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serpentandlily · 11 months

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Arcane - Azriel x Reader

Azriel x DeathGod!Reader

Summary: Azriel never thought he’d find his mate, was convinced the Mother hadn’t even given him one because he was unworthy. That is, until he stumbles upon his mate while looking for the most unusual ally.

Based on this request.

Warnings: very brief illusion to past SA

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We’ve exhausted all our options,” Rhys declared, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m afraid another war is on the horizon. Koschei cannot be dealt with alone.”

“I don’t understand. The weaver and the bone carver were able to be killed,” Cassian interjected. “Why is it impossible for us to find a way to kill Koschei?”

“It took the might of the cauldron to defeat them,” Rhys explained.

“Well, then let’s ask Miriam and Drakon if we can use the cauldron,” Cassian replied, giving the obvious answer.

“It would be no use,” Feyre sighed. “I destroyed the book. We’d have no idea how to cast the spell the King of Hybern used that day. And we risk Koschei, himself, getting his hands on the cauldron.”

“There’s got to be another way,” Mor chimed in. “Something, someone, that could be as powerful as the sorcerer himself. He wasn’t the only God that found their way to Prythian.”

“Most of them are locked up in the Prison,” Rhys said. “And the Prison would not allow us to free any of them even if we wanted to.”

“Az, how has your search for Bryaxis been going?” Feyre asked.

“Not good,” Azriel answered honestly. “It’s like that thing disappeared from Prythian entirely.”

The room was silent for a moment until Amren sat up straight. “Wait, there is someone we could go to for help. As a last resort.”

Rhys lifted his head, staring at her with a heavy resolve. “No, absolutely not. It is too dangerous.”

“You said it yourself, we’re out of options!”

“What are you two talking about?” Feyre asked, looking between them.

Rhys let out a long breath. “Bryaxis…had a sibling. If you could even call her that. Someone who also came from wherever he slipped through from.”

“And why haven’t you mentioned this before?” Mor asked with a glare, crossing her arms.

“Because,” Rhys started. “Like I said, it’s too dangerous to get into contact with her. She’s…well, to be honest, no one really knows much about her. She keeps herself in a dark cave somewhere in the middle. Likes the darkness as much as Bryaxis does.”

“If no one knows much about her, then how do you know she’s dangerous?” Feyre asked. “Everyone was scared of Bryaxis until I went down there and was helped by it.”

“I’ve been told stories of her from my father,” Rhys explained. “How in the past, long before any of us were born, she could cause the fall of entire armies. Could level any court into rubble and dust.”

“And if that’s true, then doesn’t it speak to her character that she hasn’t done any of that? Maybe she is good of heart,” Mor suggested.

“We’re out of options, Rhys,” Amren said. “She might be our last hope.”

“Fine,” Rhys sighed. “I guess we better get ready for a trip to the middle.”

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“Alright, maybe this was a bad idea.”

Azriel glanced at Cassian to see him frowning as they stood in front of the dark cave. It was just him, Cass and Rhys who had come here to try and find this creature to ask for help. But it seemed Cassian was already losing his nerve.

“I tried to tell you,” Rhys muttered under his breath. “Azriel, can you scout ahead with your shadows?”

As soon as those words left Rhysand’s mouth, Azriel’s shadows darted ahead, trailing into the cave in a flurry. Azriel’s eyes widened as he was left standing completely bare, exposed. Not a single shadow had stayed with him, which was unusual. He tried to brush it off, tried to hide how uncomfortable he felt without them.

They waited expectantly but his shadows never returned. Azriel’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“I can’t call them back,” he said to his two brothers watching him. “They aren’t listening to me.”

“That’s…unusual,” Rhysand said, stroking his jaw.

Nothing more was said as the darkness in the cave seemed to grow and grow, almost extending out towards them despite the sun overhead.

“Who are you?”

The feminine voice was sensual yet sweet, playful almost. Nothing like he had been expecting. It struck something inside of Azriel, making his chest ache. Rhysand stood up straight, switching from brother to the High Lord in a mere second.

“I am Rhysand, High Lord of the Night Court,” Rhys answered, plucking a piece of lint from his coat. “If my sources are right, I believe you are y/n, sister of Bryaxis.”

“That I am,” the voice answered. “Why are you here? No one ever dares come here.”

Those words might’ve seemed like a threat, but her tone was light, curious.

“We’ve come to beg a boon,” Rhysand answered honestly. “There is another Death God who threatens war. We have been unable to stop his efforts.”

“Nobody has ever asked for my help before,” the voice said back in that same curious tone. “And what of Bryaxis. Will they help as well?”

“Bryaxis…Bryaxis was freed by my High Lady. We have been unable to find them.”

A step in the darkness. Another. Light footsteps came closer and closer to the edge of the cave. Azriel’s heart rate picked up, his hand falling to truth-teller. Cassian’s face was white and he looked ready to flee.

“You are afraid.”

It was not a question. Just a statement. But Rhysand answered it like it was.

“Bryaxis is made of nightmares,” he explained. “Something so terrifying to us. Perhaps you do not see it the same way but I imagine you are much the same and that is why we are…nervous.”

A laugh. A light, lilting laugh. Something sparked in Azriel’s chest.

“Me and Bryaxis are not made of the same thing, but opposite. A balance for our world,” the voice said. “Bryaxis is made of nightmares but I am made of dreams.

“Then why do you hide in the shadows?” The question came out of Azriel’s mouth before he even realized he was speaking. He could see his own shadows now, twirling in the darkness as if they were home.

“When we were captured, Bryaxis caused them fear so they were locked below the earth.” Her voice was sadder now, more serious and Azriel found himself hating that. “But I-I caused them…something different than fear. So they kept me locked in their bed chambers for decades, centuries, until I was able to escape. But then I learned those that did not desire me, feared me instead for the same reason. I was either caged or hunted. That is why I hide here.”

A shiver ran down Azriel’s spine. His face hardened at what she was implying. The fae who had captured the two Gods had locked one beneath the library and had used the other for…He felt sick to his stomach.

“If you are to help us,” Rhysand spoke, “I can promise you that we have no intention of keeping you locked up at all.”

“I do not trust the fae. Bind your words to magic and perhaps I will help you in return.”

“What is it that you want from us?”

It was silent for a moment, as if she were pondering.

“A place to stay. A place to live. Somewhere safe from being hunted or kept as a prisoner. A chance to live in this world, outside of this cave. To get to experience all that you do. That is what I wish for.”

Azriel knew that wish. Knew it all too well. For it was one he had for years while being locked in his father’s dungeon. So maybe that is why he found himself stepping closer to the cave, found himself unafraid of the darkness that had captured his own shadows.

Maybe that was why those words slipped out of his mouth before he could think of the repercussions, before he could be held back by one of his brothers.

“I will promise you that, y/n. I will promise you the opportunity to experience life outside of this cage, outside of the darkness.”

He could feel the heavy stares from his brothers on his back but he didn’t turn around, didn’t look anywhere but that darkness, even though he felt so exposed without his shadows.

Another footstep.

And another.

Until a figure began to emerge from the darkness, finally stepping into the light.

Azriel’s breathed hitched, his eyes widening in surprise. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it hadn’t been this.

Because before him now stood the most beautiful female he had ever seen. The type of beauty only a Goddess could possess. The type of beauty that had his head spinning, had his heart palpitating in his chest.

She smiled and he felt the whole world pause in that moment. It was a sight that would bring any male to his knees. A sight that could start wars.

She held out a small, delicate hand.

“Then I will help you, shadowsinger,” she said.

He mindlessly took her hand in his, shaking it as the sting of magic burned on both of their skin forming a bargain tattoo on the inner wrist. He looked down at it to see what the magic had created out of their promise to each other.

Swirls of shadows with a small lunar moth emerging at the end. A creature that sought light, finally leaving the darkness.

When he met her eyes again, those beautiful expressive eyes, he stumbled back a step. Stumbled as a golden thread unwound itself in his chest and pierced straight through the universe to the female standing before him.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The battle lasted thirty-seven days. Koschei was defeated, the females he had spelled were freed. Beron had been exposed for helping him and was killed by Eris finally, bringing a new leader to Autumn.

And things were finally at peace.

“What are these again?”

Your index finger poked at the spongy thing on your plate. It smelled sweet, good. And it was warm to the touch. You glanced up to see the shadowsinger watching you, amused.

“Those are pancakes,” Azriel answered with a chuckle.

“Pancakes,” you repeated, slowly, testing the word on your tongue. “I thought cakes were desserts. Not breakfast.”

“They are a bit different from cake. Made in a pan instead of baked in the oven, hence the name,” Azriel explained.

You hummed in response, taking a bite out of one of the pancakes. “Hm, just as sweet as cake.”

“I might’ve added a bit more sugar than normal to them,” Azriel said, rubbing the back of his neck. “To satisfy that raging sweet tooth of yours.”

Your cheeks heated, that ticklish feeling in your stomach came again. A feeling you had never felt before this month and still had yet to make sense of. It made something in your chest ache when you looked at Azriel.

“You made these?”

Azriel nodded. “Someone slept through breakfast with the others.”

Your cheeks turned even redder.

“You should’ve woken me up,” you muttered before stuffing more bits of pancake into your mouth.

“You deserve to rest, y/n.” Azriel was still watching you with that little glint in his eyes. “After everything, you deserve to rest.”

Since coming to Velaris to help with Koschei, Azriel had been the one to show you around, to help you learn the customs of the fae. He had so much patience for you and your endless amounts of questions.

The others had helped you as well, had welcomed you into their home with open arms, but there was just something special about Azriel. You felt some sort of pull towards him. As if the darkness inside of you called to his.

He was beautiful, more than any God or male you’d ever seen before. And beneath his icy exterior, he was sweet and kind. Thoughtful. Witty.

You enjoyed being with the others but you preferred times like this, when it was just the two of you. He was less shy, more at ease, when it was just you. And something about that made you happy.

Seeing him smile, even when it was just the faintest expression, brought you joy like you’ve never felt before.

And Gods, he brought out so many emotions you had not felt in a very long time, some you hadn’t even known you could feel. You had begun to crave his presence. Desire it. You wondered if he felt the same.

“Did you still want to come with me to the city today?”

Azriel’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. That’s right, Azriel had cryptically told you he needed to pick something up from Velaris today. When you had asked him what he was getting, he had refused to answer.

“Yes, I would like to.”

“We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”

An hour later, you found yourself in Azriel’s arms, flying down to the city. Your heart was pounding in your chest at how closely he held you, like he was afraid you’d suddenly fall from his arms. You kept your own arms around his neck, playing with the ends of his hair.

You still remembered the few hours after the last battle. The showdown with Koschei had left you depleted, covered in wounds, but otherwise okay. Still, Azriel had burst into your tent with panicked eyes and only seemed to be calmed when you had let him tend to you like a mother hen.

You didn’t know what to make of his behavior. But you did know that being in his arms made you feel safe.

“Can we get more of those honey mooncakes on the way back?” you asked, trying to distract yourself from the ticklish feeling in your stomach again.

Azriel laughed, his chest rumbling against your body as he tightened his grip on you. “That sweet tooth of yours really is insatiable.”

“I didn’t get to finish mine from last time,” you said in defense for yourself. “Cassian got to them before me!”

“Well, next time tell Cassian to go get his own,” Azriel said. His breath ghosted against the tip of your ear, causing a trail of goosebumps on your skin. “I buy them for you, not him.”

Once again, you found yourself with red cheeks and a swelling heart. Ever since he had discovered your sweet tooth, Azriel had a habit of leaving sweet treats out for you. At first, he found it hilarious that a Death Goddess craved pastries of all things. But now he found it just downright adorable.

When the two of you returned to the House of Wind, you found Feyre and Mor waiting for you. You barely got out a small goodbye to Azriel before they were pulling you away, telling you it was time to start getting ready for the night.

Tonight was Starfall. Something you hadn’t seen in centuries. The girls helped you get ready as day turned to dusk and finally night.

“Come on, we’re going to be late,” Mor giggled, leading all of you out of the room and up to the main balcony. You could already hear the crowd and the music.

You felt nervous as you reached the top, your eyes instantly darting around to find that one person you were always looking for these days.

Azriel stood with Rhysand and Cassian, dressed in all black, finely tailored pants and a matching coat. He looked handsome, yet still beautifully lethal. The darkness and light bounced off the elegant planes of his face, causing his hazel eyes to glow golden.

When he caught sight of you, those eyes widened and you felt them roam your entire body. You’d always hated being looked at in such a way, but not with Azriel. Never with him.

In fact, you found yourself getting heated under his stare.

Rhysand and Cassian moved to their respective mates, leaving you to greet Azriel alone. He took your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You are stunning,” he whispered. “Absolutely stunning. Happy Starfall.”

You blushed. “Thank you.”

Azriel gave you a rare smile that had your heart pounding. You peered at the crowd, watching the faeries enjoying their evening. Azriel stood with you, his fingers brushing against yours in a comforting gesture. He knew you weren’t the biggest fan of crowds, not when your presence was met with so many stares of both fear and desire.

“What are they doing?” You looked at the crowd of faeries that seemed to all be paired off, moving to the music from the band.

Azriel’s lips twitched, like they always did when you asked him a question like this. “They’re dancing.”

“Dancing,” you repeated. The word sounded familiar, like something you had known in a past life. You had spent so many years in that cave, you had turned into a mere shadow of who you used to be.

“Would you like to dance?”

Azriel had turned to look down at you, running a hand through his hair. His shadows curled around his wings.

“I don’t think I know how,” you whispered.

He held out his hand to you. “That’s alright. You can follow me lead.”

You bit your lip but decided to take his hand. He had promised you a chance of experiencing the world as it should be. He hadn’t led you astray yet.

He pulled you to the dance floor and you mimicked the other pairs, keeping one hand in his and placing the other on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around your waist, yanking you closer to him.

The music started up again and Azriel began to lead you through the dance. It was easier than you thought it would be or perhaps he was just a good lead. Still, it wasn’t long before you were smiling and being twirled around in his arms.

You danced like that for a while, basking in the feeling. The soft music, the laughter, the gentle faelights above you. You had never felt so alive. And it was all thanks to the male who held you in his arms.

A slower song came on, some pairs leaving the dance floor. You looked around in question until you realized the pairs who had remained held a more intimate position. You copied them, placing your arms around Azriel’s neck.

Both of his arms wrapped around you now, resting on your lower back.

“Is this okay?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear.

You nodded, letting him drag you even closer until your bodies were pressed together. The dress you were wearing was thin and you could feel all of him through it. His hard chest, his sculpted muscles.

Azriel swallowed audibly, swaying you gently to the music. You laid your head on his chest, letting him rest his chin on top of your head. Every inch of you that touched him was on fire.

You closed your eyes for a moment, just letting yourself feel this, embrace it. You’d never felt like this before. So warm and light. It felt like it was just you and him that existed.

That is until you opened your eyes. You suddenly felt overwhelmed as you noticed lingering stares. A lot of them. You felt uncomfortable under the weight of them.

“What’s wrong?”

Azriel had some sort of sixth sense when it came to you. He always seemed to know what you were feeling before you said anything.

“Everyone’s looking at me,” you muttered under your breath, staring up at him.

He raised his head, looking around with narrowed eyes. That caused most of them to look away, not wanting to risk the shadowsinger’s wrath.

“Come on,” Azriel whispered. “I know somewhere we can go that’s more private.”

He enveloped you in his shadows until you were stepping out of the darkness and into a rounded alcove somewhere else on the balcony. Vines dangled down from the roof, trailing down the pillars holding it up.

You stepped forward, placing your hands against the stone railing. You could see the crowd below, the one you had just been in. Still hear the music and still see the night sky. You turned to face Azriel.

“Thank you,” you said. “I-I just hate it when they stare. Like I’m some weird creature.”

Azriel stalked forward until he was right in front of you, so close you had to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes.

“They don’t stare at you because they think you’re weird,” Azriel replied. “They stare at you because you are beautiful.”

His hand rose and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat. Your mouth parted to say something but a roar of cheers cut you off. You whirled around to see thousands and thousands of stars beginning to soar through the sky.

Your mouth dropped open. It was more beautiful than you remembered. The stars kept falling and falling, like cascading fireworks. So bright and breathtaking. You couldn’t stop the small laugh that escaped your mouth, standing on your tippy toes to lean over the balcony as if you’d be able to reach the stars.

An arm circled your waist and Azriel’s front was pressed against your back as he held onto you.

“Careful,” he whispered in your ear, scared you were going to tip right over the edge and fall down the steep mountain.

“So beautiful,” you murmured, staring up at the stars. “Oh, it’s so much better than I remembered it from all those years ago.”

“It never stops amazing me,” Azriel said. “No matter how many times I watch it.”

You both watched in silence for a little longer, letting the music and laughter and cheers fill the space. Eventually, you turned in his arms, now pressed against the railing.

“Thank you,” you said again, “for bringing me here.”

“Anything for you,” Azriel whispered, raising a hand to rest on your cheek. His eyes were filled with a reverence that stole your breath away.

A brush of magic zipped by in the air and you gasped, raising up your wrist. The tattoo was gone. The bargain had been fulfilled. You had defeated Koschei and Azriel had given you the opportunity to live a life more than you had dreamed. That chance at life was in your hands now.

“The tattoo is gone,” you said, grasping his arm and pulling back his sleeve.

Your eyes widened to see his tattoo still there. The lunar moth emerging from the swirls of shadow.

“Wha—”

“I got it tattooed,” Azriel cut in. “Permanently.”

You glanced up at him in question. “Why?”

“Because I always want a reminder of what I promised you,” he said, his thumb stroking your cheek. “What I still promise you, y/n. A life worth living. I want to continue showing you the world, to be there when you experience new things.”

You were speechless. Completely, utterly speechless.

No one had ever shown such devotion to you, such care and love. Your heart swelled up, your chest ached.

“Azriel,” you stuttered out. “I-I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he replied. “I was trapped in the darkness once too. I know what that’s like and I never want you to fall back into it. I don’t need anything from you, just the chance to be there with you while you learn, while you feel.”

Something was building inside of you, building and building until it was ready to break out. You rubbed at your chest, at the unusual feeling.

“I feel this…I feel this thing inside,” You said, gesturing to your chest. “Do you know what this is? Do you know why I feel this way?”

Azriel grabbed your hand and placed it on his chest, in the exact same spot yours ached.

“It is the mating bond,” Azriel answered, softly. “I feel it too. Right here. I have since the day I met you.”

His shadows swirled around like they had been waiting for this. You felt your own darkness rise in response until the two had joined together, watching together from the dark crevices.

“A mating bond,” you repeated.

Something snapped the moment you said it out loud. As if a question you had been asking your whole life had finally been answered. A gold thread was woven between the two of you, a beacon of light in the darkness. A place for that moth to call home.

You gasped looking back up at Azriel. Now that you recognized the bond, it grew more taut. You stumbled closer to him, fisting his coat in your hands.

“A mate,” you whispered. “You're my mate. I..I didn’t even know Gods could have mates.”

“Say it again.” Azriel’s voice was as dark as the shadows. A shiver ran down your spine.

“Huh?”

“Say it. Say that I’m your mate again.”

“You’re my mate,” you whispered, looking up at him through your lashes. “My mate.”

A quiet whine came from the back of Azriel’s throat that sent heat between your legs. Your eyes widened. A muscle in his jaw clenched. The air around you was charged and you felt like you had been set on fire.

“And you are mine,” Azriel growled. “My mate.”

His possessive tone only made that heat grow. Your lips parted, a small breath leaving your lungs. His eyes glanced down to your lips, hungrily. You gave him the smallest dip of the head, the permission he was waiting for.

Azriel surged forward and crashed his lips against yours. You stumbled, your backside hitting the stone railing behind you. You met his vigor with your own.

His lips were soft and warm. And his kiss felt like heaven and hell all mixed in one.

He groaned as you deepened the kiss, tilting your head back to give him more access. You yanked him closer, wanting to feel him everywhere. You never craved someone as much as you craved him.

His tongue swiped your bottom lip and you opened for him, letting him claim your mouth. His scent was intoxicating, he tasted like pure sin. You could drown yourself in him.

Your hands trailed up from his chest to circle around his neck. His own hands were holding you by the waist, pulling your hips into his. They traveled down your thighs until he was lifting you up, seating you on the stone railing, never pulled away from your kiss.

You parted your legs, letting Azriel step even closer as he finally pulled away, trailing kisses down your jaw to your neck. You whimpered at the feeling of his canines grazing the sensitive skin.

His nose traced the column of your throat before he rested his forehead against yours. You were both panting, both completely lost within each other.

“Wait,” Azriel breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut for a second. “I got you something. I don’t want to forget to give it to you.”

Because he would. He would forget his own name as long as the sweet scent of your arousal filled the air. Would forget the whole world existed if you kept staring at him like you were.

He pulled a small black box from his pocket, handing it over to you.

You opened it, gasping at the beautiful ring displayed inside. It was made of gold with a mesmerizing amethyst gem in the shape of a teardrop, accentuated by crescent moons on both sides and tiny stars.

“Azriel,” you breathed out. “This is beautiful.”

A small smile ghosted his lips.

“May I?”

You held out your hand and he pulled the ring out of the box before sliding it onto your ring finger. It was the perfect fit. You admired it, twisting it under the faelights to see the gem glow.

“It’s perfect,” you sighed.

“I had it made just for you,” Azriel said. “It’s what I had to pick up in the city today.”

“I-I really don’t know what to say, Azriel.”

Azriel rested his forehead against yours. “Just say it again. Tell me you feel this too. I’ve been searching for you for over five hundred years now and I just need to hear you say it. Again and again. Until I can wrap my head around it. Until I realize I’m not dreaming.”

You smiled, lifting up to press a small kiss against his lips. Your heart fluttered in your chest at his words, at the realization of why exactly the bargain had been fulfilled. You had asked for someplace to be safe, for a home, a chance to live. Azriel was giving you all of that and more.

“You are my mate. And I am yours,” you murmured against his lips. You pulled back to look him in the eyes. “All I’ve ever wanted was to find somewhere to call home. Being with you, being in your arms—that feels like home to me, Azriel. The one I’ve been looking for my whole life.”

Azriel’s eyes searched yours, as if he was trying to find the lie in your words. But there was none. Of course there was none. You were falling in love with him.

“Does this mean you want it?”

“It means I want you. I want all of you, everything.”

Azriel smiled and the sight nearly blew you away. You giggled as he held you close to him, buried his face in the crook of your neck. He kissed your throat once, twice.

“Then I think we’re due for a long vacation,” he murmured against your skin.

You knew what he was referring to. The frenzy that would come with this. Just that thought alone caused a tantalizing ache between your thighs.

“I think so too,” you whispered back as Azriel pressed kisses up your neck and jaw.

He held your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your skin as he stared into your eyes. His gaze was filled with so much promise, so much love. And then he kissed you again and everything felt right in the world. You were home.

#acotar #azriel #fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel fic #bryaxis #request

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bat-boys · 6 months

Text

forever, my love

pairing: Azriel x fem reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+, mentions of battle and war, references to depression, smut (fingering) but it's romantic, angst but also fluff.

summary: you and Azriel had seen many battles over the centuries but when something goes wrong and has a lasting impact on you, Az promises to take care of you.

a/n: thank you so much for the love on the first fic! here's another one! I promise next time I'll write something happier haha, suggestions are welcome! I hope you enjoy.

The cruel, unyielding symphony of battle swelled in you as you continued to swing your sword at the enemies in front of you. Grunts of pain and screams of frustration left your lips as you continued to carve a path through the soldiers in your way, desperately trying to hold the line as Cassian had commanded.

Your body moved automatically, thanks to the centuries of muscle memory drilled into you from the intense training and the many battlefields you had found yourself on during your long life. In recent decades, you may have taken a step back from helping to command the Night Court armies and turned your attention to training the next legion of warriors and aiding your spymaster in more covert missions. Still, your body would always remember the steps needed in battle. It would never shrink from charging head first.

Once, you had been told you were beautiful to watch in battle—second only to Cassian himself as you danced your way through enemy hordes. But now, as you cut through another bottleneck of soldiers, you could only focus on keeping yourself alive, so you were extremely exhausted.

Step, swing, push, slash, pivot, hit.

As you managed to gut the last soldier in front of you, you allowed yourself a small moment of reprieve to collect your thoughts and take a gulp of air. The sound of battle raged around you, and you could faintly see your friends and allies around you, diligently fighting for a future you had only just battled for a mere handful of years ago. You sent a pulse down that precious thread, tucked deep within your heart and nodded your head in relief when you felt a responding pulse from the male on the other end. Alive. He was still alive. That's all that mattered at the moment.

You heard a shout close beside you and watched an Illyrian soldier, who had been grounded due to semi-shredded wings, fight off a group of soldiers starting to swarm around him. Taking a deep breath, you sheathed your long blade and palmed the knives strapped to either thigh.

Winnow, slash. Winnow, stab. Winnow, swing. Your High Lady herself had taught you this particular move after you had seen her yourself face enemies from a different war, a different conflict. You kept the image of your friends smiling at Feyre as she had embarrassingly walked you through how she did it, blushing furiously at your instance in teaching you at the forefront of your mind, and you continued to dance to the sound of the battle's symphony.

That was the future you continued to fight for, and you were determined to protect it.

…

Your entire body heaved as you shoved your blade through the chest of the last soldier in front of you. The sounds of battle were quietening and dying out as the last of the enemy horde were tied up or killed.

A groan left your lips as you yanked your blade free and used the last of your power and strength to winnow to the edge of the battlefield. You stumbled as you landed, cursing yourself for letting your power drain so thoroughly during battle. Az would chastise you about that later. Speaking of which…

Where are you? You sent down the bond, waiting for the familiar calm voice to reach your mind. A frown fell on your face as the minutes stretched past, and you didn't hear a response from him.

Az?

You refused to panic just yet. While this was unusual, you knew the moments after a battle was the most crucial for a spymaster as he gathered up defeated enemies to spirit them away for interrogation. He was probably just busy, you reasoned with yourself.

But a small part of your brain also whispered that he always kept the precious channel between you both open and always responded when you called.

You trudged through the mud towards the huge fortress in front of you. It may have been dilapidated and crumbling, but it provided a place where Rhys could gather his allies and forces and not be constantly caked in dirt and mud from his war camp. Once, it had probably been beautiful, home to some illustrious High Fae family, but now it was home to tired soldiers and had clearly seen much better days.

Azriel. You tried again to reach your mate through the bond, your heart thundering louder in your chest when you didn't receive a response. This time, you stretched your consciousness along that bridge…and slammed into a cold stone wall on the other end. Panic began to claw up your throat, but you refused to give in. He was probably busy with Rhys or Cassian; you desperately tried to reason with yourself as you sheathed your heavy blade into the scabbard strapped to your back and walked up the stone steps to the bustling entrance of the fortress.

"Injured that way, please!" You heard the familiar voice of your High Lady directing her people from inside the entrance. She turned around, and you saw her face relax in relief as she spotted you, "Y/N. Oh, thank the cauldron, you're alright."

Feyre was wearing her Illyrian leathers, her hair windswept and looking just as tired as you felt. She walked towards you, and you hugged her tightly, grateful to see one of your dearest friends safe and sound. You gently manoeuvred around the bow strapped to her back as she hugged you back just as fiercely. Much to everyone's surprise and yours and Rhys' amusement after the war with Hybern Feyre had mastered the notoriously tough Illyrian bow - why anyone doubted her after her past in the human realm you were still confused by. You had seen her sweeping over the battlefield today and dispatching enemies, saving your life more times than you cared to admit. Her flying wasn't strong enough to join in with the Illyrian legions yet, but she had become invaluable on the battlefield once again.

"You looked awesome up there today." You both grinned at each other, warriors recognising each other, "where is everyone?"

"Amren and Mor are in the war chamber, exhausted but ok. Cassian was dropping off a soldier to the hospital wing."

"Az?"

"I thought he was with you?" A quick shake of your head had her face falling, "Ok, he's probably busy with clean up - let me see if Rhys can reach him."

"Thank you," you whispered, and she squeezed your shoulder and kissed your cheek before going back to directing people coming through the entrance.

You jumped as you felt a bigger, wider hand fall on your shoulder but relaxed when you turned to see Cassian grinning down at you. Not the Illyrian warrior you were desperate to see but still a fucking welcome sight.

"You saved our asses out there, as usual, tiny angry one." You rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you hundreds of years ago as you let him pull you into a bone-crushing hug.

"Glad to see you survived another battle, General, and without getting yourself torn to shreds."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up you." He teased as he gently pushed your shoulder. You may be Az's right-hand woman with his spy network now, but you were Cassian's second in command first. A formidable warrior whose name struck fear into your enemy's hearts, renowned for being utterly ruthless in combat and undefeated. How long ago it now felt when you and Cassian had first led the armies in that war hundreds of years ago.

"Have you seen Az?" You hated how quiet your voice sounded, but you struggled to keep the panic at bay.

"No," Cass frowned, "is he still out there?"

"I don't know, I can't reach him." You whispered, and immediately you felt Cassian shift, ready to head back out there and find his brother - could see the panic that settled in his eyes at the thought of finding him dead on the battlefield.

"Let's not panic yet. We'll go find Rhys, and we can set up a patrol-"he continued to talk to you, laying out a plan before you, but you couldn't hear him. Couldn't hear over the sound of your own panic as you tried to not give in to the fear that was eating away at your heart. You absolutely refused to even think for a minute that he was dead. But why was the bond cold? Why hadn't he gotten in touch, and why hadn't anyone seen him since the battle ended?

You turned your head to the side, ready to throw up the small amount of food you had choked down earlier, when-

Y/N! You froze as you heard a familiar roar and couldn't place if it was something you had heard echoed around the stone room or through that precious bond you shared.

Immediately, you turned from Cassian toward the sound of that shout, and your knees nearly buckled when you finally spotted Azriel walking through the fortress's entrance, bathed in his shadows.

His eyes were wild as he scanned the room, looking for you. His hair was matted to his sweaty forehead, blood coated his face, and he was stalking forward with a slight limp. But he was alive. Alive.

"Az." You had barely whispered his name, but you watched as his eyes snapped to you, and something broke in his carefully carved facade as his gaze took you in. Pure, undiluted, raw relief settled on his face as he realised you were still here, unhurt and standing.

Sobbing, you left your friend behind and ran towards your mate. He just stopped where he stood and held his arms out, catching you as you barrelled into him. He rocked ever so slightly back as he caught you, a testament to the exhaustion seeping through his body, but you felt that primal part of you that had been thrashing around your heart ease as his arms circled around you tightly and he buried his head in your hair - breathing you in.

"I thought I had lost you." You sobbed as you pushed your face into his neck, breathing in that comforting smell of night-chilled mist and cedar.

"I know, baby, I know." His beautiful, scarred hands gently stroked down your blood-soaked and matted hair as he continued to mumble, "I'm here. I'm safe. We're safe."

"What happened?" you asked as you pulled away ever so slightly from his body, letting your feet hit the unforgiving stone floor. Azriel's face was so tender, so soft, as his hands came up to cup your face. You watched, giving him a minute to scan your face for any injuries. A sigh left his lips when he noticed that you were largely unharmed apart from the usual cuts and scraps from battle.

"Faebane," he muttered darkly, and you gasped. "One of the soldiers had some and threw it on my face when I got close. Clearly, they haven't got much, and it's a diluted solution leftover from the war with Hybern as it cleared quite quickly, but still…this is something we now have to factor in."

"I couldn't feel you down the bond." Your voice hitched.

"I couldn't feel you either, sweetheart, I didn't know if you still breathed. I was so scared." Another sob slipped through your lips, one of sadness but also one of relief as you gripped his Illyrian leathers and pulled him closer - unable to stand any distance between you. You rose up on your shaky legs and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss wasn't sweet or tender; it was demanding and all-consuming. It was a kiss between two mates who had been terrified that after their years of searching, they had lost each other. You felt the rumble of Azriel's moan as you tilted your head to get better access to his lips. His hand reached up to cup your head to hold you in place as he licked into your mouth, and his arm snapped around you as your legs finally gave out and caught you before you sank to the floor.

You broke away gently, not going far as you rested your foreheads together. Your bodies heaved as you sucked in air for what felt like the first time since the battle ended. You closed the distance again to press your lips to his again, once, twice, thrice.

"I can't do this anymore, Az." You whispered, tears slipping down your face. Tears that Azriel captured with his thumbs as he looked at you with such devastation, "the wars, the battles, not knowing whether our friends are alive, not knowing if you are still alive. I have never felt so old."

"I know, sweetheart. I know."

You both sighed as you felt the soldier hovering near you, waiting to catch your attention. Once, you would have known every soldier's name, but now you just had a vague recollection of his face. "Azriel. Y/N. I'm sorry to interrupt, but Rhysand has requested your presence."

Az pulled away slightly to nod at the soldier, who offered you both a respectful salute before leaving. You felt his scarred hand drift down your arm to grip your hand. You felt his squeeze, and you squeezed back, "Come on, love, let's go get this over with, and then let me take care of you."

…

The fortress was quieter now, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for the next attack; the next moment, you would all be dragged out onto the battlefield again to face your enemies. You and Az had been stuck in meetings for hours after that initial reunion, and you had felt so hollow as your friends recounted what they saw throughout the day, the tactics the enemies were using and how you stood a chance at defeating them once and for all if you hold strong. You hadn't let go of Az's hand the entire time, only letting go once he had told his story about the faebane and he had seen tears slipping down your cheeks again and had pulled you into his arms.

A sadness clanged through your chest as you watched all of your friends that afternoon once the allies from other courts had left for their own war camps. Even through the exhaustion, the court of dreamers was still fighting, even though you had all been on the battlefield in a different war only a handful of years ago.

Azriel had made good on his promise. The minute Rhys commanded you to rest, Azriel gripped your cold hand and pulled you towards the room down the hall you were sharing. Immediately, he had asked a passing soldier to grab you a plate of food, something warm, before strolling into the room and firmly closing the door behind him. With such gentle hands, he had taken your frozen body and sat you down on the impressive four-poster bed in the centre of the room, your body sinking deeply into the comfy mattress.

He firmly pressed a loving kiss to your forehead before moving away to stoke the fire that someone had forethought to start while you were in meetings. Once satisfied, he quickly looked back over his shoulder at you - to check you were ok - before moving into the expansive bathing chamber. You could hear his footsteps on the tiled floor and the water gushing out of the taps into the large bathtub, but you couldn't stop the fear from clawing up your throat. Panic began to settle in again because he was out of sight.

What your enemies would think at the mighty Y/N reduced to this quivering mess.

Just as you couldn't take the roaring in your head anymore, at the nausea swirling in your stomach, and were about to get up to run to his arms again, Azriel stepped back into the room. You must have been shouting down the bond again because he had a soft, sad look on his face.

"I'm here, sweetheart." A whimper left your lips as you flew from the bed into his arms again, unable to get enough of the feeling of him, of being safe with him. His hand skated up and down your spine again, mumbling soothing words and pressing his lips into your hair: "I've drawn you a warm bath; come on."

You hadn't realised how much you had been shivering or how long you had been cold until the idea of settling into warm water felt so appealing. He smiled at you as he took your hands and guided you into the large bathing chamber. The bathtub sat in the middle of the room, large enough for not only you but also to accommodate wings, you realised. A soft smile fell on your lips at the thought.

In a comfortable silence that you and Az had always been able to enjoy, he gently began to unbuckle your damp and blood-encrusted leathers. With slow, methodical movements, he pulled the material from your body before throwing it into a basket in the corner of the room. You watched, your breathing shallow as Az ran his soft fingers up the exposed skin of your arms before hooking under the strap of your bra and removing it carefully from your body. Only then did his fingers skate down the soft valley of your breasts, over your abdomen, before slipping underneath the waistband of your underwear and slipping them down your thighs. Az had seen you in every state and had marked every inch of your skin with his lips and tongue, but this moment, him undressing you as you tried desperately to keep yourself from shattering, was the most intimate thing you had shared. It was warm and sweet, flecked with starlight.

That same warm smile was still on his lips as he took your hand and guided you into the warm water in the bathtub. An appreciative groan left your lips as your feet, legs, and body were submerged in comforting, warm water.

You turned around and grinned at your mate as you watched him unbuckle his own leathers and shuck them off his body. You couldn't help gazing appreciatively at his body, that body you also knew as well as your own: the proud contours of his shoulders, the toned muscles of his arms, his chiselled abdomen, the thick, powerful thighs. He truly was sculpted by the gods themselves.

Az silently padded over to the bathtub, slipping into the warm water himself before resting against one end and gently slipping his arm around your waist to pull you against him - your back pressed tightly against his chest.

With a gentleness that you know would shock so many people, he reached to grab the washcloth and soap from the side before he lathered them up and softly washed the mud and blood from your body. He took his time, kneading his hands into your aching muscles. He even undid your tattered braid and carefully washed the blood and dirt from your hair. The moment was so loving and beautiful after what happened earlier in the day that you couldn't help the tears that silently slipped from your eyes and tracked down your cheeks.

Once you were both clean, he pulled you flush against his chest again, letting you lean against him with your eyes closed as you enjoyed the feeling of being this close to him in the warm water. You idly traced the scars on his hand underneath the water where it was resting against your stomach whilst his other hand slid up and down your thigh, over your hip and up your body.

"I love you, Az." You whispered into the soft silence that had settled between you.

"I love you too, baby." You felt him press a kiss to your temple.

After today, after the horrors you had seen, after the panic that had coursed through your veins, you needed to feel something more. He wasn't close enough; you needed to feel him. Without saying a word, you lifted your free hand to gently grip the hand that was trailing up and down your body, stopping it in its lazy movements to slowly place it closer to that now throbbing part of you at the apex of your thighs.

"Sweetheart?" He questioned quietly. You could sense through the bond his willingness to touch you and feel his want with the way his erection was pressed against your lower back. But he needed to check that you really wanted this and that he wouldn't overstep some line, especially after today.

"Please, Az. I need you." You whimpered as you felt his slender fingers skim along your inner thigh.

"Relax, sweetheart, let me make you feel good." He rumbled against you as he gently began to press kisses under your ear, at that sweet spot he had found on that first night all those years ago. Your chest heaved as you felt his calloused fingertips trace up your thigh, over the curve of your hip, and along your bikini line before sensually slipping down to trace your slit.

A soft hiss escaped your lips at the feeling of his fingers so close to where you needed him most, a whimpering, "Please," leaving your lips as he chuckled behind you. His breath ghosted over the shell of your ear and caused a shiver to run down your spine.

"I have worshipped your body for centuries, love," Azriel murmured, his strong nose nudging the side of your head so he could begin placing open-mouthed, hot kisses down your neck, "and I never get tired of hearing those noises you make when I touch you."

You whined softly when Azriel moved his hand, but it was quickly silenced when you felt him suck on the soft flesh between your neck and shoulder as his strong hand gripped your thigh to move it to the outside of his so he had better access to you.

One of his slender fingers returned to your centre and traced your slit once again before gently swirling around that bundle of nerves. A curse ripped from your lips as your hips bucked at the contact, and another primal chuckle rumbled up Azriel's chest at your delicious reaction.

Azriel continued to swirl his finger ever so gently over your clit, every now and then applying the smallest amount of pressure and causing a sharp cry to leave your lips as white-hot pleasure shot up your body. It wasn't enough; he was teasing, and you needed your body to shatter in a way you were familiar with.

"Use your words, love. Tell me what you need." You could practically hear the smirk in his voice, and if you weren't wound up so tightly, you might have called him out on it.

"Your fingers, Az. Please." You whimpered.

"Because you asked so nicely." He mumbled into your skin as he gently slid one finger into your core. A sharp cry left your lips at the feeling of those scars creating the most delicious friction against your walls.

He set a slow but deep pace as he pumped his finger inside you, his thumb still drawing figures of eight on your clit. You could feel the pleasure building inside of you, your toes curling as you felt Azriel taking you higher and higher. His hand that you had been gripping, resting against your stomach, slid up your body to cup your breast. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he expertly rolled your nipples between his fingers and tweaked them in the way he knew you liked. You could feel that familiar crest of your orgasm approaching, and he had barely touched you. So expertly knew your body. You threw your head back against his shoulder, unable to do much but go limp against him.

"I love you so much, Y/N." He whispered, and you turned to face him and saw that raw emotion on his face again, an emotion that mirrored yours. As he slipped another finger inside you, curling his fingers to reach that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you reached up to grip his hair and press your lips to his.

You felt him grin against you as you kissed him, your hips undulating and rolling against his fingers to meet his lazy thrusts. The kiss was full of teeth and passion, and you felt the rising tide of your pleasure as you writhed against him. A cry left your lips as you felt yourself reaching the top of the wave, your mind turning foggy and hips bucking sloppily as you felt your orgasm approaching.

"Let go, love, cum for me." His words, whispered lowly in your ear, his tone dripping lust and awe, and the soft thrust he gave behind you that had you feeling how much he was enjoying seeing you like this, caused that band in your body to snap and the pleasure he had been slowly building crest and shatter. Pure, white, hot pleasure sparked throughout your body, sending every nerve-ending alight as your orgasm washed over you. Chants of his name left his lips as your back arched and your hips thrashed as he continued to pump his fingers deliciously inside you.

After what felt like hours, the wave of pleasure began to subside and be replaced with a bone-deep satisfaction. A sigh left your lips as you slumped back against your mate, his arms catching you - as they always did - and pulling you close to him. You felt Azriel mumbling your name whilst pressing soft kisses to your temple, cheek and jawline.

"Rest, love. There will be time for more later. I promise." It was that promise you clung to as you rested against your mate and let your body relax in the cooling water of the bath.

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grandwretch · 2 years

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concerned about snow white and her legion of undead in a narrative about how death and endings are good and necessary

#shut up az #i just can't trust having this many allies in a horror game #neverafter

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ladylokilaufeyson5 · 6 months

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Where The Shadows Dance - The Proposition (i)

Bodyguard!Azriel x AutumnDaughter!Reader

CHAPTER I: The Proposition

SUMMARY: Beron has invited the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court to spend a week in the Autumn Court. Azriel and the rest of the Court of Dream believe he has ulterior motives, and they are correct - but these motives come as a surprise.

WARNINGS: Um. Misogyny. love that for us (i hate the autumn court). swearing (the f-word (as in fuck)), y/n has daddy issues (bc beron is a cunt) and uh... i haven't read acotar in ages so apologies for any OC characteristics and forgetting everything about the autumn court. but i did read HOFAS recently so hopefully az isn't too out of character. also tw: beron

NOTE: so obviously Y/n is the daughter of the autumn court. we know they have red hair BUT i want this to be as less oc as possible so y/n has your colour hair and u can make up ur own story about why but mine is that she's 'rebellious' (as you'll see later on) and just dyes her hair. also special thank you to my moots @icey--stars and @fieldofdaisiies for proofreading my work! i love you guys<3

WORDS: 2.7K

Azriel glowered at the male sat across from him. Eris either didn't notice or pretended he didn't care as he reclined in his chair, one arm over the back and looking for all the world he was in his own home, rather than the Court Of Nightmares.

"Eris," Rhys drawled, "if you have any information to help us with this meeting with your father, we would appreciate it immensely."

The High Lord of the Autumn Court had invited the High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court to his castle for a week, as a gesture of good will, and an attempt to strengthen their bonds. Of course, the court was suspicious of the intent behind such actions. Although Azriel had sent his contacts in to find any sliver of information, his spies had come back empty-handed.

Eris rolled his shoulders, seemingly at ease despite being surrounded by the Night Court's most deadly warriors. "I am not entirely sure what he wants, but I assume it has something to do with my sister, Y/n."

Y/n, the only daughter of the High Lord of Autumn. She was quite young, by Fae standards – only seventy-nine. She had not fought in the war against Hybern, and had very little training according to Azriel's knowledge.

"Why her?" Feyre asked carefully.

Azriel heard the shift in her tone. She was wondering, as they all were, what Beron intended to do with her. The Autumn Court was just as backwards as the Court Of Nightmares, and females were considered little more than property.

Eris simply shrugged, either not hearing the implications in the High Lady's tone, or simply not caring. "That is all I know, I'm afraid."

Cassian grunted, his eyes still on the heir to the Autumn throne. No one was particularly happy about the bargain they had struck with him, but he seemed to be a willing ally. For now.

"What can you tell us about her?" Feyre inquired.

Eris watched her for a moment, before responding, "She is… wild. Untamed, and unpredictable."

Despite his words, Azriel sensed a flicker of admiration in his tone. Azriel stored that piece of information away. It could be a weakness of Eris's, his sister. They may need to exploit it one day.

"Sounds like my kind of lady," Mor grinned.

The fact that Mor bothered speak in Eris's presence was a gift that the heir did not appreciate enough. Azriel glanced sidelong at her, noticing the way her unbound golden hair cascaded down her back, and the amount of skin her low-cut red dress revealed. Once, looking at her like that would have sent Azriel mad with longing. But after she had confided in him, after she had revealed she could never love him back because she preferred females… some part of him had been relieved to let her go.

Eris scoffed at Mor's comment. "Yes, well, she irritates my father to no end."

There was a silence, and Azriel wondered whether Y/n annoyed Eris as well, before Rhys sighed, "Well, if that's all, Eris, I'm sure you have places to be."

The dismissal was clear in the High Lord's tone, and Eris rose from his chair with a nod before leaving the council room. Everyone was silent as the male left, all eyeing each other. Feyre and Rhys were looking at each other, a clear indication of their telepathic conversation, and Azriel watched the two with a hint of jealousy. Of course he was happy from them – finding one's mate was one of the most fulfilling things one could experience. But he couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for his own. It seemed he was the last of the court to find his mate, and he had a fear that he would never find them.

"Has anyone heard much about this Princess?" Cassian asked, looking towards Azriel.

Azriel shook his head. "She is one of the most guarded individuals in Prythian. My sources struggle to even see her."

"Very guarded indeed," Rhysand murmured.

The Court of Dreams debated between themselves the possibilities of what the High Lord of Autumn could want regarding his daughter. Azriel had a few of his own suspicions – to have her taken away, or perhaps trained in combat – but none of them seemed accurate.

After a while of debating plausible explanations for Beron's offer, the court decided to head home to the City of Starlight in order to get a good night's rest before their meeting tomorrow. The High Lord and High Lady were going, as well as Cassian and Azriel. Morrigan was not permitted in the Autumn Court, so she would stay behind with Nesta to hold down the fort while they were gone. Amren would also be travelling to the Autumn Court, and although the monster she was no longer crawled beneath her skin, she made most people wary.

As he lay in his bed, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what awaited him tomorrow. He was curious about what the Autumn High Lord wanted, especially regarding his daughter, although he was also wary. Although Autumn had helped them in the war, they couldn't be trusted. Azriel fell into an uneasy sleep, cautious of the days to come.

Azriel awoke at dawn the next day. They weren't due in the Autumn Court until the evening, so Azriel decided to go through his morning exercises. The Valkyries weren't up yet, so he went through his warm ups, taking his shirt off halfway through. The morning was uneventful, and Azriel ran over the information they had in his head. Eris had suggested that Beron may be seeking a favour of some sort, so perhaps it had something to do with that.

The day passed by quickly, and soon enough, those travelling to the Autumn Court had gathered in the living room of the River House, just as they had planned. Azriel and Cassian wore their scaled, black armour, while Rhys and Feyre wore their finery. Rhysand held his mate's arm, and Azriel grabbed onto Cassian, before winnowing to the entrance of the Autumn Court castle.

It was big, and made of stone. It was quite majestic, if Azriel was being honest – high towers and red and orange flags waving in the wind, large windows showcasing rich carpets and tapestries inside.

Rhys led the way, Feyre on his arm and Cassian and Azriel following closely, and Amren trailing behind. Guards monitored them as they passed through the halls, their armour heavier the closer they got to the throne room. Azriel marked each one as they passed, something he was sure Cassian and Rhysand were also doing.

The doors to the throne room opened, and revealed the High Lord of the Autumn Court sat atop a dais, the Lady of Autumn seated beside him. Beron's sons stood on his left, and his daughter was seated to her mother's right.

Azriel paused at the sight of her. She was beautiful, even by Fae standards. Her h/c hair shone in the Fae light liming the walls, piled neatly on her head in a braid crown. Y/n’s e/c eyes sparked with mischief and curiosity, skimming over the members of Azriel's Court, until they finally landed on him. Her gaze was mesmerising, and Azriel couldn't find it in himself to break it. A small smirk played at the corners of her mouth, as if she were aware of the effect she had on him, although Azriel's mask of icy cold had not budged even an inch. Azriel quickly tore his eyes away from the Daughter of Autumn, marking the guards posted by the doors and the dais, and counting the weapons each of Beron's sons carried.

"Beron," Rhysand purred, ever the arrogant High Lord, the mask back up despite the High Lords' meeting all those months ago. "So lovely to see you again. Thank you for inviting us to stay."

Beron rose from his dias and stalked towards the High Lord of the Night Court. Everyone tensed as he stepped closer and closer, and Azriel subtly reached for the dagger at his side. Beron's blood would spray across the marble floors the second Azriel suspected he would harm his High Lord or Lady. But Beron simply held his hand out, and Rhys gripped it tightly, his eyes holding a small amount of surprise.

"Rhysand. A pleasure to have you here," Beron replied. Azriel didn't miss the slight strain in his voice. "You must be hungry. Shall we?"

Beron inclined his head to the dining room and led the way with Rhysand and Feyre at his side. He hadn't even acknowledged the High Lady, something that made Azriel want to rip the male’s head off, but Rhys got there first.

“And what about my High Lady?” Rhys purred, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Beron’s smile faltered slightly, and he glanced at Feyre with a barely concealed look of distaste, as if he would rather rip off his own toenails than address a female with the same amount of respect that he would expect. Azriel felt a protective anger surge through him, and he watched carefully, curious as to what the High Lord’s next move would be.

“Of course,” Beron said, his voice dripping with fake courtesy. “My apologies, Lady Feyre. Of course it is wonderful to have you both visit.”

Cassian gave Azriel a look that said, And-what-about-us? Aren't-we-wonderful?

Azriel sent him a look back that said, Shut-the-fuck-up.

Beron led them all to the dining room, the Autumn colours present everywhere they looked. The chairs were all high-backed, and Azriel knew that Beron did not care if he and Cassian would be comfortable with their wings. Everyone took their seats — Beron at the head, Rhysand to his left, and Feyre beside him. Azriel sat next to his High Lady, Cassian taking his seat adjacent to the shadowsinger. The Lady of Autumn (still not a High Lady, despite the fact that Viviane was also now a High Lady) sat to Beron’s right, Eris beside her, and Y/n next to him, and across from Azriel. Azriel felt Y/n’s eyes on him, and he met her gaze. There was a curious look in her eyes, a look of anticipation mixed with mischief.

Dinner was served, an array of meats and vegetables placed on the table by servants, mostly lesser fairies. None of them looked Azriel in the eye, and he wondered if it was because they knew who and what he was, or if they’d been trained not to. Y/n, however, had no such qualms about this, and stared at the shadowsinger unabashedly.

Beron struck up a conversation with Rhys — small talk, something that Azriel internally cringed at, because it was definitely just to fill the silence. Ever the gracious guest, Rhysand responded in kind, although Azriel knew he was wondering what Beron’s ulterior motives were.

“How do your siphons work?”

The table went silent as Y/n spoke, her cunning eyes trained on Azriel. Beron looked at his daughter with a hint of irritation gleaming in his eyes, as if it was unacceptable for her to speak without permission. Azriel glanced at Rhysand, who was watching the daughter of Autumn with a hint of suspicion in his eyes.

“How do you know that is what they are called?” Rhys asked, his eyes trained on the only daughter of Autumn.

She shrugged, and answered, “I read a lot in my spare time. I remember reading about the Illyrians, and their siphons. If I remember correctly, Illyrians tend to possess only one, yet the two of you hold several.”

“There is no need to question our guests, Y/n,” Beron scolded firmly.

Y/n frowned. “I was simply curious.”

“Do not speak back to me,” Beron reprimanded, a burning fury now evident in his eyes.

Y/n slumped back into her chair slightly and bowed her head. “My apologies, Father.”

Beron didn’t even acknowledge his daughter before he turned back to Rhys, as if her mere existence didn’t deserve another moment of his time. Azriel watched the female in front of him as she stared at her plate, and felt a sense of sympathy for her. Azriel owed her nothing — he did not know the female in front of him, did not know if she even deserved his sympathy — and yet he felt the need to protect, to wipe that blank expression off of her face.

“Our siphons act as a conduit for our raw power,” Azriel offered, causing Y/n to look up. Beron paused, glancing at the shadowsinger and the Autumn daughter, and Azriel continued, “It helps to control our magic, to make it precise and nimble, rather than a messy outburst of power.”

Cassian gaped at his brother, as if he had never heard that many words come out of Azriel’s mouth in one sitting. While that was an inaccurate statement, it was true that Azriel never tended to speak in front of new people. He wasn’t sure why he had done so anyway. But Y/n bowed her head in thanks at the information, perhaps still wary of answering and speaking without her father’s permission, but Azriel had observed a small, triumphant light in the female’s eyes at his reply.

Azriel watched as that gleam faded when Beron cleared his throat, gaining the attention from everyone in the room.

“There is a reason why I have asked you here,” Beron stated.

“Surprise, surprise,” Cassian muttered, and Azriel elbowed him.

Beron glanced at Cassian for all of a second before continuing, “There has been an attempt on my daughter’s life.” Stunned silence met Beron’s words, and Azriel caught Y/n rolling her eyes. That raised his suspicion — were Beron’s words false, or did she simply believe it was not an issue? “If it appeals to you,” Beron went on, “I seek to employ one of your Night Court warriors as her personal bodyguard.”

Rhys blinked once, his only sign of surprise. Beron looked at Rhys expectantly, and Azriel could have guessed the thoughts that flew around Rhys’s head.

“Why one of my warriors?” Rhys inquired carefully.

“I hoped it might help strengthen bonds between our courts,” Beron expressed.

Azriel watched the High Lord of the Autumn Court carefully. There seemed to be no ulterior motives hidden within his demeanour — he did not shift nervously, none of his facial features even so much as twitched.

“And say I agree to this,” Rhys said casually, “how long would you hold onto one of my warriors?”

“Until the threat against my daughter’s life is eliminated,” Beron answered.

There was silence for a few moments while everyone processed what was happening. Azriel looked at Eris to see the male’s eyes on his father. They were carefully guarded, a mask in place to ensure no one was able to discern what he was thinking. Azriel turned his gaze to Y/n, and a shadow slithered up by his ear.

She does not believe it to be such a serious matter, the shadow whispered. She wishes for this dinner to be over so she may go back to her quarters and finish her novel.

Azriel blinked in surprise at the information from his shadow. Usually, his shadows would tell him what others could not see and hear — but this felt almost like too much. Yes, his shadows had a tendency to recognise when someone was lying, or what weapons they were concealing, but to give him a person’s unvoiced opinion on a matter was something new.

But indeed, with her chin propped up on her delicate hand, and twirling her dessert fork in the other, she appeared to be completely disinterested. Azriel turned his gaze back to the male beside her, to see Eris already watching his sister. His eyes were cold and calculating as he regarded her, as if he was mentally playing out how this ‘bodyguard’ situation would go. With the slight frown tugging the corners of his lips downwards, Azriel assumed Eris did not believe it would end well.

“Please, do take time to come to a decision,” Beron offered. “I do understand this is a lot to ask.”

“We shall have an answer by the end of the week,” Rhys said with a nod.

Beron nodded back, and Azriel wondered what they were getting themselves into.

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itsphoenix0724 · 8 months

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Can You Kill A God? (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: No one will ever forget why you are Death's queen ever again.

Based on another fic I wrote which you can read here

Warnings: Gore, blood, the reader is a little sinister but I love it, SMUT (unprotected sex, breeding kink?, oral: m and f receiving)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I've been really missing Death!Az and Life!Reader recently. Also, I've had an obsession with Get In The Water from Epic the musical and this is what spawned. I did set in Ancient Greece so I did mention a Greek city. Happy New Year!!!

It started as a petty slight. Some stupid mortal king had said they feared Death more than War, so the god had raged a challenge. Your husband doesn’t normally involve himself in other matters, he had no need.

Eris was irrelevant to him.

Of all the other gods he is the only one who was inevitable, who would be permanent despite all odds. Azriel didn’t even feel the need to acknowledge the God of War, but he had started harming your creations, which was unacceptable in his eyes.

The souls had come into the underworld brutalized, they curled into your lap as you wiped their tears with the gossamer of your gown and told you that they had been sent as a message. You shed your own tears as you escorted them to eternal paradise and Death’s eyes went dark with promise as he cupped your jaw.

Then he prepared for battle.

You had to return to the overworld soon, the last phases of winter thawing into springtime greenery. He would sort this mess out before you leave his protection realm. Azriel gathered his allies and they outfitted themselves for combat. He took care to strap the armor to your chest, the gauntlets on your arms, and around your calves, kissing his devotion before securing every piece of metal. You did the same to him taking extra care to protect his heart.

The sight of you almost sent him to his knees.

There are still flowers wound through your hair, nightshade and belladonna make a deadly crown, and the golden glow that seems to permanently surround you bounces off the obsidian steel of your armor.

The battle had been bloody and long, it felt as if you’ve been here for days. Your dress was torn, the cloth shredded around your feet. Blood covered your entire front, caked and cracked into your skin.

You cannot kill a god.

But that doesn’t make the battle any less gruesome.

Nothing would touch you thanks to Death looming over your shoulder. Every attack that may have hit you was deflected by your husband and vice-versa until the God of War catches onto this little tactic and baits Azriel by attacking you. Az had jumped in front of you, a wall of shadows blasting the God of War back a few feet at the risk of wounding him.

But Death had fallen, red blood spilling sickly and sweet onto the fresh spring grass. It reminds you of a splitting pomegranate as the red seeps out and stains the dirt, every god in the field halts their battle and watches

You fall to your knees in front of him, vines starting to curl around him as your magic begs to erupt from your chest to protect what’s yours. Eris gloats from his spot hovering in the air, laughing at Azriel struggling to breathe around the blood coming up his throat. The thorn vines wrap around Azriel to ward off any who might try to weaken him further as you rise to your feet.

“Flower,” he wheezes around a cracked rattle in his throat, shaking his head and trying to sit up. You shush him gently pouring golden light into his chest that does nothing. You are not the Goddess of Healing, life will never stop death, so Az will have to heal on his own. War still mocks your shushing, your tears, calling your magic pathetic.

The earth beneath you starts to rumble.

You are the Goddess of Life, the Goddess of the Earth, the World Shaker, and you will make every God here remember why you are Queen of the Underworld.

Rising to your feet, the earth grumbles and shudders under the very force of your erratic heartbeat. War made a mistake waging this battle in Sparta, his arrogance will be his downfall. Your entire body shakes with rage as you stare at Eris from his spot in the air.

“Get on the ground Eris.” Your voice rumbles in time with the splitting of the earth and War widens his eyes at the splintering ground. Yet, his overconfidence keeps him hovering out of your reach.

“Go home, Little Goddess” He drawls, “You’ve been beaten.” he spits at you with venom in his eyes—a dark, dark laugh bubbles out of your chest like molten lava.

“If you don’t come down here I will collapse every wall in your city, and kill everyone in it.” You glare up at him, and he laughs shaking his head in disbelief. “Don’t believe me?” You quirk a brow and the rise around the city starts to shake. “Tell me God, what happens when every last worshiper of yours is dead?” His eyes widen in fear then.

Because that is how you kill a god, you force them into the darkness of being forgotten until they waste away like little more than salt in water.

Faster than a breath thorn-covered vines shoot from the earth and surround War kicking and screaming, golden light begins to glow brightly from your eyes as your fury hauls him to the ground.

People seem to forget that Death is the calm acceptance of something coming to an end. Life joins this realm wailing its existence to the stars, Life can be a very violent thing.

You will break him beyond repair, you can’t hear the sounds of Eris choking on his blood, the only noise in your head is the dull thumping of a war drum. He fights back with as much power as he can muster, but you’re barely trembling with the effort it takes to hold him there. The sinister in your smile reflects in his shining, terrified eyes.

How pretty would it be if lilies sprouted from his lungs?

Someone may be calling your name but you can’t hear anything, the tunnel vision threatening to collapse you entirely. You might not be able to kill him like this but regrowing all of his organs certainly would take some time. Feeling the golden power writhe and wrap around his heart, begging you to let it off its leash and crush, but it’s then that you feel the cooling darkness wrap around your shoulders. Death sweeps his chill gaze over War after rising to his feet. You still hold the line firm, one arm shooting out to block Azriel from any further advancement. The light in your eyes still refuses to dim, but Az wraps a hand around your jaw delicately turning your face toward him.

“You’ve made your point My Love,” the steady weight of his hand calms the rising heat in your blood. “It’s time to let him go.” Azriel didn’t particularly care if you ripped Eris apart and scattered him to the seas, but he knew the guilt would threaten to drag you into the abyss entirely. The light dims, and you drop your hand. Eris falls to the ground like a puppet dropped from strings, coughing blood like shiny red rubies onto the grass. You’re only looking at Az, the wash of reassurance running over your body as you finally process that he’s whole–that he’s standing.

He’s alright.

Death doesn’t deign to even look at War as shadows come around you like dark silk, and you’re back in his realm. He finally sags into your arms as he lets the facade drop, the real pain and exhaustion catching up to him. Az thinks you might call for a medic, but it feels like someone is holding his head underwater. The silk of the sheets feels distant against his skin as your hand strokes his face, and he finally lets his eyes slip closed.

Azriel sleeps for four days.

He wakes in your bedroom, your presence absent, but a pitcher of water remains on the bedside table. The armor he’d donned for battle had been stripped from him, replaced by a black chiton that fell loosely around his chest and hips. He chugs half the water in one go as his power reaches out frantically for you, his heart settles when he feels like your golden aura, and he rises to set off looking.

He finds you beneath an ever-blooming willow tree in Asphodel fields, reading animatedly to a group of children, the golden reeds bellowing in the fresh spring air. They scatter as he leans against the trunk, giggling and laughing as they chase each other into the meadow. You’re overjoyed when you see your husband, throwing his arms around him and crashing his lips to yours.

“Are you all right?” You mutter, gently pushing back the curtain of black hair that had fallen into his eyes. You’re so delicate with him, Azriel feels his heart skip two beats in his chest.

“I’m content,” He hums lazily dropping his nose into your hairline, the lingering smell of lilies floods his senses and calms his nerves as it always does. He nudges his nose to your pulse point before biting gently at your fluttering heartbeat.

“Azriel,” your voice reverberates into his chest, twinning heartbeats thudding together. “You’re still injured.” he continues his exploration of your neck, nipping his displeasure at your attempt to coddle him. Your body shudders as he finds a sensitive point, and you can feel his smug smile at your jugular.

“Let me worship my Goddess in peace,” he rumbles relishing in the feel of your skin and the golden warmth of the fresh sun. He drops to his knees in the dirt, pressing devotion into the curve of your knee as your back thumps against the bark of the willow. He smirks as flowers bloom around you in time with your bashfulness, red poppies matching the pretty flush on your cheeks.

“The souls,” You whip your head from side to side as he runs his hands along the sensitive skin of your thighs. He tilts his head in contemplation, hazel eyes reflecting the warmth like molten gold.

You feel his power ripple around you and a blanket of silence covers the area. Everything goes quiet, no birds chirping or animals running through the surrounding forest, even the rustling of the grass in the wind falls silent under his command.

“No one will bother us now,” Azriel muses, continuing his travels, you squirm under his attention as he climbs higher and higher.

“You’ve been asleep for four days,” You barely get the words out as he runs his thumb delicately over the apex of your thighs, enjoying the feel of you under his hands. “You should really eat something,” He growls his frustration as he bites a dark mark on the sensitive skin.

“I’m trying too, if you would stop interrupting me.” His eyes turn almost black as he focuses his attention on your core again, brushing aside the scrap of silk covering you. Az lets out a guttural moan as your scent floods his senses. He dives in then, feasting on you like he needs it more than air.

He’s wasted precious time with you since he’s been asleep, winter is caving to the sweet spring, but it seems the cold is listening to his prayers and holding on just a little longer. He licks straight to your center, tasting the honeyed sweetness as it floods his mouth. No matter how many centuries you spend together you are always still so responsive to him, you’re twitching and squirming against the tree just about to tumble over that edge when you yank his head away to pull him to his feet. His eyes are glazed over and your slick is dripping down his chin, you haul his mouth to yours tasting yourself on his tongue. All of a sudden his back is against the tree and you sink to your knees before him, tearing at belt holding up the fabric around his waist.

It seems that you’ve missed him as well.

You look up at him through batting lashes, and Azriel strokes his hand along your jaw in adoration. You take him in your mouth and Az feels like molten iron has been poured down his spine, white-hot pleasure blinding all of his senses. Death’s knees begin to buckle under Life’s ministrations, the smug look in her eyes adding to the crumbling of his resolve. He has always laid everything he is at your feet, intimacy is no different. You stroke the rest of won’t fit in your mouth in time with the bobbing of your head and he feels weightless.

Your tongue strokes along a vein on the side of his cock and he explodes almost embarrassingly quickly. It appears that four days had taken more of a toll on him than anticipated. He scoops you into his arms and in a blink you’re in your bedroom. The absurdly large bed stretches across the expanse of the room, the open windows letting in the sun. Azriel tosses you on the cool silk sheets as he stalks on top of you. His lips collide with yours again as he slowly draws one hand up your thigh and draws your underwear down, throwing it somewhere behind him. He thrusts into you in one long motion, and the searing pleasure sends a rumble of power that shakes the very foundation of the palace.

“Calm Flower,” he whispers as he hits the spot inside of you that threatens to launch you into oblivion. “You’ll bring the walls down around us.” You let out a laugh that bubbles into a moan as he continues his languid drive into you over and over. Eventually, Azriel starts to ram into you as his restraint falters like a splitting thread, toying his fingers over the apex of your thighs with musician’s grace as he bites at your neck. He flips you over at lightning speed, your ass in the air as he drives your further into the mattress, your moans muffling into the pillows as your try to keep up with the relentless tempo. You finally tip over the edge right before Az spills himself inside you, your combined release makes him let out a roar so loud the birds flee from their nests in the trees.

He watches himself spill out of you, thrusting it back inside with two of his fingers.

You whine in overstimulation as he crooks his fingers inside of you, he lets out an amused huff as he gently strokes your shaking thighs. Azriel waves a hand, and you hear the water in the bathtub start to run. You stroke a gentle path through his night-dark hair as he leans into your touch.

Yes, spring may be coming soon. The time with your husband dwindles to sparse moments in a dying winter fire, but as Az scoops you into his arms to take you to the bath you enjoy every single moment you have left.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel au #acotar fanfiction #acosf #azriel spymaster #azriel smut

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danikamariewrites · 3 months

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Heist

Mob!Azriel x reader AU

Note: another day another Mob!Az fic for you all to think about teehee.

Warnings: mentions of violence and blood

You giggled as Azriel lightly nipped at your cheek, his hand trying to sneak into the bowl of cookie dough. “Az,” you laugh out, smacking his hand away. “You can have some later when the rest of the Boy Scouts show up.”

Azriel rolls his eyes at the nickname. “I’ve told you, we are not Boy Scouts, we are-”

“A highly trained and dangerous group of powerful families that are allied.” You say, mimicking the overused statement. “Yes, yes I know Azzy, geez.” You tease, bumping him with your hip.

Moving from his grasp you bustle around the kitchen grabbing ingredients and plates. Azriel’s kitchen was gorgeous, and criminally under utilized. When you moved in it was all black and white, barely any ingredients or extra appliances.

“Oh this won’t do.” You had told Azriel, demanding you go shopping for every and anything you’d ever need for a kitchen. You gave the place a complete makeover, painting the walls and cabinets a lovely sage green and replacing the countertops. Adding an island and dark wood table and cushions to the breakfast nook the room was complete.

Coming back to stand between Azriel and the island you start scooping out the cookies. “You really don’t have to do this, you know.” You shrug, a generous scoop of dough and chocolate chips falling from your spoon. “I want to. Plus, I never really got to bake since work took up too much time. And your meetings go on forever, you guys absolutely need snacks.”

Leaning down Azriel presses a kiss to the back of your head. “You’re amazing, my love.” He says softly. You lean back into his chest, tilting your head back to stare at his pretty face. Turning, you hold up a finger with dough on it. Azriel’s eyes light up at the treat, licking it from your finger. Pushing up on your toes you peck his lips, murmuring, “I love you.”

Before Azriel could pull you to him and go for a more heated kiss, Rhys walks in, clearing his throat. “They’re here Az.” He nods at his brother, signaling Rhys’s dismissal.

A heavy sigh leaves his nose. Holding your face, Azriel gives you one last kiss. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

An hour later you were balancing a tea tray laden with chocolate chip cookies in your hands. The guard at the door smiles at you, knocking and opening one of the double doors for you. You nod in thanks as you quietly make your way to the occupied half of the table.

It was a small group today. Only Helion, Eris, Kal and their second and third in commands, along with a few other key members of their organizations. Reaching between Helion and Rhysand, you gently place the tray in the middle of the table.

The men looked hesitant to reach for the snack at first, but also didn’t want to be rude. “Thank you, my love.” Azriel says, giving you a small smile from his place at the head of the table. “Of course,” you whisper.

Azriel leads the conversation back to their plans, “Now, we can’t stand for this. The Molina family made us look like fools and trust me gentleman, that will not happen again. This robbery has to be big.” Odd, you thought to yourself, Azriel’s MO isn’t home robberies.

The pictures of the mansion in question spread across the table caught your eye. It’s familiarity had you titling your head, wracking your brain for where you’d seen it before.

then it hit you. The paintings on the wall! You knew them because you delivered them! Your lips parted slightly in surprise at your memory.

You felt Helion’s attention on you as he asked, “What’s wrong?” Your eyes snap to his deep brown ones, cheeks tinting red in embarrassment. Azriel takes his tone as rude but you brush it off, knowing he’s just curious about what you’re seeing.

You look to Azriel, not knowing if you have the right to give your input in a meeting. You didn’t want to make Azriel seem less in charge or something.

Azriel gives you a soft, encouraging look. “Go ahead, y/n. Tell us what you see.” You nod at him, dragging the picture of the paintings toward you. “These paintings are fakes.” A confusion spreads over the room as a few huh’s sound around the table.

“My boss got his hands on the real ones somehow, these are like rare pieces, hell museums would kill for these. Before he sold them I honestly thought they were in the Louvre. But he sold them to Molina Jr. who also requested fakes to display, since he bragged so much about buying them. They aren’t very good fakes if you ask me though.”

Helion brought the image closer to his face, attempting his untrained eye to see the falsity of the paintings. Kal snatched it from him, giving him a you-don’t-know-shit-about-art look.

Conversation bubbles around Azriel but all he can focus on is you. You and your beautiful, passionate, intelligent mind.

“Where would he keep the real ones?” Eris asks, breaking up the conversations and Azriel’s concentration on you. Though that didn’t last long. As soon as you opened your mouth Azriel was laser focused on you.

You give Eris a knowing smirk, “His vault, where I helped deliver the paintings.” Cassian and Kal let out laughs or triumph as the others gave you approving looks. Rhysand unrolls the blueprints to the mansion in front of you. “Alright y/n, point us in the right direction.”

Two hours later the heist was planned perfectly thanks to you. You waited in Azriel’s office as he bid his guests goodbye. Kicked back, sitting in his kingly leather chair, your feet propped up on the desk.

Hearing the door click shut you perk up. Azriel grins, strutting over to you. Crossing his arms he leans against the desk in front of you. “I don’t think I could’ve planned that without you.” You shrug at the praise. “Eh, you would’ve gotten by.”

Azriel nudges your feet off the polished wood, chuckling at you. Lifting you up and pulling you into his lap you immediately lean against his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

“You’re too modest, my love. Everyone was telling me how brilliant you are.” You giggle, burying your face deeper into Azriel’s chest at the compliment. Hooking his fingers under your chin, Az tilts your face up to meet his shimmering hazel gaze.

“My clever girl.” He hums, pressing his lips to yours. You slip your arms around his neck pulling him closer. Azriel stands, gently placing you on his desk. He nudges your thighs apart to stand between your legs, deepening the kiss. “I think you deserve a reward,” his voice had taken on a deep and seductive tone. That smirk promises a very pleasurable reward. Tugging on Azriel’s dark locks he pulls away from you, dropping to his knees.

——

Tonight is the big heist. When Azriel had kissed you goodbye you plastered a convincing smile on your face, trying to ignore your heart pounding so hard against your chest you thought it was trying to escape.

You were always nervous when Azriel went out with his men for a job. Pacing the TV room, more like a theater, you dug your toes into the carpet to focus on something other than Azriel. You had lots to keep you distracted like a book, your favorite show cued up, your phone. However, moving around was a necessity right this very second.

The first time Azriel went on a job after you moved in was a disaster. You had a panic attack so bad not even Baxian, your bodyguard, could calm you down. Baxian was on the verge of calling Azriel as he walked through the front door. It made him contemplate never leaving you again.

You still can’t decide if you’d rather Az not tell you and just be blissfully ignorant. Or if you would still worry if he was out until all hours of the night. You’d probably still worry but worse.

In the silence you paused at any creaking or popping that sounded in the house. About to settle on the couch to pick an activity, the unmistakable sound of the front door opening.

Staring at the doorway to the TV room you held your breath. You didn’t want to see Azriel if he was hurt. You didn’t think you could stomach the sight of his blood.

Footsteps grew louder and louder until Azriel was staring at you. He was unscathed. Safe. And home.

You let out a cry of relief, running into his open arms. Azriel pulls you flush to his body, tucking your head under his chin. You revel in his warm touch. A smile spreads across your lips at having him back home.

Pulling away, you stare up into his tired eyes. “Everything went ok?” You ask softly. Azriel nods, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “It went perfectly, all thanks to you my love.” He says, exhaustion lacing his voice.

“Come on you,” you squeeze him around the middle. “Let’s get you to bed, baby.” You move to his side, pulling him along. “Sounds perfect, my love.”

Tucking into bed you couldn’t shake this feeling in the pit of your stomach. Watching Az sleep peacefully you snuggle into his side, holding on to him. Just in case.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar reader fic #acotar reader imagine #acotar imagine #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel fic #azriel imagine #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #azriel #azriel fluff #azriel au #mob!azriel au #mob!azriel

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olenvasynyt · 6 months

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Parallels between Gwyn and Az

People don’t often realize this, but Gwyn and Az have a lot of things in common. And imo, it points to Gwynriel. So let’s talk about it!

Dynamics with Nesta

They have similar dynamic with Nesta. It’s not identical but neither of them shy away from her bluntness like others do. They both seem to admire it and at some points, it gets Gwyn and Az to open up.

Page 251 of ACOSF: “Nesta watched the shadowsinger with a frankness that most people shied from. Azriel returned the look with the stillness that most people ran from.”

Page 114 of ACOSF: “ I don’t need to be coddled. Only spoken to like a person.” “I doubt you’ll enjoy the way I speak to most people.” Nesta said. “Gwyn snorted. “Try me.” Nesta looked at her from under lowered brows again. “Get out of my sight.” Gwyn grinned, a broad, bright thing that showed up most of her teeth and made her eyes sparkle in a way Nesta knew her own never had. “Oh, you’re good.” Gwyn turned back to the stacks. “Really good.”

Page 101 of ACOSF: “I hope you’re not giving my brother a hard time.”“Is that a threat, Shadowinger?” Azriel said coolly, “I don’t need to resort to threats.” Nesta gave him a smile, holding his stare. “Neither do I.”

Page 348 of ACOSF: “Nesta scowled, and Az offered her a slight smile. They could be allies, that smile seemed to say. Against Cassian’s utter insanity. She found herself answering Azriel with a slight smile of her own.”

Competitiveness

They’re both competitive. Cassian says that Az gets really competitive, and you can see the competitiveness in the bonus chapter where he has his plot to win the snowball fight.

Page 254 of ACOSF: “Azriel had a vicious competitive streak. Wasn’t boastful or arrogant… or possessive and terrifying…No, it was quiet and cruel and utterly lethal.”

Gwyn is super competitive with cutting the ribbon and when the Valkyries are doing the obstacle courses.

Page 624 of ACOSF: “Roslin, Ananke, and Deirdre were close on their heels, propelling Gwyn to push her group harder. She wanted to be the first. Wanted Nesta and Emerie and her to be the ones who wiped the smirks from Azriel’s and Cassian’s faces. Especially Azriel.”

Knowledge

They both get pretty fascinated by things, they both like to learn stuff. Cassian said that Az was really fascinated by the solar system and other-worldly stuff Rhys likes to research.

Page 37 of ACOSF: “At the far end of the room, a little dias led into a broad raised alcove…and in its center, a massive, working model of their world, the stars and planets around it…Az, of course, had been fascinated.”

Trauma / light and darkness

Quote page 113 of ACOSF: “If marks of trauma lingered, any evidence was hidden by her robe. But Nesta knew how invisible wounds could be how they could scars deeply and badly as any physical breaking.”

This is a really big one: Gwyn’s healing seems like the kind of healing Az had. Az was hidden in darkness and he was brought to the Illyrian camps which might have been the first time he saw true light in a while. He found Cassian and Rhys who took him in and they trained together. And Gwyn hid herself in the library for years and saw true light for the first time in a while and trained with Nesta and Emerie and found true healing and confidence in herself.

This quote really got me:

Quote page 272 of ACOSF: “Gwyn’s hands were shaking as she took another step into the ring and peered into the open bowl of the sky. The first time she’d been outside—truly outside—in years. She met Nesta’s gaze and smiled. "I forgot how it feels to have the full sun upon my head. Forgive me if I spend some time gawking at the sky.”

I can just imagine Az having a similar reaction when he’s at the Illyrian camps for the first time. A little 11 year old unsure of how to hold his wings up right just…looking up at the sky. And he’s hiding his hands.

The main difference with this is Az was locked up in the darkness and Gwyn chose to be in the darkness, but I think the fact that light and darkness are key parts of their healing process is important to note.

Fear of making mistakes, and their loyalty to loved ones

Another super significant thing about them is their sense of loyalty to the people who took them in, and their fear of making mistakes and failing.

This quote from Gwyn really got me because it just screams Azriel to me.

Quote page 148 of ACOSF: “because I don’t like to fail I can’t…” Gwyn shook her head. “I don’t want to make any more mistakes.” “These females took me in. Give me shelter and healing and family.” Again, her large eyes darkened. “I cannot stand to fail them in anything.”

That just seems so much like Az. Rhys and Cassian took him in, gave him shelter and healing and family, so he’s super loyal and he hates when he fails them. Az seems to often feel guilty when one of the plans goes wrong; he thinks he didn’t do as much as he could have.

Page 346 of ACOWAR: ”Hybern had made its grand move at last. And we had not anticipated it. I knew Azriel would take the blame upon himself. One look at the shadowsinger…told me he already did.”

Unworthiness

Another thing is they feel unworthy. You can see this with Gwyn and her invoking stone she says she doesn’t deserve to wear it, she is ashamed of her history and is afraid of people finding out things that she hates about herself.

Quote page 173 of ACOSF: “Why don’t you wear that stone on your head like the others?” Gwyn pocketed the gem. “Because I don’t deserve to.”

Page 521 of ACOSF: “I understand,” Gwyn repeated, “what it is to fail the people who mean the most. To live in fear of people finding out. I dread you and Emerie learning my history. I know that once you do, you’ll never look at me the same again.”

Page 696 of ACOSF: “But even training these months hasn’t erased the fact that I let my sister die. You asked me once why I don’t wear the hood of the Invoking Stone. That stone is a sign of holiness. How can someone like me wear it?”

That’s just so similar to Az I feel like, specifically this quote in the bonus chapter where he feels like his hands are tainted and that he’s unworthy of touching her.

ACOSF bonus chapter: “She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars. Such terrible things that it was a sacrilege for his fingers to skin, tainting her with his presence.

He also feels guilty for not doing enough, to fail the people around him. You see this with Mor a lot.

Page 429 of ACOWAR: ”As Azriel turned his face toward me—The frozen rage rooted me to the spot. But beneath it, I could almost see the images that haunted him: the hand Mor had yanked away, her weeping, distraught face as she had screamed at Rhys.”

Now kind of diverting from the topic: I see people make debates about why Gwyn thinks she’s unworthy. There are theories that she’s actually an inside spy for Koschei and maybe she feels guilty for that but there’s literally a quote that says she thinks she let her sister die and that she’s guilty that she lived and her sister didn’t. I dislike the evil Gwyn theories, I think they’re gross. I also kind of think her SA made her felt tainted, that’s a very common thing among SA survivors.

Coping skills / being unbreakable

And this is kind of a looser connection than the others I mentioned but we see moments from both where they tell themselves that they are unbreakable or hard to break. When Gwyn cut the ribbon, she quoted the Valkyrie mindstilling technique:

Page 621 of ACOSF: “I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break me.”

"Nothing can break me" is something that Gwyn added, it was not part of the original Valkyrie passage. And it reminded me of something that Az says to Feyre when they are doing their flying lessons in ACOWAR.

Azriel tells Feyre Page 305 ACOWAR: “You’re immortal. You’re very hard to break. That’s what I told myself.”

The Blood Rite, friendships, and healing journey

And this similarty pertains to the Valkyries and the batboys in general, not solely Az and Gwyn, but the Valkyries during the blood rite is a reflection of the batboys during their blood rite. It was the beginning of their journey when it came to healing and finding their strength and proving people wrong. It was a pivotal point in their friendships, both groups fought like hell to reach each other.

Page 693 of ACOSF: “I don’t want to take the safe road. I want to take that road. To prove to them, to everyone, that something new and different might triumph over their rules and regulations.”

And this is the start of Gwyn’s journey, this is the start of her friendship with Nesta and Emerie, who have become very important to her. She’s still struggling with her fears, she tells Nesta that she might come out of the library to go to her mating ceremony.

And Az is kind of similar. He has had centuries to heal and be with his brothers. But he is absolutely still healing, he’s got tons of issues to sort out still. You can say they’re aloof and they lock themselves up in a similar way: he doesn’t seem to want to go out to bars and parties unless his friends go.

Page 377 of ACOMAF: “And when I pointed out that he did go to Rita’s with her whenever she asked, Mor simply informed me that it had taken her four centuries to get him to do that.”

He seems content to brood but he opens up because of his friends.

Differences

There are obviously tons of differences, I think the main ones being Gwyn is significantly more joyful than Az, she smiles and laughs a lot while it’s very rare to see Az smile or laugh. He’s super broody and aloof. Gwyn seems to open up a lot more easily. She has a lot of hope. She doesn’t seem to want to suppress herself. Even though she struggles she is trying to break free.

Page 524 of ACOSF: “ Nesta had never heard a voice like Gwyn’s—by turns trained and wild, as if there was so much sound fighting to break free of Gwyn, but she couldn’t quite contain it all. As if the sound needed to be loose in the world.”

And with Az: literally impossible to get him to confess anything. There are a lot of things that Cassian doesn’t know about his brother. He is content to brood. He shuts his feelings down until they build up to a point where they almost explode sometimes. There are some points where he suppresses his shadows on purpose, I feel like. I don’t know how his shadows work but he can control them at some points.

I feel like whether or not you believe these parallels point to Gwynriel, you can’t deny that they are very similar and can be very good friends and heal together because of that.

But also, Gwynriel is endgame 🤷‍♀️

#pro gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #professor layton and the azran legacy #acotar #dana metas

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callsigns-haze · 6 months

Text

Can't two people reconnect?

Pairing: Azriel x reader Warning: Please be advised that the following chapter contains descriptions of emotional distress and sensitive themes. Summary: YN grapples with feelings of inadequacy after losing her wings, finding solace and reassurance in Azriel's unwavering love and support.

This can be read alone or with Bad Idea Right???

The soft light of dawn filtered through the windows of Azriel's private room, casting a warm glow over the tangled forms of YN and Azriel as they lay wrapped in each other's arms. YN stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she gradually became aware of the warmth of Azriel's body pressed against hers.

For a moment, she simply lay there, savouring the feeling of being held in his arms, the memories of their passion from the night before still lingering like a sweet dream. But as the haze of sleep began to lift, YN's thoughts turned to the reality of the world outside their private sanctuary.

With a soft sigh, she extricated herself from Azriel's embrace, the cool air of the room a stark contrast to the warmth of his touch. As she sat up, she couldn't help but smile at the sight of him still sleeping peacefully beside her, his features softened in the gentle light of morning.

But as she glanced around the room, the events of the previous night came flooding back to her in a rush of memories. The party, the search, Azriel's private room... She blinked, suddenly remembering the others and the jobs they had slept in on.

"Az," she murmured, gently shaking him awake. "We need to get up. The others will be wondering where we are."

Azriel stirred, his eyes fluttering open as he blinked away the remnants of sleep. "Hmm? What is it?"

"We overslept," YN explained, a hint of amusement in her voice. "We should probably get back before they send out a search party."

Azriel chuckled softly, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he stretched lazily. "I suppose you're right. Though I wouldn't mind staying here a little while longer."

As they dressed and prepared to face the day ahead, YN couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment settle over her. In Azriel's arms, she had found a love unlike anything she had ever known before, a love that made even the darkest of nights seem a little brighter.

And as they made their way back to the hustle and bustle of the Night Court, hand in hand, YN knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, united in their love and devotion to each other.

As YN and Azriel entered the main hall of the Night Court, they instinctively released each other's hands, a subtle shift in their demeanour as they joined their friends and allies. Cassian, Rhysand, and Feyre were engaged in conversation with other members of the court, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and amusement as they spotted YN and Azriel's approach.

Rhysand's eyes sparkled with mischief as he greeted them, a knowing grin playing on his lips. "Well, well, look who decided to grace us with their presence."

Cassian raised an eyebrow, his tone teasing. "Enjoy your beauty sleep, did you?"

YN felt her cheeks flush at their playful banter, quickly composing herself as she replied, "Sorry for disappearing last night. We... got caught up in something."

Azriel nodded in agreement, his expression unreadable as he added, "It won't happen again."

Feyre's gaze softened as she observed the couple, a gentle smile touching her lips. "No need to apologize. We're just glad you're both safe."

With that, the group fell into easy conversation, the events of the previous night fading into the background as they focused on the tasks at hand. Despite the lingering memory of their shared intimacy, YN and Azriel maintained a respectful distance from each other, their actions speaking volumes even as their words remained unspoken.

As the morning continued, Rhysand took charge, announcing the day's plans to the group. His voice carried authority, yet there was a warmth to his demeanour that made everyone feel at ease.

"Today, we have important tasks to attend to," Rhys began, his eyes sweeping over his companions. "YN, Cassian, I need you to head to the borders. Keep a close watch and ensure that everything remains secure."

YN and Cassian nodded in acknowledgment, already mentally preparing for the journey ahead. They were seasoned warriors, familiar with the importance of their duties.

Rhys turned to Azriel, his expression thoughtful. "Azriel, I need you to venture into the woods. We've had reports of suspicious activity, and I need you to gather information."

Azriel inclined his head in understanding, his expression giving away nothing as he accepted the task. He was the Night Court's shadow, its silent protector, and he would carry out his mission with the utmost discretion.

As the group dispersed to prepare for their assignments, YN felt a surge of determination coursing through her veins. She and Cassian shared a nod of solidarity before setting off towards the borders, their minds focused on the task at hand.

Meanwhile, Azriel vanished into the depths of the woods, his movements silent and swift as he disappeared into the shadows. He was a ghost in the night, a whisper on the wind, and he would not rest until he had uncovered the truth lurking in the darkness.

With a silent exchange of nods, YN and Cassian readied themselves to winnow to the borders. Their muscles tensed in anticipation as they prepared for whatever awaited them on the other side. In an instant, they vanished from the safety of the Night Court, reappearing amidst the chaos of the borderlands.

The scene before them was one of turmoil and conflict. A full-scale battle raged on, the clash of swords and the cries of warriors filling the air with a deafening cacophony. YN and Cassian exchanged a glance, their expressions grim as they took in the sight before them.

Without hesitation, they leaped into action, drawing their weapons and charging into the fray. Their movements were fluid and precise, honed through years of training and experience. Side by side, they fought as one, a formidable force against the tide of enemies that threatened to overwhelm them.

With each swing of their blades, they carved a path through the enemy ranks, their determination unwavering in the face of adversity. They fought not just for themselves, but for the safety and security of the land they loved, for the people who called it home.

As the battle raged on, YN and Cassian found themselves locked in a deadly dance of steel and blood. They moved with a grace and skill that belied the ferocity of their attacks, each strike a testament to their unwavering resolve.

But despite their best efforts, the enemy seemed endless, their numbers overwhelming even the most valiant of defences. YN and Cassian fought on, their spirits unbroken even as exhaustion threatened to overtake them.

And then, just when it seemed as though all hope was lost, reinforcements arrived, their allies appearing on the battlefield like a beacon of light in the darkness. With renewed vigour, YN and Cassian pressed forward, their determination renewed as they fought side by side with their comrades.

In the end, it was their unity and resolve that carried them to victory. The enemy forces were driven back, their ranks scattered and broken in the face of the Night Court's relentless onslaught. And as the dust settled and the echoes of battle faded into the distance, YN and Cassian stood victorious, their hearts filled with pride and gratitude for the bond that had carried them through the darkest of times.

As the echoes of battle faded and the dust settled, YN staggered towards Cassian, her strength waning with each step. The adrenaline that had fuelled her through the fight began to ebb away, leaving her feeling drained and exhausted.

Cassian's heart clenched with concern as he watched her approach, her movements unsteady and uncertain. Without hesitation, he rushed forward to meet her, his arms reaching out to catch her before she could collapse.

"YN, are you alright?" he asked, his voice laced with worry as he supported her weight against him.

YN shook her head weakly, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she leaned heavily against Cassian. "I... I'm okay. Just... tired."

Cassian's grip tightened around her, his worry deepening at the sight of her weakened state. "You pushed yourself too hard," he murmured, his voice filled with concern. "Let me help you."

With gentle hands, Cassian guided YN to a nearby rock, easing her down onto its surface with the utmost care. He knelt beside her, his eyes scanning her face for any signs of distress as he checked her over for injuries.

"You're going to be alright," he reassured her, his voice soft but filled with conviction. "Just rest for a moment. I'll take care of you."

YN nodded weakly, her eyes fluttering closed as exhaustion washed over her like a tidal wave. She felt Cassian's hand brushing back her hair, his touch a comforting presence in the midst of the chaos that surrounded them.

Cassian's hands moved with practiced gentleness as he stripped YN of her shirt, his heart sinking as he saw the extent of her injuries. Along her back, where her wings should have been, there were only ragged remnants, the telltale signs of a brutal attack.

His breath caught in his throat as he realized what had happened. YN was an Illyrian warrior, her wings a symbol of her strength and pride. To have them cut off in battle was a devastating blow, both physically and emotionally.

Gently, Cassian examined the wounds, his fingers tracing the edges of the gashes with a careful touch. YN winced in pain, but she made no sound, her jaw clenched with determination as she endured his ministrations.

"I'm sorry," Cassian murmured, his voice heavy with regret as he met her gaze. "I should have been there to protect you."

YN shook her head, her expression fierce despite the pain etched on her features. "It's not your fault," she insisted, her voice a whisper. "We were outnumbered... it was bound to happen."

Cassian's heart ached at her words, the weight of his failure settling heavily on his shoulders. But he knew that now was not the time for self-pity. YN needed him, and he would do whatever it took to help her through this.

With gentle hands, Cassian tended to YN's wounds as best he could, bandaging them as carefully as possible to prevent infection. He could see the pain etched in every line of her face, but she remained stoic, refusing to let it show.

As he worked, Cassian couldn't help but admire YN's strength and resilience in the face of adversity. Despite the horrors she had endured, she remained unbowed, her spirit unbroken.

And as he looked into her eyes, Cassian knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, bound by a bond that was stronger than any wound.

Guilt weighed heavily on Cassian's shoulders as he tended to YN's wounds, his heart heavy with the burden of failure. He had sworn to protect his comrades, to keep them safe from harm, yet he had failed in his duty. YN, Azriel's lover and his right hand warrior, had suffered a grievous injury under his watch.

As he worked, his mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. Anger at the enemy who had perpetrated such a cowardly act. Regret for not being able to prevent it. And above all, guilt for not being able to protect YN, a warrior he held dear to his heart.

He couldn't shake the feeling that he had let down not only YN but also Azriel, his best friend and brother-in-arms. Azriel trusted him to keep YN safe, and Cassian had failed him.

But amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, Cassian found solace in the quiet strength of YN, who endured her pain with a stoicism that spoke volumes of her resilience. Despite the loss of her wings, she remained unbroken, her spirit undiminished by the cruel hand fate had dealt her.

As he finished bandaging her wounds, Cassian looked into YN's eyes, seeking forgiveness in their depths. But instead of blame, he found understanding and acceptance, a silent reassurance that they would face whatever trials lay ahead together.

With a heavy heart, Cassian helped YN to her feet, supporting her with gentle hands as they prepared to return to the safety of the Night Court. And as they walked side by side, Cassian knew that he would do everything in his power to make amends for his failure, to ensure that YN's sacrifice would not be in vain.

As YN attempted to stand on her own, her weakened state became apparent. With each step, her legs trembled beneath her, threatening to give way at any moment. Determination etched on her face, she pressed forward, determined to prove her strength.

But just as Cassian watched her with concern, her strength faltered, and she stumbled, her legs buckling beneath her. With a gasp, she fell back, only to be caught by Cassian's strong arms once again.

Cassian's heart clenched at the sight of YN struggling, her body betraying her fierce spirit. Gently, he lifted her into his arms, cradling her close to his chest as he held her securely.

"It's alright, YN," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil of her thoughts. "You don't have to do this alone. I've got you."

YN leaned into him, grateful for the comfort and strength he offered. She felt a surge of gratitude for his unwavering support, his presence a source of solace in the midst of her pain.

With Cassian's help, they made their way back to the safety of the Night Court, his steady stride carrying them forward with purpose. And as they walked, YN found reassurance in the knowledge that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as she had Cassian by her side, she would never have to face them alone.

----

In the main room of the Night Court, Rhysand, Azriel, and Feyre sat in a solemn silence, their thoughts heavy with concern. Rhysand watched Azriel closely, sensing the tension that coiled beneath his calm exterior. He knew that Azriel was troubled, but the cause remained a mystery.

"Az," Rhysand began, his voice gentle yet probing. "You seem... on edge. Is everything alright?"

Azriel's jaw clenched, his expression guarded as he struggled to contain the storm of emotions raging within him. "I'm... not sure," he admitted reluctantly. "Something doesn't feel right."

Feyre exchanged a worried glance with Rhysand before reaching out to place a comforting hand on Azriel's arm. "Whatever it is, we're here for you," she reassured him.

Azriel nodded, grateful for their support, but his mind was consumed with worry for YN. She and Cassian had been sent to the borders, and they hadn't returned as expected. The uncertainty gnawed at him, a cold dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

"It's YN," Azriel confessed, his voice heavy with concern. "She and Cassian were supposed to return from the borders, but... they haven't."

Rhysand's brows furrowed with concern as he absorbed the news. "Do you think something happened to them?"

Azriel shook his head, his unease growing with each passing moment. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I fear the worst."

As they sat in uneasy silence, the weight of their worry pressing down on them like a leaden sky, Azriel couldn't shake the feeling of impending doom that hung over them. He knew that until they had answers about YN and Cassian's whereabouts, he wouldn't be able to find peace.

And so, with a heavy heart, Azriel resolved to do whatever it took to find them, to ensure that his beloved YN was safe and sound. For she was not just his lover, but his heart and soul, and he would move heaven and earth to bring her back to him.

A sudden crash shattered the tense silence in the main room of the Night Court, causing Rhysand, Azriel, and Feyre to leap to their feet in alarm. Their hearts pounded in their chests as they rushed to the balcony, where they were met with a sight that sent chills down their spines.

There, standing amidst the wreckage, was Cassian, his arms cradling YN's limp form. Her face was pale, her breathing shallow and uneven, a stark contrast to the fierce warrior they knew her to be.

Without a word, Rhysand and Feyre rushed forward, their hands reaching out to help Cassian with his precious burden. Together, they carried YN inside, laying her gently on the nearest couch as they assessed her condition.

Azriel hovered nearby, his eyes fixed on YN's still form with a mixture of anguish and relief. He had feared the worst when Cassian hadn't returned, but seeing YN alive, even if unconscious, filled him with a sense of hope.

"What happened?" Rhysand demanded, his voice tight with concern as he turned to Cassian.

Cassian's jaw clenched, his eyes dark with worry as he recounted the events that had transpired at the borders. The ambush, the battle, and finally, YN's injuries. He spared no detail, his voice raw with emotion as he relived the harrowing ordeal.

As he spoke, Feyre tended to YN's injuries, her hands moving with practiced skill as she worked to stabilize her condition. Rhysand stood beside her, his gaze never leaving YN's face as he silently willed her to awaken.

And then, just as Cassian finished his tale, YN stirred, her eyelids fluttering open as she slowly regained consciousness. Her eyes met Azriel's, and in that moment, all the pain and worry melted away, replaced by the overwhelming relief of knowing that she was safe.

With tears in his eyes, Azriel reached out, his hand finding YN's and squeezing it tightly. "You're safe," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "That's all that matters."

As YN slowly regained consciousness, Azriel held her close, his heart pounding with relief at the sight of her awake and aware. He cradled her gently in his arms, whispering words of reassurance and love as he pressed a tender kiss to her forehead.

But even as he held her, Azriel's worry lingered like a shadow, his thoughts consumed by the gravity of YN's injuries. He knew that she needed more than just his comfort; she needed the skilled hands of Madja, the court healer, to tend to her wounds.

Feyre, ever quick and resourceful, sprang into action without hesitation. With a determined look in her eyes, she rushed from the room, her footsteps echoing down the corridor as she made her way to Madja's chambers.

Azriel watched her go, his heart filled with gratitude for her swift action. He knew that Madja would do everything in her power to heal YN, to ease her pain and set her on the path to recovery.

As they waited for Feyre and Madja to return, Azriel held YN close, his arms a comforting anchor in the midst of uncertainty. He pressed kisses to her temple, her cheek, her lips, pouring all his love and devotion into each tender gesture.

And as he held her, Azriel vowed to do whatever it took to keep her safe, to protect her from harm and ensure that she never had to face such danger again. For she was not just his lover, but his heart and soul, and he would move heaven and earth to keep her by his side, safe and sound, for all eternity.

As Feyre returned with Madja in tow, the healer wasted no time in assessing YN's injuries. With a practiced eye, she examined the wounds where YN's wings had been severed, her expression grave as she took in the extent of the damage.

"This is serious," Madja murmured, her voice tinged with concern. "The risk of infection is high, especially given the manner in which the wings were cut off. We need to move her immediately."

Azriel's heart clenched at the severity of Madja's words, his fear for YN's well-being mounting with each passing moment. He knew that Madja was right; they couldn't afford to waste any time if they were to prevent further complications.

"What do we need to do?" Rhysand asked, his voice steady despite the worry etched on his face.

Madja turned to him, her expression determined. "We need to get YN to the healing chambers as quickly as possible," she explained. "There, I can perform the necessary treatments to cleanse the wounds and administer the proper medicines to stave off infection."

Without hesitation, Rhysand and Cassian sprang into action, moving to carefully lift YN from the couch and prepare her for transport. Azriel hovered close by, his eyes never leaving YN's face as he watched with bated breath.

As they carried YN from the room, Azriel walked alongside them, his hand clasped tightly in hers. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gnawed at his insides, but he drew strength from the knowledge that they were doing everything they could to save her.

Together, they made their way to the healing chambers, their hearts heavy with worry but filled with hope that Madja would be able to heal YN's wounds and set her on the path to recovery. And as they arrived at their destination, they knew that they would do whatever it took to ensure that YN emerged from this ordeal stronger than ever before.

As they carefully laid YN down on the healing bed, Rhysand leaned in close, his voice soft with concern. "YN, would you like me to take away the pain, just for a while? It may make it easier for you to bear."

YN's eyes fluttered open, her gaze meeting Rhysand's with a mixture of gratitude and determination. Despite the agony she was undoubtedly experiencing, she shook her head weakly.

"No," she whispered, her voice barely above a hoarse whisper. "I want to feel everything. I need to know what's happening."

Rhysand and the others exchanged surprised glances, their brows furrowing with concern at YN's refusal of relief. But Azriel, ever understanding, placed a comforting hand on YN's shoulder, his eyes full of respect for her wishes.

"It's your decision, YN," he murmured, his voice filled with unwavering support. "We'll be here for you, no matter what."

YN managed a weak smile, her heart swelling with gratitude for Azriel's understanding. She knew that he, of all people, would respect her autonomy and her right to make her own choices, even in the face of adversity.

As Madja began her work, YN braced herself for the pain that would inevitably follow. She squeezed Azriel's hand tightly, drawing strength from his unwavering presence by her side.

Outside the healing chambers, the air was thick with tension as Rhysand, Cassian, and Feyre waited anxiously. They could hear YN's cries of pain echoing from within, each sound a dagger to their hearts as they struggled to imagine the agony she was enduring.

Rhysand paced back and forth, his jaw clenched with worry as he listened to YN's anguished cries. He longed to go to her side, to offer her comfort and support in her time of need, but he knew that Madja needed space to work her healing magic.

Cassian's fists were clenched at his sides, his eyes burning with unshed tears as he struggled to contain his emotions. YN was his closest friend, his confidante, and the thought of her suffering tore at his soul like nothing else.

Feyre stood beside them, her hands wringing nervously as she listened to YN's cries. She longed to offer her own healing abilities to ease YN's pain, but she knew that Madja was more than capable of handling the situation.

Meanwhile, inside the healing chambers, Azriel remained by YN's side, his heart breaking with each cry of pain that escaped her lips. He held her hand tightly, his touch a silent reassurance of his unwavering support and love.

As Madja worked her healing magic, Azriel leaned in close to YN, his lips brushing against her hand in a tender kiss. He whispered words of encouragement and love, his voice a soothing melody in the midst of her agony.

And though YN's screams and whimpers echoed throughout the Night Court, Azriel remained steadfast by her side, his presence a beacon of light in the darkness. For he knew that no matter how long the night may seem, dawn would eventually break, bringing with it the promise of a new day and the hope of healing and renewal.

As Madja finished her work and emerged from the healing chambers, Azriel stepped out to join the rest of the group. His eyes, usually so stoic and composed, were now filled with tears, a testament to the emotional turmoil he had endured while YN was undergoing treatment.

Rhysand, Cassian, and Feyre rushed forward to meet him, their expressions a mix of relief and concern. They could see the toll the ordeal had taken on Azriel, his usually unshakeable demeanor shaken by the fear of losing the woman he loved.

"Is she...?" Rhysand began, his voice trailing off as he searched Azriel's face for any sign of hope or despair.

Azriel nodded, a small but genuine smile touching his lips as he wiped away a stray tear. "She's going to be okay," he confirmed, his voice thick with emotion. "Madja managed to cleanse the wounds and prevent infection. YN will make a full recovery."

A collective sigh of relief swept through the group, the weight of worry lifting from their shoulders like a heavy burden lifted. Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder, a silent gesture of solidarity and support.

Feyre reached out, her hand finding Azriel's and squeezing it tightly. "I'm so glad she's going to be alright," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine relief.

Azriel nodded, his gratitude for their support evident in his eyes. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I don't know what I would have done without all of you."

As they stood together, united in their love and concern for YN, Azriel felt a sense of overwhelming gratitude wash over him. He knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as they stood together, they would be able to weather any storm that came their way. And with YN on the path to recovery, he allowed himself to hope for a brighter future, filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities.

----

Three weeks had passed since the harrowing incident that changed YN's life forever. In that time, she had undergone a transformation, both physically and emotionally. Though her bond with Azriel had grown stronger, the loss of her wings weighed heavily on her spirit.

Unable to work and grounded from the skies that had once been her sanctuary, YN found herself adrift, her sense of purpose shaken to its core. She spent her days sitting alone on the balcony, watching as the world carried on around her, feeling utterly powerless and useless.

Azriel did his best to support her, his love and devotion unwavering in the face of her pain and frustration. He sat by her side, holding her hand and offering words of comfort and reassurance, but he knew that nothing he said could erase the ache in her heart or the longing in her soul.

As the days stretched into weeks, YN found herself consumed by a sense of grief and longing for the life she had lost. She missed the freedom of the skies, the rush of wind beneath her wings, and the feeling of weightlessness as she soared through the clouds.

But as she gazed out at the horizon, her eyes filled with unshed tears, YN knew that she had to find a way to move forward, to forge a new path for herself in this unfamiliar world. She may never fly again, but she refused to let her wings be the only thing that defined her.

With Azriel's unwavering support and the love of her friends by her side, YN vowed to embrace this new chapter of her life with courage and resilience. She may be grounded for now, but she refused to let her spirit be tethered by the chains of despair.

And as she sat on the balcony, her heart heavy with sorrow yet filled with determination, YN knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, she would face them head-on, with her head held high and her spirit unbroken. For she was not defined by her wings, but by the strength and courage that dwelled within her soul.

As Azriel returned from his duties as a spy, he found YN sitting alone on the balcony, lost in her thoughts. Without a word, he approached her, his footsteps silent against the cool stone floor. Gently, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him in a warm embrace.

YN leaned back into his embrace, feeling the strength and solidity of his presence surrounding her like a protective shield. She sighed softly, finding solace in the warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of his skin comforting and reassuring.

For a long moment, they simply stood there together, the only sound the gentle rustle of the breeze as it danced through the air. Azriel pressed a kiss to the top of YN's head, his lips lingering against her hair as he held her close.

"I'm here, YN," he murmured softly, his voice a soothing murmur against her ear. "You're not alone."

YN turned in his arms, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of gratitude and love. She reached up to cup his face in her hands, her touch gentle yet filled with an intensity that spoke volumes of her feelings for him.

"Thank you, Az," she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. "For always being here for me, even when I feel like I'm falling apart."

Azriel brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. "You never have to thank me, YN," he replied, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

And as they stood together on the balcony, their hearts entwined in a bond that could never be broken, YN knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as she had Azriel by her side, she would always find the strength to face them. For their love was a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding them through even the toughest of times, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

As YN turned to face Azriel, her heart heavy with uncertainty, she couldn't help but voice the fear that had been gnawing at her soul since the loss of her wings.

"Do you... love me less now?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes searching his for any sign of doubt or hesitation.

Azriel's brow furrowed with concern as he met her gaze, his eyes filled with warmth and understanding. He reached out to cup her face in his hands, his touch gentle yet filled with an intensity that took her breath away.

"Never, YN," he replied, his voice firm with conviction. "Not for a moment. Your wings were never what made me love you. It's your strength, your courage, your compassion... those are the things that make you who you are."

He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tears that shimmered in her eyes. "You are more than your wings, YN. You always have been, and you always will be. And nothing will ever change that."

YN's heart swelled with emotion at his words, her fears melting away in the warmth of his love. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as if to anchor herself to the truth of his words.

"Thank you, Az," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I love you."

Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering against her skin in a silent promise of forever. "And I love you, YN," he murmured, his voice filled with a depth of feeling that took her breath away.

And as they stood there together, wrapped in each other's arms, YN knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as she had Azriel's love to guide her, she would always find the strength to soar, even without her wings. For their love was a force of nature, unbreakable and eternal, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Azriel's lips met YN's in a tender kiss, a silent affirmation of his love and devotion. As they melted into each other's embrace, he trailed his fingers along the scars that marred her back, his touch gentle yet filled with reverence.

Each scar told a story of battles fought and sacrifices made, a testament to YN's strength and resilience in the face of adversity. Azriel traced the lines of each mark with care, his heart heavy with the weight of her pain and the depth of his love for her.

"You are so brave, YN," he murmured against her lips, his voice a soft whisper in the quiet of the night. "I admire you more than words can express."

YN's breath caught in her throat at his words, her heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the man who stood before her, his love a beacon of light in the darkness.

"I couldn't have made it through this without you, Az," she replied, her voice filled with emotion. "You're my strength, my rock."

Azriel pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her with a fierce protectiveness. "And you're mine," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "Always and forever."

And as they stood there together, their scars a reminder of the battles they had fought and the love that had seen them through, YN knew that no matter what the future held, as long as she had Azriel by her side, she would always find the strength to face it, one day at a time. For their love was a bond that transcended time and space, unbreakable and eternal, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@kmc1989

@hardballoonlove

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@marvel-molly

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger

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