#azriel shadowsinger blurb

[k-daydreams]

My Fearless Mate

Pairing: Azriel Shadowsinger x daemati!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: misogyny, graphic, Fluff at the end!

Based off this ask

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You hated traveling to the war camps. Especially in the winter. Even as you walked arm in arm pressed up as close as you could against your mate, Azriel, the heat did not help against the bitter wind and cold nipping at your face. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel had been here just paying their usual visit to make sure Lord Devlon was doing his job and ensuring the girls were training. They had been here for a few days already and you had desperately missed Az that you swallowed your pride and hatred towards the camp and Illyrian culture to see your mate. You hadn’t let him know you were coming, it was a surprise, a damn good one indeed.

Not only was the shock evident on his face as you winnowed into the middle of the camp. His shadows had excitedly darted to you in greeting as soon as he caught your scent from the dark swirling clouds winnowing. The Illyrian warriors were taken back as well. Disgust and surprise written all over their faces, but you didn’t care. You practically ran to Azriel giddily greeting him with a kiss on his cheek as he wrapped his arms tightly around you. He tried to keep his mask of iciness on, but you could feel his toothy grin in the crook of your neck, his dissolve fading in your arms.

He led you around the camp, telling you all the updates, and you filled him in on what you had spent the last few days doing in Velaris. You watched as the warriors trained in the sparring rings. Then you came to a sparring ring with a couple girls cornered by some higher ranked warrior commanders. You halted in your steps, causing Azriel to stop mid sentence.

“You’re supposed to be doing your chores.” One of the males said to the young girls who had to be no older than twelve. His siphons were half the size of the girl’s head.

“W-we’re done, the high lord said we could train as we pleased.” She stammered.

“There is always work to be done.” Another warrior countered back. “The sparring ring is no place for a girl, no matter what the high lord says.” Azriel tensed at that, and you looked up to your mate biting your lip anxiously. You had let go of his arm, on alert for what was about to unfold.

“The high lord’s orders go above yours.” The other girl stepped up to the male ten times her size. Defiance in her small voice as she pushed the other girl behind her. Satisfaction prickled at your skin, but you knew this wasn’t going to end well. The males scoffed and glowered towards them. Your face and ears heated.

“The high lord doesn’t have a say in your punishment though.” One grabbed the more defiant girl’s arm. She tried to get out of his clutch, but he was far more stronger than her. Azriel was ready to walk towards them, but you beat him to it. Rage filled you to the point you had tunnel vision, marching over. How dare these assholes.

“Hey! You let them go!” You yelled at the warriors as another grabbed the other girl. She was shaking in his grasp, scared out of her mind, a terrified look in her brown eyes as she made eye contact with you.

The warriors laughed at you as you approached. “I didn’t realize they opened camp borders to courtiers.” One mocked you while the other bellowed even louder. You narrowed your eyes at him, feeling the familiar sensation in your bones. Azriel tugged on the bond as warning, but you ignored him. Other warriors and workers had stopped what they were doing, noticing the commotion.

You clenched your gloved fists, “it would be wise if you did as I say.”

“What or you'll file a formal complaint with the high lord?” He sneered sarcastically. You could feel your blood get hot and the taste of magic tang on your tongue. A wave of power rolled off you settling over the camp.

The one that seemed the most powerful walked towards you, his nostrils flared like he was a wild beast. “You have no authority in this camp.”

Azriel tugged again on the invisible thread that connected you two together. A silent reassuring stroke that gave you the silent permission to let go of your control if needed.

“I am one of the high lord’s secondhand commands, I see that as good enough authority.” You stuck your nose high up, not intimidated by the size of a warrior. He continued towards you like a predator. He wanted you to be his prey. Unfortunately for him, you had considered yourself a much more dangerous predator. Already prowling and circling around him, getting ready to pounce.

“I believe that means my authority outranks your authority.” You said almost too casually. “Now as I said before—let. them. go.”

The two warriors behind the aloof meathead in front of you now looked wary towards your opposition. But they held a firm grip on the young girls, the one in front of you puffing out his chest, wings flaring as wide as they could go.

“You are no more than a fae female to me,” he got mere inches from your face looking down at you with a disgusting rage. You could feel specks of saliva hit your face as he spoke, but you didn’t flinch. “And you know what we do to fae females? We take them into the forest in the middle of the night and we sully—“

Before he could finish, he dropped to the ground howling in agony writhing in the mud. You just merely narrowed your eyes, twisting the invisible ropes around his mind and body. Your daemati powers had overtaken your instincts with every twist you envisioned.

“What was that?” You asked innocently, slamming your heavy icy muddy boot atop his abdomen. He hissed, snarling at you like a rabid animal trying to fight the power that you coursed through him. You dug the heel of your boot with a bruising force. The crowd that circled gone quiet with the roar of the Illyrian male that convulsed under your boot.

“Now you listen to me,” you bent down looking at him, forcing his eyes to look towards you. His face beet red, eyes bulging in horror as you infiltrated his brain further. No mental shields, just a wide open gate to walk through. “You let the girls train and you don’t bother them ever. I don’t want you to even breathe their way again, and if I ever—ever hear a word about you going against the high lord’s or my order…” you lunged into the deepest part of his mind.

I’ll personally clip your wings myself. You had threatened him mentally.

You released the invisible force upon him, and lifted your boot from his abdomen. He rolled away, panting to catch his breath. You looked up from him and saw the two warriors holding the girls. You strided towards them, and they all but threw the young illyrians in your direction. Both of landing on the ground with a hard thud.

“W-what are you?” The one male asked terrified, backing away with the other.

You glared at them, “that’s none of your concern. What is your concern is bringing your commander to first aid before you end up like him.” They kept still, watching you bend down to the two girls. “Now!” You demanded. They scurried off like field mice to their brother who laid in the mud nearly unconscious.

Bringing your attention to girls, smiling softly at their scared faces. They rubbed their arms where the men had gripped them. “Did they hurt you?” You asked.

“I’m not sure,” the more timid one answered first, rolling up her long sleeve to check. You gently examined the forming bruise around her arm, frowning slightly.

“You two were so courageous to stick up to them. You will both be strong warriors one day.” You looked at the other’s arm. Her arm is much more swollen than her friend’s. You smiled reassuringly at them, “I’ll have someone bring you two to our house to have the healer tend to you.” You took a hold of both their hands, helping them up, leading them to your mate and friends.

“Cassian get a healer to the house,” Azriel asked for you, wholly keeping his eyes locked on you.

“Of course,” Cassian winked at you slyly when he passed. Proceeding to yell at everyone to get back to work while he made his way to the first aid tent. Rhys chuckled, patting Azriel on the shoulder.

“I know,” He guided the girls to his mother’s old house by your request, leaving you and Azriel alone.

His eyes were still fixated on you, hazel orbs shining brightly, mouth slightly agape. He didn’t have to say anything because you felt it. Adoration, pride, and pure love swelled down the bond.

I absolutely adore you. He spoke to you mentally. You caressed the shadows that even swirled in his mind, stroking gently. His wings rustled slightly, unable to contain it.

Wrapping his arm around you, he led you to the house to go check on the girls. A couple people still looked at you with terrifed expressions. Azriel’s lip curled upward to ghost of smirk before kissing your brow sweetly. You were his fearless mate.

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[princess-tulip-writes]

late night gossip • azriel shadowsinger

summary: just a little slice of life blurb with azriel and his mate making fun of cassian before bed :)

“you’re so sweet, sweetheart.” azriel chuckled out, a playful look in his eyes as they stayed on your smiling face. “go on, tell me more.”

“then, nesta was beating him with the walking stick!” you exclaimed, irrupting into laughter at the memory of your best friend and his mate getting into a foolish fight.

your mate joined you, imagining what the sight would be like and finding it utterly hilarious. the sound was unfamiliar to many, the shadowsinger always stoic and professional around most— others were sure that the male couldn’t all but smile or chuckle, never laugh.

but, around his family— around you, laughter was a common reaction from azriel.

“please tell me he screamed.” he added hopefully.

your eyes widened as you leaned over the table dramatically, your palms slapping hard onto the wood as you lunged forward; your mate hadn’t even flinched.

“he did! like a female! it was amazing.” you answered, laughter increasing between you two.

the sight of you two was like a painting of your high lady’s; a beautiful, domestic setting of two lovers having a laugh as they ate dinner and caught up with eachother’s day.

azriel’s hair was growing out past his rounded ears and had turned a bit curlier than usual. you found it absolutely stunning how he could pull off anything, especially the stray curl that fell over his face just then as he leaned back and laughed freely.

you sat across from one another at the table, staring at each other as you both giggled. the fire was burning next to you both, and a vase of flowers sat in the middle of the wooden table azriel made on your honeymoon.

the scene was something out of a domestic day dream and neither of you wanted to snap out of it. ever.

his grin was wide, beautiful teeth flashing at you as he caught his breath, raven hair falling over his hazel eyes that showed nothing but adoration for you.

“it’s really humbling for him, honestly.” you added, a tear falling down your eyes from laughter.

he agreed, and in addition shared with you a silly memory from his younger years that humbled the mighty general even more in your eyes. by the end of the story, you both were nearly falling off your chairs.

“no way! three times?” you wailed between cackled roars. “he fell for it three times?”

azriel giggled— actually giggled, with his tongue caught between his teeth prettily as he nodded excitedly in confirmation.

a beat passed before you inhaled sharply, fighting to brung air back into your lungs weakly. the euphoria of laughing and feeling the shared happiness with your mate made you feel full yet lightheaded, but you’d never complain when it was only you, other than his family, who got to have moments like this with him.

“cassian could never tell when we were fucking with him or not.” he said after he caught his breath. “it’s what made everything so entertaining.”

even though he had been roaring with joy for the past hour, his voice still the same as it always sounded when he was with you; soft, steady and deep.

your heart thumped into your stomach at the almost steady sound returning, heat flooding your cheeks as if it was your first time hearing it again. this was one of those random times where you silently thanked the mother for giving him to you so kindly.

the air settled after a few minutes of pure, blissful silence as you both caught up to your breaths and tried to ease the painful smiles that now stung your cheeks, but it was difficult given how much happiness poured from each of you.

finally, azriel cleared his throat; a smooth, deep sound that scratched the quiet room.

“my love, i have enjoyed this evening so much, thank you.” he smiled softly, purely. “let’s go to bed.”

you smiled back lazily and nodded in agreement, deciding that you were a tad drowsy as well.

“of course, my love.”

[angelsandstxrs]

the high lord keeps interrupting azriel and his mate, until she finally has enough

warnings: 18+, achingly inaccurate to anything acotar, badly written brainstorming as usual, no usage of Y/N so probs a bit confusing at times, smut, azriel wanting employee of the month, (let me know if there’s anything else) words: ~4.2k

It wasn’t uncommon for Azriel to be called by the High Lord at ungodly hours. His work was needed more than often at night, or over a multitude of days or weeks. Her mate's lack of a schedule meant that he’d been called from her more than once when they had been together, and she’d been understanding, until Rhysand seemed to have taken it upon himself to interrupt all her alone time with her mate.

-

“Right there, Az-,” she gasped, fingers tightening in the silky hair under her hand and forcing a growl from the male between her legs. “Oh, gods—“

Her head tipped back against the cold marble wall, eyes closed and face turned towards the high curved ceiling above her. The vacant hallway they had found themselves in was bathing in darkness, both from the usual depressing state of the Court of Nightmares, but also from Azriel’s shadows covering them both and hiding them from the potential threat of any straggling visitors. One of said shadows slid up her leg, under the opening of her dress messily pushed over her hips, passing over the big palm sprawled firmly over the entirety of her lower back, before teasingly drawing around to her front and caressing her cleavage heaving in the neckline of her dress.

A second growl vibrated against her pulsating heat, this time sounding less pleasured and more agitated. The difference was not lost on her, even with her hips desperately grinding down on his tongue, searching for a release from the pleasure coursing through her. The hand on her lower back pulled lower, and for a blissful second she thought his irritation was sourced from her squirming, that she’d receive a sharp slap on the flesh he was digging his fingers into and perhaps a growled warning to Stay still. 

The thought alone had her core curling tight, breaths shortening in preparation for an orgasm — that faded away to dust when her mate pulled away with an even angrier sound she knew wasn’t aimed at her.

“It’s Rhys.” 

The panted exclamation had her tilting her head forward with a quiet groan, eyes sliding open to find Azriel peering up at her from where he was kneeling at her feet, hazel eyes glassed over and jaw clenched tight as he communicated with the High Lord. 

“He’s asking for us.” His voice came from the back of his throat, thick and strained.

She licked her lips, heart pounding in her chest and thighs still tensed in the promise of the shattering orgasm she had been seconds away from.

“Right now?” She pointlessly asked, already knowing the answer.

“Right now.” Azriel confirmed as he eased her leg off his shoulder, careful of her sharp heels near his wings. 

Another quiet groan slipped past her lips, and this time she tilted her head back in exasperation, making no move to help the warm calloused hands tugging her dress down into place again.

“I hate him.” She grumbled and watched Azriel stand, straightening in front of her.

“Don’t pout, angel,” He tilted her chin up with a finger, giving her a soft peck before pulling away with a quietly amused expression. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

She gave him a glare without any real malice behind it, mostly to wind him up a little for later.

“You better.” 

-

He didn’t make it up to her that night. As usual, their visit in the Court of Nightmares didn’t end without trouble, and Rhysand had sent his Spymaster out on a mission before they’d even returned to Velaris. She didn’t know the specifics of the mission, most of the time she didn’t want to know beforehand. It saved her the sleepless nights and worries about if this would be the time he didn’t make it back. With only her imagination she could pretend he was safe and sound, that Rhysand had sent him to check the water levels in the ocean or anything else without any dangers.

The only sign of his distance was the mating bond growing restless, perhaps it had also been fueled by the way he’d been taken from her, but when Azriel returned after a week, she was starving for him.

She was cleaning up in the kitchen after dinner when the mating bond tightened at the same time something familiar brushed against her leg. Looking down, she found a stray shadow coiling around her ankle, eagerly swirling up the expanse of her calf.

Dishes long forgotten, she quickly wiped her hands and hurried out to the foyer, smile widening as the sound of the door opening reached her ears. More shadows flocked her, she payed them no mind as threw herself into their master’s awaiting arms. Azriel lifted her easily off the ground, winding her legs around his hips. His wings, as always, wrapped around them as if shielding them from the world.

She hugged him tighter and buried her face into his neck, drowning herself in his scent.

“Welcome home, my love.” Her words were muffled against the warm skin of his neck.

His smile widened enough for her to feel it against her shoulder before he quietly breathed out, “I missed you so much, angel.”

The plans to have him take a seat at the dining table and feed him the plate of leftovers she’d spared for him just in case, flew out of her head the second his hand tangled in her hair and guided her mouth to his. Kissing Azriel was always mind-numbing and consuming, especially when she hadn’t seen him in a week. It left her desperately holding onto him, fingers pulling through his messily tousled hair as if she could force him even closer. She barely registered him winnowing, only the sudden tilt of her world when he fell back on their bed with her still on top of him.

Planting her knees on the mattress, she straddled his lap as her fingers danced over his leathers, unbuckling and unlacing the sleek buckles and laces. She’d done it countless times, could probably do it blindfolded with her hands tied if she really needed to.

Azriel sighed happily against her lips when she shedded the jacket and undershirt off him, discarding it to the bedroom floor. Her palms greedily slid over his abdomen, taking in the toned muscles honed from centuries of hard training. Another breathy sound emitted from him, this time caused by her hips circling over his lap, grinding down on the hard bulge underneath her.

“Gods-, I missed you.” He repeated as his hands palmed up her thighs, sliding under the oversized shirt that was probably one of his old ones.

“Missed you too.” She panted, pulling back and reaching for the edge of the shirt to lift it over her head. He stopped her, hazel eyes burning wildly and lips swollen as he blinked up at her.

“Leave it on.” 

Giving a half-minded nod, she leaned forward to continue when he suddenly stilled underneath her. 

“Rhys wants my mission report.” He pulled away to talk, words halfway muffled into the kiss.

“Mhm.” She kissed him again, reveling in the taste of him after a long week without him. This time he reciprocated fully, slow and indulging, fueled by the same longing she was feeling.

“I have to go, angel.” He protested half-heartedly against her lips, filling his palms with handfuls of her backside.

“Tell him he can wait.” She tried to persuade him, trailing her kisses lower, down over his collarbones and to the muscular planes of his chest.

Azriel sighed wearily, hands falling from her body to the mattress with a dull thump. Pulling back, she sat up in his lap and stubbornly crossed her arms.

“You know I can’t do that.” He said, the smooth drawl of his voice even softer than usual, hazel eyes round and pleading.

“How long will it take?” She asked, having a bad feeling it wasn’t going to be a quick affair.

“A few hours.” Azriel confirmed her suspicions, giving her an apologetic look.

With a reluctant sigh, she slid off his lap and settled into bed.

“Tell Rhys I hate him.” She drawled sarcastically when he reached for his undershirt from the floor, swiftly pulling it over his head.

“He already knows.” He teased, eyes glinting with quiet amusement when she rolled her eyes. 

“Go now, shadowsinger. I’ll wait up for you.” She hurriedly waved him off, wanting him to return quicker. Azriel chuckled, shaking his head with a smile before he left.

She tried to wait up for him, but eventually fell asleep. Half-expecting the bed to be empty she was more than happy when she woke up in the comforting warmth of her mate’s arms, his snores low against the top of her head.

The first tired rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, bathing the bedroom in a warm glow and forcing her to blink a few times to adjust her eyes to the light. Azriel’s deep breaths over her head kept steady, the sound alone made her smile. She could spend hours like this, there was nowhere she felt more safe or comfortable than in his embrace, but the nagging reminder that he hadn’t eaten anything yesterday made her mind restless.

Lifting his arm slowly, she tried to slide out of his grasp without waking him. As if wanting her to fail, the shadows that had been idly dispersed around the room took notice of her, and before she could dismiss them, dark tendrils were leisurely crawling up on the bed and reaching out to affectionately stroke her cheek.

She knew from experience it was no use to ask them to leave now, and relaxed back against their master right before his arms tightened and forced her to him again.  

“Stay.” The blunt order sounded less commanding with his sleep-coated voice, barely more than a low rumble from the back of his throat.

“I was going to make you breakfast.” She said, softly tracing her fingers over his arm firmly secured around her waist. His face buried in her shoulder, soft black hair tickling her cheek when he simply shook his head.

“Later.” He gruffly replied, hand dipping under her camisole before his warm palm sprawled over her stomach.

“But you must be hungry. You’ve probably barely eaten, and you didn’t have dinner yesterday-,” Her worried rant was interrupted by a bite to the curve of her shoulder, words disappearing from her when his soft lips replaced his teeth and left a trail of soothing kisses over her bare skin.

“I’m fine, angel. Let me hold you for a second.” He murmured and buried his face in her neck, hand on her stomach pulling her closer.

With her backside flush to his hips, a new sort of heat spread across her body, flaring outwards from the depths of her core. He shifted behind her, as if to get comfortable, and the heavy, hot length of him ended up nestled against her backside. Suddenly the big palm on her stomach, pinky finger casually slipped underneath the waistband of her panties, didn’t feel so casual anymore. Neither did the arm secured under her chest, warm hand firmly planted on one of her covered breasts. 

Her body seemed to have been reminded of the pleasure it had been denied, not once but twice, in a short amount of time, nerves coming to life under his touch. But it was too selfish to shove his hand down her panties and arch her back in offering. He had been working. He needed sleep. 

She repeated those sentences as she tried to will her burning body to calm down and keep her self-control in check to not let the overwhelming desire control her. 

The pattern of his breaths suddenly changed.

Her brows furrowed in confusion before she realized what was happening. She tried to turn her head to glare at him, but his face firmly buried in her shoulder stopped her.

“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” She hissed when his chest shook with another round of silent laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Azriel chuckled, not sounding apologetic at all. His hand on her stomach slid slightly lower, ring finger dragging along the edge of her panties. “You’re too sweet.”

Whatever insult that had been spewing on her tongue was forgotten when he tilted his head, pressing a slow kiss to the side of her neck as one of his wings folded over them.

“Will you ever forgive me?” He murmured, still a teasing edge to his voice even as he snuck a leg between her own, hoisting her thigh to rest on his and leaving her spread open for him.

“I’ll have to-,” Her words caught in her throat when his fingers slid her panties to the side, softly grazing her folds. She swallowed thickly to clear her throat. “Think about it.”

Curling his fingers up to her swollen clit and rubbing lazy circles over the sensitive nub aching for attention, he hummed in acknowledgement, “Mhm.”

The circles on her clit tightened, grew slightly rougher, and she had no hope of holding back the gasped moan coming from her chest. His other hand slipped beneath the top of her camisole, rolling her perked nipple between skillful fingers. The pleasured pain shot like lightning down her spine, leaving her cunt clenching around nothing and eyes falling shut. Another open-mouthed messy kiss was placed on the side of her throat, surely leaving marks she’d have to cover today.

“Did you touch this pretty little cunt for me while I was gone?” Azriel husked against her skin, sounding like he already knew the answer. Which he probably did, considering he somehow always knew exactly what she had been up to when he was gone.

She shook her head, mouth parting around a soft gasp when two of the long thick digits slowly pressed inside her.

“No?” The pleased smirk on his face was so big it could be heard in his voice, making her body flush with warmth. “Such a good girl, aren’t you? Waiting for me to take care of you.”

His fingers thrusted into her in a steady pace, not with the purpose to make her come, but to ready her for something else. However with her body so high-strung, the friction of his fingers along her tightened walls had stars dancing across her eye-lids. And when they curled, pressing against that soft spot she couldn’t reach herself, a sharp gasp tumbled out of her as her body tensed, prepared to unfurl at the next touch.

“Not yet, angel,” Azriel reprimanded, hand pulling away from between her legs and forcing a pitiful whimper from her at the loss. “You’ll only come on my cock.” 

That promise had her mind reeling and hips instinctually arching back towards him.

“Please, Az-, I want it so bad-,” She sounded like a wanton whore, and she felt like one too when he shifted behind her, one arm still wound tight around her frame as he pushed his underwear down his legs.

A shadow wrapped itself around her upper thigh, suspending her leg higher over his muscular thigh and exposing her fully to the otherwise empty bedroom. She reached a hand back to curl around the back of his neck as his breaths grew labored beside her ear, giving himself a few careless tugs before his cock nudged at her pulsating heat.

Right when relief was in her grasp, he suddenly stilled, forehead coming to rest heavily against her shoulder as he let out a heavy sigh.

“No.” The dreadful exclamation flew out of her, sensing where her mate’s attention had gone when the shadows around them hesitantly drew away, somehow taking with them all the boiling tension that had been simmering around them.

“He has another mission for me.” Azriel’s exhale was low.

“But you just came back,” she found herself complaining, even if she knew it meant absolutely nothing. Turning in his hold to slide her palms over his chest and the Illyrian markings sweeping up his neck, she filled her eyes with as much pleading as she could. “Please, Az.”

He sighed again, hazel eyes full of warmth as he peered down at her pouting face.

“I’ll only be a few days. It’s a follow-up from this past week.” He explained, gently caressing her cheek with his knuckles.

“He can’t send you away when you’ve barely been home twelve hours! You need to eat too!” She argued, voice raising when she once again remembered that he hadn’t had dinner last night.

He visibly tried to fight it, but one corner of his mouth tilted in a slanted grin. The sight of the dimple in his cheek brightened the turmoil in her head slightly.

“I promise to eat.” He cooed, clearly amused at her worried state.

The pout on her face deepened, both at the implication that he was leaving and the sparkling mirth in her mate’s eyes.

“I’ll know if you lie.” She threatened, intertwining their hands and pressing them over her heart.

Azriel’s expression softened as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

“I’d never lie to you, angel.” 

She was still pouting as she watched him dress, the leathered uniform black as night even in the rising sun, siphons glowing brightly when he braced a hand on the bed and leaned over to give her a sweet kiss.

“Three days.” Azriel reminded as he pulled away.

“I love you. Be careful.” Her heart squeezed in her chest when he gave her another one of those dimpled grins that were reserved only for her.

“I love you more.” And with that he was gone, leaving her to plot her revenge for herself.

-

It was a carefully crafted plan. It had to be, with both Feyre and Rhysand’s ability to thread into her mind and see exactly what she had up her sleeve. 

She proposed some girl time to Feyre, and they made plans to go around town for an afternoon. During their stroll and mindless window shopping, she guided Feyre into the boutique at the end of the promenade, the one with lush velvet curtains and sparkling chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. The one with one-of-a-kind handcrafted lingerie. 

Under the guise that she had to pick up an ordered set, she pointed Feyre to the selective pieces of soft lace and shiny silk hanging along the walls. It was an easy feat to get her into the dressing room, even easier to plant the idea in her head.

“You know, Azriel goes crazy for these,” She toyed with the lace colored in a particular shade of blue in her hands, watching Feyre twirl in the dressing room. The High Lady peered at her through the mirror, curiosity shining in her blue eyes. “I like to make it into a game. To tease him. Whenever I buy anything new I put on a revealing dress over, just barely showing off the edges of the bra, or the outline of the garter-belt. It usually has him on his knees in no time.” 

Curiosity morphed into something else, something rather dark and wicked. And when the corner of Feyre’s mouth itched upwards before she asked the clerk, Do you have this in any other colors? — it was abundantly clear her plan had worked.

She smiled all the way home. Throughout her lonely dinner. When she pulled forth the ingredients to bake. As she packed the baked goods in a basket, draping the sweetness in a soft cloth.

When Feyre opened the door, cheeks slightly flushed and a silk robe carelessly tugged around her lithe body, flashes of black lace peeking out from the opening, she had to tune down the victorious grin wanting to carve her face. She’d timed it perfectly.

“Do you have a moment?” She innocently inquired, raising the basket with warm pastries to bring the younger fae’s attention to it.

Perhaps it was cruel to use Feyre’s kindness like this, but she reminded herself that the High Lord the kind girl had the displeasure of being mated to was far more evil. 

“Of course.” Feyre smiled, a forced and rushed expression, as she opened the front door wider. 

The High Lady and Lord’s house was as warm and inviting as always, especially with the candles lit around the living and dining room, clear evidence of a romantic evening.

Feyre walked her towards the sitting area, gesturing for her to have a seat in one of the couches as she did the same. Taking her time to place the basket on the table and make herself comfortable in the plush leather couch, she almost missed when the High Lady gracefully hid a piece of fabric that looked suspiciously close to a dress behind the decorative pillows.

“These are my favorites.” Feyre politely remarked, leaning forward and reaching for one of the freshly baked pastries in the basket.

“I’m glad you like them-,” She was interrupted by a presence that seemed to be vibrating with powerful darkness.

“What are you doing here?” Rhysand’s tone offered no politeness, unlike his graceful wife. His eyes narrowed in accusation when she innocently smiled up at his rigid form stood rooted in the doorway to their open living room.

“I made cardamom buns, and I remembered how much Feyre liked them last time-,”

“You came over now, with pastries?” His accusatory gaze pointedly glanced out the windows, to the pitch black darkness outside.

“Rhys.” Feyre hissed quietly, catching onto the unfamiliar irritation clouding the High Lord.

“I had no one else at home to share them with.” She answered, tilting her head to the side when Rhysand merely stared at her as if trying to force her out of his house without speaking. Centuries of friendship with the male had her knowing exactly what he was asking of her.

What do you want? His voice flooded her mind the second the dropped a portion of her mental shields.

Call Azriel back and give him a month off work.

He huffed out an unamused scoff, You had three months when you mated. You can have a day.

She fought back the urge to roll her eyes. That was centuries ago. A week without any disturbance. That’s my last offer.

His jaw tightened, eyes narrowing into slits.

Don’t test me, Rhys. I can show her the recipe. She threatened, filling her tone with as much conviction as she could.

Fine. One week. If he’s not back well-rested I’m blaming you.

“Well, I should head home.” She cleared her throat and offered Feyre a smile as the presence in her mind retreated.

The younger fae’s eyes widened, almost apologetically. “Oh, you don’t have-,”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Rhysand interrupted his wife, turning to almost point towards the front door. “It is awfully late.”

“I’ll leave these for you two,” She gestured to the basket of freshly baked pastries on the table as she headed out of the room, shooting Rhysand a quick smirk. “Trust me, you’ll need them after you’ve seen her in the red set.”

After winnowing home, she headed to the bathroom to get ready for bed. It only took a few minutes before the door to the ensuite creaked open, Azriel’s tall statue filling the doorframe.

“Welcome home, my love.” She smiled, running the brush in her hand over her hair.

It took him less than two strides to cross the distance between them, arms winding around her from behind before his head tilted down to press a sweet kiss to her cheek.

“What did you do?” His eyes met hers through the mirror as he straightened again.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She feigned innocence, leaning back into his embrace.

“You had nothing to do with Rhysand telling me he won’t be contacting me for a week?” He tilted his head down again, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Or that he called me back and told me to go home to my freakishly stubborn mate?”

“He said that?” A smile lifted her lips, growing further when her mate breathed out a low chuckle.

“I think he wanted to say even more. He sounded a little agitated.” 

“You know how he is. Always in a mood.” She teased, breaking their eye-contact to place the hairbrush in her hand back on the counter. With the movement, the opening of her robe widened and bared more of her chest. 

The grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into the silk of her robe as the siphons on the back of his hands flared with the same color as the lace of her lingerie now deliberately on show.

“I was thinking we could go up to the cabin, or I could ask Helion if we could spend a few days-,” The rest of her sentence dissolved into a cut-off gasp when she was abruptly bent over at the waist, shadows quickly dampening her fall to the granite counter. 

“Or I’ll have you right here for the rest of the week.” Azriel stated, bluntly pushing the bottom of the robe over her arched hips. 

“How unexciting.” She countered, albeit a bit breathlessly when the expensive lace adoring her backside was roughly ripped down to pool at her ankles.

Azriel laughed, a foot nudging between her own and forcing her legs apart. “Good thing we have plenty of time to make it exciting.”

(thank you so much for the support on my first post. much love xx)

[solbaby7]

Hii could I please get a neat Moscow mule with a salt rim ❤️

🧉here you go 💗💗

[ “i don’t like the way he / she looks at you” + smut + az ]

-> BLURB BAR <-

There had always been whispers about Illyrian males and the possessive streak that scorches its way through their veins. How it awakened with their first cry at birth and remains until their last breath.

You’d never thought you’d witness it firsthand.

Seeing that shift in Azriel’s features is unmistakable. The comfortable lines of his stoicism usually rests heavy along his brow bone, casting shadows along his eyes until the rich amber of his iris is stark in contrast. Even then, you’re used to seeing some semblance of warmth residing in there but the danger lingering within them now is staggering—forces the object of his surveillance to raise a hand to the back of their neck, eyes scanning the crowd for the culprit.

Az is too good to be caught though. Too skilled to be seen. A wolf that blends in seamlessly in a crowd full of sheep and he detects it immediately when another predator is present. “Who is that?”

You follow his line of sight, grumbling in distaste almost instantly when you notice that familiar tuft of curly blonde hair. “Tyson,” His brow raises at your tone, stance sturdy and arms crossed over his chest. You can feel the heat radiating off of him; briefly acknowledging the sentient shadows that nudge you in closer, partially hiding you behind his bulk. Protecting what they deemed as theirs. “—but all the Valkyrie’s call him tick.”

“Tick.”

“Yeah,” Your head nods along in confirmation, fingers hooking in the loops of your leathers to shimmy them up higher on your hips. “‘Cause he latches on like one—damn near impossible to shake.”

There’s a brief pause, a rumble of a noise vibrating through his chest like a lion in wait that rests on its haunches. Azriel’s prey drive is triggered, specially attuned to the way Tyson leans casually against a post, blue eyes trained on you while you warm up, taking time admiring the way your leathers fit like second skin. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

He’s skilled with a sword, Az notes, but that wandering eye is sure to get him killed. The shadowsinger can feel the way his fingers form into fists when Tyson’s gaze meanders down the slope of your back and settles around the generous curve of your ass. It wobbles temptingly as you practice, core tight and form stunning as all sorts of daggers are shot through the air at warp speed.

Every blade hits its respective bullseye.

You're one hell of a prize. One that Tyson so foolishly thinks he’s good enough to win.

Shoulders square, feet apart, knees ever so slightly bent. Even breaths as you line up the next blade, eying where you wish for it to land. "How does he look at me?"

"Like he wants to fuck you."

You pray he doesn't notice the way your body freezes in place, grip faltering on the hilt of your dagger. A thick swallow, throat clumsily clearing and lashes fluttering with nerves as you make a point to keep your face forward. "How would you know what that looks like?"

"Because, I want to fuck you." Thighs clench at the flippant way he says it—so casually. Like it's common knowledge. As if he hasn't just rendered you speechless and filled you full of want off one sentence alone. The smell of him engulfs you when he closes the distance, his chest to your back. Shadows teasing at the sides of your thighs like phantom palms that waste no time memorizing the new terrain. "You're holding that wrong."

"Am I?" More intelligent words are robbed right off of your tongue when he presses against you, the weight of his growing erection digging into your spine, teasing around the dimples that rest right above your ass. You can't help but lean into him, allowing him to adjust your fingers around the daggers hilt.

Never once had you thought such a simple touch could ignite this kind of spark within you. A fire that damn near burns you alive; it begins in the pit of your stomach, gnawing at organs and muscle, tearing through soft tendons and sinew in its desperation for release. "Like this, baby." His lips graze the curve of your ear, forcing goosebumps to assault your skin.

Azriel doesn't adjust a thing about your form. Instead, he openly gropes at the fat of your hips. Slides his palm possessively over the soft swell of your abdomen. Trails a hand up the crease of your breasts until a five finger grip is curling its way around your throat. "What are you doing?" You whisper, craning your neck to provide more access. Allowing the steady pressure squeezing at your jugular.

He's putting on one hell of a show.

Staring that blonde bastard right in the eye as he drags his nose along your temple, pressing his lips against your skin just because he can. "Pest control." A thick thigh nudges its way between your legs, the bulk of Azriel's body blocking you from all peering eyes but one.

Tyson vibrates with rage as Az guides your hips, dragging your clothed cunt along solid muscle until lids flutter and lips part. It's an agonizing kind of pleasure��one that's everything and nothing at the same time. Stimulating but not fully satisfying when you really crave the turgid length of his cock that strains against his leathers.

It takes a second too long to realize that he's not really doing this with your pleasure in mind.

He barely pays you any real attention as discreet shadows creep under your top to twist at taut nipples, squeezing and pulling until the heartbeat in your chest travels all the way down to your pussy.

No, he merely uses you as a pawn. Plucking and toying, licking and biting at the junction of your neck until all that can be scented on you is arousal and Illyrian. "Az, I'm gonna—"

"Not yet, sweet thing. Want him to look at you when you cum for me."

[danikamariewrites]

My Poor Shadowsinger

Azriel x reader

A/n: I saw this post on twitter of Rogue carrying Gambit and it said ‘can’t let the bros know I’m cool with this’ or something like that. Anyway it immediately made me think of the babying Az hc I wrote and I couldn’t focus on anything else until I wrote this.

Warnings: mentions of injuries

Now that Madja was gone and his brother’s fussing was over Azriel could finally relax. His latest mission was fairly easy, that was until the last day. It’s always the last day. Azriel had won the fight easily, the male who attacked him clearly didn’t know how to fight, just throwing his muscular body around, hoping to land a blow.

Not that Az would admit this but he got cocky, too cocky. The bastard got him with his long knife leaving a wide gash across his chest.

Azriel relaxed into his mountain of pillows, letting his eyes finally rest. Of course right at that moment the front door slammed opened, followed by your worried voice yelling at Rhys. Azriel sat up in anticipation of you entering his room. Bursting through the door with Cass and Rhys on your heels you stop on the threshold.

Dropping your bag you rest your hands above your heart, your face contorted in worry. Your eyes scanning the bandages wrapped around his strong chest. “Oh Azzy,” you say breathless. Rhys opens his mouth to tell you Azriel is fine but Cassian grasped his shoulder. The smirk on his face telling Rhys that he wanted to see how this went.

You rush over to his bed, sitting on your knees next to him, holding his head to your chest. Placing kisses all over his face and head you sway him gently. “Are you ok baby? I was so scared when Rhys told me you came home hurt.” leaning back you run your hands over his shoulders gently, making sure to not pull at the bandages.

To your surprise Az leaned into you, accepting your loving attention. Not caring that his brothers were watching on. Resting his head against your chest again and wrapping his arms around your middle. “I’m ok, it just stings a lot.” You let out a sympathetic sound, running your hands through his dark hair.

“You poor thing. Rhys,” you turn to the High Lord with a slight scowl on your face, “why didn’t you tell me he was in pain?” Cassian and Rhys couldn’t believe what they were hearing. Their jaws open wide in shock. “I-he, are you kidding? He said he was fine! Az even kicked us out because he said ‘stop babying me, I’m a full grown male!’” Rhys complained.

Cassian was speechless. He couldn’t believe his brother was acting this way.

You let out a sound of disgust, untangling yourself from Azriel’s vice like hold. “Lay back Az,” you say in a soft tone, adjusting his pillows so he can be comfortable. “Are you hungry? What can I get you baby?” You coo at him while brushing his hair back from his slightly warm forehead. You click your tongue at the warmth. “Ugh and you’re warm, did Madja give you something to fight off a potential fever?”

Az nods against his pillows, “It’s downstairs will you get it for me? And can I have that sandwich that you always make, and maybe some soup?” His voice small and a slight pout on his plump lips. “Of course baby. I’ll be right back.” You kiss the pout from his lips and make your way downstairs with a disapproving look at Rhys.

They all watch you leave. Once you’re down the stairs Rhys and Cass walk over to the end of Azriel’s bed. The High Lord places his hands on his hips giving Azriel an exasperated look. “You are unbelievable.” All Azriel does is smirk at his brother, bringing his arms to rest behind his head. “Don’t lie, you let Feyre and Nesta baby you two.” His brothers scoff at the accusation.

“Nesta would never.” Cassian says dramatically. Rhys purses his lips and shakes his head. “Run along now,” Az says teasingly. “Let me enjoy my pampering in peace brothers.” Rhys shakes his head again as the pair laugh while leaving.

[thewulf]

Soothing Shadows || Azriel

Summary: Request - Can I request some fluffy angst with Azriel? She’s usually soft, sweet and shy but she’s suddenly moody and snapping trying to seem tough from a REALLY bad period?

A/N: Well I got way too carried away on the intro but I love it. Love this one. ACOTAR is just so much fun to write. the characters are just... perfect. I hope you all enjoy :)

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Day Court Reader)

Word Count: 6.7k +

TW: Yelling, frustration, crying

The Meeting

In the golden light of the Day Court's grand hall the sunlight danced playfully across the marble floors. It was an atmosphere thick with the potential of new alliances that buzzed through the air. Azriel was enveloped in his characteristic shadows despite the overwhelming brightness. He entered the hall alongside Rhysand and Cassian looking rather unimpressed. Day Court was never his favorite. Their steps were confident yet cautious, reflective of the gravity of their mission.

The room was populated with dignitaries and advisors. It seemed to pause momentarily as their attention was drawn to the Night Court's formidable high fae. But for Azriel it wasn’t the opulent surroundings nor the stares of the courtiers that unsettled him—it was you.

Standing among the Day Court's delegation, you were pointing to a map seemingly unfazed by their arrival. Your aura shone more brilliantly than anything else he’d ever seen. You were a strategist he concluded as you kept pointing and offering up solutions. Your attire was remarkably vibrant and expressive even for a Day Court fae. It contrasted starkly with his dark, subdued tones. Yet the garments mirrored the radiant environment of your home or what he assumed was your home. It wasn’t until Rhysand cleared is through that your eyes, keen and perceptive, swept over the newcomers. They paused just a touch longer on him than on the others. And he’d be lying if he didn’t say that your piercing eyes didn’t unsettle him a touch further.

Azriel’s heart was usually so stead but that looked you gave him made it skip unevenly beneath his armor. He meant to greet you with his customary reserve, but his voice caught still in his throat. Instead, the words stumbled over themselves like his shadows at noon. Cassian’s barely concealed smirk did little to soothe his discomfort. Rhysand’s knowing glance only deepened the flush that dared to climb Azriel’s neck.

You cocked an eyebrow in surprise at the new comers. The High Lord of the Night Court and his Inner Circle. You were expecting Night Court emissaries not the High Lord himself. And certainly not flanked by the Shadowsinger and General you’d heard so much about. The war was brutal, but they seemingly made themselves known through their selfless actions. "Welcome to the Day Court High Lord," you said with a hit of a smile on your lips. Your voice was clear and melodious, and it sliced through his momentary lapse with ease. He noticed how you bowed reverently to Rhysand and nobody else. "We hope our discussions today will strengthen the ties between our courts during these challenging times. High Lord Helion will be joining us shortly. He ran into a minor hiccup with High Lord Kallias.” You smirked looking directly at Rhysand after your gaze had settled on Azriel for a beat too long. “You know how those seasonal courts are, fickle is as fickle does.”

Your smile was warm and inviting as it clashed with the cool, calculated persona he had anticipated. As you extended your hand in greeting to the three of them Azriel’s shadows flickered uncertainly around him. Taking a deep breath, he managed to gather his composure, his hand meeting yours first. The contact sent a jolt of unexpected warmth coursing up his arm and settling deep within his chest. Rhysand’s low chuckle was barely audible and hinted that he found the situation amusing. He was already piecing together the reason behind Azriel’s sudden awkwardness

The High Lord’s response was a measured one. His expression unfaltering as he took in your words and the underlying tone. The faintest smile touched his lips, a gleam of amusement—or perhaps appreciation—flickering in the depths of his blue violet eyes. He was no stranger to the complexities and occasional theatrics of court relations and your comment about the seasonal courts didn't go unnoticed. "Thank you for your kind welcome," Rhysand replied. His voice was smooth and commanding yet carrying an undercurrent of warmth that he reserved for those he deemed worth his genuine attention. "It is always enlightening to visit the Day Court. The light here is quite invigorating," he continued, his gaze briefly sweeping the sunlit hall before settling back on you and giving your own hand a shake after Azriel.

He stepped forward slightly, around you, closing some of the formal distance that the court protocol initially demanded. "Indeed though, the fickleness of the seasonal courts can often be... challenging. But it’s the steadfast nature of courts like yours and mine that often brings balance," he added. The slight emphasis on 'steadfast' subtly acknowledged both the compliment and the jest you had woven into your very own greeting.

Rhysand's demeanor remained composed but there was a keen sharpness to his observation. It was indicative of his role not just as a leader but as a tactician. He was always reading between the lines, always ready to engage on more than just the surface level. "We look forward to discussing ways our courts might work together more closely," he concluded. His tone implying that your directness and evident acumen had not only been noted but were also appreciated. His response set the stage for a dialogue that promised to be as engaging and sharp as the participants involved.

You smile brightly at his calculated response. You’d heard many stories of Rhysand and his cleverness. "Then by all means, please have a seat and we will get started once High Lord Helion arrives shortly." You motion to the golden table behind you.

Rhysand nodded at your invitation with the hint of a strategic mind playing behind his affable smile. He gestured gracefully to his companions indicating they should take their seats in preparation for the meeting. As Cassian moved to take a spot near the end of the table, Rhysand placed a hand on Azriel's shoulder, his voice just loud enough for those nearby to catch, "Azriel, why don’t you take the seat next to our esteemed strategist from the Day Court? It might be beneficial for our discussions."

Azriel cast a brief, slightly questioning glance at Rhysand but there was an unspoken understanding in the exchange. With a barely perceptible nod Azriel complied moving smoothly to the indicated chair beside you. His presence was quiet and unobtrusive, yet you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his gaze as he settled next to you. The Shadowsinger’s famed subtlety making him a curious, albeit intriguing, neighbor.

As he took his seat next to you his voice was a low murmur just for you, "I hope my presence here serves to facilitate a fruitful dialogue between our courts," Azriel said. His tone earnest yet carrying an edge of his characteristic reserve.

Rhysand watched this arrangement unfold, a barely there smile playing on his lips, clearly pleased with his own maneuvering. His eyes met yours for a moment and the look was both a challenge and a promise—the proceedings today would be anything but mundane.

With Azriel now seated beside you, his presence both imposing and intriguing, you turned to him with a playful glint in your eye. "I'm sure your presence will not only facilitate but enhance our discussions," you replied. Your voice tinged with a hint of flirtation. "After all, it's not every day we get graced by the infamous Shadowsinger." Your words hung lightly between you as an invitation to a more relaxed interaction despite the formal setting. Azriel's expression which was usually so guarded softened slightly at your approach. A faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he acknowledged the compliment mixed with your light jest.

"Infamous, is it?" Azriel responded. The undertone of his voice suggesting he was both amused and intrigued by your characterization. "I suppose there are worse reputations to have." The subtle exchange, though brief, set a tone of ease and mild flirtation, hinting at the potential for not only diplomatic success but personal connection as well.

Just as you were about to deliver a witty retort to Azriel's comment the grand doors to the meeting hall swung open. Your High Lord strode in with his characteristic regal poise but an apologetic smile. As Helion settled into his chair with his characteristic regal ease he apologized for his tardiness. His eyes twinkling slightly with humor. "My apologies for the delay," Helion announced. The resonant timbre of his voice filling the room. "It seems that even the best of us are not immune to the whims of weather and politics. Kallias can be rather persuasive in his timing."

Before you could respond though Rhysand chimed in. A slight smirk playing on his lips as he glanced at you. "No worries, Helion. Your strategist here has been more than welcoming," he said while nodding towards you with a hint of playfulness in his tone. "It seems the Day Court excels not only in strategy but also in hospitality."

You smiled, catching Rhysand's eye with a look that matched his own amusement. "We do our best to keep our guests comfortable, High Lord Rhysand. It helps to ensure a more productive discussion," you replied smoothly. Your words subtly acknowledging his compliment while keeping the tone light and engaging.

Helion chuckled at the exchange, clearly pleased with the rapport between his strategist and the Night Court's leader. The room relaxed into a more congenial atmosphere setting a positive tone for the serious diplomatic discussions that were about to unfold.

As the meeting unfolded Azriel found himself repeatedly glancing at you. You were unfailingly professional. Your insights sharp and your arguments compelling. Yet, there was an undercurrent of gentleness in your approach. A lightness that seemed to permeate the very air around you. It was in stark contrast to the shadows that clung to him. A poignant irony not lost on him. The shadowsinger drawn inexplicably towards a child of daylight. Despite the limited words exchanged between you two each interaction left Azriel more intrigued. He was increasingly ensnared by the bright strategist whose presence seemed to challenge the depths of his shadows.

The Panic

Back in the Night Court within the familiar shadows of their favored lounge, Azriel faced the relentless teasing of his closest friends. Cassian was lounging on an oversized chair with that irrepressible grin. He watched Azriel with an amused twinkle in his eye. "You know, I've seen you calm in the face of Hybern's armies yet a few sweet words from a lady of the Day Court and you're more tangled than your shadows in sunlight." He snickered knowing it was getting under his brothers skin.

Rhysand was always one for teasing and couldn't resist joining in. His voice laced with laughter. "Truly, it's a sight. Our master of stealth and subtlety was undone by a pretty smile and a strategic mind. Tell us, Az, what exactly did she say to fluster the great Shadowsinger?"

Azriel, whose usual composure was as solid as the mountains surrounding Velaris, felt an unusual heat creeping up his neck for the second time that day. Each jab from his friends pricked at him. It was stirring a whirlpool of thoughts and emotions he was usually so adept at managing. "It’s not just her words," he began. His voice defensive, but as their teasing continued his defenses began to thin.

"Come on, spill it then, Az. Did she outmaneuver you with her wit or was it the sunlight in her hair?" Cassian quipped not missing the slight shift in Azriel’s stance.

The shadows around Azriel deepened, reacting to his rising frustration and embarrassment. Unable to hold back the truth from his brothers relentless teasing he blurted out, "She's my mate, alright? The shadows... they whispered it to me as soon as I saw her standing there." Cassian’s laughter halted abruptly. His expression shifting to shock while Rhysand paused. His own smirk fading into a more thoughtful gaze.

Azriel's admission hung heavily in the air. His heart pounding as he faced the reality he had only dared to acknowledge in the darkest corners of his mind. She’s my mate. How? Why her? Why now? His thoughts raced, chaotic and overwhelming. The concept of having a mate had always been distant, abstract. It was something meant for others. Not for him, cloaked as he was in secrecy and shadows. He didn’t even think Shadowsinger’s could have mates until his shadows confirmed it.

As the initial shock of his declaration settled Rhysand’s features softened. "Az, this... this is significant. But think about it. The Cauldron knows what it’s doing. She brings light where you bring shadow. Balance, in its purest form."

As the shadows around Azriel grew more restless so did his thoughts. His words spilled out in an uncharacteristic torrent. "It doesn't make sense," he started. His words rushing out as if he was trying to keep pace with the whirlwind inside him. "Why her? Why now? She's light and life, and I'm... I'm the opposite. I live in the shadows, in the secrets and silence. How can I bring someone like her into that world? It's not just about balance or opposites attracting. It's about her world and mine, and they just don't... they don't align."

He paused only to draw a shallow breath, hardly noticing Cassian and Rhysand exchanging worried glances. "And what about what she needs? She thrives in the sun, in the warmth. I can offer her none of that. My world is night and cold and hidden things. What if I'm not what she needs? What if I'm just... just another shadow in her bright world?"

Rhysand tried to interject, "Az..."

But Azriel pressed on, relentless. "And the Cauldron, why would it choose this? Why would it choose now to tell me she's my mate? I’ve managed this long on my own, kept to myself. Why throw this... this chaos into my life? It’s like it’s testing me, pushing me to my limits. She deserves someone who can walk in the light with her. Someone who doesn't hide from the world."

His voice was a mix of disbelief and desperation. His words tumbling faster as his anxiety peaked. "And what am I supposed to do? Just walk up to her and say, 'Here I am, your mate, doomed to live in the dark'? How is that fair to her? She has her life, her court. I can’t ask her to leave that behind. I can’t ask her to adjust to the night. It’s not fair. It’s just not fair to her."

Cassian finally stood, grasping Azriel's shoulders to stop his pacing, forcing him to meet his gaze. "Azriel, breathe, brother. You’re spiraling. You’re thinking about all the ways it can go wrong instead of how it could go right. You’re not considering that maybe she’s been waiting for someone who can appreciate her brightness because he understands the dark."

Rhysand nodded, his voice calm and steady. "Cassian’s right. And remember, the Cauldron doesn’t make these decisions lightly. There’s a reason you’re drawn to each other, a reason beyond what we can see. Maybe it’s not about what you think you can or can’t give her. Maybe it’s about what you can create together." The room fell silent as Azriel's breaths slowly evened out. The words of his brothers began to sink in as he processed what they said. The shadows around him calmed, settling as he considered their words. The frenzy of his thoughts gradually giving way to a cautious hope.

Azriel stood there with the weight of his friends’ hands on his shoulders grounding him. Slowly, their words began to penetrate the chaos in his mind, like light piercing through the shadows. Rhysand’s calm assurance and Cassian’s steadfast support made him realize something important: he wasn’t alone in this. He had his brothers. And maybe, just maybe, he could have you too.

He took a deep breath after finally stilling his frantic thoughts. "Maybe you’re right," he said quietly. The tension in his voice easing. "Maybe... maybe there’s a reason for this. I just have to find it."

With his brothers’ encouragement and their unwavering belief in the bond the Cauldron had forged, Azriel decided to give it a chance. He started visiting the Day Court more frequently. He found reasons to see you and to learn more about you. Each visit was a step closer. Each conversation a bridge over the chasm of his doubts.

At first the visits were all business—discussing strategies, alliances, the future of their courts. But quickly thereafter the conversations turned more personal. You talked about your dreams, your fears, and the way the sun felt on your skin. He shared pieces of himself he had kept hidden for so long. He talked of the shadows that lingered in his past, the secrets he carried. He was encouraged when you didn’t recoil away from the conversation but asked more. Wanted to see more.

You began to spend time in Velaris as well. You were invited by Azriel to see the beauty of his world. You wandered the streets together. Explored the hidden corners of the city and discovered the charm of the Night Court. The contrast between the bright, open spaces of the Day Court and the intimate, star-lit beauty of Velaris fascinated you. You found yourself growing to love Velaris as much as he did.

Months passed and the bond between you deepened. Azriel’s initial fears slowly melted away as he realized that the light and shadow within your relationship didn’t clash. Instead, they complemented each other just as Rhysand suggested. You brought warmth to his life, and he brought a depth of understanding to yours. It wasn’t about changing each other but about creating something new together.

Finally, after months of Azriel seeming to court you he told you of what he’d known for a long while now. It was a sunny afternoon in the Day Court as you both stood in the garden where you had first met. He wasn’t planning on telling you that day but the way the sun cast delicate shadows over your frame he knew it was time. The flowers bloomed brightly around you making you as ethereal as ever. He took your hands in his, the shadows curling gently around your fingers.

His heart was steady as he looked into your eyes, filled with the certainty that had eluded him for so long. He told you everything—the whispers of his shadows, the bond he had felt from the start, and the journey he had taken to accept it. And when he finally said it out loud, that you were his mate, the joy that spread across your face was more beautiful than any sunlight or shadow he had known.

You had suspected, had even felt the bond too, but had waited for him to come to you in his own time. And now that he had the happiness between you was undeniable. Together you would embrace the future. You knew you would find the perfect balance of light and shadow. You were more than ready to face whatever came next.

The Decision

A few more days had passed and the question of where the two of you would live rang heavily in his head. He didn’t want to bombard you, but he couldn’t let his mind rest until he knew what was going to happen. You’d told him you would move to Velaris to be with him, but the conversation seemed so long ago now. Like maybe he was dreaming it himself.

In a quiet corner of the Day Court gardens you and Azriel sat on a bench beneath a canopy of blooming flowers. The gentle hum of life around you contrasted with the serious conversation at hand. Azriel’s eyes that were normally so composed were filled with a mix of concern and determination.

"I need to ask you something," he began. His voice steady but his hands fidgeting slightly. "Are you truly ready to leave the Day Court and move to Velaris? To take on a new role and a new life there? I don’t want you to feel like you have to sacrifice everything for me." He admitted in earnest.

You reached out taking his hands in yours, feeling the comforting weight of his touch. "Yes. Azriel, this feels right. I’ve come to love Velaris, its people, and its beauty. Being with you has shown me a world I never knew I could belong to. It’s not a sacrifice. It’s a new beginning." Your smile was genuine, but he felt uneasy. He didn’t want you to resent him for your leaving of your home court. The only court you’d ever known.

Azriel’s brow furrowed slightly, the shadows around him flickering with his unease. "But what about your responsibilities here? Your role in the Day Court? Your family? I don’t want you to feel like you’re abandoning your life for me."

You smiled with your heart swelling with affection for this man who cared so deeply for your well-being. "I’m not abandoning anything. We can find a way to maintain my connection to the Day Court. Rhysand and Helion can work out an arrangement where I can serve both courts, acting as a bridge between them. It’s a role I believe I’m meant to play. My family will understand. They just want me to be happy. And you make me happy. Velaris will make me happy." You gave his hands a squeeze in yours

He sighed. His shoulders relaxing slightly as he absorbed your words. "And you’re sure? You’re truly sure this is what you want?"

You leaned in closer. Your voice filled with conviction. "I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. Being with you, in Velaris, feels like coming home. It’s where I want to be, with you. We can make this work together."

Azriel nodded. A smile slowly spreading across his face. "Then let’s do it. We’ll talk to Rhysand and Helion and make this official. We’ll find a way for you to fulfill your duties to both courts while being together."

The conversation with Rhysand and Helion was productive and filled with mutual respect. Rhysand’s approval and Helion’s support solidified the plan for you to become an ambassador between the Day and Night Courts. This arrangement ensured that you could maintain your influence in the Day Court while building a new life in Velaris with your mate. For even High Lord’s would never come between a fae and their mate.

The Cycle

The streets of Velaris hummed with the gentle bustle of evening activity as the city welcomed Azriel back into its embrace. His shadowed silhouette moved effortlessly through the crowd, a figure of quiet strength returning from a covert mission. By his side, you walked with a smile, your presence a bright counter to his darker aura. The bond between you, still fresh and filled with the thrill of discovery, seemed to deepen with every step you took together.

Despite the jovial atmosphere of the city, a ripple of discomfort threaded through you. The onset of your cycle beginning just as Azriel returned. The timing was far from ideal, and you decided to keep the discomfort to yourself. You did not want to cloud his homecoming with the burden of your pain.

"Azriel, it seems Velaris hasn’t slept a wink since you left," you remarked lightly trying to steer clear of your discomfort by engaging him with the vibrancy of the city.

He chuckled a soft, melodious sound that easily blended with the evening air. "Or perhaps it’s just waking up now that I’m back." His eyes that were especially dark and perceptive tonight, flicked to yours with a smile tugging at his lips. Despite the playfulness of his words, his gaze was probing, always searching beneath the surface even if he didn't yet know what he was looking for.

As you approached the quieter lamp-lit streets near your home the pain discreetly intensified. Each step became a little more measured though you masked it well with practiced ease. Azriel was caught up in recounting the details of his mission. He didn’t immediately notice the subtle shifts in your demeanor. The slightly too-long pauses, the faint grimaces quickly smoothed into neutral expressions.

Once home you busied yourself with preparing a late dinner by moving around the kitchen with a grace that belied the growing ache. Azriel was unpacking and settling back into the space. He watched you from the corner of his eye. Something in your movement, perhaps a stiffness you hadn’t possessed before, hinted at an unspoken truth.

Dinner passed with light conversation and shared laughter. You asked about his travels, the people he met, the sights he saw, all while carefully balancing your own discomfort on a tightrope of normalcy. Azriel responded with stories and light-hearted comments, but his observant eyes missed little. He noted each careful movement and each strained smile.

Later though, as you both settled into the quiet comfort of the living room with the flickering candles casting soft shadows across the walls, Azriel’s concern finally found its voice. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything,” he said softly, his voice a gentle nudge in the quiet room. It wasn’t an accusation, nor a confrontation. It was just an offer hanging softly between you.

You met his gaze with a soft smile. His warmth and worry there evident. You hesitated. A part of you, the part woven tightly to him through the bond, yearned to share the burden, to lean on him as you had promised each other. But another part, the part steeled by independence and not wanting to cast a shadow over his return, held back.

“I know,” you replied. Your voice softer than intended, a smile attempting to mask your discomfort. “I’m just glad you’re home, Azriel. Really, I’m fine.”

Azriel nodded, accepting your words for now but not deceived by them. His offer stood. A silent vow reflected in the steadiness of his gaze ready for when you chose to accept it. And as the evening wore on the unspoken understanding deepened. The assurance that when you were ready, he would be there, just as the city’s lights would always return with the stars.

The next morning in Velaris began with the soft glow of the rising sun streaming through the windows, bathing the kitchen in warm light. It was usually a welcome sight, but today, as the rays hit your eyes it sparked an unexpected irritation. You squinted sharply, shielding your face with your hand. "Why is the sun so bright this morning?" you grumbled more to yourself than to Azriel.

Azriel, standing nearby and preparing breakfast, glanced over with a mixture of concern and a slight smile noting the irony of a Day Court Fae being annoyed by the sun. "Would you like me to close the curtains?" he offered, his voice gentle, recognizing your discomfort as more than just a complaint about the light.

"Yes, please," you sighed before rubbing your temples as he moved to adjust the drapes, softening the room's brightness. Your mood felt as fragile as glass, each sensory input amplified.

Throughout the morning these small irritations bubbled up unexpectedly. When the kettle whistled loudly as it reached a boil, you winced. The sound slicing through the quiet like a siren. "Does it always need to be that loud?" you muttered. The frustration edging your words.

Azriel turned off the stove. His movements calm and deliberate, designed not to provoke your sensitivities further. "It's done now," he said soothingly, pouring the hot water into a teapot with practiced care.

As you both sat to eat, the scraping of your chair against the floor made you cringe. You held your head in your hands for a moment, feeling overwhelmed. "Sorry, everything just feels a bit much this morning," you apologized. Your voice muffled by your hands.

Azriel’s response was filled with an empathetic patience. "It’s okay. We all have those days. Is there anything else I can do to make the morning easier for you my love?"

You shook your head instead managing a small smile as you looked up at him. "Just having you here helps."

He returned your smile with a nod. His presence a quiet reassurance. Azriel continued to navigate the morning with a considerate grace by turning down the volume on the music player that usually filled your mornings with lively tunes. He replaced it instead with the soft, soothing sounds of a gentle instrumental.

Later, as you prepared to leave the kitchen, a sharp pain from your cycle struck drawing a hiss of pain from your lips. Azriel was at your side in an instant, his concern deepening. "Is everything alright?" he asked. His voice laced with worry.

You nodded your head not wanting to worry him with the details just yet. "Just a bit of a headache," you lied, not ready to divulge the true cause of your discomfort.

Azriel didn't press further, respecting your space, but his offer was clear. "If you need anything—anything at all, just let me know." His assurance was comforting. He was a steady anchor in the choppy waters of your morning. As you leaned into his support, appreciating the depth of his patience, you realized how much it meant to have someone who could weather your storm without taking it personally. Azriel's understanding allowed you to face the more challenging days with a sense of security knowing that even when you couldn't control the storm within you weren't alone in navigating it.

Later that evening, as the city of Velaris began to quiet down under the night sky, the calm in your shared home was punctuated by the subtle but persistent struggles of your condition. After a day fraught with sensitivity and muted pain you had finally found a moment of respite by drifting into a light sleep.

Azriel, ever so cautious, tried to maintain the tranquility of your environment. However, as he moved around the bedroom preparing for his own rest a book slipped from his grasp. The soft thud it made as it hit the floor seemed deafening in the quiet room. Startled from your shallow slumber you snapped awake with irritation flaring immediately. "Can you just be quiet for once?" you lashed out. Your voice sharp and louder than intended. The darkness of the room seemed to swell with the tension of your words.

Azriel froze, the book forgotten at his feet. He turned towards you. His face a mask of surprise and hurt. The room was thick with your frustration and his growing concern. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, his voice steady despite the emotion you could hear just under the surface. "I didn’t mean to wake you."

You sighed, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes, frustration at yourself now mingling with the physical pain. "No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I... I just fell asleep, and I’m so tired, Az. I didn’t mean to snap."

There was a moment of silence as Azriel digested your words. The gentle shifting of his stance indicating his internal debate on how to proceed. Finally, he spoke, his words careful but filled with the need to understand. "This isn’t like you love. You’re not just tired. Please, talk to me. What’s really going on?"

The concern in his voice, the genuine worry for your well-being, broke through the last of your defenses. The dam built around your emotions and the pain you had been trying to hide all day finally burst. Tears started to gather in your eyes, blurring your vision as you faced not just the physical pain but also the emotional strain of keeping it hidden. "It’s my cycle, Az. It’s really painful this time and I didn’t want to make a fuss about it, especially today. But I’ve gone and made a fuss about it by being mean to you."

Azriel's reaction was immediate and intense. His eyes widened in alarm. "Your cycle? Is it supposed to hurt this much? Should I call a healer? Maybe there’s something wrong. We should do something. What can I do? Tell me how to help you." His questions tumbled out in a hurried stream; his usual calm demeanor replaced by a flustered, almost panicked response.

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle despite your discomfort. You were struck by how uncharacteristically panicked he was. The sight of Azriel, always so in control, now scrambling to figure out how to deal with a normal albeit painful part of your life, was oddly endearing. "Really, Az, I don’t need a healer," you reassured him by still chuckling a little. "It’s not unusual, just uncomfortable. Maybe just some warmth and quiet would help."

Seeing you laugh, Azriel took a deep breath, attempting to calm his racing thoughts. "Okay, warmth, I can manage that," he muttered to himself almost as if making a mental checklist. "And quiet. Right. I’ll get you a heating pad and some tea. Does chamomile sound good? I read somewhere once that it’s supposed to be soothing." Watching him take determined strides toward the kitchen you felt a mix of gratitude and amusement. His earnestness and sudden eagerness to do anything to make you feel better warmed your heart and eased some of your discomfort.

Azriel carefully placed the heating pad and tea on the bedside table then hesitantly perched on the very edge of the bed. He maintained a noticeable distance between you. His eyes flickered with concern and an unusual hint of hesitance as he watched you curl up under the blankets, seeking comfort and warmth. Noticing the space he'd kept away from you, you pouted slightly, feeling the chill of his absence more acutely than the air around you. "Why are you all the way over there?" you asked him. Your voice carrying a soft note of longing and a touch of playful reproach.

He looked at you, a wry smile touching his lips. He held up his hands "I’m cold, always cold. My hands are freezing. ," he replied. His voice tinged with a half-hearted jest. "And you need warmth."

You rolled your eyes affectionately before extending your hand towards him. "I don’t care. Come here," you insisted. Your tone gentle yet firm.

Without missing a beat, Azriel moved closer to you. His earlier hesitation vanishing as he lay down next to you. However, ever considerate, he strategically placed a soft blanket between you and him just in case his cooler, shadow-clad nature made you uncomfortable. Then with a tender smile he pulled you into his embrace ensuring that the blanket acted as a warm buffer. Making sure to keep any chill his presence might hold at bay.

Azriel's embrace enveloped you, the blanket between you two a considerate barrier to his naturally cool presence. He held you close, his voice a soft murmur near your ear, "I’m here, no matter what. Always.”

As you nestled against him feeling the warmth of his care seep through the fabric, he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "You know," he started, a playful twinkle lighting up his eyes, "I’ve heard that certain... activities can be quite beneficial for soothing cycles. Something about natural pain relief?" His tone was teasing, deliberately light to coax a smile from you.

Azriel's playful suggestion hung in the air, wrapped in the warmth and the soft chuckle that followed. You raised an eyebrow. Your laughter still echoing softly in the room. Leaning in a little closer you matched his mischievous gaze with one of your own. "What certain activities are you alluding to, Azriel?" you teased. Your voice dripping with feigned innocence. "You'll have to be more specific. I'm not sure I follow."

The twinkle in Azriel’s eyes brightened, amused, and slightly challenged by your seemingly innocent response. "Oh, you know," he replied, his voice lowering into a suggestive murmur, "activities that involve being very... close and unclothed. I've heard they can be quite therapeutic."

Your laughter filled the room again, lighter, and more carefree than it had been all day. "Therapeutic, huh? That sounds like a very scientific approach," you quipped back. The banter easing the remnants of your earlier discomfort.

Azriel nodded solemnly but his eyes betrayed his mirth. "Absolutely. It’s all in the name of health," he assured you, drawing you even closer within the safe harbor of his arms. The proximity was charged with your shared jest. It softened the edges of the day’s pain and discomfort, replacing it with a comforting intimacy.

Wrapped in the warmth of Azriel's embrace you couldn't help but play along with his cheeky suggestion. Your tone light but laced with mock consideration. "Well, if it’s for health reasons," you mused before giving him a playful look, "then I suppose we should probably follow doctor’s orders, shouldn’t we?"

Azriel's smile widened. His eyes alight with amusement and a hint of mischief. "Correct," he replied, his voice low and teasing. "It’s important to take health matters very seriously."

The playful banter and light-hearted mood set a comforting ease between you two and as you both settled in closer the earlier discomforts seemed to melt away. Instead replaced by a shared anticipation and warmth. Your laughter and his soft chuckles filled the room, creating a bubble of joy and closeness that made the rest of the world fade away. You leaned closer to him whispering conspiratorially, "Then let’s not waste any more time on formalities." Azriel's response was a gentle squeeze at your hip before pulling you even closer. As you both prepared to follow through on the playful prescription, keeping the mood light and deeply connected. This tender moment was filled with laughter and soft promises. It was a perfect, shared escape from the day's earlier challenges.

The next morning sunlight streamed softly through the curtains casting a gentle glow across the room where you and Azriel lay tangled in the sheets. The peaceful air was filled with the quiet sounds of Velaris awakening outside. Azriel was already awake and watching the light play across your face. He brushed a loose strand of hair from your eyes.

"Good morning," he murmured, his voice soft with affection. The events of the previous night had not only brought relief but had also woven a deeper layer of intimacy and trust between you.

"How are you feeling today?" he asked with a hint of a cheeky smile playing at the corners of his lips. The playful twinkle in his eyes was unmistakable clearly alluding to the 'therapeutic activities' from the night before. "Did the... treatment help?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics. The sound of your laughter was light and clear, a stark contrast to the discomfort of the previous day. "Yes, I believe it did," you replied as you matched his playful tone. "Doctor’s orders might just be the best medicine."

Azriel's laugh joined yours, the sound warm and comforting. As the laughter faded he shifted to a more serious tone, though his eyes still held a gentle warmth. "I mean it, though," he said earnestly. "I’m here for you, whatever you need. If there’s anything else that can help or something different you want to try next time, just tell me."

You reached out, tracing a line along his jaw with your fingers, moved by his sincerity and openness. "Thank you, Az. It means everything to me that you’re here and so willing to help. We'll just keep adjusting and figuring it out. And I promise I won’t be so… bitchy next time."

Azriel nodded with a smirk forming across his face at your words. His hand covering yours. "Absolutely," he agreed. There was a gentle determination in his tone. "Whatever comes, we face it."

The moment was simple yet profound, affirming the depth of your connection. It was these instances—of laughter, shared vulnerability, and light planning for the future—that deepened your bond, making it stronger with each challenge faced and each joy shared. As you both lay there, the morning light seemed to promise new beginnings and the assurance that no matter what challenges awaited you would meet them with love and a bit of humor always at hand.

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[redbleedingrose]

Hello I looooooove your writing and I was wondering (If it's okay) if you can write a drabble/headcanons about our boy azzie

Like how would he act if he had a sweet and extremelyyyyy affectionate mate and someone who's shy but would call out som1's bs

I hope you have an AMAZING day 💗 u

Hiiii!!! I hope you are doing well! Thank you sm for the ask! Looks like this option on the poll won so I spent some time thinking about some headcanons for:

Azriel x Shy!Reader Headcanons

Azriel loves his shy little mate. It always bring a spark lighting up his darkness thinking about how he first met you. How you couldn't even make eye contact with him without nervously giggling. Az at his baseline is quiet, but he is confident. He knows that he is attractive, knows that he can take any male or lady to his bed. But from the moment he met you, its like his entire universe shifted to revolving around you. He spent the entire night trying to quietly converse with you and focus your attention on him. Any time you would shy away, avoiding his gaze, he would lean down to force eye contact, scarred hand tilting your chin up at him so his pretty hazel eyes could peer into yours. He was literally hooked, trying to pull your soft smiles. It took one night with you for him to want to bring you all the stars in the sky to your palm.

The male is constantly trying to woo you. Even after decades of being mated, Azriel continues to make an effort into your relationship, learning new things about you, picking up on your habits, and honestly... he just loves dating you. He loves taking you out on dates, sometimes out to Rita's for dancing, and sometimes on midnight flights to the valleys just outside of Velaris for a late picnic and stargazing. He would do literally anything just to see your eyes light up in joy from his effort and love.

He adores watching you get dressed up for him, smirking at your sharp stare at him to get out of the room so you can change, his eyes twinkling with mirth because you're still so modest after he has seen you countless times in your bare form.

In the mornings, he likes to silently sneak up to your shared bathroom door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed against his chest, quietly observing you do your morning skincare and makeup. "Can I get some of that too doll?" He mumurs, wrapping a thick arm around your waist, turning you towards his gently. You stare up at him confused, rubbing your lips together, pressing in the cooling balm, "the lip balm?" you ask, head tilted to the side while you hold up the container at him. He silently nods, mischief flickering when you hum okay. Then he pulls your chin up before kissing you deeply, pulling away all too soon, "thanks dovey," while swaggering away smacking his lips, all confident and proud of himself.

Az brings you a fresh bouquet flowers all the time. He is the kind of male to keep on the flowers so that he can ensure he gets you another bouquet as soon as the old one starts to droop. Male has gone as far as taking your old bouquets and getting them pressed into frames so that you can hang them in your shared home. The walls of your mini library that he had specifically built for the both of you is filled with frames of all of the bouquets he has bought for you. Eventually, when you have your baby girl, her nursery is decorated with all those framed bouquets. It works out perfectly as your library walls were running out of room. And omg he is the kind of male to pick your favorite out of the bouquet and tuck it behind your ear while caressing ur cheek, looking at you like you have hung the moon and all the stars in the sky.

Speaking of your hair, Az brushes your hair ALL THE TIME. He is an act of services male at his core, and he wants to pamper you. The first time he saw you brushing your hair, his eyes nearly popped out from how rough you were being. Male now refuses to let you brush your own hair. He will settle you into his lap, his shadows swirling around the both of you, tickling your ankles while he combs your hair ever so gently, removing the knots with the utmost care, peppering kisses along your neck, cheeks and shoulders, and right at that tender spot behind your ear. Basically any skin that he can expose, he will and will lay the softest kiss to your perfect skin.

Azriel being spymaster gives him many skills. Skills like patience, creativity, and precision. And he uses those skills on you all the time. Especially when it comes to painting your nails for you. As mentioned previously, the male is an acts of service KING. He takes extra care to make sure the edges of your nails are smooth and clean, the designs he creates for you are different in style and technique. He obviously lets his shadows pick a different color every week for you, and that will be the theme for the rest of the week, when it comes to the colors of the flowers he gets you, to the pretty dress he saw in the market that he bought for your date night, to the dinner he makes for you both that week. Ugh love this male so much.

OMG and he is going to get on his knees for you. Anytime, anwhere, he will drop to his knees to tie your untied shoelaces. He is concerned his precious girl will fall over and bruise your skin. Oh, and he loves to help you put your heels on, kissing your ankles before getting up. Male worships the ground you walk on, I cannot BREATHE.

Azzie also has your coffee and drink order memorized. And he will absolutely go up to the front and get it changed for you if you don't like it or if they made it wrong, hushing your quiet pleas for him to sit back down with a soft kiss to your nose. He is very kind about it, will wait until the rush calms down to take drink back up and will tip extra to make sure he isn’t stepping on any toes, but is firm that they messed up his girls drink, and that needs to be fixed. We love a strong confident dominant male.

Unfortunately, being spymaster, Azriel is a very busy male. All his free time is spent with you, or on you, but he does have to work from time to time. Not to worry though, his shadows like to keep you company, especially when their master is not too far; being in his office working on paper work or out with Cassian training. They all crave your attention, fighting over which one can bring you your drink and which ones can play with your hair. Every 15 minutes, they are rushing back to their master to report back on you and whine about how one shadow is stealing all your attention.

Children, those little shadows.

Speaking of Azriel's free time, watching you do your hobbies is HIS favorite hobby. Weather you are basking in the sun while reading, to watching the crinkle in your eyebrows furrow further while you write, to watching you purse your lips while you taste the tart in the lemon curd you are making for dessert. He could sit back and watch you for hours and feel completely at rest and at peace, shadows singing in the background and soul buzzing along to their song.

He will climb into your shared bed to do his paperwork next to you while you sleep, especially if it has been a while of him sitting in the office and he feels like he has hit a wall. He will often working single handedly because he wants to hold your hand all night long, feeling much more motivated to protect Velaris with you at his side. He has something worth working for, worth protecting.

Neither of you are big fans of PDA, but that does not mean Azriel will go without touching you. He wants to make sure everyone knows who yo belong to… and moreso, who he belongs to. Male loves for people to know he is TAKEN.

Cannot get enough of when you get a little protective over him, seeing as that male across Rita’s has been eyeing him throughout the entire night. So while you and him go up to the bar for more drinks, you squeeze his tight ass in view of that male, and everyone else, to see. Azriel is thoroughly amused, a thrill shivering through his wings as he smirks down at you while you avoid his gaze, chin up in defiance as a hot flash runs through you.

Don’t worry though, he is not afraid to wrap his thick arm around your neck and pull you into his side with a soft kiss to your temple, hazel eyes adoringly tracing your soft features. He also guides you with his hand resting at the small of your back through the crowd, and ugh does it get you heated.

Anyway... I am tired of writing but I probs have more to add to this headcanon later so part 2 maybe??

Check out more of my writing!

[ervotica]

pretty little bird

vampire!azriel x fem!reader – blood, feeding, rhys watches (more on him soon!). approx. 600 words.

Azriel's ears perk at the shuffling of bare feet in the next room, both his and Rhysand's heads turning curiously as you stumble into view, eyes teary.

You're rather akin to a newborn deer, unsteady as you creep on the balls of your feet, shivering and cradling yourself for comfort.

Rhys doesn't think he's ever seen Az soften with such urgency, his steely countenance turning on its head as that first fat tear rolls over the swell of your cheek.

"My angel," he coos. "Come to me, baby."

You seem to hesitate, but you're quickly enticed closer by the roaring fire at the edge of the room, lulled into his arms without much protest at the crackling promise of warmth. Hues of gold and orange split into dappled rays that climb the expanse of Azriel's bare chest, the milky skin stark against the dark of the sitting room. It's an incentive for you to venture closer, a reward for spending your days shrouded in cold and darkness with this creature that calls you mate.

Rhys quirks a brow. "Who's this?"

It's as though those two words have set every fight response Azriel's body possesses alight, his temper flaring; a growl rumbles through him, his grip tightening as he snatches you up to his chest as though somebody will attempt to steal you away. Rhys lifts his hands in surrender.

"She's mine," Azriel snarls, baring honed canines. "Mine."

You go soft, submitting in an attempt to placate the vexation that crawls through his every vein like molten lava. Your head spins, fatigue weighing down your every limb as though they're filled with molasses. He grazes the edge of a fang along your pulse point. Just enough to break the first layer of skin.

He watches the drop of blood well, ooze and drip, settling in the hollow of your throat.

You sniffle, stomach flipping. He knows what you want; he just enjoys the desperation lacing your tone. You need the release of the feed as much as him. "Please."

Onyx strands of hair sweep over his eyes as he dips his head low to flatten his tongue across your throat, humming lowly at the tang of copper that bleeds over his tastebuds. He nudges your jaw with the tip of his nose.

"So polite, little bird," he hums. "Lean on me, baby. Az has you."

You hiccup, pushing closer into his space. A scarred hand brushes the hair from your throat, fangs entirely unsheathing as the tips of his teeth pierce your tender flesh.

You whine and thrash like a wounded prey animal, but you're quickly subdued as his venom seeps into your bloodstream. Euphoria bursts behind your eyelids, skin buzzing with the high that a feeding always brings you.

The other male's voice is muffled as though your ears are wadded with thick cotton. You sigh when Azriel slips his arms beneath your shoulders and hikes you upward with frantic urgency as he takes longer, dragging mouthfuls, squeezing as though the blood will pour from your wounds more rapidly.

"Az, you should stop. You'll kill her if you feed for much longer."

Azriel pulls away just enough to pant and growl, "She's fine."

The twin puncture wounds pulse and gush when Azriel tilts his head to watch his brother, irises entirely engulfed by inky darkness.

Your head drops, limp against his shoulder. Your limbs are flooded with warmth, body heavy like treacle and sated with the venom that twines around your veins like ivy, burrowing beneath your skin. Azriel's tongue flattens against your throat to clot the blood, sealing your seeping punctures.

"Shall we get you to bed, pretty bird?" he coos, mouth tilting upward blissfully. Your nose scrunches and you mouth at the bare skin as his silk shirt falls away from his form.

You're simply too tired to open your eyes, or protest, or even respond.

[chairofchaos]

Betrayal

@lady-of-tearshed poked the bear. So… have fun everybody!

This is dark! Violent. Graphic. Heavy on the ANGST!!! Wrote this on mobile in about ten minutes because I’m not back at my laptop yet, so forgive me the formatting. It just couldn’t wait 😇

@erisweekofficial for Day 3: BETRAYAL.

Eris and Azriel begin a courtship during the war against Hybern

Azriel recognizes the mating bond but says nothing

Eris doesn’t realize Azriel is his mate, and considers the attachment casual at best. Can’t get too attached when you’re constantly days from being killed by your own father, you know?

They frequently meet— but, out of sight, out of everyone else’s mind

Always a different court. With all the troops passing through and refugees from Spring, it is easier than ever to go unnoticed

Beron becomes suspicious at his son’s frequent movements when his guard repeatedly reports not being able to locate him

Beron gives him a chance to explain to save his own skin rather than disgracing the court

Eris turns in Azriel, claiming he has been spying on the spymaster and Azriel is a traitor working with Hybern, using his shadows to keep the King of Hybern up to speed on troops and their movements

No one trusts Rhysand to be objective in his daemati assessment, and no one else is willing to expose themselves as a daemati to intervene

Because no one can corroborate, Azriel is issued a death penalty, to be carried out in his camp of origin two weeks later

Eris is devastated, but the damage is done. There is nothing he can do, though he tries

Sends his trusted soldiers to try to retrieve him and get him out; even attempts to sneak into Night and find him, but no one knows where he is

Eris feels horrible, but he still doesn’t realize that Azriel is his mate

He is on the battlefield when Azriel is killed and is so distracted by the fracturing of his heart and soul that he doesn’t see his brother raising his sword to attack him in a desperate attempt to gain power

Eris dies on the battlefield, Azriel’s name on his tongue and tears streaming down his face. Those who saw it said his tears boiled as they fell, the last whispers of his power burning his anguish into his face

And nobody lived happily ever after.

The. End.

Tag list: @ninthcircleofprythian @c-starstuff-man0 @unanswered-stars @lilah-asteria @dusk-muse

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I couldn’t get enough of Drunk Az being all baby and clingy with his mate … plzz write something about this 😭❤️

This is slightly suggestive but there's no full smut here. Also, I am in desperate need for Azriel after this.

One horny mate

Oh, he so rarely lets go fully. Azriel loves being in control too much to let a silly thing like alcohol take over his senses. Make him clumsy, awfully unaware of his surroundings. Not to mention that he keeps his feelings close to his chest and alcohol, as tested on Cassian multiple times, made one say things that absolutely shouldn't see the daylight.

So when he's ordered his fifth drink of the night, you can't help but raise an eyebrow. The past couple of weeks have been hectic. Azriel barely functioned. All he did was work and sleep. Sleep if work wasn't keeping him up and that was rare. And now that everything was sorted. Taken care of. You couldn't blame him for wanting to take the edge off.

Azriel's arm was loosely draped over your shoulders for the majority of the night. But now you gazed at him from the bar and oh the thought were far from pure. His black button-up was rather open against his chest. The sleeves were messily rolled to his elbows. Legs slightly parted as he nursed a glass of whiskey in one of his of his hands. Mother, was he a sight for sore eyes when he was like this. If not for the slight ache between your legs - a little gift from Azriel before you had entered Rita's. You would probably be dragging him to the closest pleasure room so you could sink to your knees in front of him.

"You're brooding, my love", you purr through the loud music as you make your way back to your mate. His hand instantly moves to rest on your lower back more like your bum but you don't say anything about that. "Yet, you love it. Gets you going doesn't it?", he says, so casually that you can't help but gasp. "Rude of you to go through my head",' you gasp, moving to sit down on Azriel's lap. "You weren't complaining about that when I...", he starts but you quickly put your finger to his lips. Azriel stills, before he's throwing his head back with a laugh. A teasing smirk on his lips.

He leans in pressing a tender kiss behind your ear, before leaving a couple more kisses down your neck. "You smell really good today", he hums against your skin. "Oh, so I usually stink?", you snicker, moving your fingers to comb through Azriel's messy curls. "I did not say that. You just smell exceptionally good tonight. New perfume?", he continues to nibble at your skin. Hand squeezing your hips. "Mhm...", you purr, "It's called one horny mate", you tease him, making Azriel pull his gaze back to your eyes, smirking.

"You think you're funny?", he asks you, drink long forgotten as his hand kneads your thighs. Fingers brushing way beneath your dress. "I think I'm hilarious, sweetie", you beam at him. Squeezing his cheeks as you pull him closer to your lips. It's rather messy. Eager and wild. To the point where your teethes are clacking together, but Azriel's palm is cradling the back of your neck as he deepens the make out sensation even more.

You're brushing your red lipstick off him once you two pull apart. Just now Azriel is leaning closer to you. Head on your shoulder as he nuzzles closer. "I wish I could lay on your breasts", he whines. His hand brushed the cup of your dress. "Azriel", you hiss before laughing, "You're turning into a baby". But the shadow singer only hums, "Your baby, though". You just shake your head, letting him nuzzle onto you. Going back to brushing your fingers through his hair. After a moment of silence Azriel says, "Can I at least hold your bum if the breast is unavailable, not that you usually complain about it. Cause I do it a lot. Don't I? To...", but you just take his hand resting it on your butt, earning a light squeeze almost immediately. "Happy?", you ask, "Sure, as hell not complaining", Azriel mutters.

[azriels-shadowsinger]

imagine azriel walking in on reader using truth-teller to cut up veggies and fruit, his beloved and legendary obsidian sword, who had slaughtered countless of enemies, reduced to a cooking knife hacking cucumbers and fruit…😭😭

this is so fucking funny he would not know what to do

Azriel had just dropped all of his stuff on the table when he got home because he desperately needed to go bathe right away

You were in the kitchen cooking soup for the two of you for dinner

And when you were about to cut up the carrots you saw truth teller on the table and thought it would be kinda funny

Azriel comes into the kitchen and doesn’t notice for a minute because he’s too busy picking up his things from the table

But when he can’t find his blade, he looks around and sees truth teller in your hand being used to cut carrots

He just stands there with his mouth hanging open not even knowing what to say

You try to hide your laugh at his reaction while you toss the carrots into the soup pot

Because cmon… the infamous truth teller blade cutting veggies? That’s hilarious.

Azriel disagrees, obviously

He rushes over and grabs the blade, looking at you like you’re crazy

“I’ve used that to... I don’t want to eat the blood of the worst males in Pyrithian in my soup!”

Obviously, you scrubbed the hell out of that thing first because who knows where it has been, but you decide to keep messing with him

“It’s probably fine. It will cook out, right?”

That only makes him speechless again and he tries to fish out the contaminated carrots from the pot with a spoon

You finally decide to take mercy on him and admit it was a joke

Once dinner is ready he refuses to eat the soup

You try to eat a bite, but the mental image of where truth teller has been is too gross, so you both decide to go out for dinner

He never leaves truth teller out on the table anymore

[finelinevogue]

family of crazy bedheads

summary - you and azriel spend a morning with your happy daughter

word count: -1k

a/n: this is my first az fic <3 if you enjoy let me know so i can start planning more fics! az is always that character for me that i can’t get out of my head - so here’s how i think about him in fictional form!!

Unalarmed, you were awoken by the soft, tiny, hands of someone crawling over your back.

There was no need to jolt in worry over who it was, because your heart told you instead. You could feel the loving maternal bond you shared with your daughter, Lille, from continents away.

“My love, you’ll wake your mother if you keep patting her like that. And I for one do not want to see her grouchy.” The sound of your mate, Azriel, sounded next to you.

“Grouchy, huh?” You responded, letting him know you were both awake and listening.

“Morning, you.” Azriel placed your wriggling daughter on the bed beside you, wrapping his arm around her body so she couldn’t crawl off it, before leaning down to give you a welcomed morning kiss.

This body felt warm over yours and your desire for him intensified.

Ever since giving birth to Lille your sex drive has been astronomical. Not that Az was complaining. You had discovered that seeing Azriel complete the most domestic of tasks, sent your desire for him through the roof.

“Mm, morning.” You hummed into his soft kiss, feeling the soft bounces of his morning curls tickle your forehead.

“You look beautiful today.” He spoke softly as he hovered over your body on one strong arm.

“You told me that yesterday.” You smiled, reaching your hand up to brush your thumb over his cheek.

“And I’ll tell you again tomorrow.”

“Ba.”

You both chuckled as Lille butt into the conversation. All she was saying at the moment were a bunch of ‘Ga’s’ and ‘Ba’s’ and ‘Da’s’. It was the cutest thing to watch, even if you had absolutely no idea what she was on about.

“Yes, my little love, you look beautiful too.” Azriel smiled down at his daughter, cradling her tighter as she got a bit too curious for the edge of the bed for his liking. “Even with your crazy hair and stained clothes.”

You laughed and that made Lille chuckle too. She clapped her hands together the best she could to show her enthusiasm and Azriel kissed her on the top of her head to show his love.

“You’re so happy, aren’t you?!” You gasped at her, using your baby voice that you only reserved for Lille.

“She gets her bubbly personality from you, my love.” Azriel said, smiling as he watched his two favourite beings interact.

“Well she gets her crazy bed hair from you.” You laughed to yourself, only making Lille laugh more. Azriel could pretend to be offended by that comment, but why bother trying when he had no reason to be anything but happy. The smile on your face and, in turn, his daughters face, was enough to rid any offence.

That, and also the fact he did in fact sport some very crazy bedhead.

“You hearing this, Lille? Your mum is so mean to me.” Azriel pretended to scoff in annoyance, but his daughter was now too interested in fitting her hand in her mouth to pay attention to either of you.

“Sooo mean.” You agreed.

“But I don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

“Not in the slightest. Be mean to me all you want, my love, if it keeps you and her smiling like that.”

[princess-tulip-writes]

hiiii 💗 were you thinking about Az and reader best friends taking showers together after a mission? something cute and also very intimate, maybe some smut if you want to put it, feel free. everything that you write is well done, so I will just trust 🥹🥹💗 thank you 🤍

“you don’t have to turn around, az. i’m perfectly comfortable with you seeing me naked.” you snort as you wash your body off.

his back was facing you, hands covering his gentiles to not flash you them. with anyone else, you might have been insecure about being completely naked in front of them, but not with azriel. he was far too sweet to judge and you were certain he could keep his eyes to himself. he was polite all of the time, even while everyone else feared him. he was the least judgmental being on this earth, centuries of friendship proved that to you.

yet, he was still shy as ever, his cheeks tinted pink as he practically hid from you.

“are you sure?”

you scoffed playfully at his question and rolled your eyes at his manners.

“yes, i am positive.” you giggled as you rinsed off your wings.

you watched the planes of his back and stems of his wings tense, as if he was hesitating to turn around and face you. it was cute, you thought. the way such a flirtatious male could seem so shy with a naked female in a small space with him.

suddenly, it dawned on you that maybe he didn’t want to look at you. you were different, everyone knew it. not only were your wings large for a female illyrian, but your figure was plusher than any fae you had met before. it was something it had taken you years to comes to terms with on your own, with some help from azriel along the way. he would make you feel normal, special with his flirty banter and lingering touches but he had never seen you naked, ever.

perhaps he wasn’t interested to and it made him uncomfortable. you grimaced at the thought of that, feeling some self-hatred bubble it’s way into your throat and tying a knot in your stomach.

“you don’t have to. just know that it’s okay to.” you mumbled.

this mission was very stressful, and you wanted nothing more than to snuggle up in bed with your favorite male and drift to sleep. your wings felt heavier than usual, dirt and blood was packed under your nails and your hair felt unbearably filthy. azriel wasn’t much better; blood was splattered across his back, shoulders and legs, with mud caked in his raven hair. his shadows swirled at his feet defeatedly and the muscles in his back looked utterly exhausted, like the mighty wings perched could fall any second. part of you wanted to lift them for him for some relief but you knew better.

a heavy sigh left his lips before his deep voice cracked through the air. “if i turn around, can you promise me you won’t laugh?”

you furrowed your brows, confusion clouding every sense as you stared at his scarred back.

what on earth would you laugh about? you knew about the scars all over his body from protecting loved ones, and they were nothing to giggle about. you’ve even seen him naked accidentally a few times; nothing was laughable about the shadowsinger’s stunning body.

“why would i?”

“just.” he sighed. “just promise me.”

“okay, i promise.” you said softly.

the shadows at his feet whispered to him, a language you couldn’t begin to understand even after years of hearing the unique communication. you hoped they weren’t making fun of you.

azriel puffed out a breath before shuffling his feet around, revealing himself to you sheepishly. his head hung low, eyes trained on his feet and the dark mist that enclosed the tile floor. his body language looked awkward, as if he felt uncomfortable baring himself to you.

not uncomfortable, embarrassed.

you took him in, trying not to let your eyes travel too low but looking him over enough to find what was funny.

you found nothing but a godlike male in front of you, marred with breathtaking faded scars and toned… everything. not an area of him was soft, his body was completely toned.

so what was there to be nervous about?

“azriel, i swear i’m not just saying this, but what are you talking about? you’re beautiful.”

the spymaster’s cheeks tinted pink at your compliment as he shifted his feet nervously under your intentive gaze. he prayed that your eyes wouldn’t catch sight of what his hands tried to cover, that you wouldn’t kick him out and never speak to him again because of it.

“by the mother, azriel, you are so gorgeous.”

you couldn’t stop yourself from letting another praise slip from your chapped lips. it was so easy, especially since he’s told you how beautiful you are plenty times before. the goal wasn’t to make him flustered, or anything really. his beauty was just so enchanting that you couldn’t help but express it.

screwing his eyes shut, he felt all the blood in his body rush downward as your words replayed in his mind over and over.

‘you’re beautiful.’

‘you are so gorgeous.’

“are you okay, az? are you hurt?” you asked as you took notice of his pained expression.

the mission was dangerous, but you could have swore he was clear of injuries— you checked thrice. maybe it was something internal, like an ash arrow splinter or some kind of spell. whatever it was, you needed to rush him to a healer immediately.

without thinking of how naked you both were, not that he was looking anyway, you stepped closer to him and grabbed at his forearms worriedly, paying no mind to the way he tensed harshly. his eyes found yours reluctantly, trying his best not to pay too much attention to way he could fucking see everything given your height difference. even as he kept his focus on your concerned face, the full imagine of you was there and temping him to stare.

“i’m fine. it’s nothing, just a small headache.” he lied.

he should have known better, really. azriel was a fantastic liar, he even did it professionally, but never to you. you could always see through his fibs, big or small. with one knowing look, he would crumble and tell you the truth. just like now.

“i can’t tell you this time, i’m sorry.”

you glanced around the tile walls in thought, trying to come up with what he could possibly be hiding from you. you and azriel had a no secrets rule, one he set when you when on a date with cassian once, and he took it very seriously on his part. so keeping one now was out of character for your beloved best friend. it worried you deeply, like he couldn’t be himself anymore around you. the thought sickened you.

“why? you know you can tell me-“

he cut you off with a long sigh. “it’s embarrassing.”

“and you think me being naked in front of you right now isn’t?”

azriel knew you had a very valid point, even more so considering your past with body image issues, and he kicked himself for being so insensitive.

“it-“ he sighed once more as he tighten his closed eyes. “i’m sorry.”

you were now immensely curious as to what secret he harbored, what could possibly be so embarrassing that he couldn’t even tell his most treasured friend. the way his eyes were screwed shut tight concerned you greatly.

what if it wasn’t his problem, per say, but it was you? what if he was repulsed by the thought of your naked body? so much so that he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you?

so many negative thoughts ran through your mind, causing you to overlook the way his eyes finally opened as your gaze fixated on the bottle of body wash behind him.

this time, he couldn’t help himself. he tested his luck the last time he looked at you, and his restraint was no longer there, exhaustion made it thinner than usual. his eyes flicked to your breasts immediately, and once they caught his attention, he couldn’t stop drinking them in.

his cock was already hard as a rock, the exact thing that had been kept from you, just from the glimpse of your bare stomach earlier from when you tore your leathers off. but now, he was sure it would take him forever to get it down.

“is it me?”

your voice was weak, the exact tone you would use when stressing over your looks to him. it broke his heart into a million pieces to hear you say that, especially when you weren’t technically wrong, but still way off base.

you were right; it was you. you and your godsdamn body that got him in this situation.

“is it because i’m not as pretty-“

“don’t you dare finish that sentence, y/n.” azriel practically growled at you. “because my cock is so fucking hard right now just from the sight of you.”

your breath caught in your throat at his confession. no way this was real. no, this was impossible. a fever dream, you were dreaming. azriel would never think this way of you in a zillion life times, you were absolutely sure of it. this male, your partner, your best friend, was far too out of your league for him to ever think of you this way. he was lying, no doubt.

but he wasn’t, gods he had never been so turned on in his life.

“you don’t have to say that-“

before you could finish, his hands dropped to his sides for the first time since he stepped into the shower with you. instinctively, your gaze flickered to where the movement occurred, a trait from your spy training you picked up, and the whole world stopped.

you always thought in the back of the chambers of your mind that azriel was big, his wingspan and overall energy gave it away— not to mention the rumors around prythian. but never would you have expected to ever see it.

your cheeks heated incredibly, and you were sure he could hear your heart beat quicken.

for a moment, he had thought he made a grave mistake. your silence and wide eyed expression terrified him to no end until he could see your nipples perk up and smell the sweet scent of your arousal.

“az..” you mumbled breathlessly.

“you are the most beautiful female i have ever laid my sights on, y/n. for centuries i have longed for you, and sat by and listened to the awful lies you’ve said about yourself. everything that you hate, wished would change; i have fallen so in love and lust with. I’m sorry, I just don’t have the energy to lie to you anymore and keep myself away from you. I know it may be very uncomfortable for you right now, and I understand if you no longer want to be-“

before he could finish, you smashed your lips to his. instantly, he returned the kiss and placed his hands on your plush hips, giving them a long awaited squeeze.

“fuck, I want you so bad.” he growled against you.

“then don’t hold back.”

[angelsandstxrs]

obsessed with a private, not secret relationship for azriel and his mate.

warnings: 18+, painfully inaccurate to anything acotar, badly written brainstorming, no usage of Y/N so probs a bit confusing at times, a sprinkle of smut, multi pov, not a main part — but mentions of alcohol, (let me know if there’s anything else) words: ~3.5k

He never spoke of her. Ever. Not even to his brothers.

Partly because neither Rhysand nor Cassian had found their mates, and he wasn’t particularly fond of rubbing it in their faces. But mostly because of the nature of his job, and the people wanting to harm him.

Before her, he hadn’t cared. Younger Azriel had welcomed the challenge of someone trying to get their revenge on him. Had more than once sought it out. After her, there was only one way to harm him, and that was through her. And if no one truly knew what she meant to him, even his own brothers, she would be safe. It was his reasoning for keeping her so close to his heart.

-

“Do you think they even fuck?” Cassian’s slurred whisper was both harsher and louder than he probably intended, caused by the hearty amount of drinks he’d consumed through the night. It was the start of summer, and they’d had a dinner party for some guests at the House of Wind. Azriel and his mate had arrived together, but as usual had kept distance to each other all night, not even sharing a word with one another. It was honestly impressive how little they could seem to care about each other after being mates for so many years.

With Cassian’s question at the forefront of his mind, Rhysand remembered the times he’d called for the spymaster, sometimes in dark hours of the night, and been met by even shorter responses than usual, often breathless, gruff. The spymaster could’ve been training, sparring, honing his swordsmanship, or more likely partaking in other activities that had nothing to do with his role to the court. But looking at Azriel and his mate now, it wasn't hard to believe the former.

“No. They probably shake hands, and then go to their separate bedrooms.” He drawled quietly, idly aware of the shadows curling around his brother’s frame.

Cassian snorted out a laugh, broad shoulders shaking with the effort to hold back the sound. Rhysand’s own lips lifted in an amused smirk, sparing a glance back at the shadowsinger to make sure he still hadn't acknowledged their conversation. He hadn’t, and when Rhysand turned his gaze back to Cassian, there was something challenging swimming in his brother's dark half-lidded eyes.

“Let’s try to make one of them break. Whoever does it first wins. Loser has to fly naked to the mountains and back.”

The smirk on Rhysand’s face widened. Even if it was probably below him and small-minded, the idea of breaking Azriel’s stoic and collected facade was dangerously tempting.

“Deal.” He clasped Cassian’s hand firmly, sealing the bet.

-

A week later they were all at Rita’s. 

She had been dancing with her friends for what felt like hours when she excused herself to grab a drink. The bar was busier than usual, most likely an effect of the High Lord’s presence. She waited for her turn, fanning her hand to her face in an attempt to cool herself down, the lone cold shadow sweeping over her back doing as much as it could to help her. Even in the minuscule dress she was wearing, she was still sweating from dancing pressed tightly together with the rest of the bustling crowd. Right as she grabbed the attention of a bartender, the relief of an iced beverage minutes away, someone squeezed into the sliver of space between her and the person next to her, effectively blocking her view.

“Hello, beautiful.” The tall fae male gave her a blinding smile and rested his arm on the counter, crowding her in. 

She blinked up at the stranger in confusion, before turning her head to wave for the bartender. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” He continued, leaning into her space again. 

The bartender had continued serving another guest, and all the others were at the very far end of the other side of the bar, out of her reach. 

She turned her attention back to the unknown male who was still giving her one of those charming looks that he probably thought made him handsome, and sighed.

“You know what? Yes, you can buy me a drink. Something cold, please.” She forced a smile when the male’s face lit up. He turned quickly, long arms and tall statue gathering the attention of one of the bartenders that she’d failed at signaling. Whilst his attention was elsewhere, more cold whisking darkness suddenly crept up her legs, joining the one already on her in comfortably wrapping around her.

After the male had ordered, he focused on her again, forcing her attention from the familiar shadows.

“I have to say, you are one of the most beautiful females I’ve ever seen.” His arm was back on the counter, nearly grazing her cleavage that was left mostly exposed with the low neckline of her dress. She glanced up at him with an unimpressed look on her face, finding him staring straight down at the swell of her breasts.

Before she could call him out on it, the bartender pushed their drinks up on the bar. She snatched one of the already condensed glasses and left some money on the bar before quickly making her escape.

“Thank you,” She offered a tight smile, raising her glass. “I have a mate.”

His charming grin fell, eyes widening on her, not even noticing his drink getting stolen by another thirsty guest.

“But they said-,”

She didn’t stay to hear the rest of whatever he had to say, already pushing into the crowd on the dance floor again.

In one of the few booths, Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel were in a game of cards when Cassian’s gaze had drifted over the room. It didn’t take Azriel long to catch his brother’s straying attention, eyes lifting from the cards in his hands to find the Lord of Bloodshed watching the crowd with a silently amused expression.

“Already giving up, Cass?” He teased, reaching for his drink on the table.

The ghost of a smirk on Cassian’s face solidified, dark eyes narrowing on something further away towards the bar. 

His voice was deceptively light-toned when he exclaimed, “Your girl seems thirsty.” 

Azriel turned his head in the same direction Cassian was staring at, finding her in a heartbeat. She was conversing with another male, the side of her face glowing in the low twinkling lights of the bar, long wavy hair cascading down to her waist and grazing the small of her back. Without really meaning to, his eyes pulled lower, over the tempting curve of her hips and lush backside accentuated in the tight material of the dress she was wearing.

He had picked it out for her tonight for a reason, the way it exposed her thighs and clung onto her every curve had Azriel salivating at the mere sight. Even more so when she turned, the low neckline leaving his jaw aching with the need to sink his teeth into the soft flesh on display. Whilst blatantly staring, he caught the flush spread on her chest and discreetly sent more of his shadows to cling to her, hoping it would help cool her down.

“It is warm in here.” He stated simply, turning back to his brothers who were now both watching him.

“You’re going to let another male buy her a drink?” Cassian’s eyebrows rose to his forehead, wide eyes darting between the bar and Azriel. 

His shadows relayed every piece of information to him, how the idiot at the bar was gawking down her dress, getting closer to her. But also her desperation for a cold drink, her unenthusiastic expression whenever he tried to compliment her, her longing to get back on the dance floor with Mor and her friends.

“She can handle herself.” Azriel shrugged, knowing it was true. He also knew she would signal if she was uncomfortable with the attention, and that his actions would be completely different in that case.

Rhysand shook his head, chuckling under his breath, “I envy you, brother.” 

He didn’t sound like he did. Azriel didn’t point it out.

“You will once I win all your money.” He opted for instead, the corner of his mouth tipping upwards when his brothers returned to the cards in their hands.

-

It was Starfall, and the townhouse was strangely bustling with people. For some reason Rhysand had extended invitations further than the Inner Circle this year, something that had never happened before, to her knowledge at least. Some of her friends from the school she was volunteering at had turned up, so she wasn’t complaining, in fact she’d had a great evening. 

She glanced at the clock hung on the wall. It was nearing midnight, not close enough to have the crowds moving out to the garden, but enough to make her excuse herself from her friends that had been hanging out in the kitchen and make her way towards the living room. 

The sounds of people talking in the bigger room, almost drowned out the instrumental music flowing from the small band Rhysand had hired for tonight. She still took time to send the guitarist a smile, one of her old students from nearing ten years ago. 

Even crowded, the living room in the townhouse held a familiar warmth and coziness she doubted any of the High Lord’s raucous parties could destroy. She slid her gaze over the room as she made her way to the bookcase where Rhysand had stowed away his finest wine. Partly on the lookout to not get caught, and partly to linger her eyes over the presence that had been haunting her peripheral for longer than she cared to admit.

Azriel was stood near one of the large windows facing the Sidra, leaning against the frame with his arms firmly crossed over his chest, hazel eyes cast downwards and mouth quirked up into what she could decipher as a ghost of a polite smile. At first she thought him alone, but then she spotted the smaller statue perched in front of him. A female. 

She stayed near the bookcase and kept her eyes on the pretty brunette as she reached for the wine bottle hidden behind a stack of books. The female kept talking, her glossy plump lips drawn up into a shy smile and cheeks flush with a sheepish blush. It was clear she was nervous, there was no need for Azriel’s spymaster abilities to see it, she kept touching her hair and casting her doe-eyes down to the floor as her blush deepened. 

She almost felt sorry for the poor girl. If anyone knew how intimidating Azriel could be, it was her. But she couldn’t help but linger on the entertainment, taking sips of the perfectly aged wine as the girl kept fluttering her long lashes at her mate. When Rhysand stepped up to her with knowing look on his face, she did nothing but smirk at him over the rim of her glass.

“You’re not going to do anything about that?” He pushed, curiosity swimming in his violet eyes.

She drowned her glass, the smooth cherry liquid warming her insides, and pushed it into the High Lord’s conveniently empty hand. Azriel’s brothers had never understood, always poking to provoke any reaction.

“He knows his way home.” She stated simply, waving her fingers in a small wave before leaving as Rhysand stared after her, baffled and defeated.

She barely made it to the gate before black smoky tendrils started crawling up her strutting legs.

“Leaving so soon?” His deep voice was nearer than she expected, steps silent behind her clicking heels.

“Surprised?” She mused, turning her head slightly to catch a glimpse of the angel of death towering behind her. He was a sight to behold, as usual, dark pants and dress shirt clinging perfectly to his sculpted frame, jacket left open even in the cold winter air, wings as black as the night sky stood proudly behind him, framing the achingly beautiful face she had the privilege to wake up to every morning. The gleaming bond in her chest tightened without meaning to, at the sheer love she felt looking at him.

“Never.” He drawled, long legs catching up to her before she could open the gate leading to the pathway into town. His warm hand stopped her own from pushing down the handle, making her turn her head again to look up at him. 

Azriel had already tilted his head down towards her, the heat of his body bleeding against her back.

“Missed me?” She smiled, reaching her free hand to curl around the back of his neck, gently pulling his head down further.

“Always.” He mumbled, hazel eyes flickering down to her lips as his head lowered slowly. The warmth of his breath washed over her mouth and her eyes were just about to flutter close when she caught movement in one of the big windows facing the Sidra and front lawn. 

“Why are Rhysand and Cassian staring at us?” Her sudden question had Azriel straightening and whirling his head around in the direction she was already looking in.

The two dark silhouettes moved comically fast, scrambling from the window like it hadn’t been abundantly clear that they’d been staring. It took less than five seconds for Azriel’s shadows to dart towards the house and return, eagerly curling around their master’s ears. 

Her brows furrowed in confusion when Azriel’s face went from blatant surprise to recognition, and then landed in an eerily hard set of his jaw.

“What is it?” She inquired softly, making him shake his head and push down the handle to the gate, guiding her onto the path towards town with a palm sprawled over her lower back.

“They’re fucking idiots.” He grumbled, dark eyes fastened on the bridge about to lead them over the Sidra. She was still confused by his reaction, and the conflict of emotions flickering along the bond between them. Anger, frustration and protectiveness, paired with an urge to claim that left her skin heating beneath her coat. His shadows kept twirling around him, relaying information that made his mood sour even further.

She stopped him on the bridge, fully turning towards him to make his now darkened cold gaze land on her. His eyes thawed almost immediately, making way for the golden warmth in the mesmerizing hazel.

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” She closed the distance between them, hugging her arms around his middle. In her heels she was tall enough to press a kiss to the underside of his clenched jaw, and brush the cold tip of her nose against the column of his throat before leaving lingering kisses there too. If Rhysand and Cassian were still in the window, they would most likely be able to see them, but she couldn’t have cared less. She soothingly traced her palms up his back and murmured softly, “I’d like to go home.”

Azriel relaxed around her, strong arms wound around her frame and crushed her tighter to him. Without warning, he pushed off the ground, wind howling around them as he flew them home.

The next morning Azriel told her about the bet between Rhysand and Cassian, how they had tried to provoke a reaction by lying to people and pointing them in her and Azriel’s direction for months. Some smaller interactions, like how the male working at her favorite bakery had suddenly asked her out on a date, or bigger ones, like that male from Rita’s who Cassian sent her way.

At first she’d laughed, curled up in Azriel’s arms in their shared bed, amused at the thought of Rhysand and Cassian so desperate to see them together that they’d tried to force it. Azriel hadn’t found it as funny, or funny at all.

“I’ll snap their necks.” He’d muttered into her hair, hands digging into her bare hips.

“Then they would win, wouldn’t they?” She’d light-heartedly reminded, drawing shapes over the swirling Illyrian markings on his shoulders.

He’d pulled back, hazel eyes wild with something that made her pulse quicken, a dimpled grin growing on his face. “I have an idea.”

-

Skin slapping against skin reverberated around the room, mixing with lewd wet sounds and shamelessly loud moans. One of her hands were buried in his black soft hair, the other placed on the desk behind her to keep herself upright as Azriel pounded into her with a furious intensity.

He grunted against her neck, parted mouth gliding over the delicate curve of her shoulder before he sank his teeth into the skin, forcing a loud gasp from her at the sudden flash of pain.

“That’s it, angel,” His breaths grew heavier as her cunt clamped down on him. “So fucking tight-, you feel so fucking good-,”

His large hands gripped the fat of her backside tighter, forcing her body to meet his unrelenting powerful thrusts. Heat grew in her core with every precise slam of his cock against that soft spot inside her. She was so close, head tipped back, nails carving into the back of his neck and polished wood of the expensive desk below her, when the door to the office opened.

“I don’t know where he is. He wasn’t home-,” Cassian’s loud booming voice stopped abruptly, and if she hadn’t been dizzyingly near from tumbling over the edge, she would’ve turned her head to laugh at the dumb-struck look on both Rhysand and Cassian’s faces.

Instead, her back arched out of pure instinct, legs tightening around the hips still driving into her to draw him as close as possible as her cunt began to clench around him.

“She’s about to come. So you better get the fuck out.” The growled warning from her mate had her clinging onto him tighter, the unbearable heat in her core unfurling in a flash when he used the grip on her backside to slam her cunt down on his cock, spearing her hard and deep.

She wasn’t sure if Rhysand and Cassian made it out in time. Truthfully, she didn’t care.

She came with a strained moan of his name, cunt squeezing and fluttering around him as he followed with a heavy groan against the mark on her shoulder. Warmth flooded her core with every instinctual thrust of his hips, the bond between them purring with satisfaction at the claiming.

It took her a few moments to come back to her own, bare chest heaving with panted breaths as he buried his face into her neck, bruising grip on her backside loosening to a possessive caress.

“I love you.” She smiled dumbly, carding her fingers through his hair.

He laughed, a low and deep melodic sound that never failed to make her heart skip a beat. Lifting his head, a soft smile grazed his face as he looked down at her. A hand slid up her spine, gently tangling in the hair at the back of her head to tilt her face upwards to him.

“I love you more.” Azriel breathed out, before his mouth lowered onto her own. The kiss was devouring, fueled with heat and passion. His cock that had barely softened inside her, hardened again, leaving her shallowly rocking her hips on the desk to ease the need stirring in her core.

His hand in her hair tightened, tilting her head back further as his kisses trailed lower over her bared throat.

“Can you be quiet?” He sucked a bruising mark to the spot below her ear that always rendered her brainless.

“Yes-,” she gasped, clinging onto him and rocking her hips faster, more desperately, as he continued to lick burning kisses down her throat towards her breasts. “Please, Azriel. Oh, gods-,”

The rest of her pleas caught in her throat when his hips pulled back at the same time his hot, wet mouth closed over her puckered nipple, tongue tracing the sensitive peak as his cock thrusted up inside her again.

Her legs were shaking when she made her way out of the office, every step adding to the sore ache already forming deep in her core. She refused to show any of it though, holding her head high and feet steady as she opened the door to find Rhysand and Cassian waiting outside. 

“Have a good meeting.” She smiled brightly at them both. Guilt was written all over Cassian’s face, ears sheepishly red and dark eyes darting to Azriel lingering in the doorway behind her. 

Rhysand was harder to read, but he almost seemed to bow his head as she passed, clearing his throat before sounding unfamiliarly embarrassed, “Thank you.” 

Azriel’s brothers left them alone after that. After a particularly cold trip to the mountains and back they agreed that they didn’t want to know what went on behind closed doors, and was more than happy to let her and Azriel be.

[solbaby7]

I love the blurb bar idea and I loved the pina colada one, how about a neat gin n tonic with a salt rim?

[ forced proximity: “you can’t seriously be insinuating that i should sit on your lap.” + smut + az ]

guys i got carried away 🫣🤭 but at least it’s finished and has minimal spelling errors 🤍🩷

-> BLURB BAR <-

To put it quite frankly, you and Azriel didn’t really get along.

It seemed almost easy for everyone else in the Inner Circle to latch onto him; to gravitate towards him and all his shadowy mysteriousness—but not you. Between his victim complex, lack of self-control and the inability to properly communicate his feelings like a normal person, you’d lost your patience for him long ago.

Maybe that’s why you laugh right in Rhysand’s face after he lays down the guidelines for your temporary deployment to the Steppes. Everything sounds perfectly normal up until the end when Rhysand’s lips form the words, “—and you’ll be going with Azriel; he’s already been briefed.”

“Very funny,” Shoulders shake through your laughter, tickled from the joke. “But, you don’t have to go to such lengths just to make me laugh Rhys.”

Your grin fades comically fast and the deep frown that takes it place doesn’t falter long after you’ve left the High Lord’s office and scrounged back to your own chambers to pack. Every move is mechanical, clothes being folded and stuffed away a little rougher than necessary as you try not to think about having to spend seven whole days holed up in a creaky cabin with some brooding bat.

To be fair, Azriel seems no happier than you about the situation, his signature brood securely in place when you meet on the balcony at the witching hour with bag in hand. “Come—let’s get this over with.”

You refrain from commenting on his attitude; hold yourself back from snapping when he snatches your duffle from your grasp just to watch it disappear in a puff of sentient shadow. They’d almost be cute—Azriel’s shadows—if they weren’t so fucking useless. Capable of procuring intel and acting as camouflage but can’t manage to hold two fae long enough to get them to the Illyrian mountains.

No, instead you were subjected to this. Close contact and his fucking hands holding onto your body as he flies on a route you’re unfamiliar with. You eye his wings cautiously, trying to be subtle when you peek over the strong line of his shoulder but being this close? He can feel every beat of your heart against your sternum. Every squirm and twitch of a limb as you try to find a more comfortable place to put your arm. “Will you stop moving?”

“I can’t help it,” Hips shift once more, one leg hitching just a little higher on his hip. “Your fucking daggers keep poking me.”

Azriel tenses up, muscles locking and suddenly you’re being moved how he pleases—both legs wrapped around his waist and a firm forearm clasped around the base of your spine. “Stay.” His voice is rougher than your used to, his blunt nails biting into the sliver of skin exposed to the elements. “Don’t move, we’re almost there.”

That was a lie—it would take hours to make it to the Steppes but the gruff command is surprisingly easy to follow. And while you’ll never verbally admit it, the secure bracketing of his arms around your body was more of a comfort than a nuisance. It’s all too easy to ease into his grasp, allowing sleep to take over until the journeys over and you swear you can feel him cradle you in closer, his nose ghosting over the crown of your head.

He makes absolutely no comment on it when you finally arrive with your hair ruffled, clothes crinkled and the imprint of Azriel’s syphon on your cheek other than a chuffed out, “You snore.”

Instinct screams at you to make some snappy comment back but reason doesn’t allow it to be voiced—not here. Here, you and Azriel would have to appear as a united front, for the males raised in this terrain were bred to sniff out any and all weaknesses to exploit. Only here do you allow the hand that permanently glues itself to the dip of your back, pushing you past rabid animals swollen with pride and snarling with hatred.

Slurs are spat from their lips but Azriel doesn’t pay them any mind, so you don’t either.

He walks through the camps as if he owns them, spine straight and shoulders square. Strong wings stand proudly behind him, shadows guarding your flank until the unforgiving chill is replaced by the stuffy warmth of a mess hall. It’s cramped—a little dirty and smells like a mixture of male and tobacco but either way you’re given a warm meal and fresh water to drink.

The vulgar comments grow more frequent, mutterings of their unwanted appreciation towards your body so sickening that your appetite threatens to scurry away. “They’re disgusting.” You scoff, setting down your tray of food, one hand curled around the chair.

It doesn’t give. Azriel’s boot curled around the leg holds it in place. Arched brows furrow at him, nose scrunching under the effort it takes not to kick him in his shin but there’s something about his body language that make you stop. “They’ll keep doing that shit if they think you’re free game.” Every syllable is clipped; laced with a wildness you’re unfamiliar with—almost as if he’s insinuating that it’s your fault that such brutish males were salivating at the sight of you. Darkness cloaks the hazel tones of his eyes when he meets your own and you nearly miss the gesture he makes.

One hand patting twice at his lap.

“Absolutely not.” Azriel’s boot shoves the seat away completely when you make a move to sit down on it once more. He settles deeper in his own, thick thighs manspreading as deft hands adjust the positioning of his holsters, guiding sharpened weapons away from the area of space he frees up for you. “You can’t seriously be insinuating that I should sit on your lap?”

“I’m not insinuating anything, this is me telling you—sit down.”

You pray he doesn’t see the blush that burns against your cheeks when you take a seat in his lap, his hands resting along the sides of your hips. He keeps eating as if nothing is new. As if he doesn’t realize the way his touch has you squirming against solid muscle through thick leathers, legs subconsciously parting to make more room for the wandering fingers that slide down your thighs, digging into sensitive inner thighs. “What are you doing?” You ask, barely able to grab at the food before you with the way your hands shake.

“I’m sending a message.”

Breath catches when you feel Azriel’s thigh flex between your legs, pressing against your sex in such a way that you’re certain it’s impossible that he hadn’t felt the way you clench in response. “What kind of message?”

“The kind that says someone already owns you.” People are looking, that much you know—can feel their eyes tracking every move. Azriel’s hand splayed over your stomach, his head tucked in the curve of your shoulder as his free hand spies its way through your breeches. There’s a pause, one where you’re time to push him away, to declare that this was entirely too far and smack him clear across his face.

That doesn’t happen. Your legs only part further, making more room for needy fingers to shove past your panties.

It’s a foolish decision, you can feel it the second you make it. As if you’d just unconsciously confirmed the ridiculous notion that you were one of Azriel’s possessions. To do as he pleased. To sit there splayed out across his lap like some puppet and allow him to take the reins and show off all your tricks until you’re boneless and drooling.

He’s too good with his hands. Too slick with the sly filth he mutters into your ear as he fondles at your clit under the table, pressing firm circles into the bundle of nerves until you’re panting like a bitch in heat.

You barely remember how much you hate him when he touches you like this. Until the orgasm fades and your consciousness clears and even though the way you lean into the dip of his neck appears like some typical lovers embrace—bystanders fail to hear the sharp way you sneer, “Tell anyone about this ever and I’ll fucking kill you.”

[blue-siphoned]