Azriel. As annoying as he was, you knew you could trust him to keep you from danger. You made a point to catch his eye over Eris’ shoulder, a silent gesture that you understood his message.

Eris placed one hand on your waist and held yours in the other, a proud smile on his face. You allowed yourself to be immersed in the music, following his every move like you’d spent hours practicing together.

“Have you been to this Court before?” He asked you, spinning in a circle. “You do not look familiar.”

You shook your head, giving him a small laugh. “My brother does not like it when I travel far without him.” A sweet, innocent answer.

“He does not trust you, then?”

“No, I would not say so. He simply…worries, doesn’t he?” You tilted your head in the direction of the other sons. “Do you not worry for your brothers?”

Something flickered in his eyes as he looked over, an unspoken pain. “Them? No.” He looked back at you. “Not those ones.” You understood what he was saying, the unspoken message behind his words. The brother he worried for was long gone, away in Spring. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, letting him know you understood.

Eris spun you out and pulled you in, your back hitting his chest as his arms wrapped around you. He bowed his head enough for his breath to tickle your neck, your body giving an answering shiver. “You’re not like the other High Court ladies,” he whispered in your ear, before spinning you back out and away.

You turned into him again, his hand coming back to its spot on your waist. “And you are not like other High Court lords,” you responded with a playful smile.

“How so?”

“Well, usually they hardly ever let me speak,” you laughed when you said it, playing it off like a joke.

“Hmm,” he said, the hand on your waist sliding to the small of your back as he pulled you in closer, “then they do not know the enjoyment they are missing.” 
The song had ended, the two of you left standing there improperly close. You were lost in his eyes, in the secrets he held in them. He leaned down and for half a second you believed he was going to kiss you.

And you were going to let him.

Instead he moved to whisper, “Would you like to see something special?” You nodded, and allowed him to lead you off the dance floor and out of the ballroom. A small voice in the back of your mind warned you that running off with a male you did not know was not the safest choice, but Eris made you feel safe. You could only hope his actions matched his words.

You were pleasantly surprised when he lead you to a library, books up to the ceiling. Everything was made of dark wood, shelves as if the trees simply grew that way. A roaring fire warmed the room, the smell of cinnamon and old parchment welcoming. “Oh, Eris,” you said in awe, “it is beautiful.”

He came up behind you as you stood in the center of the room, lost in the beauty around you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, hand splayed flat over your stomach, the other resting on your arm. He bent his head again, lips millimeters from the bare skin of your shoulder. You couldn’t help the way you leaned into him, the mission you were on long forgotten.

“I thought you might enjoy this,” he hummed, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder. “Not many care to come here. My father especially.” You felt the angry twitch in his fingers at the reminder of his father. You turned your head to look up at him, recognizing the longing in his expression.

“I am sorry,” you began, “about Lucien. I imagine that has been hard on you. Being forced to pretend you do not care.” He stayed quiet, looking at you with an intensity you had never experienced. Like it was the first time anyone had seen him.

“You are not what I thought you would be,” he whispered, before leaning down and capturing your lips with his. He kissed you with the passion of a thousand suns, his mouth moving with yours in their own dance. You turned in his arms to press your chest flush against his, your arms twining around his neck as you pulled him closer. Eris groaned at your touch, one hand coming to tangle its way into the hair at the back of your head.

He started moving the two of you until your back hit one of the bookshelves, never breaking the kiss. Tongues created art as the two of you lost yourselves in each other. “Eris,” you moaned when he moved his lips off yours, instead running them up and down the skin of your neck. He growled in response, one hand slowly gathering the skirts of your dress. Your breath was coming in fast spurts, his teeth dragging along your skin making you forget everything you were supposed to be doing.

“Say my name like that again,” he murmured against your skin, your skirts up high enough that he could slide one hand onto your thigh.

You opened your mouth to oblige when he was suddenly ripped off of you, the stark coldness of reality washing over you. You were stunned, still panting against the bookshelf as you took in the scene in front of you.

Eris was thrown backwards, slumped against the shelf across from you. You started to rush towards his unconscious form, concerned for him. You knelt by his side, gently laying his limp body all the way down as you looked over him for any serious injuries.

“Oh, give it up,” came an angry voice, and you shot your head towards Azriel.

“What is your problem?” You yelled, standing once you ensured Eris was otherwise okay.

“My problem? My problem? Maybe it’s the fact that we were sent here on a job, and you are too busy whoring yourself out to care!” He was glaring at you, shadows swirling angrily around him.

“You’d better rethink your words, Shadowsinger,” you warned, dark lightning flickering at your fingertips.

“Relax, princess. Rhys is calling us back.” He looked over at Eris on the ground. “Sorry to interrupt your little…moment,” he said, sounding not very sorry at all. You looked sadly back at Eris, worry still creeping in your mind. Azriel noticed, rolling his eyes. “He’ll be fine. We will not be if we do not go,” he emphasized, grabbing on to your arm.

“Fine.”

The two of you hastily winnowed back home, Azriel flying once your powers grew weary. You did not inherit the Illyrian wings from your mother, much to your dismay. Especially in this moment, in which you had to be in Azriel’s arms as he flew you high above the ground.

“What did you see in him?” He asked, breaking the chilly silence that had ensued since you left the Autumn Court.

“What?” You asked, shocked by his question.

“I mean, they’re evil, aren’t they? The Vanserras?”

You looked out over the night sky, quiet for a moment. “I believe some of them are. I believe Eris pretends to be.”

“I see,” Azriel mused. “But…why choose him?” You turned to look at him, puzzled.

“Azriel, are you jealous?” You teased, waiting for him to act disgusted.

Instead he remained silent, his arms tightening around you ever so slightly. You stared at him for a long time, processing the underlying meaning in his actions. “Az?”

He reacted then, looking at you sharply. You had never called him by that name. “I do not know what you mean,” he finally said.

The rest of the flight was done in silence.

You were thankful when you finally landed back at the House of Wind, the marble under your shoes a welcome feeling. A cool nights breeze blew through the balcony as you turned to Azriel.

“Well, thank you for not abandoning me in the Autumn Court,” you joked, trying for a smile.

His expression stayed stoic. “I would never have left you.”

You blinked at the intensity of his words. It was then that you noticed how closely he was standing to you, how he was looking at you. It was rather similar to the way Eris had looked before he had…

You backed away abruptly, stumbling slightly in your heels. Azriel caught you smoothly around the waist, hand burning you through the fabric of your dress.

“Azriel,” you whispered, “Rhys did not call us back, did he?”

“No.”

“Ah.” Your body was trembling in his grasp, a barrier dangerously close to being crossed as he tugged you flush against him, his nose tracing the slope of your neck. “Then why did you say he did?”

His hands fisted the material beneath them as he inhaled your scent. “I couldn’t stand it.”

You hated the way you were reacting to him, the fire coursing through you. It was entirely different than the way you had felt with Eris. This was more. Much more. You took a shaky breath before asking the question you already knew the answer to.

“Couldn’t stand what?”

Azriel brought his head up, eyes boring into yours. A century of untold feelings swam behind them. “I couldn’t watch him touch you any longer,” he began, one hand coming up to caress your throat. “It was driving me crazy. His lips on your skin, his hands on you.” His thumb rolled across your pressure point, pressing down ever so slightly. An embarrassingly needy noise fell from your lips. “Gods,” he breathed, pressing a kiss to your jawline. “I’ve held back for so long. Forcing my feelings down,” he started kissing down your throat, down your shoulder. Following the same path Eris had left a mere few hours before. “I chose to become your enemy instead, someone you couldn’t stand,” he bit down on your shoulder, dragging a soft moan from you as his tongue soothed the marks his teeth left. “But watching him touch you? The way I should be? No,” he laughed cruelly, dropping to his knees in front of you. You looked down at him in shock, heart racing at the hunger in his eyes. “I couldn’t let him have you.”

You reached behind you for the railing of the balcony, grasping onto it like it was your lifeline. “Azriel,” you whispered, watching him lift the bottom of your skirts. He kissed your bare ankle, eyes catching yours once more.

“Tell me to stop, and I will.”

Yet the both of you knew you weren’t going to. His lips continued their transgressions up your leg, painfully slow. He was leaving dark marks in his wake, a reminder that he was there. Your hand twisted in his hair when he reached the top of your thigh, leaving one final mark for you to see in the morning. “Az,” you gasped, feeling as though you were going to erupt into flame at any moment. “Please.”

He smiled wickedly at you, tearing your underwear off of you a moment later. You gave a small shriek at the action, eyes wide as you looked at the torn garment. He allowed you no chance to comment, his mouth on you before you even knew what to say.

“Oh,” you moaned, head falling backwards. His tongue swirled around you like you were the most delicious desert he had ever tasted. He sucked onto your clit, ripping a loud cry of his name from you. You were lost in the haze of lust and pleasure, all the years of anger and hate gone as if they never existed.

He continued the sins he was committing with his tongue while his fingers ran up to join. You moaned his name again and again as one pushed inside of you, curling in the exact spot you needed it to. Cool shadows swirled around your burning skin, a sensation so intense you weren’t sure you could handle it. He added a second finger, stretching you pleasurably. “Azriel, I, oh, Az,” you gasped out, unable to form coherent thought. He kept his movements steady as one shadow wrapped around your throat, squeezing just enough for you to moan again.

Eris was long gone from your mind.

Azriel continued working you, clearly pleased by the increasing volume and intensity in which you were saying his name. You knew you were close, forcing your orgasm at bay as long as possible. You wanted to live in this moment forever. He touched you like he had studied you for years, like he knew exactly what would make you tick. In his hands you were nothing but clay for him to mold, creating the beautiful sculpture that was this moment. Your body began to shake as he kept steady, thrusting his fingers in and out of you while humming against your clit.

That was all you needed to explode against him.

Your fingers tightened in his hair, your head thrown all the back, mouth open in a silent scream. Stars exploded behind your eyes, the sensation of your orgasm rolling through you. Azriel pushed you through it, prolonging the feeling as long as possible. He didn’t cease his actions until you were gasping for air, his name falling from your lips like a beautiful song. Only then did he slowly pull away from your wrecked body, standing to hold you steady.

One hand came to gently cup your face, thumb running lovingly over your cheek. “How long?” You asked, leaning into his touch.

“Since the first day I met you.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Then why lie? Why battle me for so long?”

He looked guilty, moving to rest his forehead on yours. “You are his sister. I was scared.” He took a shuddering breath. “It was too risky. You were off limits, you see. He had explicitly told Cassian and I to not even think about it,” he gave a humorless laugh. “Being around you was overwhelming. Everything in me was screaming for you. I had originally decided to just be friends, that I would settle for that.” The arm around your waist tightened. “But even that was too much. I needed you, and the longer I went without you the more i began to lose it.” His eyes turned sad. “I had to push you away.”

You shook your head, tears pricking at your eyes. “Sometimes I hate my brother,” you whispered, a century long confession on the tip of your tongue. “For it has been the same for me all these years. So long, in fact, I forgot why I started to dislike you in the first place.” With that, you closed the remaining space between you, pressing your lips to his.

A hundred years of lost emotion poured from the both of you, holding on to each other like you may disappear. You kissed Azriel like this was the only chance you had, allowing him to open your mouth with his.

Passion flowed between the two of you, the taste of yourself on his tongue reigniting the fire under your skin. He whispered your name over and over against your lips, like a prayer he had been longing to say. In that moment the two of you were the only ones who existed.

“Well, this is most certainly not what I meant when I said I wanted you to get along.”

Your eyes shot open as you pulled your lips from Azriel’s, looking widely at your rather angry brother. “I, uh, hello, Rhys,” you stuttered, taking a step away from Azriel. Who, in fact, was having none of that, and immediately pulled your lips from back into his arms.

“Rhysand,” he said coolly.

“I would be careful with your tone if I were you, Azriel,” Rhys warned, anger simmering in him. “That is my sister.”

Azriel simply tightened his hold on you, capturing your lips in another kiss. “So she is.” He looked back at your brother. “Yet she is also my mate.”

Mate. Mate?

No.

Surely you didn’t spend a century warring with your fated mate, because your brother was too much of a hard ass to allow you to make your own choices?

No.

It couldn’t be.

And yet, at his declaration, you felt it in your soul. The golden bond tying the two of you together.

You glared at Rhysand.

“Brother, you and I will speak tomorrow.” Azriel leaned his head down to press a kiss against your neck, mumbling “or in a week.” You swatted him away, ignoring the laugh he let out. “But for now, you will go. I do not care where, but you will leave us be. Do you understand?”

Rhys stared at you in disbelief, not used to having someone else boss him around. “Well, I, but,” he spluttered, looking around the balcony as if for someone to save him. “You’re my sister!”

You gave him an exaggerated nod, speaking slowly. “Yes. I am. I am also fully grown and capable of making my own choices. Now, I suggest you leave.” Azriel happily began peppering kisses over your skin again. “Immediately.”

***

AHHHHHHH i absolutely LOVED writing this. happy 2025 friends. i hope you enjoyed <3

[reverie-verse]

Azriel x Reader: The Bond of a Century

An old request that I decided to revamp

Request prompt: Can I request an Azriel x reader where the mating bond snaps for Azriel but not the reader? Kind of like how Feyra didn’t know Rhys was her mate till she was told.

My prompt: A bond forgotten for over a century and a half makes its way back to the forefront. All of it starts with Rhys asking for a favor.

This is a fluffy, steamy, angst-ish fic

I hope you enjoy!!!! My requests are open!!!

____________________________

This was the last thing you thought you would be doing for Rhys. Out of all the things, this-this is what he chose for you to do. Rhys had a sick twisted mind that put you in a situation you had no desire of being in or a part of. You mentally cursed at the high lord, hating him in the moment even though he was your dearest friend. Elain scoured the city for certain pots for her plants, and certain seeds for her garden. Azriel right by her side and you trailing behind them. All you wanted to do was to go back to your home near the docks. It was the first home you had when you first moved from Dawn to Velaris less than a century ago, but with some convincing Rhys and Feyre were able to get you to stay at the town house. It was only then did her sisters arrive, and at some point you were put to the task of keeping an eye on Elain with the occasional visit of Az. Honestly you wished you could train with Nesta, but Cassian was chosen for that task. You wouldn’t have minded living in the house of wind-“ I think I need to go to Day Court or maybe Spring, Oh perhaps we can go to Dawn instead. They must have better pots.” Elain speaks more to Azriel than she does you. You were eyeing the various shops, and the people delighted to be around you, each grinning and waving at you. Another beautiful thing about Velaris you’d come to love. People were kind here.

Azriel smiled softly at her “ Of course, if that’s what you want” his voice was tender and sweet. You fought the urge to roll your eyes, turning your attention elsewhere. You hated being there dealing with this shit, but Rhys insisted you tag along, “It’s good for the soul. Get some fresh air” with that insane cat-like smirk. Ooo you shoot daggers into your mind, a deep chuckle echoing in the background.

“ Yes that’s what I want, thank you Az” Elain returned the gesture.

“ Alright then I’ll let Rhys and Feyre know-“ You say as you pinched a flower petal between your thumb and index finger. You looked away from it then back at them. The two watched you with curiosity, you let go of the petal. It was no simple task, an easy reminder of what you needed to do and a simple approval came from Rhys. A gentle poke in your mind causes you to shake your head.“-Let's get this over with” You take steps towards them placing your hands on their arms you effortlessly winnow the three of you to Dawn. The landing was gentle and less sickening, the three of you placed in a Market, one that you were familiar with.. Elain squealed with excitement as she rushed over to an area where she had seen fresh flowers, a few shops down could be seen a pottery shop, the two of you already trailing her.

“ Look at this beautiful bouquet! Y/N? Should we get this for the town house?” She gestures to the bouquet filled with many vibrant colors, various shapes and sizes. You were stumped, she normally doesn’t ask you these questions most of the time they were directed at Az.

“They look lovely Elain, I’m sure they’ll fit anywhere you put them..” You replied not really sure how to respond. Honestly you’ve never really thought about what flowers you liked or didn’t . It wasn’t something that was ever given to you, nor something you found and immediately fell in love with. You didn’t have anything against anyone who knew what they liked, you just-never had the experience of looking forward to your own set of plants. Even when you first attempted gardening most of your plants and flowers died, you simply didn’t have the skill or the eye for it..but that was okay, though on rare occasions it was something you wished you had..

Elain smiles awkwardly “ Well, maybe we can get it, it might brighten up the home. Make it seem more natural..comfortable” She pulls out her coins, handing it to the shopkeeper. The three of you move further heading over to the pottery shop that she explained earlier how she wanted to visit. Your eyes searched the area, checking for predators, anyone who might cause harm to the high lady’s sister, before entering the shop. You had other plans that you needed to attend to while the two looked around, it was in the midst of Elains discussion, mostly to Azriel about the various styles of pottery, that you planned to sneak off. It was only then did a voice capture your attention from behind you.

“ Y/N, I must admit I never pegged as you someone who might be interested in pottery” Thesan, high lord of Dawn, speaks out, the entire shop haunting their work to bow at his presence. He waved his hand dismissing them easily back to work. Azriel positions himself so that he stands near you with Elain behind him, she peers her head out, trying to see who it was that spoke so elegantly. A small smile graces your features at that familiar voice you knew so well as you shifted to face Thesan, who was already grinning. Azriel didn’t miss it, taking note of it.

“What if I was?” You retorted,

“ Then that would be a surprise”

“I hate to burst your bubble High Lord but I’m here on business not for pleasure” You replied, the two of you sharing a small laugh together. Azriel forced his expression into neutrality, Elains eyes sparkled with curiosity and intrigue. Thesan looks behind you for a moment, taking in the Shadowsinger and the woman next to him.

“ Ouch, that one hurt Y/N, I see you brought friends, Shadowsinger” Thesan greets civilly no hate present.

“ Thesan,” Azriel gives a simple head nod in his direction, there was no need for malice, Thesan had always been a great friend of Rhys’s and now apparently yours. Though a feeling crept inside his chest, this odd feeling takes root, Azriel does his best to shove it away, especially with Elain right next to him..

“ And you must be Elain, one of the sisters of High Lady Night.”

“ Yes I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you” Elain smiles with a blush that creeps along her cheeks. She wasn’t sure how to respond being that a high lord, whom she never met knew she existed. The surrealness of the situation becomes a reality, the more she realizes how well known her sister is, how well known both of her sisters are including herself. A delighted yet astonishing experience for her, something she wasn’t used to yet.

“ Same to you, i hope you don’t mind if I borrow Y/N for a moment or two, there’s somethings I’d like to discuss” Thesan offered but secretly it was a meeting that needed to take place. You were in fact here on business, something that Rhys specifically shared with you and no one else. Dawn used to be your home, but when you were moved to Velaris, you became the seg way for Dawn and Night. Your job was to be the emissary for both sides, keeping the courts relationship in even better shape. You missed your home dearly at times, and you missed Thesan whom you were extremely close too, and who you cared about, even with this being only for business there was some pleasure that came out of it.

“ No of course not, I’m sure she could use a break from us, right Azriel?” Elain looks up to him but his eyes were trained on you and Thesan. You were ready to join him without so much as another word, it struck a nerve in him, why? What could possibly be the topic of conversation between you two? Why do you only need to speak with him? Surely Rhys would’ve told him what this meeting was about? Why hadn’t you come to him for advice or as a second set of ears? Why was the meeting a secret?-“Azriel?”Elain calls out to him, you were looking at him suspiciously, your eyebrows furrowed, your eyes flickering across every part of his face and bodily language. Azriel adjusts himself, shielding off whatever thoughts or feelings he harbored in the moment. He blinks, his eyes drift back to Elain then back to you and Thesan “ Go ahead, we’ll be here in the shop if you need us, we leave in about two hours”

“ Alright then I will have my men escort the two of you back to my palace.” Thesan replied, You eased the questioning look off your face, you shift back towards Thesan, the two of you walking out of the shop, the conversation immediately flowed. He could see the smile on your face, and yet again the melodic sound of laughter that left your lips. The high lords' guards remained in place while Azriel and Elain both continued their shopping. However, that didn’t stop him from taking one last look out the door.

When the two hours were up, Azriel and Elain were guided securely to the Palace where he’d find you and Thesan walking along the hall. Thesan stopped in his tracks grabbing your arm, it forces you to halt in place, your body halfway facing him. His mouth moves but Azriel can’t hear what he’s saying, he lifts a hand to your face gently swiping at your cheek. He removes his hand, pulling you gently into a tight embrace. Azriel could see the way you held onto him tightly, as if you dared to let go. The two of you stayed in that position for a few moments until you both eventually pulled away. Why were you crying? Were you hurting? Were they happy tears? Did he say something to you? What was it? There were too many emotions to pinpoint, Azriel’s chest continued to tighten at the emotions he felt. You left Thesans' side offering him one last smile, but that smile fades, when you approach them.

“It’s time, are you ready?” You ask softly, your demeanor changed, a bit relaxed but a heavy weight stays on your shoulders. You roll them back, adjusting yourself. Azriel watches you with such careful eyes, you paid no mind, your thoughts elsewhere.

“ Yes-“ Elain starts but her gaze flickers back and forth between you both. For Elain it was rather odd to see the two of you interact, when she had met you, your relationship with Azriel was already thin, you were distant with him compared to everyone else. Elain assumed that your relationship had always been like that, but now she wasn’t so sure..

“ Are you alright?” Azriel asks you, his hand twitches slightly, part of him restrains himself, the other yearned to reach out for you. But you were quick to recover, offering him a reassuring smile.

“ Yeah I’m fine, let’s go.” You placed your hands on both of them, winnowing them back to the town house. There Nuala and Cerridwen greeted the three of you. Nuala took the pots out of Elains hands, Cerridwen took the flowers and placed them in another vase. Elain begins gushing about the journey to Dawn, how gorgeous it was..You sighed exhausted leaving the space quietly to head to your own room. Azriel was about to follow you when Elain called for his help in the kitchen. Azriel hesitated staring up at the staircase. Why couldn’t he just talk to you? He’s a Shadowsinger, a spymaster, and he can pry details out of anyone but you. All he can feel is your emotions-your emotions... Elain had pulled Azriel from his thoughts as she hugged a pot to herself.

“Az? Are you coming?” She says as she waits for him to follow her to the garden. Again he hesitates but he feels a stirring in his chest. Azriel lifts up a hand instinctively touching it, a sharp sensation could be felt beneath his chest. It couldn’t be? Could it? Azriel’s eyes widen, Elain takes a breath “ I’ll be outside Az when you’re ready-“ Azriel moves his feet faster than his mind could process, he was out of the town house door, his wings pushing him off the ground shooting him into the sky, he needing some time to think..

___

The moons at its highest peak, your curtains flowing with gentle breeze that filtered through your bedroom. The candles and lights burnt out signaling that you were asleep, that was until you heard a creak in the floorboard, and the atmosphere changed, a darker presence filled the space. You were lying on your stomach, your hands slipping beneath the pillow as you grip the handle of the blade you’ve hidden beneath it. You felt the figure stop just before your bed frame, you could hear them bend down towards your face. As they reached for you, you swiftly reached out a free hand grabbing them, you flipped them onto the bed, rolling over pinning them down with your blade tucked against their neck in the most vulnerable area.

“ It’s only me” He whispers, the lights in the room reaching a dim hue, illuminating the area.

“ Jeez Az, I could’ve killed you” You replied tiredly, you pulled back the blade placing it on the end table. Azriel’s eyes followed your movement above him, your hips and legs straddling him, your hair in an unruly nature, from slumber. The candles hue amidst the room, caresses your face, your bare legs, your skin making it appear warm to the touch. You had worn a tunic that wasn’t yours, it hugged loosely around your body frame. The tunic looked oddly familiar to Azriel but then again he wasn’t so sure. All he wanted to do was rip whoevers tunic that belonged to, off of your body and replace it with his.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you-” He apologizes,”-I have one question I’d like to ask you” Azriel whispers, as he watches your facial expression twitch into a sleepy confusion.

“This couldn’t wait till morning?” You sighed as your hand moved to rub the sleep from your face. You remove yourself from him, you slip off the bed but not before Azriel caught your wrist. He shifts himself so that he sits up lifting himself off the bed. He towers over you, the candle's glowing light touches his features in a way that it could come off intimidating, but there was a more intimate, soft, texture that made him appear more angelic.

“ No I’m afraid not.” He admits.

You nod your head” What’s your question?”

“ How long have you known about the bond?”Azriel’s voice low, as if to test the waters but enough to plunge himself. He needed answers and after speaking with Rhys, it was his right.

“ What?” Your face dropped, your skin becoming clammy as nervousness passes through you, sleepiness evades you.

“ You heard me, answer the question” his eyes switch between both of yours, searching and evaluating. He tried to pinpoint every emotion you felt, he tried to feel you through, the only thing stopping him was- you.

“ It's not that simple-” You shook your head, pulling your wrist out of his hold. You weren’t prepared for this, you weren’t ready to unravel all that you worked so hard to ignore.

“ It is that simple” Azriel continued to pry, he didn’t need the bond to notice how uncomfortable and painful this topic was for you-it was news to him, he wanted the truth..no lies no games only the truth

“ No, it’s not. It’s complicated-“ You looked away from him moving to the other side of the room. You couldn't find the words to explain this situation, your reasoning. What if what you told him set him off? What if this ruins everything between your friendships? The alliance that has been created? So many thoughts and questions, never enough answers…but for Azriel you did have an answer to his question..

“ Complicated enough for you to leave.” It was then that feeling in your chest, it builds a thick pressure. A heavyweight on your shoulders, the air almost sucked out your lungs. “ Is that what you told Rhys when you were packing your bags?” You couldn’t breathe, Azriel’s footsteps followed you till he was right behind you. You faintly feel the pulse of his surprise and his anger, as if it was your own, but it had been so long since you’d tapped into the bond. You had spent a century ignoring it, shielding it, and now, it was muscle memory..

“ Don’t make me do this..” You whispered out, a silent plea to move on, to let this go.

“ You knew, and yet you decided not to tell me” His voice held a deep frustration, a deep want and need. He wasn’t going to give up, he had a way with finding out the truth..

“ That’s-not what happened..” You were again stumped with words, torn between giving in or lying, torn between running away or staying..

“ No? Then what happened?” He continues to look down at you, you refuse to meet his gaze. Azriel doesn’t take no for an answer moving towards the front. He stands in front of you. His smell, his faint emotions from the bond slowly consuming you. It surrounds you, his shadows dance along the edges of the room, waiting, watching, whispering.

“ Az-” You warned him, it was another weak attempt to fight him off. But he continued to poke, to pull, to pry, to grasp at anything you’d give him. You were tired, exhausted, hiding your emotions, your thoughts, your protected heart and mind bound to collapse, all secrets were meant to escape..

“ I want the truth, Y/N-”. You took a deep breath, your nerves running a mile a minute. His own anxiousness was replaced with a demanding thirst for the truth. A truth that belonged to him too. You’ve kept this wonderful secret to yourself, he watched as his own family found mates that paired well with them. Watching as their life finds the pieces to the puzzle it was missing. Deep down he wanted that very same thing. He felt as though he may not deserve it but he craved it, to be loved unconditionally… “-You owe me that much”

You sighed, your heart shattering, you gave in, you really hadn’t planned too but the look in his eyes-, “..Before Amarantha began her reign, Rhys made an offer to Thesan to let me stay in Velaris, as an emissary between the courts. It was then that I found out that we were mates… It was then that the deal was made.“

“All these years and you kept this to yourself, why?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“ Because I knew you were in love with Mor. I wasn’t going to take that from you. But I did wait for you, I waited a long time. But when it became an achingly slow desperation, I gave up. I practiced silencing the bond, so I couldn’t feel the emotions you felt when you were around other-women..romantically and lustily I mean. Then Elain came around and it was the same process. I’m exhausted, Azriel. I can’t keep doing this”

“ You didn’t bother to try! You’re running back home because you never thought to ask how I might’ve felt!” His jaw tenses, his head slightly tilted to the side, his frustration grows, at this notion of forcing the information out of you, when you should’ve let it happen, when you should’ve told him..

“ I didn’t because I wanted you to come to your own conclusion. I wanted it to be as natural as possible but you were so invested in Mor and Elain and I’m not one to take you away from that. But I also miss the people I care about, I miss my old home-It’s time for me to go-” You protested.

“ What does Rhys think of this?” Azriel jaw twitches.

“ He was the one who encouraged me to speak with Thesan-“

“ Is that what the discussion was between the two of you?” He presses.

“ Yes but-“ You attempt to defend yourself.

“ Y/N, what exactly did you say to him?” Azriel wanted every detail, every version of this story, of his story, of his mates-his mate.

“ I didn’t- I didn’t say anything. I asked if I could return home, and he told me that I should stay here, that if I truly wanted to come home then he’d considered it.” Your heart leaps into your throat, you swallow it back, the feeling collecting.

“ His answer wasn’t even a Yes” Azriel’s scoffs shaking his head, his hands on his hips as he looks at the floor and then away at the window.

“ Yes- but it’s my decision-“ You looked up at him, watching his movements carefully.

“ No it’s not, you’re not going back there.” He challenged, his eyes find their way back to yours.

“ You can’t decide that.” You tell him, the two of you hurting by the weight of your decision. Azriel’s own heart squeezes painfully, at how easy it was for you to say those words to him. You were his, he wasn’t going to let you just walk away, not without fighting for you.

“ Why not? You’d already decided to keep this to yourself regardless of how I felt” He takes a step forward his arms falling back down to his side.

“ Azriel please listen to me-“ You tried to reason, you tried to find a way to break through, he wasn’t thinking straight, you weren’t thinking straight, neither one of you.

“ No you listen, all those years, all those centuries, you were my friend, and you were someone who loved me. Loved me enough to sacrifice what you felt so I could find happiness. In the depths of my mind I have fought and searched for you without realizing that you were here in front of me..I was too blind to see it. ” His hands flew to your face, your jaw, cupping it, his thumbs grazing your cheekbones. Your hands follow suit as your fingers grip his wrists. His shadows remove themselves from the dark corners of your room, shooting out to tangle around your wrists, not to pull your hands away but to hold you there in place. “ Please don’t run from me” He whispers, his forehead dipping down to rest on yours. His hands slide from your cheeks to the sides of your neck.

“ Az-I can’t stay” You replied quietly, your hands pulling at his wrists weakly at his. You both knew that you could take him down easily, but at this moment in time the two of you were struggling. The tension grew thick in the air. A sort of sharp feeling intensifies, the faded familiarity that was the bond, solidifies. You thought that you had successfully mastered the art of blocking the bond but no. Azriel must’ve truly accepted it, a different feeling takes over, Azriel hums at the feeling. You sucked in a breath.

“ You can’t leave without knowing I’ve accepted the bond” His nose brushes against yours. You shook your head once more, completely pushed Azriel away. Your hands fly to your head, your fingers tangling in your hairs. You wanted nothing more than to curl into yourself, this was too surreal, too overwhelming. You’d spent so long, alone, and working, on occasions waiting. Now you were uncertain, even more than you had been hours ago. Azriel could feel your indecisiveness, he just needed to bring you back to him.

Azriel followed you, he pulled your hands from your hair, one of them he placed on his chest, his heart beating beneath it, you couldn’t look at him. But you could feel the gentleness, the love that flowed through him into you. “ My heart, my soul belongs to you” he tries again. You could feel your body sag at the feeling of comfort. It was so intense and welcoming. You wanted to wrap yourself in it-but you fought it, you were so used to the fighting, the restraint, the self control. “Let go” His voice reaches into the depths of your mind, into your soul, calling out to you.

You placed your forehead on his chest, your hand leaving the area above his heart. Azriel’s wings moved to surround you, his shadows moved to get to you, tangling themselves in your hair, caressing your face and hands. They speak to you wishing you nothing but love and happiness. They bring you comfort, your eyes fluttering shut.

“ Y/N” Azriel calls out. You could feel his hands cupping your face once more tilting it upwards, his breath light. You could feel how close he was, Azriel was right there, all he needed to do-Az’s lips crashed down onto yours, so soft, and yet his kiss held all his desperation, his passion. He couldn’t hold back, not with you, not when he loved you so. You weren’t surprised, in fact you hadn’t realized how much you yearned for his touch, his kiss. Azriel turns his head to the side deepening the kiss, a quiet moan slips out. By the cauldron Azriel loved to hear that sound, he wanted to hear it again, and again, and again. For as long as he lived and breathed.

You were putty in his hands, the feeling of his touch, his thoughts, his emotions was putting you in overdrive. Your mind couldn’t comprehend nor catch up to the pace in which things were happening. Azriel lets go of your lips for a brief moment, allowing you a chance to breathe, a whimper and the need for air also escapes your lips. Azriel had to fight the urge to keep himself from taking you right then and there. You had the urge to let him do it, you placed your hands on his chest pushing him back a step. You couldn’t think with him in your space, Azriel wasn’t going to budge, but with the way you were so caught up and caught off guard, he let you take a second.

“Okay-“ You breathed out. Azriel’s eyes light up, a smile threatens to break out. “ I-um-“ You cleared your throat,”Uh-I-I accept the bond..” you whispered the last part. Azriel’s heart gave a squeeze of joy, his chest filled with lightness, with happiness and relief. All he had ever hoped for had finally come to fruition. A twinkle of mischief sparks in his eyes, a smirk finds its way onto his beautiful features.

“ What was that?” He asks, yet you squint your eyes at him, you know he heard, he knows he heard you, but he wanted you to say it again. “-I didn’t quite hear you” You bit the inside of your cheek still squinting at him. You sighed, your body began to relax, your facial expressions changing to that of a sheepishness. You were struggling to admit it, Azriel waited for you patiently.

“ I-“

“ Yes?”

“ Az” You raised your eyebrows at him, as if to say I’m trying here.

“ I’m sorry, please go on.” He encourages you.

You sighed as you tried again this time “ I accept the bond-” You are much more confident and certain. “I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. You were right, my heart and soul belongs to you-“Azriel couldn’t contain himself much longer as took you into his arms and spun you around. A victorious grin graced both of your features, and for once the weight of the world didn’t feel so heavy in your chests. You gave a light hearted giggle, your heart swooning. Azriel places you back on the ground. You smiled brightly, the twinkle reaching your eyes. “This is happening?” You asked out loud, you searched for clarification.

“ Yeah it is” Azriel let go grabbing your hand pulling you towards the window. You tilted your head to the side, a sweet smile on your lips, a playful yet teasing expression stretches onto Azriel’s face. “Do you trust me?” his hand extends outward.

“ Yes.” You lift your hand to place it into his, this time a new height sense fills both your bodies. The touch feels like a loving hum on your skin. Your minds, your souls, finally resting after all the searching that it had done. You place your hand in his, he guides you out of the window onto the terrace of the town house. You followed him blindly, willingly. Azriel stood taller in the moonlight, and the stars above shining, his shadows nowhere to be found, it was just him. “ Az wait- Elain-“

“She knows, and I’m sure she will be upset with me, but she has Lucien..She doesn’t need me.” He nods. You watch him closely, as you slowly lift a hand to caress his cheek, the touch sweet and warming. Azriel instinctively leans into your touch, turning his head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand.

“ I’m sorry” You whispered, you realized that you may have ruined a friendship for him, a little bit more than a friendship..

“ No I’m sorry” he replies as he takes you back into his arms, the sounds of the city's music playing amongst the trees, the flowers, the plants, the night sky seeming more inviting, more alive. All Azriel knew was in this moment in time he finally understood the accept of the bond, the waiting, the calling, you had always been there waiting for him, you gave him time, space, anything he needed to figure himself out..All those times he spent with other women- then it dawned on him, had you done the same? You chuckled upon feeling that jealous emotion. “ Who’s tunic are you wearing?”

“ Az, it’s yours”

“ What-“ You peel yourself out of his arms.

“ This tunic you let me borrow on a mission we had, remember? Court of nightmares? I was stuck in a brothel, I ended up fighting my way out, my clothes were completely shredded?” You offered bits and pieces of the memory, Azriel’s takes a moment to recollect and it hits him.

“ Yes I remember, you ate a bowl of soup that night at one of the hostels. You hated it,” He chuckled as he remembered the disgusted look on your face. You laughed alongside him. You moved to head back towards your room but Azriel was quick to catch your hand.

”Where are you going?”

“Um-to make you something, we still have to seal the bond.”

“ Not here”

“ Then where?” Azriel grins as he throws one of your arms around his neck, one catches your back the other catches your knees.

“ Somewhere private, where I can have you all to myself, no distractions, just you and me” He whispers to you, his face dipping closer to yours, you sucked in a small breath, the blood beneath your skin singing, practically humming. His arms tightened their hold on you pressing you as flush to him as possible. Azriel looks away and upwards towards the night sky, his wings strong as they help push the two of you off the ground. Excitement filled the air, the night, seemed sweeter, less stuffy, inviting. You guessed that Thesan was right for making you stay here, to reconsider, you were thankful that he pointed you back in the direction of your mate. Azriel was happy that his brother fought for his love, fought for him to find happiness. It was more than just two courts keeping a civil peace, it was about two souls that needed to find each other, even if it takes a century.

[lady-of-tearshed]

Pretty pretty please can you write some azris x fem reader smutty angst forced proximity goodness! Azris can be established pair and then they meet reader who initially they all don’t get along buttttt they are obsesssed with her then BOOM TRIAD BOND ANGSTY PERFECTIONNNNN 🥵🥵🥵

A Missing Piece

Pairing: Azris x Reader

Summary: Eris, in a secret relationship with Azriel, seeks you out and marries you in order not to raise suspicions from his father. What happens when Autumn's High Lord discovers the truth?

WC: 2.2k words

Warnings: Angst, injuries, mention of blood, jealousy (kinda?), Eris being married but having a lover on the side (it's not cheating, not really. It's known. It's more like an arrangement), hurt/comfort

Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears 💕

“Eris!”

You could remember as if it was yesterday, the day a winged figured male had burst through the doors of the forest house, carrying Eris—bruised and bloodied—into his arms. 

“He's my mate,” Eris rasped, before going uncouncious in the Illyrian's arms.

That was the day Beron had set a trap to Eris, having discovered his son's trickery and deciding to take matters into his own hands. He hadn't planned that Azriel and Eris would be seeing each other in Dún Èideann—Autumn's capital state—that night, despite the storm raging. Eris had only been ordered to scout for rebels, and Beron had been waiting for him instead, plotting his son's murder. 

Later, you had found out that some servants had overheard you and Eris one night, talking about the reason you had gotten married in the first place. 

You and Eris had been friends since your youth. You had always known the pressure Beron was putting on his son to find a wife, and one day, when you had questioned Eris on his hesitancy, he had confessed that he was seeing someone already, someone whom he couldn't be with, not publicly. So you had offered him your hand, making an oath to keep his secret, in exchange of being saved from getting married to some random horrible male. 

You had never expected Eris to be so kind to you throughout the years following the wedding. He had been nothing but honest about his whereabouts, though never quite entering the details about this mysterious person he was seeing. A bond forged on trust and respect had grown between the two of you, holding you together like strong and wild vines. You had found a friend in him, a partner, and he in you as well. 

Your first meeting with Azriel had been frantic, hurried, trying to save Eris from dying in his arms. You had led him to the healing quarters, and coaxed him into dropping Eris down to a cot to let the healers work on him. 

Through it all, their hands had remained joined. Azriel barely blinked, even as the healers were done tending to Eris' wounds, assuring them that he would live. He had stayed by Eris' side, some strange sort of shadows seeming to seep out of his body. 

You had stayed awkwardly, caring for Eris' well being, and curious about this mysterious winged male—quite handsome male, you must admit—sitting by his side. 

“Eris told me about you,” you said, finally breaking the silence. Azriel shot you a menacing glare, his eyes as sharp as the dagger tied to his hip. “I'm glad he has you.” 

Something shifted in his demeanor then, as if you had managed to slip through a crack in the thick armor he was wearing to protect himself. 

“What's your name?” 

The male sitting beside Eris bed tensed, his wings twitching discreetly as he seemed to ponder whether he should answer your question or not. 

“Azriel,” He answered, his voice deep and smooth like silk. He broke eye contact with you then, looking back down at Eris’ unconscious form. 

Sensing that this discussion wouldn't go further tonight, you had risen from where you sat, Eris’ mattress regaining his form. “Tell the healers to come and warn me when he'll wake up, please.” You smiled politely, watching him offer you a curt nod as an answer, then you left the two of them alone, offering some much earned privacy. 

Eris woke up days later. His face was pale—paler than usual—and his cheeks were hollowed, his bones showing up more from the carence in nutrients his body had gone through. 

Azriel had told the healers to come and get you, as per your request. Relief flooded over you at seeing Eris awake. You were glad he had made it through. 

You had stayed in the shadows, lingering by the infirmary door. You had observed the two males, watching how they interacted with each other. Eris and Azriel were like stars and planets, orbiting around the other, meant to be.

Something had stirred in your chest at the sight of it. It wasn't jealousy, no. Not exactly. More like resiliation, and the itching desire to belong there, too. The thought of being a part of it, of them, startled you at first. You had never thought possible for you to desire something like that before, of wanting two males all at once. 

Before you could make sense of the turmoil of emotions brewing in your chest, Eris' voice called your name. 

“Y/N…”

Soft, almost weak. Still raspy from not using his voice in days. It made your heart jump slightly, but you quickly tucked it away. Eris had never chosen you, he had made it clear from the start, and you had both agreed. But they did. And you knew you had to make your mind with it, because you respected Eris, and wanted his happiness more than anything in this world. 

“I'm glad you're awake,” You fidgeted with your sleeves, the lacework feeling nice and grounding between your fingers tips. 

You turned your face to Azriel, “I wanted to thank you, Azriel. For saving my… husband. For saving Eris.” You felt his gaze fall on your hands. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, you stopped your fidgeting, trying to look more confident. “Please, feel free to stay at the Forest House for as long as you need. I'll make sure not to interfere between you two.” 

You saw Eris' face drop, and guilt twisting his features. Before he could open his mouth and try to make you feel better, you raised your hand and shook your head. 

“It's… It's okay, Eris. Well… I guess. You had made it clear from the very beginning that someone else—Azriel had your heart. I just… I need time, please.” 

He tried to sit up in bed, Azriel quickly assisted him as Eris’ face contorted in pain. “Y/N, please. Let me explain-” 

“There's nothing to explain, Eris.” You smiled softly at him, taking a step back, moving toward the corridor. “Rest. Give me time. You don't have to feel bad about anything. It's okay,” You turned around, took a deep shaky sigh. “We may talk about it later, if you wish. But not now, please.” 

Eris didn't answer, didn't call you back, only watched you leave. Your footsteps echoed in the House as you walked away, leaving the two lovers together, as it should. 

Azriel, surprisingly, had stayed. You weren’t sure where Eris slept at night, since you had spent the past nights alone, in your bed. Your guess was that he had been sleeping in the Illyrian’s bed. But knowing Eris and his self-sabotaging tendencies, perhaps he had resolved to sleeping alone in the infirmary. 

Weeks went by, and you found Azriel’s presence in the forest house not as uncomfortable as you would have thought. You didn’t hate him for being Eris’ lover, nor did he seem to resent you for taking an important place for such a long time in Eris’ life while he had to stay in the shadows. 

Eventually, once the tension had seemed to fade and you had stopped avoiding Eris like the plague, you three had fallen into some kind of routine. 

The three of you would share breakfast together. The table was quiet at first, none of you dared to speak. The atmosphere in the room was frigid, but it warmed up, eventually. 

You had been the first to break the ice, asking Azriel about his life, passions, occupation. You had learned that he worked for the Night Court’ High Lord. His brother, he called him, but not by blood, by choice. 

You hadn’t managed to inquire about his blood family. It seemed to be a sensitive cord for him, much like it was for Eris. So you respected that, and moved on to something lighter. 

Eris had to go through physical therapy in the afternoon. The blow his father had thrown his way before Azriel could interfere had left damages, even on his Fae body. Now, he needed to walk with a crutch. Eris used it with grace, though, not showing one ounce of weakness. You had witnessed Azriel needing to discreetly make him slow down and rest a few times. 

One time, when Eris had been out with the healer for his therapy, you had offered Azriel to have tea with you. 

That, too, soon became part of your daily routine. 

Throughout the passing weeks, which then stretched into a whole month, the three of you had sort of settled into a domestic tranquility. 

The flicker of guilt and unsaid things between you and Eris was still palpable, though. Until one night, he decided that things needed to change.

After one quick exchange with Azriel, the shadowsinger was on his feet. 

“I feel like I have overstayed my welcome, Lady Y/N.  My High Lord needs me around, so. I shall thank you, really, for your hospitality.” 

“Oh! Well, you’re welcome to come back and stay for as long as you wish, Azriel, really. This house is probably more yours than mine anyway, as you are technically Eris’ partner while I’m just, well… me.” 

The silence fell upon the room, only the sound of your utensils scraping your plate as you moved the food around echoing. 

“Y/N…”

“Eris,” You cut him quickly while your shoulders curved inward. “It’s fine, really.”

“I… I will leave, now,” Azriel quickly said, then walked out of the room. He stopped by Eris momentarily, though, giving his shoulder a soft squeeze and placing a silent kiss to the top of his head. 

The moment Azriel had walked out of the room, Eris tried again. 

“Y/N, darling, we need to talk-”

“No, Eris. We really don’t.” You snorted, shaking your head as you tried to hide the tears forming in your eyes. “You need to let me go, Eris. It’s fine, really. I was planning to move out soon, anyway.”

“I can’t,” his voice shook, “Y/N, darling, I can't. I need you by my side.”

“What you ask is not fair, Eris. Not for me, nor you, and definitely not for Azriel.” You snapped, staring straight into his copper eyes as you spoke. 

“He needs you too, Y/N.” He was snarling now, fist clenched tight underneath the table. “Have we not made it obvious enough for you? We both need you, we want you here, in our life,” his breaths were coming in quick and rasped. 

“Don’t leave,” he whispered, eyes wet and pleading. “We want you to be part of our life, if you’ll have us.” 

He sucked in a breath, then exhaled it shakily. “Both of us,” he added, his face hard, showing no compromise would be possible. 

The massive oak clock on your left, behind Eris, ticked as the seconds passed by. 

You both looked—truly looked—at each other for the first time in over a month. A silent conversation flittered between the two of you, all the emotions resulting from weeks of repression sparkling like flashes of lightning in a storm. 

“Azriel,” you called, finally breaking the silence. “Get back here.”

Azriel, looking all sheepish, reappeared from behind one of the dining room’ alcoves. “I… I didn’t mean to snoop.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms on your chest. You didn’t believe him for one second, and you had known he hadn’t left the room since the very beginning of this conversation. 

“Right…” Azriel bit the inside of his cheek, the action making him appear more adorable than it was fair. “What Eris told you… It’s true, all of it.”

“We talked,” he continued. “It’s not a decision we took hastily. We have talked about it. A lot.”

“I… I’m not sure when I decided that this, making you a part of us, would be something I’d want. We just fell into this routine, and everything just seemed to… fit. Like you had always been a part of our life. In some ways, you have, I think. We just didn’t… know it yet.” Azriel smiled softly, then sat on your other side. 

His next step shocked you. His hands scooped yours, his skin, scarred and imperfect, held yours. It was the first time Azriel touched you with purpose, and yet, it felt as if he had done this all his life. “I'd like us to try,” he said, his voice talking low and his face open, honest. “I think what’s going on between us three is good. It feels… comfortable. Natural.” 

You looked back at Eris with teary eyes, then back at Azriel. There was no trace of hesitation to be found on their face. They were asking you, out of everyone, to be a part of their life. They have bared themself to you, left their heart open and raw, waiting for you to do as you wished with it. 

At last, you nodded. “Okay.” You sniffled, squeezing Azriel hands tighter as you turned toward Eris. He was shaking, tears spilling on his freckled cheeks. “I’d like us to try, too.” 

Azriel pulled you off your chair and took you in his arms, and you melted. He felt strong, steady, and smelled like night-chilled mist and cedar. 

But something was missing.

You extended your hand toward Eris, a soft smile on your lips. “Both of you, Eris,” you reminded him, pulling the guilt off his skin as you reused his words. 

Eris broke down, and he started to cry. All the relief washed away from him and escaped his body all at once. 

You and Azriel moved, making your way toward Eris, and enveloped him in your warmth. 

And just like that—in this mess of emotions and rawness—something beautiful started to bloom between the three of you.

A/N: Thank you for the request! I really enjoyed writing it... smut will be in part two 👀 stay tuned!

ALSO! MASSIVE THANK YOU TO @nocasdatsgay !! Love you lots, thanks for reading through this and giving me your professional throuple advices! Honestly, if you want to read more Azris x Reader fanfictions, go take a look at her page and give her work some well-deserved appreciation. 💕

ACOTAR general taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @paige0103 @princesssunderworld

Azris taglist: @g00seg1rl @irithiadourden

[pit-and-the-pen]

How to Melt Steel

Summary: Short little fic Azriel being totally whipped for a badass reader

*Something something insert male sword/knife joke here*

Azriel x f reader

WC: 1.8k

Warnings: Slight Sexual innuendos but nothing graphic.

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Azriel cursed to himself when he saw the small chip in Truth Teller. He had kept it in almost immaculate condition for as long as he’s had it. The metal scraped from near constant sharpening but that little crack in the tip had him shedding a silent tear. It had been during a sparring session with Cassian of all things. The blade was knocked out of his hand and bounced against the cement. His sixth sense told him of the damages before he had even looked.

“She’s the best in town. Will have you in and out in less than an hour.” Cassian told him when Azriel delivered a heavy blow to his chin at the sight of his damaged weapon.

“I hope for your sake she is.” He muttered to his brother. Truth Teller was an extension of himself. It was as recognizable as his wings in his opinion. And that exact thinking is how he found himself outside of your shop. The heat from the forge could be felt the moment he stepped through the door. A small light went off as the door opened, and when he heard the sound of metal on metal, he could see why you opted for that over a bell.

The sound seemed to bounce off of his skull, shaking his brain. He looked and saw you hunched over an anvil. The hammer in your hand repeatedly striking a red hot blade.

The light lashed again and you paused mid swing. Eyes going wide as you took him in. His cheeks heated slightly in embarrassment at the way you seemed to instantly fear him.

He took in the black soot across your cheeks, the distinct goggle marks when you placed them on the top of your head. It was a sight that almost made him laugh.

“The infamous shadowsinger. What do I owe the pleasure?” Your voice was light, teasing him he realized with a start.

You seemed to steal the words from his mouth, only able to open and close his mouth like an idiot.

“Earth to shadowsinger?” You waved a hand in front of his face.

“Azriel.” He blurted out. You cocked a crooked smile at him.

“Okay. Azriel,” You said his name slowly, like you were weighting it on your tongue. “What can I do for you?”

He gathered his wits enough to pull out the blade from its seeth on his side.

“Chipped it in training.” He watched your eyes go large again as he placed it on the counter. You looked at the blade, then back to him. You repeated the movement a few times. He wanted to shrink in on himself until he caught the gleam of, not fear as he expected, but excitement.

“Is that really?” Your voice raised half an octave, “I’ve only heard rumors of it. But seeing it up close. Can I-” You tentatively reached a hand out for it. Azriel only nodded. A small male pride weld up in his chest as you wrapped your hand around the hilt of the dagger. He pulled back the shadows that jetted towards you. It was silly really. It was just a dagger after all but he found his cheeks heating up as you inspected it nonetheless.

You twisted it in your hand, shifting it from one hand to the other.

“Perfectly balanced,” You scraped a finger over the edge of the blade, “Sharp as shit.” You said mostly to yourself. Your eyebrows pulled together as you saw the small knick at the top of the blade.

“Well, you’re lucky. It’s a brittle fracture. I should be able to buff it out in about half an hour.” You spoke directly to the blade, not taking your eyes away from it for a second.

“Perfect.”

“You can stay if you want. Like I said, I should be quick.” You turned your back to him before he could answer and he felt the heat in the room ramp up.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you stuck the small blade in the forging die, letting it heat up before you pulled it out and took it out to the anvil. He flinched when you brought your hammer down the first time. He noticed it was far gentler than your movements from when he first entered the shop. He took note of the way you seemed to almost sculpt the tip back together. Treating it with the same reverence as a potter would their clay. He cursed under his breath as he saw one of his shadows curling around your wrist. You looked down slightly before taking a glance at him. You didn’t say anything, just continued on with your work. A faint smile ghosting your face.

You were muttering to yourself as you worked. Words that he couldn’t make out no matter how hard his ears strained. He was transfixed by the speed and accuracy that you worked. It was impressive to say the least, the way the muscles in your arms flexed as you worked. He found himself watching you closer than he should have and if you weren’t so caught up in your work, he might have found himself embarrassed. He was gawking but couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

The hissing as you put the blade into a cold pot of water had him jumping slightly. He almost spoke up when he saw the charred tip of his dagger.

“Calm down.” You laughed, it took him a second to realize he had leaned further over the counter at the sight, shadows following without his command. “I still have to polish it.”

He just nodded and took a step back from the counter. He watched as you spread some strong smelling paste on the blade, it seemed to bring the color back to normal. A loud whirring filled the shop and you pulled up a small stool to the grinding wheel. Stroke after stroke had sparks flying towards your face. You didn’t even flinch as he saw the flecks land on your arms. His hands tightened into fists as he saw the small pink marks appear on your skin where they landed. Disappearing so quickly he would have missed them if he wasn’t watching so closely.

You pushed your goggles on your head again, turning the blade in between your hands. Searching for something he didn’t see. You must have found it because you gave a small nod before turning to the polishing block beside you, another paste was smeared on the blade before you started up the next wheel. Once again, he was captivated by the care you seemed to take with the blade. Examining it every couple of strokes. Azriel tried not to let his mind drift to other things your steady hands could handle.

“All done.” You said and it pulled Azriel back from whatever daydreams he had. You held out the dagger to him, point facing the ground. He took it from your hand, his fingers brushing yours slightly. He might have been imagining it but he swore he saw a light blush appear across your cheeks. But it was probably just from the heat of the forge.

“You can test it out before you leave.” You said, slightly out of breath. “I have some targets in the back you can use.”

Azriel knew just by looking at it that it was perfect. But he found himself agreeing to the offer anyway. You lifted the small gate on the counter and he followed you to a small patio off the shop. There were a few wooden targets hanging and some burlap training dummies. You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest.

“I don’t think I need to explain to you how to use it.” You teased again. Head tilting towards the targets. Azriel smirked.

“You’d be surprised what I can do with it.” He shot a wink your way and knew for a fact that was a blush spreading across your cheeks, suddenly unable to meet his eyes.

He slashed the air a few times before spinning and throwing the blade over his shoulder. It made a satisfying arc before sticking in the dead center of the target.

You gave a small clap as he went to collect the dagger.

“How does it feel?” You ask and his brain blanked for a moment. He looked at you, head slightly cocked. “The dagger?”

“Oh. Yeah,” He shook his head lightly, running a hand over the back of his neck, “Good as new. Better even.” He looked down the edge of the blade, noticing the way it seemed to sparkle in the sunlight.

“Perfect.”

“How much do I owe you.” He looked up and you only waved a hand at him.

“Consider it a favor. It was payment enough to even be able to touch the damn thing. It’s legendary if you can believe it.” You winked at him again. He went to argue with you but you held up your hand. “If you’re that determined. Then maybe you can take me out to dinner. Next tuesday? 7pm.”

Azriel was shocked by your boldness. He floundered, looking for the words to say yes without seeming too eager.

“That blade isn’t the only thing that has legends a mile long.” You turned on your heel and walked back into the shop. Azriel just stood there, absolutely dumbfounded. His shadows swirled around his feet, almost pulling him towards you. His heartbeat was far too fast for a male of his age. Here he was whimpering behind you like a teenager. His brain suddenly remembered how to work and he was following behind you. He grabbed your wrist gently in his hand and spun you around to face him.

“Does 6pm work?” He asked. You gave me a small smile and nodded.

“Don’t be late.” Was all you said before you turned away from him again and pulled a chord that fired up the forge again.

Azriel walked back to the house of wind in a daze. He felt like he got run over by a horse in the best way. You were not at all what he was expecting and he found himself already searching for a reason to head back to the shop.

“She take it well?” Cassian called over his shoulder when Azriel walked back into the house. He froze midstep.

“Take it?” Azriel questioned.

“Fix it, I mean.” He laughed when Azriel failed to school his expression.

“Oh yeah, good as new. You get to keep your favorite parts this time, Cas.” He joked and Cassian let out a low whistle.

“She’s got you bad already. Knew you would like her.”

“What do you mean?”

“It might as well be written all over you, you reek of whatever happened.”

“Nothing-” Cassian held up hand.

“Lie to me all you want.”

“I mean it, nothing happened. Well she told me I’m taking her to dinner next week.”

“Told you?” Cassian Laughed. “About time someone put you in your place.”

“Shut up you overgrown bat.”

“Ouch. Keep it up and I’ll run and tell her all your secrets.” He ducked out of the way as Azriel sent a vase flying his direction.

“Butt out of it.”

“Bit touchy?”

Azriel just muttered a quiet shut up under his breath before he walked into his room.

Tag list: @sarawritestories @ninthcircleofprythian @prythianpages @lady-of-tearshed @daycourtofficial @readychilledwine @tadpolesonalgae @nocasdatsgay

[solbaby7]

I love the blurb bar idea and I loved the pina colada one, how about a neat gin n tonic with a salt rim?

[ forced proximity: “you can’t seriously be insinuating that i should sit on your lap.” + smut + az ]

guys i got carried away 🫣🤭 but at least it’s finished and has minimal spelling errors 🤍🩷

-> BLURB BAR <-

To put it quite frankly, you and Azriel didn’t really get along.

It seemed almost easy for everyone else in the Inner Circle to latch onto him; to gravitate towards him and all his shadowy mysteriousness—but not you. Between his victim complex, lack of self-control and the inability to properly communicate his feelings like a normal person, you’d lost your patience for him long ago.

Maybe that’s why you laugh right in Rhysand’s face after he lays down the guidelines for your temporary deployment to the Steppes. Everything sounds perfectly normal up until the end when Rhysand’s lips form the words, “—and you’ll be going with Azriel; he’s already been briefed.”

“Very funny,” Shoulders shake through your laughter, tickled from the joke. “But, you don’t have to go to such lengths just to make me laugh Rhys.”

Your grin fades comically fast and the deep frown that takes it place doesn’t falter long after you’ve left the High Lord’s office and scrounged back to your own chambers to pack. Every move is mechanical, clothes being folded and stuffed away a little rougher than necessary as you try not to think about having to spend seven whole days holed up in a creaky cabin with some brooding bat.

To be fair, Azriel seems no happier than you about the situation, his signature brood securely in place when you meet on the balcony at the witching hour with bag in hand. “Come—let’s get this over with.”

You refrain from commenting on his attitude; hold yourself back from snapping when he snatches your duffle from your grasp just to watch it disappear in a puff of sentient shadow. They’d almost be cute—Azriel’s shadows—if they weren’t so fucking useless. Capable of procuring intel and acting as camouflage but can’t manage to hold two fae long enough to get them to the Illyrian mountains.

No, instead you were subjected to this. Close contact and his fucking hands holding onto your body as he flies on a route you’re unfamiliar with. You eye his wings cautiously, trying to be subtle when you peek over the strong line of his shoulder but being this close? He can feel every beat of your heart against your sternum. Every squirm and twitch of a limb as you try to find a more comfortable place to put your arm. “Will you stop moving?”

“I can’t help it,” Hips shift once more, one leg hitching just a little higher on his hip. “Your fucking daggers keep poking me.”

Azriel tenses up, muscles locking and suddenly you’re being moved how he pleases—both legs wrapped around his waist and a firm forearm clasped around the base of your spine. “Stay.” His voice is rougher than your used to, his blunt nails biting into the sliver of skin exposed to the elements. “Don’t move, we’re almost there.”

That was a lie—it would take hours to make it to the Steppes but the gruff command is surprisingly easy to follow. And while you’ll never verbally admit it, the secure bracketing of his arms around your body was more of a comfort than a nuisance. It’s all too easy to ease into his grasp, allowing sleep to take over until the journeys over and you swear you can feel him cradle you in closer, his nose ghosting over the crown of your head.

He makes absolutely no comment on it when you finally arrive with your hair ruffled, clothes crinkled and the imprint of Azriel’s syphon on your cheek other than a chuffed out, “You snore.”

Instinct screams at you to make some snappy comment back but reason doesn’t allow it to be voiced—not here. Here, you and Azriel would have to appear as a united front, for the males raised in this terrain were bred to sniff out any and all weaknesses to exploit. Only here do you allow the hand that permanently glues itself to the dip of your back, pushing you past rabid animals swollen with pride and snarling with hatred.

Slurs are spat from their lips but Azriel doesn’t pay them any mind, so you don’t either.

He walks through the camps as if he owns them, spine straight and shoulders square. Strong wings stand proudly behind him, shadows guarding your flank until the unforgiving chill is replaced by the stuffy warmth of a mess hall. It’s cramped—a little dirty and smells like a mixture of male and tobacco but either way you’re given a warm meal and fresh water to drink.

The vulgar comments grow more frequent, mutterings of their unwanted appreciation towards your body so sickening that your appetite threatens to scurry away. “They’re disgusting.” You scoff, setting down your tray of food, one hand curled around the chair.

It doesn’t give. Azriel’s boot curled around the leg holds it in place. Arched brows furrow at him, nose scrunching under the effort it takes not to kick him in his shin but there’s something about his body language that make you stop. “They’ll keep doing that shit if they think you’re free game.” Every syllable is clipped; laced with a wildness you’re unfamiliar with—almost as if he’s insinuating that it’s your fault that such brutish males were salivating at the sight of you. Darkness cloaks the hazel tones of his eyes when he meets your own and you nearly miss the gesture he makes.

One hand patting twice at his lap.

“Absolutely not.” Azriel’s boot shoves the seat away completely when you make a move to sit down on it once more. He settles deeper in his own, thick thighs manspreading as deft hands adjust the positioning of his holsters, guiding sharpened weapons away from the area of space he frees up for you. “You can’t seriously be insinuating that I should sit on your lap?”

“I’m not insinuating anything, this is me telling you—sit down.”

You pray he doesn’t see the blush that burns against your cheeks when you take a seat in his lap, his hands resting along the sides of your hips. He keeps eating as if nothing is new. As if he doesn’t realize the way his touch has you squirming against solid muscle through thick leathers, legs subconsciously parting to make more room for the wandering fingers that slide down your thighs, digging into sensitive inner thighs. “What are you doing?” You ask, barely able to grab at the food before you with the way your hands shake.

“I’m sending a message.”

Breath catches when you feel Azriel’s thigh flex between your legs, pressing against your sex in such a way that you’re certain it’s impossible that he hadn’t felt the way you clench in response. “What kind of message?”

“The kind that says someone already owns you.” People are looking, that much you know—can feel their eyes tracking every move. Azriel’s hand splayed over your stomach, his head tucked in the curve of your shoulder as his free hand spies its way through your breeches. There’s a pause, one where you’re time to push him away, to declare that this was entirely too far and smack him clear across his face.

That doesn’t happen. Your legs only part further, making more room for needy fingers to shove past your panties.

It’s a foolish decision, you can feel it the second you make it. As if you’d just unconsciously confirmed the ridiculous notion that you were one of Azriel’s possessions. To do as he pleased. To sit there splayed out across his lap like some puppet and allow him to take the reins and show off all your tricks until you’re boneless and drooling.

He’s too good with his hands. Too slick with the sly filth he mutters into your ear as he fondles at your clit under the table, pressing firm circles into the bundle of nerves until you’re panting like a bitch in heat.

You barely remember how much you hate him when he touches you like this. Until the orgasm fades and your consciousness clears and even though the way you lean into the dip of his neck appears like some typical lovers embrace—bystanders fail to hear the sharp way you sneer, “Tell anyone about this ever and I’ll fucking kill you.”

[lunajay33]

Over Looked

•🪽🌌🌑•

Summary: Being the youngest Archeron sister was hard and when you’re thrown into a new life as a high fae living in the night court people don’t see your struggle, and the one you crave only has eyes for your sister Elain

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Info: Elain and Nesta always hated reader, Rhys and Feyre adore her, angst with a happy ending

•Masterlist•

After years of living in poverty, sleeping on the cold hard floor while my three older sisters shared a bed, my two oldest sisters hating me, after almost dying trying to sneak into prythian finding myself lost in the woods for months until a tall man with dark hair found me curled up in the autumn court woods almost starving from being lost for so long and running for my life every second, he was like a dark angel as he kneeled infront of me

Flashback

“Your sister has been desperately trying to find you” he smiles as he pick me up and glimmering smoke surrounds us

“Feyre” I whisper when I open my eyes again I’m in a fancy house and there sits my lovely sister but she was undeniable more beautiful, he lays me on the couch as Feyre kneels next to me

“I tried……I tried to save you Fey” I sigh weakly noticing the tears in her eyes

“I’m so sorry, none of this would’ve happened I should have protected you” she cry’s

She filled me in on everything that happened, how the man that found me was her mate and this was the night court, how she was now a high fae

She helped me bath and fed me, introducing me to Mor, Cassian he was like a huge teddy bear, and Azriel he was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen but he seemed to be standoffish, quiet and mysterious but his shadows would seem me out sometimes late at night when I couldn’t sleep, terrified of the memories of the monsters that had chased me

Then everything changed, me, Elain and Nesta got taken, thrown into the cauldron and turned into high fae, Elain got powers and so did Nesta, I was yet to discover if I had any ability, even now as we were all in the inner circle Elain and Nesta took any chance they could to jab at me

Present

I’m still having a hard time adjusting to this new life, finding it hard to let my old life go wishing I could have what Feyre had, she looks so happy as she looks into the eyes of her mate as they are sat at the head of the table while we all eat our dinner

I look back down the table noticing the way Azriel would glance at Elain, I’ve caught it a few times and it broke my heart each time, the moment I crawled out of the cauldron and looked at him I felt it in my chest that he was the one for me but he had eyes for one of the sisters that made my life hell

“Y/n dear aren’t you hungry?” Mor asks smiling as she’s sat next to me, I put on a fake smile and shrug my shoulders

“Oh I’ve just lost my appetite is all”

“Probably for the best anyways she could afford to loose some weight” Nesta laughed as Elain joined in like cackling hyenas, I can feel my lip wobble as I try to keep the tears at bay looking down at Feyre for help, she always stuck up for me

“Nesta Elain that’s enough” she said sternly, Rhys next to her shooting them daggers with his eyes

“I think I’m just going to go to bed” I excuse myself going down the hall to my room hearing Feyre scold them but they just kept laughing

Looking in the mirror I hold up my shirt sighing, were they right? Maybe Azriel would notice me then, I feel a shadow swirl along my leg up to my cheek giving me a comforting feeling like it’s my own emotional support shadow

I lay in bed as it dances around my fingers, why is it always her, everyone wants them but no one ever wants me, a knock raps on the door and in steps Cassian in all his cuddly glory, since Rhys rescued me he’s helped nurse me back to health and became like a big brother to me

He throws himself on the bed next to me with a pout as he watches me play with the shadow

“You know I’ve never seen them do that with anyone else” he says

“Can I ask you something?” I ask looking at him now

“Of course”

“Am I……ugly?” His eyes grow wide

“What? Of course not your beautiful, don’t listen to them they’re just playing around”

“No they aren’t, they’ve treated me like that from the day I was born, called me ugly, chubby, no one will ever want me, they pick on everything I do and now……the guy I’m destined to be with doesn’t even second glance at me to preoccupied with someone else, of course he would not even my own mate wants me” I rant finally getting it off my chest

“WAIT WHAT? You’ve found your mate and you haven’t told any of us? This is a huge deal who is it?” He asks like a girl wanting all the gossip

“Come on Cas, why would I wanna tell you it’s embarrassing, they always want her” I sigh shrugging my shoulders

“Want who?” He asks rubbing my back

“Elain, but why don’t guys look at me I’m nice and I’d give my heart to him but all he sees is Elain and how pretty she is”

“Elain? Who’s looking at he….” He stops as a see the realization on his face

“Azriel? He’s your mate” I nod looking away

“Like they said I’m too ugly for someone like him” I try to distract myself with the shadow still around my fingers

“Hey you’re beautiful, why don’t you tell him or talk to Feyre and Rhys”

“Maybe”

I made my way down the hall to Rhys’s office where he and Feyre were chatting

“Hey can I talk to you guys?” I ask nervously

“Of course sit” Feyre says motioning to the chair infront of her and Rhys

“I’m sorry about before I’ve told them to stop talking to you like that” Feyre smiles gently

“Thank but I wanted to tell you something else, it’s really been weighing on me” they give me their full attention

“What is it sweetheart?” Rhys asks

“I’ve found my mate”

“What since when?”

“Since I came out of the cauldron” I say as another shadow comes and plays through my hair and they smile

“Azriel?” Rhys asks

“Not that it matters he only has eyes for Elain”

“Oh dear he might come around just give him time” Feyre says

“Why don’t you tell him”

“I can’t I can’t handle that rejection” they give eachother that look that tells me they’re talking to eachother through the bond

“I’m gonna go, it’s getting late” I say leaving quickly before they could stop me

I head to my room and pack a bag, I can’t stay in this place anymore what’s the point Elain and Nesta taunt me all the time, Azriel won’t even look at me

Waiting until the house is quiet I take my bag and head out to the front door about to leave by I feel a tug on my ankle and wrist, I turn seeing shadows trying to pull me back in

“I’m sorry little guys I’ve got to go” they loosen just enough for me to get out of their grasps and leave walking out into the late night, the streets are empty and chilly

“And what’re you doing?” I hear behind me making me stop sending a shiver down my body

I turn seeing Azriel of course the shadows would tel him

“Leave me alone, you’ve done a good job of that so far why stop me now” I keep walking not even knowing where I’m going

“You have no where to go” he says now walking next to me

“Like you care” I sigh

“Why wouldn’t i” I stop and turn to him

“Just give it up Az, you can’t stand me, you don’t talk to me or even look my way, all you can do is ogle Elain and what’s so good about her hmm?”

“She’s having a hard time”

“She’s having a hard time? Can’t you feel it, can’t you see how I’ve been drowning every second and you don’t even feel me” his eyebrows furrow in confusion

“You never told me your problems”

“I shouldn’t have to you should feel them Az, hell the shadows can, they visit me every night”

“They do?”

“Yes but you didn’t even realize right? I’m not waiting around just to watch you fall in love with my own sister” I brush past him but he catches my wrist

“What’re you saying”

“YOURE MY MATE AZRIEL” the night becomes even more silent as he just looks at me

“Why didn’t you tell me” his voice gentle now

“Seriously? You know why”

“I’m…..I’m sorry just give me a chance” I pull my arm back

“I need time az, you’ve hurt me too much”

•

Part.2

[thestarlitmidnight]

✨ Rewrite the Stars ✨

Summary: Being mated to Feyre doesn’t stop Rhysand to seek comfort from his former lover Y/N. One more night, that became their mantra.

Fandom: ACOTAr

Pairing: Rhysand X Y/N

Warnings: Mention of explicit content, be aware of that and consider being 15+ before reading this.

Word Count: 2 810

Previous Chapter

Master List

Chapter Two

"You are an insufferable idiot, Rhysand!" I raised my hand and threw a pillow at him, my voice fierce with anger.

"Angel, calm down, will you?" He raised his hands up, letting the pillow hit his tummy without any attempts to move aside.

"Take that angel and shove it up your arrogant ass!" I picked another pillow from his sofa in the River House, throwing it at him.

"I know about better activities involving those bodily parts," he dared to send me a seductive smile, sounding so damn sure of himself.

"I would rather throw myself off the nearest cliff with my wings tied before getting involved with you ever again!" I seethed and walked over to the sofa to a chair, where I picked another way too decorated pillow and threw it once again, aiming for his cock this time.

"Now, Y/n, let's not get ahead of ourselves," the seductive smirk fell from his face and was replaced with a more serious look.

"You said you had my back! So where were you?!" I picked up a vase that was holding some pastel pink flowers with a weirdly sweet smell and pointed with the vase at Rhysand, my eyes holding murder in them.

"I was tending to my duties, angel," he eyed the vase in my hand like it was his future executor. "Put that vase down, darling, those flowers were grown from seed by Elain, it would break her heart seeing them on the floor."

I bared my teeth at his damn aloofness and growled.

"I don't give a single fuck about what would break Elain's heart," with that, I grabbed the flowers out of that vase and threw them on the near table. "And frankly, you should not as well, not now, I am serious you piece of arrogant male, what the hell was more important than backing me up at the mission!"

He eyed me with caution in his eyes now, yet his eyebrows were raised with mocking amusement. This idiot always knew how to get under my skin.

"You speak of it as if I let you on the battlefield, Angel, it was mere two more hours spent in the presence of Helion," he tried to ease my irritation, but he was doing a terrible job at it.

"Exactly! One more hour with Helion might as well be two on the battlefield, and I would always choose the battle over that little friend of yours! If Azriel wouldn't come check on me, he would have me now in his bedsheets, making me scream his mane," I growled, throwing the vase with full force at him.

It never hit the target. His hand, swift as ever, quickly grabbed the vase a few inches away from his face. Those violet eyes were now glued on me, a predatory look set in them.

"Helion wouldn't dare lay a finger on you," he growled, the irritation in his voice clear now.

Caudlron forbid that another male will touch me. He can go around and fuck his precious little mate, and then situations like this come, and he can erupt with the stored wrath at the mere mention of such a thing.

"And why is that?" My voice was sweet, way too sweet, to the point it was laced with mighty venom. "I am no longer out of the market, as you made very clear when you introduced Feyre to them as your High Lady."

The moment he introduced her as his mate, the eyes of the other High Lords landed on me, the desire and challenge all over their eyes.

"Y/n, a very thin ice," he spoke with such a calm voice that a shiver ran down my spine. Icy fury and possessiveness were all over him. Clear and visible.

"Fuck you, Rhys, I had enough," I bared my teeth at him once again, my hand twitching to reach for my throwing dagger.

"Angel, you know just as I do that Helion or anyone else wouldn't dare to even come too close to you. Stop being dramatic and come here," he placed the damn vase back on the table and spoke with such confidence that I ached to slap that look out of his ridiculously handsome face.

"You were with her, weren't you? That's why you forget," I raised my hand, stopping him from coming too close to me.

If he were too close, I would lose my ground and give into those flirty eyes of his and let my feelings sway me back into the safety of his arms.

"She needed help with explaining the customs of Illyria, and time slipped from my mind. Y/n, angel, I am sorry," he placed his hand over mine, which was on his chest, keeping him at arm’s length.

His fingers brushed across my hand with a gentle caress, his voice a brush of midnight comfort, and those damn eyes, full of those cursed emotions, any of us should no longer feel.

"Can't you just send me on a few-year-long diplomatic mission on the Continent? It strengthens the relationship between Prythian and them?" I breathed out, feeling all the fight leaving my body, leaving just a pure heartache.

What else the fuck did I expect? Of course, he would prioritise his time with his mate over me. Lately, I had stopped being anyone's first choice.

"This is not fair. Not to Feyre, not to me, and not to you. We are just prolonging the suffering, don't you see? I am spending Rhys. I can't go on like this anymore. For a fucking three centuries, I was your only, and now, I was rendered into your fucking side piece! Do you understand how fucking unfair that is?!" I hit his chest, then again and again, angry, hurting, and desperate. "Just send me away and let me go. I am too weak to do it on my own accord, Rhys."

"No," he bit out, but there was raw pain all over his beautiful face. Like he was battling his own demons, his own needs, trying to do the best decision with the best possible outcome. Like he always did. "I am not sending you anywhere, Y/n, you belong here with me."

"Do you even listen to yourself?" I hit him once more, but he grabbed my arms and held them still. "You belong to your mate, you made that fucking decision, not me! She belongs here with you. It's no longer me! We were a pair, we were so damn in love, me being idiot waited for you faithfully for those damn fifty years Rhys! I was there! Always. Yet you fucking accepted that bond! You threw us behind like it never happened and then came to me and wrapped me in this lying, broken blanket of who we used to be! We keep fucking, but why loving you feels like I need to give up my soul?! It's so fucking dysfunctional! Pleasure paid for with guilt and pain!"

It just poured. It always did when he made me this angry.

He let me speak. Let me slap him with my cruel words without protecting himself. Rhys knew how much it was eating me alive. How it was destroying me. Because he had it the same. This was destroying both of us...

"I fucking love you, you Y/n, not her, my heart was, is and always will be yours, hoping to rewrite the stars for us. My soul is the culprit, forcefully tied to someone I did not wished to be tied to. You are the only one I can imagine living my life with. It was always you, angel. Please, do not leave me, you are the last precious thing that I have left," he grabbed my face into his hands, brushing my cheeks with his fingers, pushing the stubborn tears away.

"Then choose me, if you love me Rhys, choose me," I sobbed, throwing my arms around his neck, sounding way too desperate to my own liking.

"Amren-" Rhys opened his mouth, but a sound echoed from the hallway leading into the living room where we were.

"Wait here," he quickly pressed a tender kiss onto my forehead and went to check what the sound was.

How low we fell? Scared of a little sound... Like we were doing something wrong. And being honest, we maybe were, but Cauldron, it felt so right at some moments.

"Oh? I did not knew you had a cat?" I raised an eyebrow, watching the creature with forcefully hidden appal. "The ugliest cat I have ever seen, might I add."

It was true. This can was something uncalled for. Way too large eyes that threatened to fall out of its sockets, each looking at different side. Legs each different length and it was way too long tail. The fur was the real deal though. Patches of different colours, length and structure.

"We do not have a cat. I don't know how this... strange thing... ended here," Rhys sounded just as surprised and stunned as I was.

"Are you sure it is a cat? Can't it be something that came stray from up the mountains? Weak cup of the hoard?" I came closer, suddenly completely forgetting about the argument we had, in favour to entertain the curiosity of inspecting this strange creature.

We had millions of those arguments, this was the first time I ever seen anything like this.

"I have no clue what this is supposed to be," he raised his violet to look at me and gave me a cheeky smile. "But it still looks better than you in the morning after a night full of creaming my name."

I cannot help but burst into laughter at that stupidly hilarious comment.

"This cat looks indeed better than you when you have a bad hair day," I nodded, shaking my head at the absurdity and looked closer at the cat.

"Hello there, little one, are you hungry?" I cooed at it, daring to touch the creature between its ears and scratched it.

To my surprise, it purred, just like a proper cat.

"I have a very expensive fish at my home, this manner lacking donkey fancied himself to have it for a dinner when he would come today, but I will gladly serve his portion to you," I kept cooing at the cat, ignoring the hurt snort from Rhys at my very purposeful teasing at his expense.

"You want to take this... resemblance of a cat... with you back home?" Rhys said with disbelief, looking between the cat he still held and me.

"Yes? Fangie looked rough as well when she happened to come across me," I reported to him, snatching the cat out of his hands. "I will feed this poor creature, bath it and do my research to find out, if it is indeed a cat or something that came down from the mountain."

"Do not mention that bat living in your closet please," Rhys started to laugh, a mirthful, joyful sound as he now studied me with the poor thing in my arms. "It's enough I need to greet her every damn time, I open the closet to take fresh clothes out and pray she will not claw out my eyes."

"Fangie did that only one time and you pissed her and you know it! She is nice bat with proper manners, thank you very much, can't blame a lady for defending herself when she is accused of getting fat," I gave Rhys a pointed look and rocked the reincarnation of misplacement in my arms.

"I merely said, that you are feeding her too much to the point, she can't see her little legs over that fluffy belly," he folded his hands over his broad chest.

He looked like a sulking child instead of a High Lord. I simply rolled my eyes at him and walked closer to him.

"I will go feed it, you tend to your duties and come over, if you will be lucky, this one will leave you some fish for dinner," I leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his lips.

Rhys grabbed my face and deepened the kiss, stealing air from my lungs.

"Wear that lingerie, angel, for me?" He made a sad eyes at me, knowing damn well what works at me.

I forcefully pulled myself away from the comfort of his arms and winked at him, without confirming or denying anything.

He will see, his patience deserves to have some practice as well. Cauldron knows that he gets everything he wants way too easily.

————

I was in the shower, when a warm body pressed against my back and my wings and strong, familiar hands wrapped  around my body.

"There is no time for this, seriously Rhys, are you still horny?" I giggled when I felt his hardened length at my thigh.

"I am always horny, when you are around, you are well aware of that fact, Y/n," he practically purred and started to shower my neck with torturous kisses, while his hands started to explore.

“The dinner is supposed to be in half an hour,” I reminded him, but let my head fall backwards, resting it against his shoulder.

“Plenty of time to hear you cry my name, angel,” he assured me and I did not doubted that statement even the slightest.

His leg came between mine and forced them further apart, while his fingers crossed the path over my chest, down my belly and landed right where I wished to have them.

A pleased moan fell from my lips as they started to brush between my folds, spreading the wetness around.

“Always so fucking ready for me, aren’t you?” He growled into my ear and then bite at it with quite a force, while two of his fingers entered me, forcing a load cry of his name filled with pleasure.

His other hand traveled from my breast, where it was contently busy till now, and he travelled with it to my neck, where he playfully squeezed and at the same time he added more pressure into his fingers pumping in and out of me.

Then that hand disappeared from my throat and went up. “Open that pretty mouth for me, darling.”

It fell out right away and he placed two of his fingers inside. I sucked on them instinctively, he always had a weak spot for a good sucking on various places of his body.

Those fingers then stoped on my tongue and I moaned out loud when he starts to mimic the same rhythm on my tongue that he was using on my clit.

The same time his fingers lazily moved on my clit, it did the same on my tongue.

“Fuck,” I whimpered over his fingers, overwhelmed by how erotic this prick could make it feel witch such a simple little things.

And when I thought it couldn’t get any better, he entered my body with his cock and started to pump into me without any mercy, while in contrast kept the slow, lazy, torturing tempo on my bud and tongue.

“My name, Y/n, I went to hear it,” he grunted, his voice full of dirty demands.

And I obeyed. His name started to fall from my lips like a prayer, even though mumbled by his fingers in my mouth.

My arms reached behind me, wrapping my arms around his neck, trying to gain some stability to don’t fall forward by the force he was taking me with.

My undoing was when his cursed mouth began to kiss at my wings, rendering me senseless when my mind clouded with overwhelming pleasure, forcing me over the edge.

When we walked out of the shower, now cleaned and satisfied, smiling like, I almost had a heart attack at the sight that came across us.

“Cauldron that’s truly one hell of an ugly cat,” Rhys made a grimace and then leaned towards me and started to place kisses all over my wings.

“Rhys! You offended it!” I stared to laugh, even though I tried to sound scolding.

The cat seized both of us and limped away from the bathroom with quite an attitude.

“I will buy it pretty bowl and keep it full, that ought to make up for stating the obvious,” he dismissed the matter completely and kept the gentle assault at my wings.

With Rhys, I could feel so blissfully happy, that it was impossible to don’t forget about all the looming problems and dramas surrounding our difficult situation.

I trusted in Rhys. When he say he will rewrite the stars for us, he will do it, even if it means to travel through the space and time to get the Mother into a chokehold and force her to untie what she ties together.

Chapter Three

Tag-List: @j-pendragonx @stonerpersona

[mahalachives]

Thank you for writing my request for acotar fics. Really if I'm going to be honest I didn't expect you to write it so quickly. But wowww. Again thank you and would you like consider to write a azriel and human mate reader where she has like tablet as well as a telephone and earphones and she explains a technology to inner circle.

Title: Tech Support: Velaris Edition

pairing: azriel x human!mate reader

Hope you enjoy!

The first time Azriel saw you talking to yourself, he thought you were mad.

The second time, when you told him you were “on a call,” he genuinely started to worry about your sanity.

By the third time, you had pulled out what you called a tablet, and suddenly, the entire Inner Circle got involved.

And so here you were, seated in the House of Wind, facing a very skeptical group of Fae while Azriel stood protectively beside you, arms crossed but utterly amused.

You did not expect absolute chaos.

It started when you pulled out your phone.

“This,” you said, holding it up like it was the Cauldron itself, “is a cell phone.”

The room stared at the tiny glowing rectangle in your hands like it was a live bomb.

Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court, narrowed his eyes. “It’s…glowing.”

“Yes.”

Cassian unsheathed a dagger. “Kill it.”

“CASSIAN, NO—”

Azriel, standing protectively beside you, let out a suffering sigh as you shoved Cassian’s arm down. “It’s not alive, you battle-obsessed maniac.”

“Are you sure?” Amren drawled, unimpressed. “Because that thing hummed.”

“It vibrated—it’s a notification!” You waved your hand. “It’s how I get messages!”

Rhys leaned forward, smirking. “So, humans store voices in tiny glowing bricks now?”

“… I hate how accurate that sounds.”

Nesta arched a brow. “So it’s like a magical book?”

“No, it’s better.” You clicked on a video, and the screen moved.

Cassian screamed.

Nesta dropped her tea.

Amren nearly fell out of her chair.

Feyre’s jaw hit the floor.

Rhysand, High Lord of Velaris, the most powerful High Fae in existence, flinched.

Mor gasped dramatically. “IT’S POSSESSED.”

Azriel—your lovely, brooding mate—only sighed deeper, rubbing his temples like this was the worst day of his life.

“IT’S JUST A VIDEO,” you shouted over their horrified screams.

“IT’S A TRAPPED SOUL,” Cassian accused, pointing a trembling finger at the phone.

“IT’S NOT—”

Nesta hissed at the screen.

Feyre, looking way too concerned, whispered to Rhys, “Should we… should we free it?”

“IT’S NOT TRAPPED,” you nearly shrieked.

Azriel put a calming hand on your shoulder. It did nothing.

“This is normal for humans,” he explained, attempting damage control.

Mor, still clutching her chest like she had seen a ghost, muttered, “Humans are terrifying.”

You groaned. “Okay, forget the phone. Let’s move on to the tablet.”

More skeptical looks.

You turned it on, and Rhys immediately backed up.

“I hate this,” he muttered.

Cassian squinted. “Why is it so big?”

“It’s just a bigger version of my phone!”

Nesta looked at the screen, unimpressed. “Does it also hold souls hostage?”

“…It’s literally just for books, movies, and drawing.” You clicked a random sketching app and made a quick doodle.

Silence.

Then—

Cassian leaned in. “You—you’re making magic symbols—”

“I AM DRAWING.”

“WITH LIGHT,” Feyre gasped.

“WITH MY FINGER.”

Rhys looked between you and Azriel. “You mated with a sorceress?”

Azriel sighed even harder. “She’s not a sorceress.”

“She controls light magic,” Mor insisted.

“Oh my god.”

Nesta pinched the bridge of her nose. “I thought nothing could be dumber than Cassian.”

Cassian gasped, clutching his chest. “Nesta, how could you?”

“Okay,” you groaned. “Forget the tablet—here, let’s try earphones.” You plugged them in and played music. “Put this in your ear.”

Mor eagerly took one.

The second the bass hit, her eyes flew open.

“WHAT. IS. HAPPENING?”

She grabbed Cassian’s arm. “DO YOU HEAR THAT? IT’S IN MY HEAD—”

Cassian yanked it away like it was a venomous snake. “GET IT OUT—IT’S CURSING HER—”

Azriel looked like he wanted to jump out the nearest window.

Rhysand, ever dramatic, massaged his temples. “Mother above, why did I let her do this?”

Nesta, still sipping her tea, shrugged. “I think we should let them suffer.”

Cassian—who had immediately shoved both earphones into his ears—jumped to his feet.

“THIS,” he declared, “IS THE GREATEST THING HUMANS HAVE EVER CREATED.”

You smirked. “Told you.”

Cassian whipped around to Rhys. “BRO, WE NEED THIS AT RITA’S.”

“No."

“PLEASE.”

“Absolutely not.”

Cassian was already running. “I’M STEALING THIS—”

Azriel extended a foot, expertly tripping him.

Cassian ate the floor.

Azriel plucked your phone from his unconscious hand and handed it back to you.

You smiled up at your mate. “Thanks, love.”

Azriel sighed. “You’re never showing them the internet.”

[mxtantrights]

WORLDS APART III

Azriel thinks that human beings are so fragile. Strong, mighty, full of bravado and passion, yes. But also so close to death. These are the things he thinks about when he stands watch at your front door.

He thinks about this and going inside for once.

It's been two months. Two months of your nightmares, two months of him winnowing over and granting you protection you didn't even know about. Two months of not seeing you.

Cassian says he's becoming restless.

A bit more snippy during training. Zoned out at family dinners. His missions are completed more quickly and with more tact.

Azriel thinks he's going to lose his mind.

The sound of a branch snapping a few feet away grabs his attention. Azriel holds onto his daggers and looks into the darkness of the night. Waiting.

Another snap.

Then another.

Until he can see the red hair. Lucien.

Azriel sighs, "What are you doing here?"

Lucien puts his hands up in faux surrender.

"I came to pay a visit to my friend. Although Cassian did say to tell you that he broke your drinking record tonight." Lucien says.

Azriel says nothing to either of the comments. He puts his daggers back into their holsters and looks past Lucien. Silently wishing him away.

"What are you doing here?" Lucien asks.

"What does it look like?" Azriel barks back.

"I don't think you want me to answer that."

Azriel looks back at him, "It's not-"

"It's not what it looks like? Because it looks like you won't past the threshold because the human's inside. Does she know that you're even out here?"

Azriel shakes his head.

"Cauldron. Right. I'm leaving."

"I thought you were coming to visit her."

"She's sleeping. I'm not one to stick around in the dark."

Lucien winnows away. It makes Azriel wonder why he didn't winnow here in the first place. Cassian. He told him what to say because he knew he'd be here.

-------

When you and Felix wake up in the morning, you see it. A shadow that lingers in the very corner of every room in the cabin. Like it's following you.

At first it doesn't really bother you. You're not sure why. To anyone else it would be scary. But you've dealt with things like death and blood. A shadow? That was nothing.

Until later in the morning when you left with Felix into the city square to get some supplies and food. You could sense it following you, the shadow. Even though you could not see it anymore.

It made you think that maybe it wanted to be seen before, but in public it didn't. Something only you were supposed to see and no one else.

Which is why after getting what you needed, you took a trip to the apothecary. Where you knew someone. The front door's bell jingled as you pushed it open.

The older woman saw you first. She called out your name.

"Madja, it's good to see you." you smile.

She comes over and looks over your neck. Even though you've been doing good with it and the ointments she gave you to take care of it. Must be like breathing to her, to check up on her patients.

"What brings you in?" she asks.

"I just wanted to ask you if you know anything about shadows."

There's a moment where her face is completely still. Then she tilts her head to the side.

"Oh?" she says.

"There's one in my cabin. I'm pretty sure it followed me here, but it doesn't want to be seen." you explain to her.

She nods, "I know about shadows that do that."

"Is someone spying on me?" you ask.

"Hmm, more like keeping an eye out I think. I'll tell him to keep to himself." she answers.

"Wait, you know who it is?"

She looks at you, confused. Like you should know who it is too. She schools her face back to neutral.

"There's only one person with the ability to control shadows here in The Night Court." she replies.

You thought Azriel wasn't the only one who could do it. You were wrong. It could only be him. So it is him. He's using his shadows to watch you? Why?

You don't want to take more of Madja's time. You plaster on a smile even though your mind is swirling with questions.

"I'll see you around, Madja."

She smiles, "See you, take care now."

-------

A few nights later there's a thunderstorm. The rain comes down hard. Harder than you've ever seen it. Maybe that's why you're so attuned to everything around you. And why you notice the shadow that lurked in the corned of the cabin isn't around.

Your mind won't let it go. You toss and turn in your sleep. You haven't seen the shadow all day. Why disappear now? Its not like you just found out who it belongs to, that was days ago.

In a sleepy blur you decide to test your theory. You get out of bed and jog out of your room and to the front door. You rip it open, expecting to see nothing and no one.

Except there he is. Azriel. A bit drenched from the rain that wets the front porch of the cabin due to the wind. You'd know those wings anywhere. You took care of them.

He turns around slowly. Like a deer caught in headlights. You look up at him.

"Is this what you call a visit?" you ask.

He puts his hands behind his back, shakes his head, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"You can come inside," you start and realize that it might sound like an order, "if you want."

You open the door wider. He takes a cautious step inside. One foot then another. He looks around the cabin for a few moments. Then he steps inside enough for you to close the door behind him.

"How long have you been standing post at my door?" you question.

"Tonight?" he asks back for clarity.

Your eyes go wide, "Azriel, how many times have you done this?"

"Only since your nightmares started. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." he answers finally.

He stutters a bit. His head down, like in shame. You're taken back by his behavior. He's been guarding your door for months now? And his shadows have been watching you?

Why didn't he ever just come inside?

And how the hell did he know about the nightmares? You didn't tell anyone, not even Madja.

"How do you know about my nightmares?" you ask.

"I shouldn't. This shouldn't be happening, but I know. I know that during your first four hours of sleep you toss and turn and your heart pounds out of fear. And if you were fortunate enough to fall asleep before then you wake up screaming and thrashing." he stumbles out the words.

You take in the sight of him. He can't even look you in the eyes. But he knows such intimate details about your nights? He shouldn't know that. This was far beyond what you knew about magic and magical beings. How could he know how you felt?

"If you want me gone you can-"

"Look at me." you say and take a step toward him.

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I haven't looked you in the eyes in a while. I don't know what'll happen." he answers.

"Azriel." you take another step. You are just inches away from him but it feels like a whole universe.

"Please."

You can't even try to catch his line of sight with his head so low. Tentatively you reach up to his face. He doesn't move away or flinch from the sight of your hand.

Your two fingers land on his chin and you slowly move his head up His eyes off to the side, not daring to look at you. His cheeks are a bit red and his bottom lip looks red and bitten.

"Please what, Azriel?"

"You don't know how much you own me."

His words send a shiver down your spine and the hair on the back of your neck and arms up. You have the strangest feeling that he's not talking about what you think he's talking about. But you ask anyways.

"Because I saved your life? We're even now, since you helped save mine."

"It's not about that. Not really."

"So tell me what its about. Did you find the answers you were looking for?" you ask.

He shakes his head, "All the books, they don't speak about this. I don't know what to do about this. Us."

At that your eyebrows meet in the middle. Us? There is no you and Azriel. No matter how much you want there to be. You didn't want to push him. But this is...

"Maybe if you tell me what it is, I can help." you say.

His eyes finally slide over. They meet yours. You see the way his pupils dilate. Like actually grow wide. His lips part too. You watch in real time as he seems to unravel.

"I had to almost die in order to meet my mate." he answers.

Mate? You haven't really heard that term. Maybe once or twice and only as it relates to animals. Surely he's not talking about that, you think.

He seems to sense your confusion. So he finishes his thought.

"The love of my life."

What?!

You look away from him. Which is a mistake in hindsight because once you do, he takes a step back. Away from you. He hangs his head in shame.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have done this."

"Azriel. I invited you inside. I asked you about it." you counter.

He shakes his head, "No you don't understand. Being linked to me isn't a good thing. I bring death and pain with me wherever I go. I almost lost you before I even knew you were mine to have."

"So have me."

He wrenches his head up at your words. You see how his chest rises and falls rapidly. Maybe those weren't the right words in this very moment. You stutter a bit and see him look right at you.

"I just meant that we can talk. You can knock on my door and I'll let you in." you clarify.

Azriel slowly blinks. His eyes are taking you in you realize. What he said before. He hasn't looked you in the eyes in a while. You wonder if he's looking now because he doesn't know when the next time will be.

"You'll...let me in."

You nod, "Only if you knock."

He makes a face. One that you can't quite decipher. So you watch in confusion as he opens your front door and walks right through it. He closes it behind himself. You're left standing there wondering what the hell just happened.

-

As you lather up Felix in the bucket with soap, a knock comes from the door. You're half expecting it to be Lucien. He dropped off a basket of goods a few days ago and said he's be back for the wine.

So you wipe your hands on the back of your pants and walk over to the door. When you pull it open you don't find your red-haired friend. No, you find him. Azriel.

He's stiff. There's a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Some are missing petals and you suspect it's because he got them before he flew to get here. Which means he didn't use his powers and wanted to take his time to get here, as if stalling.

And he's not looking you in the eyes.

He clears his throat.

"I knocked."

You bite back the chuckle that rises in your throat. You open your door wider and invite him in.

"I heard. I'm just washing Felix a bit do you mind giving me a few minutes?" you as.

Azriel nods. His eyes don't catch yours as he steps inside. You close the door and jog back to your furry friend in the bathroom. You watch Felix track you across the room. He doesn't hate bathing like other cats, maybe it's because he's been around for a long time.

You bring the bucket of water over and bend down. You start cleaning him, softly and paying attention to any sensitivity he might have. He's not young anymore.

He must sense your thoughts because he hisses at that. You pull back and make a face. It's not like you said out loud. You were trying to be respectful after all.

Felix turns his head and looks the other way while you wipe him down. You laugh at that. He lets you keep going.

Once you're finished you carefully grab him out of the bucket. He already knows where to go, in front of the fireplace. He trots out of the bathroom without a word from you.

You clean up a bit and head back out to where Azriel is in the living space. He's still standing where you left him. His eyes happen to catch yours for a second, just a brief moment, but it's enough. You smile.

"It took you two weeks to learn how to knock?" you joke.

He sputters something. And you watch the sight in a bit of delight before you let him off the hook. You walk over and reach your hand out for the flowers.

"They got ruined on my flight here." he explains.

"I can fix it." you say raising your free hand over the flowers, concentrating on the growing petals.

Slowly the petals start growing out of the places where they used to be. You raise them to show Azriel. His mouth is agape. You forget sometimes that he doesn't really know all that you can do.

"That was just simple magic really." you comment.

"Do you have plans right now?" he asks out of the blue.

You look around the room, "No I was just going to start making dinner. Do you want help me?"

He nods once. You turn around and walk with the flowers in your hand to the kitchen. You can feel him follow behind you even though you didn't tell him to.

You open a cabinet and get an empty pitcher. There's a bit of a side step you make between Azriel and the sink. You fill up the pitcher with water and put the flowers in. Then you place the pitcher on the counter next to you.

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" you ask him.

Azriel seems stunned that you would ask. But really, if he is going to help you make it it's only fair that you ask if he wanted some. You watch his eyes dance around the room.

"I don't think--If I eat what you cook, even if I help, I don't know the rules about that." he says.

"There are rules? For mates?" you question.

He nods, "Yes. Once someone's mate cooks for them, and they eat the food, it's the acceptance of the bond."

You don't quite understand what's so wrong with that. You cock your head to the side in confusion. Trying to wrap your mind around what is possibly making him so nervous about eating what you're cooking.

"Usually followed by a sexual frenzy." he adds on.

"Oh! Sorry. You can help me cook but you don't have to eat. I didn't know." you apologize.

"It's okay. You didn't know." he says calmly.

You move over to the cabinet that holds some of the ingredients you'll need. You take them out one by one. The idea of a frenzy still on your mind.

"Am I your only mate?" you ask out of the blue.

You take a careful look over your side to see his face. He looks shocked. He takes a step closer to you.

"Yes. Having a mate isn't common. And having more than one would be very rare." he answers.

"As rare as having a non-fae as your mate?" you retort.

He shakes his head, "I only want one mate."

Your eyes widen. You turn back to the cabinet and focus on the ingredients that you need again. Even though your heart is fluttering inside of your chest.

"I only want you." he reiterates.

And at that you have to clear your throat or you're sure that you'll choke on air. You close the cabinet and move over to the cold storage you have for the meat. With both hands you lift up the cover and look for something to prepare.

"I understand you might not want me." he says.

The door of the locker slams down at the loss of your hands holding it up. You turn around and face him now. He's looking right at you. Like maybe every time you look away from him, he has enough courage to look at you.

"As low and undeserving you think of yourself, I don't think that of you." you state.

"Who would want me as their mate? I mean, look at me." he tries again.

"I am!" you declare.

He can't seem to tear his eyes away from yours. So you take the chance and meet him where he is. You take four steps to stand right in front of him. You can see him gulp.

"I could fall in love with you, and be your mate, if you wanted me to."

[wovendreamscapes]

In which Cassian finds out about Azris

This one was inspired by a fieldofdaisiies incorrect quote, all credit goes to her!

Cassian pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling through gritted teeth. He had faced war, trained Illyrian soldiers for centuries, and even survived Rhysand’s moods—but nothing had prepared him for this.

“Let me get this straight,” he said slowly, carefully enunciating each word as if doing so would force the universe to make sense.

Azriel, lounging comfortably on Eris Vanserra’s lap, smirked. “Good luck with that.”

Cassian’s eye twitched. His shadowsinger brother—the brooding, ruthless, emotionless bastard who barely tolerated touch—was currently reclining against the heir to the Autumn Court like he belonged there. Eris’ arm was draped lazily around Azriel’s waist, fingers idly tracing circles against his side. Azriel, for his part, was perfectly at ease, the picture of smug satisfaction as he sipped from a glass of wine, completely ignoring Cassian’s impending meltdown.

Cassian turned to Nesta, who sat beside him at the long dining table in the River House. “You’re seeing this too, right? I didn’t hit my head in training this morning?”

Nesta, who was barely concealing her own amusement, raised a delicate brow. “Oh, I see it. I just think it’s funny.”

Cassian muttered a curse, dragging a hand down his face. “Az.” His voice dropped to the no-nonsense tone he usually reserved for battle. “What in the Mother’s name is happening?”

Azriel took another slow sip of his wine before answering, his smirk never fading. “What does it look like?”

Cassian gaped at him, then at Eris, whose golden eyes gleamed with unholy delight. “It looks like you’ve lost your damn mind.”

Eris hummed, his grip on Azriel’s waist tightening. “You should be grateful, General. Your friend here finally realized what he wanted and took it.” He smirked, shifting slightly, and Azriel adjusted with him, their bodies moving like they’d done this a hundred times before.

Cassian’s brain short-circuited. Azriel was willingly moving with Eris. Not stabbing him. Not threatening him. Just… sitting on his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world.

This was the same Azriel who once burned an Autumn Court scout alive for looking at him wrong. The same Azriel who had spent centuries glaring daggers at Eris every time they were in the same room.

Nesta reached for her own glass of wine, watching the entire debacle unfold with an air of supreme entertainment. “I think it’s romantic,” she mused. “Enemies to lovers. Very dramatic.”

Cassian turned on her so fast his wings nearly knocked over a chair. “Nesta, be serious. This is Eris. Eris.”

Nesta only smirked, her steel-blue eyes dancing with mirth. “Yes, and?”

“And he’s a prick.”

Azriel gave a lazy shrug, entirely unconcerned. “So am I.”

Cassian spluttered, eyes darting between the two of them. “You—you hate him.”

Azriel met his gaze, an infuriatingly calm expression on his face. “Did I?”

Eris outright laughed, the sound deep and rich as he leaned his head back. “Oh, he did,” he said, grinning. “But hate is just misplaced passion, don’t you think?” His hand slid up Azriel’s spine, fingers pressing into the tense muscles between his wings. “And now? Not so misplaced.”

Azriel’s shadows curled around him in response, dark tendrils wrapping lazily around Eris’ wrist like living ink. A silent agreement. A claim.

Cassian felt his soul leave his body.

Nesta, completely unfazed, leaned her chin on her hand. “So, how long has this been going on?”

Azriel smirked against the rim of his glass. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Cassian groaned. “Yes, actually, I would. Because if this started more than a day ago, I need to reassess my entire understanding of reality.”

Eris looked positively delighted. “Two years,” he said smoothly.

Cassian nearly knocked over his chair. “Two years?!”

Azriel sighed. “Eris.”

“What?” Eris squeezed his waist. “They were going to find out eventually.”

Cassian gripped the edge of the table as if it might anchor him to sanity. “Two. Years.” He turned to Nesta in horror. “Did you know?”

Nesta sipped her wine, entirely unbothered. “Of course.”

Cassian’s jaw dropped. “Of course?! What do you mean of course?!”

Nesta shot him a look that clearly said he was being dense. “Cassian, Azriel started sneaking off to the Autumn Court more often. He stopped looking so murderous every time Eris’ name came up. He even started smiling more. Smiling.” She raised a brow. “And you thought that was just a coincidence?”

Cassian opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again, utterly lost for words.

Eris, smug as ever, pressed a kiss to the top of Azriel’s shoulder. “I, for one, think it’s adorable how oblivious he is.”

Cassian growled, pointing a finger at him. “You shut up.”

Azriel chuckled, the sound low and deep. “Come on, Cass. Did you really think I spent all my free time brooding in the shadows?”

“Yes!” Cassian threw his hands in the air. “That’s your thing! That’s what you do!”

Azriel gave him an amused look. “Turns out, I had better things to do.”

Cassian turned to Nesta in absolute betrayal. “And you let this happen?”

Nesta scoffed. “Let? As if I have any control over what Azriel does.”

Cassian groaned, rubbing his temples. “This is a nightmare.”

Azriel only smiled. A genuine, soft smile that looked so utterly foreign on his face that Cassian had to stare at it for a full five seconds before he could process what he was seeing.

Nesta reached over, patting Cassian’s arm with fake sympathy. “You’ll get used to it.”

Cassian shot her a withering glare. “No, I won’t.”

Eris chuckled, shifting slightly under Azriel. “I’m rather enjoying this reaction.”

Azriel smirked. “Me too.”

Cassian groaned again, looking to the ceiling like the Mother herself might grant him strength. “Rhys is going to lose his mind when he finds out.”

Azriel hummed, entirely unbothered. “Probably.”

Nesta, still sipping her wine, shrugged. “Oh, he already knows.”

Cassian blinked. “Excuse me?”

Nesta gave him a pitying look, as if he were a particularly slow student. “Cassian, Rhysand has been covering for him.”

Cassian stared, horror creeping into his expression. “You’re telling me Rhys knew before me?”

Azriel chuckled, clearly enjoying every second of this. “You were the easiest to fool.”

Cassian let out a long, suffering sigh, dragging his hands down his face. “I hate everything.”

Eris smirked. “Except me, apparently.”

Cassian growled.

Azriel just leaned back against Eris’ chest, smirk never fading. “Better luck next time, Cass.”

Cassian slumped against the table, utterly defeated.

Nesta patted his head. “You’ll live.”

Cassian groaned. “Unfortunately.”

Eris laughed, and Azriel—Azriel—tilted his head up, catching the Autumn prince’s lips in a brief, effortless kiss.

Cassian shut his eyes. He definitely needed a drink.

[berryz-writes]

It's always going to be you

Summary: You and Azriel spend less time with each other and soon it seems he spends more time with Elain- apologising and fluff

Azriel x reader

I watched, holding my breath as Elain let out a small laugh at something Azriel said, her hand coming up to rest on his arm. Did she need to do that? No, she probably didn't. But I let it go because she was getting better now. Her smiles were more frequent and if she found my mate funny then fine. I wouldn't be jealous about it.

Another week later and Elain and Azriel were walking the streets of Velaris. I had paused in my tracks to watch them, their heads bent together talking about something important it seemed. It felt like I hadn't gone shopping with Az in so long let alone have a nice conversation that lasted longer than a minute. They seemed comfortable together. Fine. As long as they were both happy there was no reason for me to jump to conclusions.

It was game night and Elain and Azriel had paired up. Yes, they were playing chess against each other but they chose each other and left me on the side lines, merely part of the audience. I wasn't even give a second glance. "Y/n? Aren't you going to play?" Cassian asked from where he was sat on the sofa, one arm around Nesta the other holding a glass of wine.

I shook my head "I'm tired. Maybe next time" I turned to look back at Azriel because like usual I was drawn to him. It seemed he was unaffected by our bond now because he hadn't even looked at me once throughout the entire day. The longer I stared the harder it was to fight back tears. I stood up and mumbled an excuse to leave, Nesta being the only one who listened to my made up excuse. I walked out the house and rubbed my hands together, my feet taking me to the bench I had sat on so many times. Luckily I was smart enough to grab hold of a thick shawl before leaving. The Sidra was as beautiful as always, lights glowing around the area, Fae spilling out of different bars across the street.

I pulled the shawl closer to me and tried to enjoy the sight in front of me rather than my mind going back to things I didn't want to think about.

Where are you?

Y/n? Are you okay? Where are you? Tell me where you are.

Sweetheart please. Are you allright?

Azriel's voice, panicked and full of fear in my mind. The spiteful thing to do would be to ignore him and build a barrier between the both of us but because I was never able to see or hear Azriel worry for so long I replied with

I'm fine

I went home for the night, enjoy yourself

I blocked him out. I didn't want to think about anything right now. I wasn't in the mood to talk to him.

Of course if someone asked if I still loved him I would have replied with a "yes" in a heartbeat. Maybe we just needed space. Or maybe I was being dramatic. It's not as if I had walked in on them kissing or something.

"Fancy seeing you here, y/n" Someone said. I had to blink away my sleepiness and try and find the source of the voice. It was Keller. A friend who I usually had lunch with when I was in town or needed someone to help me translate a piece of text.

I gave him a warm smile, his blonde almost silver hair shining in the street lamps.

"Is there a seat free?" He gestured next to me at the empty bench but before I could answer a loud thud was heard behind me and without having to turn around I could tell who it was. He must have hidden his scent because otherwise I would have known he was coming this way earlier.

"Apologies, but the seats taken. You should get going now" Azriel's voice was tight and full of anger, one wrong answer from Keller would result in things that were too gruesome too think of.

Still, he hesitated, looking between me and Azriel who was behind me and probably sending daggers at him.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Have a nice night" I gave him an awkward smile, trying to reassure him.

"Right. Enjoy your time." And with a nod "Shadowsinger" He walked away soon disappearing behind a corner. I didn't bother turning around and instead waited for Azriel to show himself. His footsteps were light as his form came into view, blocking the scene of the Sidra. He stood there for a good minute or so evaluating every inch of me with his piercing eyes. His shadows moved away from him, coming to brush against me as if they were checking if I was ok as well.

"Are you all right? Your not hurt are you?" His voice was soft, a great contrast to the tone he was using with Keller a second ago.

I sighed "Physically, yes"

He took this as a chance to sit down next to me, making sure there was a small distance between us. As if he wasn't sure what I wanted. I wasn't sure either. I wanted space but I also wanted him to wrap his arms around me and tell me everything would be alright.

"I didn't know what happened to you. I thought you had been taken. I thought I wouldn't see you again" Azriel's voice was quiet and almost broken in a way. I turned to look at him, to see if he was the same Azriel as a few weeks ago.

"What's happened to us?" I asked. I didn't know either but there was one thing I knew and that was something had changed.

As soon as the words escaped me, Azriel froze. His breathing coming to a stop and his eyes focused completely on me and my breathing. For the first time in my life I heard him stumble over his words "what...what do you mean?" He asked, his voice so quiet and full of worry. His shadows paused their constant movement around me and froze as well, their touch now cold.

I wrapped my arms around me, the shawl suddenly not doing much to block the cold out properly "Don't you feel as if we've grown apart? Like...maybe we aren't as close as we used to be?"

I couldn't look at him while saying that. Instead I let my head fall back so I could look at the comforting sight of the stars. Something that was always there. I felt a slight shift to my right where Azriel moved closer to me, his wings coming to wrap around me.

I looked at him, opening my mouth to thank him for the warmth but before I could say anything his shaky voice interrupted me "I love you. I will always love you. I am so sorry you felt as if I wasn't giving you enough time. I know you deserve more than I could ever-"

I put my hand up to stop him "It's not about that. It's about you always being with Elain. Tell me, Azriel. How long has it been since we've been shopping together? How long has it been since you've come home when I'm not asleep because it's the middle of the night? How long will this go on? This back and forth of me waiting for you while you go off with Elain doing who knows what"

I felt his heart beat increase with every word I said and as I let it all out I felt full of guilt. I was being irrational and dramatic. And Azriel didn't deserve it. We had been through so much and I was complaining about him not spending time with me

"sorry. I didn't mean that. I just...got carried away" I looked away from him. He looked heartbroken and I had done that to him.

A silent minute passed before Azriel broke it by picking me up and winnowing us to his room

"what? what are you doing?" I asked, disoriented from the winnowing. I sat on his bed, trying to get used to the soft lighting in his room.

He sat next to me and held my hands in his, warmth seeping through me "I could never cheat on you, sweetheart. I'd rather shred my wings than hurt you. You understand that...don't you? There is nothing between me and Elain and there never will be. I'm sorry you felt that way" He pressed a kiss to my hand, his eyes golden in the light. The way he looked at me made me think, how could I have doubted him?

"I know you aren't cheating. Of course I know that but why does it feel like you spend more time with her than me?" I ask quietly, afraid of the answer. Maybe it's because I've become boring now after all these years.

"My love, your the one who told me to help her. You told me spend time with her because she seemed to like my company. I did it for you, sweetheart. Don't you think I'd rather spend my time with my beautiful mate?"

His hand moved up to cup my cheek, brushing away a tear that had escaped. "It's always going to be you."

I leaned into his comforting warmth and let my doubts and fears wash away. "I'm sorry for doubting you, Az"

"you had every right to" He mumbled back, his arms now encircling me completely. I felt safe and wanted in his arms, like nothing could ever go wrong.

(KEEP IN MIND I LOVE ELAIN EVERYONE. my personal opinion is she should end up with lucien)- as usual not proof read

MASTERLIST