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tadpolesonalgae · 10 months ago

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Shared Camomile[*]

Elain x fem!reader

synopsis: after months of practically living together, Elain finally broaches the topic she’s been longing to share with you. You’re reluctant, doubtful, nervous. Two females? That can’t be right. So Elain takes it on herself to go out into her little garden to find something to help convince you of what you should already know. That you’re hers.

a/n: cannot believe it’s taken this long for me to write something like this for Elain

warnings: use of an aphrodisiac/love potion from Elain, technically dubcon, smut, facesitting, fingering, pussy eating, squirting, fluff for my favourite girl 🩷🧡💛

word count: 3,662

“What?” You ask, perplexed, tilting your head slightly before your lips are stretching in a wide smile, cheeks aching as they flush with laughter. “Move in together? You are funny Elain.”

Dark, rich cocoa eyes blink at you quietly from across the table, her burnished gold hair hanging in full ringlets, spilling over her shoulders while small coils of silky hair quirk and twist over her brow. Between you is a cooling tray, holding the berry tarts you’d spent the morning lovingly making, flour-dusted aprons doing little to prevent the powdery mess from puffing into the air and dusting the fabric of your dresses. The smell is delicious, able to pick out the distinct citrus of the lemon and orange, the pleasant apricot and sweet blackberry, each held within a circle of thick, crispy pastry, golden-brown on its crust and slightly flaky.

“Do you really find it so absurd?” She asks, a touch fainter than before, and you think you catch a look of hurt across her pretty features. You blink, caught off guard by her expression—you’d thought it a joke. “I…” you fumble briefly, unsure of yourself. “Is it…normal for two women to live together in the human lands?” You ask tentatively. “I had understood it was much the same as it is here, from how you’d spoken about…” She nods her head faintly, neither of you particularly wanting to mention the name of her past human lover.

“No, you’re right,” she says softly, glancing down over the tray of delicious pastries, still steaming slightly with heat, their centres looking soft and slightly more liquid than they should. Once they’re cool, they’ll possess a more jam-like consistency—a little thicker, and less prone to spilling down one’s front after a bite. “But folk seem more content here. Happy to let people love,” Elain says, warm brown eyes raising to yours, her long lashes fluttering slightly with nerves that only fae eyes could pick out.

“Besides,” she continues, standing straighter, fingers splaying across the kitchen counter, “you spend so much time in this house, with me, that nothing much would really change…”

“Yes, but don’t you think people might get the wrong idea?” You counter. It’s a nice idea—lovely, even—but nice things aren’t always possible to have. Elain inclines her chin a little, “and what would be the wrong idea, in this case?”

Your brow furrows. “That we’re lovers,” you reply, before wincing. “Not that two females loving each other in that way is wrong,” you swiftly amend, “just that, that’s not what it would be for us. People would get the wrong impression.”

“You don’t…” Elain begins faintly, watching you as if in a daze, before shaking her head, the pretty, dark gold ringlets jostling with the motion. “Maybe we should have this conversation another time. In the evening, when we’ll have longer for a deeper discussion.”

Elain smiles a little, a familiar softness to her features, and you can’t help the one that spreads across your mouth in reply.

“Tea?” She offers.

You nod, happy to accept whatever strange new herbal concoction she’ll serve you.

————

You swallow thickly, reaching for the glass of chilled, crystal-clear water on the small table, speckles of condensation fogging up its sides, small droplets gathering before trickling down over your hot fingers.

You drink deeply, but it doesn’t seem to help with the warmth that’s been steadily accumulating within your body. The house shouldn’t be this hot, and yet you find yourself reaching to undo another button on your blouse, enough that if anyone else were accompanying you in the parlour, they would have an ample view of the lace peaking out from beneath the soft fabric of your shirt.

Anxiously, you rearrange yourself in the large armchair, the circular, hand-embroidered pillows being removed from behind you, and tossed onto the long sofa in the hopes you’ll feel a bit cooler. Quilts hang over the back of each chair, so as to keep warm in the evenings during winter, but as it currently stands you can hardly bear to look at them without a wave of heat washing through your body.

Taking another deep drink, you attempt to refocus your mind on the little botanical book you’d picked up from Elain’s night-stand a few days ago, steadily leafing through it while your friend works outside in her garden, watering plants, repotting small flowers, and so on. Usually you find yourself sitting in one of the hanging chairs—circular seats woven like bird nests, inlaid with pillows and cushions to prop up one’s back, allowing the user to rock faintly on the comfy swing—watching as the burned-orange of the sun spills over Elain as she works. It’s a pleasant routine the two of you enjoy during the warmer months, while most things are blooming, branches hanging heavy with fruits that’re full and bursting with juice, vibrant petals that unfurl in bright clusters of colour and aroma.

Instead you’d retreated for the time being, having thought the evening haze was somehow getting to you more than usual, wanting to slink into the relative coolness of the indoors until the heat had passed and you could return. But it hadn’t passed, and you’re really considering undoing another pearly button. Considering hiking your skirts a little higher too, despite the almost sheer fabric.

————

Elain glances up from the gardening bed, noting how far the sun has descended in the sky, the lengthening of the shadows.

You’d disappeared a little over an hour ago, mumbling about wanting to cool off, and Elain would guess you’ll likely be wanting to strip the clothes from your body about now. She glances away briefly, a hot flush overcoming her cheeks, the smallest tinge of guilt in her heart. But ultimately it’s harmless, she assures and reassures herself, it’s not like she’s doing something you truly would hate her for. She’s just…bringing to the surface what already exists. Hurrying along the blossoming of a flower by nurturing and nourishing it correctly.

You’ll be blooming for her in no time.

You likely already are.

Elain tugs the fullness of her lower lip between her teeth at the thought.

She’s no stranger to these mental images, and has grown rather comfortable with them over the years. But she’s tired of having to fight them off, of feeling the slightest ounce of shame in her heart when she’s failed, and has had to look you in the eyes the next morning, knowing yours are the eyes she came to. Your nose, your mouth, your features she’d pictured…your scent she’d tried to imagine…your sex she’d…

Elain shakes her head, raising from the gardening bed. Inside you’re probably melting like a toffee left in the summer’s sun, dripping sticky sweetness for her plunge her tongue into. All she needs to do now is to stop by the washroom to clean her hands, then she can go see how your body is reacting to the sweet ambrosia plant she’d been carefully nurturing these past few months. Reacting to the sun dried leaves she’d crushed up to make a tea out of.

She can practically taste you already.

————

You hadn’t realised how far you’d spiral when you’d started.

Hadn’t realised how deeply the heat would numb your mind when you’d fumbled your way to the sofa on shaky legs, and laid yourself across its plush length.

Hadn’t realised how exposed you would be when you’d rolled onto your side, plucking a cushion up, and shyly placing it between your thighs, starting off with small rolls of your hips before your movements became more languid.

Now your hair is messy, silky locks having separated from your up-do, baby strands curling at your temples and the nape of your neck. A few more pearly buttons have been popped out, leaving you in the thin white vest you’d donned this morning beneath your dress, and your skirts have pooled around your waist.

Still you’re too hot, feeling the dampness that’s gathered along your spine, the slight perspiration between and beneath the swell of your breasts and you could cry from the discomfort. If you could only remove your clothes entirely, then maybe you’d feel an ounce of relief…but what if Elain finds you? A fresh wave of heat splashes over you, and you think a moan slips out, burying your face in the pillow you’re resting on. You need to take your clothes off…you’re going to overheat if you keep like this…

With trembling fingers and weakened muscles you manage to sit up enough to tug the material from your body, the skirts further mussing your hair as they caress over your shoulders. As soon as you can you’re flopping back into the cushioning, panting as you reposition the pillow between your thighs, shifting so the seam is pressing flush with your heat…but your underwear is still in the way…

You whine faintly.

You just want relief…

“Are you—…”

Your half-lidded gaze meets a fully dilated set of cocoa, a deep, apricot flush on her sugar-powdered cheeks.

Fresh heat licks across your skin, a soft moan dragging from your lips as your body melts over the sofa. Heavy pants spill from your mouth as you gaze at her, lids fluttering faintly in your attempts to keep watching her. Elain would be perfect…the perfect shape, the perfect feel, the perfect heat to soothe your own… Elain can fix this.

“E…Elain…” you call out, trying to push yourself up into a sitting position, keeping the pillow flush between your thighs. “Elain…please…”

Her mouth opens as if to speak, but she can’t find her words, her feet tipping into motion as she’s carried silently across the floor until she’s reached you. “What…—” But you cut her off when you reach for her, fingers linking with her own pristine set, squeezing her lightly. “Elain,” you cry softly, “please… Please, I need…”

You watch a little fearfully as her lips tug up at the corners, her eyes still wide with infatuation, transfixed on the lithe motions of your form, the way your hips glide over the cushion in attempts to feel some kind of friction.

“What do you want?” She asks lowly, hunger in her usually sweet eyes, and you could cry. You are crying. “You…!” You beg softly, gripping her tighter, “you, Elain. Please!” She hums with faint amusement, settling lower to the floor so you’re at eye level. “How?” She asks gently, watching you with a leisure that’s not at all appropriate for the undercurrent of energy that’s simmering beneath your skin.

“Hotly. Messily,” you plead, trying to pull her closer, “immediately.”

“Hmm? But we aren’t lovers?” She points out, still smiling faintly, hungry warmth curving her full mouth. Full, berry-coloured lips that you bet would taste far better than any of the tarts on the counter. You don’t know how to respond to that other than with a desperate, pleading look, squeezing her hand beseechingly, inclining your head to shyly offer your mouth.

Her eyes twinkle, and your heart flutters as she leans forward, dark golden ringlets of hair teasingly brushing against your unfairly sensitive collar bones, lips grazing your own. “What do you want?” She repeats softly, quieter than a breath, able to feel each syllable over your mouth. “Elain,” you answer in return, fingers trembling, so close to getting what you need.

You feel the flutter of her lashes against your cheek, the ticklish fan of breath across your lips as she laughs softly, before gently setting her mouth atop your own.

A hot tear escapes down your cheek, hips winding over the soft cushion as she rests over you, and you shyly press back, curving up into her as you incline your chin, heart fluttering in your chest wildly at the intimacy.

“You want some more, don’t you?” She asks when she’s pulled away, and you nod desperately, more than a little out of it, with the flush that’s heating your body, the arousal that’s softening your limbs. “Alright,” she murmurs, still with that strangely wicked smile on her lovely lips, “but keep still.”

You whine when she pulls away, then shut up when she begins disrobing herself, leaving her bare save for the underwear clinging to her hips, perfectly matching your own state of undress. “What do you think?” She asks lightly, both her arms pulled back from her chest, hands likely wrapped together at her back, allowing you to take her in. Your eyes nearly roll, needing her to put her body on you now, needing to kiss her again, to touch her and taste her. “Let me taste you…” you beg without thinking, causing her flush to deepen, parting the stance of her delicate feet ever so slightly.

“You don’t even know what you’re asking for,” she replies softly, undeniable arousal rolling from her body, perfuming the room with a scent like vanilla, but slightly muskier, slightly heavier. It smells delicious. Like something you’d delight in having in your mouth.

Elain smiles at your dazed expression, before dipping her fingers slowly beneath the band of her underwear, liking how your hips take on a more urgent wind over the pillow, still so desperate as the tea works its properties into your bloodstream, short-circuiting your mind to bring out your basest desires.

“You want a taste?” Elain recalls, and you whine when you pick up the wet noises coming from between her thighs, how her arousal becomes more concentrated, and you nod your head. “Please, Elain,” you moan breathlessly, “come closer…”

“I’ll come where I like,” she replies, making your spine arch.

“Please,” you beg, “come over here.”

It seems she finally takes pity on you, slowly making her way over to you. Your eyes flutter lightly when her fingertips brush hair from your face, the ones with her arousal on brushing teasingly across your lips, and you part them needfully for her. Tipping upward into her touch, so, so, desperate for more. Elain reads that in your expression, and smiles. “If I let you have a taste,” she murmurs, fingers pressing a little closer to your mouth, so close to slipping inside, “you think it might be nice if you stayed?”

You nod dimly, staring up at her pretty, cocoa-coloured eyes.

“Answer me, sweet pea,” she instructs.

“I’ll stay,” you whisper back.

Elain smiles fully, and the moment feels so right it’s almost enough to take you out of the haze. But then she’s carefully swinging a leg over you, her lovely back turned so she can peer down your body, and for the first time that evening you’re aware of your mouth watering. “I knew you’d come round to it,” she says breathlessly, her thighs trembling slightly with adrenaline and anticipation. After all this time she’s so close to having you—it’ll no longer be restricted to her dreams, or her fantasies. “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

“Elain,” you beg, lips feeling numb and tingly, just so desperate to be entirely swept away by her fragrance, her feel, her flavour. “Elain, please…” you breathe, staring longingly between her parted thighs, able to arrange just how well she’ll fit over your face.

“Alright, sweet thing,” she murmurs, fingers tracing across your stomach, feeling across the soft expanse as if she’s studying new land under her jurisdiction, brushing the band of your underwear. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Thoughts and words are obliterated away as she settles over you, the heat of her soft skin feeling so right and familiar, and your eyes slide shut in pleasure. In a far away part of your conscious, your body raises its hands to slide over her thighs, slinking over her hips to pull her flush to your mouth, able to feel the dampness of the fabric against your nose and lips, and—Gods she’s perfect.

Elain’s fingertips teasingly trace over your abdomen, watching how tiny muscles flutter and contract beneath her ticklish touch, gently prying the pillow away from between your thighs to make room for her own hands. She swallows heavily, spine curving as she experimentally shifts her hips over you, revelling in the press of your mouth and nose against her heat.

“Open your mouth,” she breathes, fingers trembling as they push your underwear away, licking her lips as she spots the gleaming threads of slick that are webbing between the wet fabric and your wetter cunt. You don’t respond, and she blinks, shifting her hips to glance over her shoulder—your eyes are closed, and she can feel the heat radiating from your body, the absolutely blissed out expression on your features. Her heart fumbles, and she decides to let you enjoy yourself for the moment—her pleasure is secondary to your own.

“That’s it, sweet girl,” she says instead, palm cupping your bare heat, feeling your hips buck into her hand at the promise of stimulation. “Lay back and enjoy it,” she goads, running her fingers over your cunt, pressing lightly at your clit, feeling how a pulse of pleasure passes through you at the light touch alone. “So lovely and wet—is this all for me?”

A shiver of pure pleasure drips down her spine at the deluded moan you breathe onto her cunt, thighs parting as she languidly rolls her hips over you, shuddering with blissful exuberance at the feel of your mouth and nose pressing so delightfully against her. Enough so that she raises them just enough to vanish the fabric away, before gently reseating herself atop of you, taking a moment to bask in the intimate feel. The strangely territorial feel as she winds her hips, knowing your nose, lips, and chin will be gleaming with her arousal. Hers.

Biting her lip, she spreads your legs wider, rolling the pads of her fingers over your clit carefully, guessing how sensitive the ambrosia plant tea will have made you. And she’s completely right. Rewarded with a lovely whimper that causes her skin to prickle, storing away the small noise and already thinking what she can do to make you repeat it.

“Do that again,” she asks, fingers running down over your wet cunt, light and teasing in her touch, tauntingly circling your entrance, feeling as you try to suction her deeper, tightening around nothing. You release a whine, and Elain smiles faintly, cupping one of her breasts as she thumbs across the peak, soothing their sensitivity as her head tips back from the relief. “That’s it,” she encourages, “all you need to do is keep making those sounds for me okay? Keep telling me what you like, how you’re feeling. Don’t try to hide them from me.”

You moan loudly when her fingers sink inside of you, two gently plying you apart, pumping and curling while the heel of her palm glides across your gleaming clit, hips bucking needfully up into her hand as your arousal begins to be satiated. “Elain…” you moan without reason, simply unable to think of any other noise to make as her heavenly scent filters into your lungs, spreads through your body, following your instincts to open your mouth, and lick.

Elain’s spine curves, a moan spilling from her lips as you softly apply yourself, tongue flattening over her clit, swiping up through her centre to kiss at her entrance, feeling dizzy from the eroticism of laying your mouth over such an intimate part of her. Feeling her coat your mouth like a lip gloss. You’d wear her every chance you could get.

“That’s it…” she moans, fingers rubbing against a spot inside of you, and your arms coil over her pretty hips, pulling her flush against your face, making out with her pussy to hear more of those sounds, taste more of her flavour, have more of her coating you like she owns you.

Elain sighs contentedly, hips rocking over your mouth before she’s dipping down, and you cry out onto her when her tongue swipes across your clit, thighs shaking with the sensitivity—how she licks through your centre, circling and suckling the apex of your thighs while her fingers are working you so well. The pressure she’s creating around your clit, her scent in your lungs and her taste in your mouth, the hot, feminine weight of her over your lips partnered with the delightfully full press of her fingers, how they curl against spots even you hadn’t know you had, her tongue licking at your clit, saliva mixing with your slick…so messy…

You cry out as you come, and Elain gasps as you squirt, surprised as the liquid arcs from your pretty cunt. Her lips part on the surprised inhale, before she’s being driven by hunger, sealing her mouth over you entirely, tasting as much of you as she can, working her wonderfully wicked tongue to draw out your orgasm, the orgasm that belongs to her.

She feels it as she’s tipped over the edge, at last pulling away from your overstimulated cunt to spread her thighs wider and grind over your mouth, dragging her clit over the hot swell of your tongue, her eyelids fluttering with pleasure and all she can think about is getting to turn around and put her mouth over your own. Which is exactly what she does, before the aftershocks have even completely faded, tasting herself on your lips and tongue, flicking against the roof of your mouth as she presses her body closer to you, thigh now pressing between your own, feeling a strange sense of pride as you grind against her, wanting more so desperately.

Elain can tell from your scent alone you’ll be needing much more than just one orgasm to get you past the herbal-induced heatwave she’s subjected you to.

And she’s more than delighted to help you see each and every wave through to the end.

general taglist: @myheartfollower @tcris2020 @mali22 @slut4acotar @sfhsgrad-blog @needylilgal022 @hannzoaks @hnyclover @skyesayshi @nyotamalfoy @decomposing-writer @soph1644 @lilah-asteria @nighttimemoonlover

#heart dividers by cafekitsune #elain x reader #elain x reader smut #elain smut #elain archeron smut #elain x fem!reader #elain x f!reader #elain x fem!reader smut #x f!reader #elain x f!reader smut #shared camomile

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 1 year ago

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IN EVERY UNIVERSE

── Azriel x Fem!Reader

(i try to be as non descriptive as possible but do use she / her, and mention reader being shorter than all the guys.)

CHAPTER ── INTRODUCTION

Ever since you were little, books have been your escape. Whether it was needing to get away from a bad day at school or an immature fight with a friend when you were a kid, or a rough day at work as you got older, reading allowed you to temporarily forget all of that.

You imagine what the characters might look like, you dream up scenarios for them that don’t happen in the books. And like so many others who do the exact same thing, you can’t help but wish characters were real so that they could sweep you off your feet. Ugh, what you wouldn’t give to have a certain one-armed super soldier call you doll.

You thought the MCU was where you wanted to exist the most… and then you were introduced to ACOTAR.

It didn’t take long at all for you to become another one of the many girls to fall for Azriel. You dreamt of what he might look like. And of course, knew he’d fall in love with you. Would you guys follow the enemies-to-lovers trope? Childhood best friends turned significant others? Or would it be a love-at-first sight moment for the shadowsinger, who would do everything in his power to get you to notice him? The answer depended on your mood, of course.

As much as you loved to fantasize, you also knew you had to be realistic. Azriel didn’t actually exist, at least not in your world.

One night, you even go so far as to convince yourself that all the hopeless dreaming had to stop. From that moment on, you’d still enjoy books, but you wanted to do your best to stop imagining a life for yourself in worlds you’d never get to visit.

It’s definitely easier said than done, but you go to bed that night confident that it’s the right thing to do.

Only, when you wake up the next morning… something is off. This isn’t your bedroom. The clothes you’re wearing, you’ve never seen before. And why does the man that has just entered your room look exactly like how you pictured Azriel?

TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES ONLY ── if you requested to be tagged and your name isn’t clickable, it means i wasn’t able to tag you! also sorry to anyone who might’ve gotten their hopes up thinking this tag mean i posted it, but i promise it’s coming sometime this week! this is just so i’m able to keep track of who asked to be tagged.

TAGLIST FOR ALL THINGS AZRIEL ──

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ADDED TO THIS SERIES TAGLIST, LET ME KNOW! (you can specify just this series, or all things Azriel)

#acotar au #acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff #azriel angst #azriel x fem!reader #azriel x female!reader #azriel x you #azriel x reader #cassian #rhysand #inner circle #acosf #acomaf #acofas #feyre archeron #elain archeron #morrigan

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miya-suns · 15 days ago

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A Court Of Moon and Shadows

Masterlist - Prologue

Warnings: a little suggestive. Nothing more, I think

Words: 2.8k

One:

Selene reveals that she is leaving, and Azriel makes her an invitation.

It was the last time he saw her.

His shadows informed him that Selene had moved near the Palace of Lines and Jewels, living next to an old acquaintance from the Inner Circle.

After that day, he had been too busy with the war, espionage, the trap in Hybern, while he was wounded, venom coursing through his veins, preventing him from doing anything, to fight against that monster that hurt every person Azriel loved.

There were days when the Spymaster still woke up from nightmares, with the sound of his brother's voice screaming pure horror in his ears as his wings were destroyed, while Cassian protected Azriel with the most precious thing he had, with the thing they had been taught to protect from a very young age.

Horrors and horrors.

Immortal life seemed like a curse every time Azriel had to go through something like that. Perhaps humans were blessed not to live long, and the Mother cursed the fae as unwanted creatures to suffer for eternity.

Then his High Lady infiltrated the Spring Court, and... so much happened. The sadness in his brother's eyes when he returned from the House of Wind, where the sisters were. Where his probable mate was, hating everything and everyone, including Cassian. And then there was the war, and Elain. The name alone made his blood boil. Azriel never expected that one day he would wish for another male's mate. Yet, he could hardly stop thinking about her. The sweetness, the humor, the scent that reminded him she didn’t belong to him.

The smile that made even his shadows flicker.

Selene. Selene. Selene.

The same shadows that tormented him for days with the name of the night-skinned, silver-eyed High Fae.

Selene, Selene, Selene...

Azriel growled at the shadows, which coiled in his ears as the sound of the doorknob echoed in the room.

Selene slid into the house, taking a deep breath, a slight tilt of her lips as she stared at the table, or the Illyrian male sitting at the end of it. Azriel's eyes were dark and tired under the dim light of a fae lantern she had installed only a few days ago.

"Hi."

The Illyrian male analyzed the High Fae. Her long curls had already reached her waist, even more voluminous and unruly, the upper half of them pinned back in a style Azriel had seen Cassian do many times with his own hair. Selene always said she would cut them because they were a hassle to brush, but she never did. Azriel never said it, but he loved them, especially when his fingers got lost in the dark strands.

She wore black woolen pants, a navy blue sweater, a light gray scarf, and gloves of the same color. Even with the scarf covering the lower part of her face, Azriel knew she was smiling.

"Your new home is cozy."

Her arms were crossed over her chest, while her mind seemed to finally rest on the scent of the female. Selene laughed, ignoring him, and went to the kitchen, where she put the fruits and vegetables she had bought at the Palace of Shells and Leaves. Azriel's eyes followed every movement she made.

"Will you spend the Solstice in Velaris?" She asked casually as she arranged her groceries on the counter.

No questions about the events, about the war, about his work, about the months he had been absent. Azriel appreciated this, how Selene simply made things normal while he was there. It was comfortable not having to justify himself, not having to explain.

"Yes. I’ll leave in the morning, after the Solstice."

He didn’t have much to say. After passing on the information he had gathered to Rhysand, Azriel came directly to the house that smelled of citrus, acid, and fruit, with slight hints of lemongrass, much like the female who lived there. He didn’t want to think about the distant smell, mere remnants, of a male in the house.

They were just... lovers, after all.

Selene went to the bedroom and returned a few minutes later wearing only a simple dress, her hair tied up at the top of her head.

Azriel’s eyes followed the almost transparent fabric down to the High Fae’s face, his brow raising in a silent question. Selene stared at him:

"You seem anxious" she shrugged, as if that explained the dress she knew wouldn’t last minutes on her body, a small smile painting her dark lips.

Selene moved closer to the male, his legs parted offering space for her to fit her body, observing him more closely. The shadows around her slithered over her neck like living tattoos, twin to the ones marked on Azriel’s body beneath his leather garments.

One day, Selene had sworn to herself that she would never lie with a male who had those tattoos again. Her fingers rose, touching the black ink on Azriel’s arms and gently tracing them like an artist with a brush.

Her wrist was delicately held by Azriel’s hand. She felt the texture of his scars under her skin, and her eyes watched how the cobalt siphon in her absorbed the light. His wings rustled behind him, majestic, enormous, with their tips dragging on the floor, his shadows returning from wherever they had been to his face, darkening his eyes.

He was beautiful, no more or less. The very definition of the word. Selene still remembered how her breath had faltered between her nose and lungs when she saw him for the first time, hundreds of years ago. How her voice had almost failed when she had mustered the courage to invite him to her house, two decades ago, after noticing the desire in his eyes during her performance at the Rainbow.

The High Fae never understood what made Azriel desire her. Even though his eyes had never expressed more than that. Even though she knew it would be just a casual affair until the Shadowsinger found his mate, or someone who would hold his heart in their hands and give him their soul.

She had seen his gaze at Morrigan, at Rita’s, and didn’t even judge him because anyone would want that female who was like the brilliant sun.

She once wondered if anyone would ever look at her that way.

Selene raised her free hand to his head, her fingers weaving into the tangle of dark strands. Azriel sighed quietly, feeling Selene’s lips meet his as she pulled his head up, deepening the kiss.

The female moaned as Azriel’s hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer before he broke the kiss and moved his mouth down her neck. Selene’s agile hands slid over his shoulders before moving down, unbuttoning the leather jacket Azriel wore.

"You seem anxious" Azriel whispered, before biting the dip of her neck.

Selene didn’t respond, her eyes, clouded with pleasure, locked onto Azriel’s hazel ones, as his hand already slid under the dress, squeezing her thigh, enjoying the sound of the female’s breathing becoming more complicated, her chest rising and falling with each movement of his hand.

Azriel was disturbingly teasing. Painfully silent.

His touches stretched slowly over her body. By now, he knew exactly where to touch, where to press, where to place his lips to draw the best sounds from Selene.

"Azriel... Please..."

He growled, before rising, holding her waist and lifting her. Selene’s legs wrapped around his waist as they kissed with ferocity, and he moved toward the bedroom, lying over her, her body arching beneath his, soft, sweet, and inviting.

Something deep inside him responded to that. To her. The Spymaster had never thought much about it. Since Amarantha had been gone, they had a lot to deal with, then came the Cauldron, the King, the Archeron sisters, the war, and the mess that ensued even after it was all over. He still remembered how he met Selene. How, after Rhysand’s return, he thought about not visiting her again. His affairs rarely lasted more than twice, so why, why did he keep coming back?

Later.

Azriel groaned as Selene’s hands tightened on his shoulders, wrapping around and squeezing near his wings, never touching them. He kissed her with the deepest desire, pulling, taking, drawing the best from her body, from her lips, from her voice whispering Azriel, Azriel, Azriel, as the night grew darker around them.

Later.

He would think about it later.

═════ ☽ ◯ ☾ ═════

Selene opened her eyes the moment Azriel lifted her from the bed. She shivered when her cold, bare skin met the warmth of the Illyrian's. The Spymaster carried her to the other room, where her small bathtub awaited, already filled with water and some essence he had picked up from the small bathroom cabinet.

"I bought this last week" she murmured, her voice hoarse, wanting to fill the silence between them. "To give the house a new scent. I wish I could put something different, but I still can't stand those sweet floral scents."

Azriel placed her in the bathtub, and Selene sighed in satisfaction. She rested her head against the edge, his fingers gliding over her shoulders and arms, shadows moving around the room. Selene blinked, tired and sleepy. Azriel always left her exhausted, and she considered herself resilient. Thinking about this made her stare at him, slightly irritated.

Animal.

"Why are you cursing me?" His tone was not serious. Nothing more than a soft whisper, laced with a succinct amusement, a small glimpse into the multifaceted nature of his personality.

Selene loved it when he was like this.

Maybe it was the warm water, her tired body, or the sleep clouding her mind that made her murmur:

"I’m going to miss you, Az."

He blinked, and she appreciated the confusion that painted his face before he quickly controlled his emotions, his face returning to its usual neutrality.

"I always come back, don’t I?" Azriel murmured, squeezing the sponge in his hands. He would smell like orange blossom for a few hours, but he knew that his sweat and the wind would quickly strip that scent away, as if nature agreed not to allow him to take anything of hers once he left.

As if his selfishness in using her to forget another female was being repaid by the Mother herself.

"I’m leaving Velaris" Selene replied, her eyes intentionally closing, not wanting to see what his expression would show in the next few seconds. "Neve invited me to travel with her next week, and I’m not going to return with her. I’ll see if I can settle somewhere. Maybe in the Winter Court, I’ve always liked the idea of a place that snows all year round, did you know? I hear stories of groups of artists traveling through various places, and I think I might join one of those groups, maybe. I’m not sure yet, but…"

"The courts are still recovering from the war"

Azriel said, his voice echoing firmly in Selene’s ears.

"I know."

"I’m saying you could wait for things to calm down before you go adventuring around the world" his tone dropped lower.

It was madness. The blood in her veins seemed to run faster, a dark and uncomfortable anxiety pulsing in her heart as he tried to control himself, his hand still washing the female, his wings curled behind him.

"Hell fell upon Prythian, Az, and I realized that for someone who’s hundreds of years old, I know very little outside of here. I love Velaris, it’s… it’s been my home since the first moment I set foot here. But I want… more. There’s so much more to learn, to absorb. So many rhythms I want to learn, so many people I want to meet, stories I want to hear, even in the midst of the war’s ruins…"

The shadows curled around Azriel’s ear before sliding into the bathtub, wrapping around Selene’s neck. She didn’t mind, used to the small tendrils that seemed to enjoy curling up and camouflaging on her skin.

"I thought… I thought you were born here" Azriel said slowly, as if his mind was still processing the new information.

He realized that, in two decades, he still knew almost nothing about the Fae in front of him.

"I was born elsewhere. I was found and brought here, and I’ve stayed here for the last three hundred years" Selene shrugged. "I thought… it was time to leave."

She would never tell him that one of the reasons was the Illyrian himself. That the feelings that had grown in her chest had become unbearable to simply… endure. So, it was better to disappear, it was easier to run away than face them head-on, than simply push the male out of her life, push him away before he took more from her than Selene had the courage to offer.

Fear. Selene was afraid.

"I understand" were the Illyrian’s only words.

He emptied the bathtub before grabbing a towel, wrapping her body in it, and taking her back to the bedroom. Selene clearly remembered the first night, her surprise when she woke up clean and dressed. She even laughed at Azriel’s expression, still slightly flushed in the bronze of his cheeks as he helped her put on underwear and a random nightgown.

Selene lay down as he finally prepared to leave. Azriel opened the door, and Selene was about to say goodbye when he turned, hazel eyes meeting silver irises.

"Come to the Solstice with me."

Her lips parted in surprise before the Fae furrowed her brow:

"I thought you’d spend it with your family."

"I will. Spend the holiday with us. The eve and the Solstice. I want…" he hesitated, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "I want you to meet them before you go."

Her chest rose and fell with the deep breath Selene took. A few seconds of silence passed. Selene sat up, her hands holding the blanket against her body, her hair. With the light streaming into the room through a glass skylight shining on her, she looked like a painting from the fine arts displayed in the windows of the Rainbow.

"I… I don’t think it’s a good idea. I don’t even have the means to buy gifts for you, Az" she whispered, fearful. "Gods, a gift for Amren would cost all my savings from three hundred years in Velaris."

Azriel laughed, the sound reverberating inside Selene, her hands gripping the blanket tighter as a smile appeared on her face in response to his.

"Don’t worry about it. Just come."

"What kind of clothes do I wear?"

Azriel uncrossed his arms, the blue siphons glowing in the dark. Seven of them spread across the male, bright and lethal. A proof of how powerful he was.

"Wear that dress, for the Solstice" he said, and by the scent the male exhaled, Selene knew exactly which dress he was referring to.

She rolled her eyes but still smiled widely.

"You males, and your peculiar tastes."

The Spymaster merely shrugged, not bothered to defend himself.

"I’ll go" Selene replied, her voice smoothly sliding across the room to Azriel. He nodded.

"I’ll pick you up at sunset."

"Will it be at the house in the city? " He nodded. "I’ll go later, don’t worry. I have an appointment at the Theater on the Solstice eve."

Azriel nodded. Then, his shadows danced around him, peeking behind his wings.

"What do you want as a gift?"

"You’re a spy, shouldn’t you know such a basic thing, Az?" Selene pulled her knees up, feeling more awake, even though her muscles felt numb.

His mouth became a thin line, his shadows surrounding him.

"I’d rather hear it directly from you" his wings shifted, and he moved away from the doorframe, looking uncomfortable. "Like we’ve always done."

"I want to see Velaris. From above." she said, thinking of the wind, the stars, the distant ground, and the song she had been born hearing.

Azriel paused for a few seconds before nodding.

"I’ll take you." His eyes smiled beneath the darkness. "Good night, Selene."

And then he was nothing more than a shadow, sliding quickly out of the female’s house. She sighed, lying down and staring at the shadows that still moved across her ceiling, as if everything wanted to remind her of his presence, as if the scent on her sheets, in her house, on her, wasn’t enough.

Suddenly, she felt incredibly lonely.

"Since… since they listen to him… could they listen to me too?" Selene murmured to the shadows. They moved, sliding down the wall, wrapping around the bed, climbing her body.

The Fae shivered.

But spoke.

She told her story. Her feelings. Her fears. Her horrors. And the shadows listened, as they had listened to that male hundreds of years ago, keeping the secrets shared with them.

Selene kept talking throughout the night until the first rays of sunlight appeared, and the shadows left her, finally allowing sleep to take over her body.

For those who want to be tagged, just comment

#azriel acotar #x black fem reader #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel shadowsinger #inner circle #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian acotar #amren acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x elain #black oc #acotar series #morrigan

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yiiyiiwrites · 8 months ago

Note

Please do winter warrior at winter solstice. What gifts would she give everyone?? Part two to tame the wolf? Please 🥲

Oh this is sweet :) I think winter warrior would bring a mixture of the most bizarre gifts to the most obvious. Nesta is not mated to Cassian 3461words not edited [Previous part]

[winter warrior masterlist]

❄️ Winter solstice

The heat hit you as soon as you entered the townhouse. Your fur coat still tinged with the pink hues of your blood, you'd patched the hole refusing Cassian's offer of buying you a new one. The Garments in Velaris were not as warm or heavy as the ones from the winter court.

Cassian guided your coat down your arms, a twinge of pain surging through your shoulder making you flinch. You were supposed to return in the morning, but you'd ventured into the heart of winter to buy some last minute gifts for your friends. The word felt foreign to you, but you'd come to realise that they were your friends as much as they were Cassian's.

His hand slid to yours, warmth spreading through your frosty veins. You allowed him to guide you down the hallway and up the stairs, the muffled sounds of your friends in the living room. Lights flickered against the narrow walls, Cassian nudging the door open with his foot as he dragged you and the bag of your belongings into his and yours bedroom.

The fire roared beside you, logs crackling in the silent room. Your gaze trailed after Cassian, his armour already shredded and the black swirls decorating his chest, a smirk tugged his lips.

"Is this where you give me my gift?" His brow arched, wings twitching as you stalked towards him. Always the predator in his gleaming eyes.

You traced your nails along his bicep, shaking your head and jutting out your lip. "Sorry, my love but you'll have to wait," you said, you fingers working the buttons of your undershirt. "Think you can manage that?"

He’d already gifted you your solstice present this morning, unable to keep it a secret. A silver locket, snowflake trapped between a glass pendant. Not just any snow though, it was a mixture of the Illyrian mountains and the winter mountains. To anyone else it was found anywhere, but the way the light caught the snow, you could see fusions of blue ice from the first place you met him in the winter mountains. The Illyrian frost a duller white in comparison to the crisp blue hue of your home.

Cassian grumbled, pulling on a clean shirt. His gaze wandered to you as you undressed, brows furrowing as you peeled off your shirt. He let out a deep breath, "God's they really did whip you like an animal," his whispered breath fanned against the back of your neck. He traced the three lines scored into your back, scabs stretching the healing wounds that you could feel the tight pull with every move.

"My love, you forget I am an animal." You stepped away from him, the knot in your stomach leading you back to him. "I deserved it, I shouldn't have lashed out at my sister." You kissed his stubbled jaw, patting his cheek.

"No one deserves that," he trailed after you, through the walk in wardrobe helping you reach for the lighter layered clothing you'd stored away. "Besides I'm sure your sister deserved it, the things that come out that mouth. That's an animal." His distaste for Veyna never hidden, he frequently told you what he thought of her.

You tried to push back the memories of your nails digging into her throat, even the blood spitting from her mouth as she continued baiting you. The wolf snarling, silvery gaze filtering the warm colours around you.

Blinking you, you pushed down the wolf and dressed in a tunic and trousers, inky blue velvet hanging from your shoulders. You were still getting used to wearing light weight clothing, the way your body moved like shadows and the silence of fabrics not rubbing together. The boots you wore thinner, the soft leather laced up and the sole smaller giving you less height.

“Come on,” you tugged him with you. “This is my second solstice, I think I understand the gift part much better now.”

Cassian chuckled behind you, “my love, I’m definitely looking forward to what you think as a gift.”

It was true, you’d messed up last year. Getting people what you thought was necessary, forgetting that they didn’t live in the rugged mountains. You’d hunted food to bring for the feast, only knowing what you’d read from old books in the mountains. That and you gifted them each a lock of lucky witches hair you’d bought from the keeper of forest high in the mountains.

You’d spent the last three months trying to figure out what would be a good gift. Even sneaking away to the healers quarters in the heart of the winter court to ask your sister, Senna’s advice. It was awkward, you’d never given a gift even to your family. Their life was down there whilst yours was in the mountains. The only gift you did get was from the high lord each yeah consisting of supplies and new clothes.

The winter solstice went on for a week below in the heart of the court. You had never celebrated it, your days spent patrolling the forest and mountains like usual. The wicked never slept, that’s what they’d reminded you growing up. You knew that families in the mountains had their own tradition of dinner of the night of solstice, but you didn’t have anyone close to your hut to bother with the holiday. Sometimes though when you woke the morning after, someone would leave food wrapped in a cloth on your doorstep.

Laughter echoed down the halls, the glow of yellow welcoming you into the living room. So much warmth, not just from the fire. Feyre rushed forwards and hugged you, force nearly knocking you over.

“We didn’t know if you were coming or not…” she trailed off her rambling, gaze flitting to Cassian behind you. Her cheeks turning red as she linked your arm with yours. “Elain wanted to give you her present first,” she whispered patting your arm and pointing through the misted glass at the balcony.

You pushed the door open, shutting it behind you and tucking your hands around your body for warmth.

“I knew you wouldn’t be long,” Elain said, smile tugging her lips. She clasped her hands in front of her, a habit she did for you as she realised you followed her every movement.

You don’t know why but Elain made you very aware of every bone in your body as if the wolf would jump from its cage and unleash itself. The straightness of your back and the tightness of jaw setting the dull aches of pain as you willed yourself to walk towards her.

Her gaze was always soft, just like her face and her touch. Something you were still getting used to. The way she chose her words and coated them with kindness surprised you most.

“I respect that you fend for yourself, but everyone needs a little bit of help sometimes. There’s lots of things to aid you when you’re injured.” She said, stepping aside to retrieve a brown bag.

Elain rifled through the bag, pulling out an assortment of health tonics and soothing balms. She knew you too well, knew you wouldn’t look through the contents as if something lurked in there, you peered over looking into the unzipped bag and the ribbons of bandages balled up. It must have taken her weeks to collect it all and she would have had to research certain things you knew only tied to the winter court.

“Thank you,” you said bowing your head and mirroring her smile. “You didn’t have to go to so much trouble, one tonic would have been enough.” Gods now your present paled in comparison.

“Nonsense,” Elain said, swatting her hand, you jerked back before her hand connected to your arm. Fists twisting in the fabric under your crossed arms.

As if sensing the change in mood, the house dropped Elain’s present into her hands. You looked out the corner of your eye, wondering if she’d like the gift.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, breath fogging the glass she held. A small flower nestled on top of a mound of snow, blue petals ruffling as a cloud dispersed snowflakes from above to fall upon them. “This is from your home?”

You nodded, “it’s from the highest peak of the mountains, only grows in snow.” It had taken you days to trek to the top, part of you needed to go that way on your patrol, but another telling you it was perfect for Elain.

“Thank you, I love it. I shall put it on my desk in my bedroom. So I can always see it.” A smile blossomed, the tip of her red nose reminding you to go back inside. She held the delicate glass, her eyes on the flurry of white flakes kissing the petals.

You held the door for Elain to enter first, scanning the balcony out of habit before you retreated into the warmth.

Turning on your heel, your met with the dark wisps and their owner. Azriel smiled down at you, he plucked a small box from the darkness swimming around him and gave it to you.

“Happy solstice,” was all he said before slinking away. He took up space by the door again, leaning against the wall and falling back into conversation with Feyre.

You pulled the thin yellow ribbon, the lid opening as you untied it. A silver coin laid upon shredded tissue, a wolf on one side and a sword on the other. You picked it up, examining the scripture on the side. The coin more of a medal nowadays, was given to patrollers in winter when they had reached a certain milestone. It wasn’t something your court did anymore, but there were still some floating around. You had never seen one though. He didn’t need to hear your appreciation out loud, he nodded to you across the room knowing that it meant a great deal to you.

“What did you get, Az?” Cassian said, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you onto his lap.

Azriel perked up at the mention of his name, he wasn’t expecting a gift and he’d told you not to get him one.

“I may have taken a days leave to hunt someone for you.” You prayed they wouldn’t ask for the gritty details, you squeezed Cassian’s arm before he could ask. “They’re being held in the winter courts tower and ready to be transported at your convenience.” You’d spoke in length with Azriel about a slippery fae who kept flitting between the courts in hopes of pleading sanctuary. Thought you’d make his gift the essence of time, hunt the fae and offer him up for questioning.

“Not today, Az,” Rhys said, stopping Azriel before he could get to work. “Solstice remember.” He patted him on the back, steering him to an armchair by the fire.

Azriel’s hazel eyes connected with yours, smile tugging the corner of his lips as Cassian was trying to coax an answer out of you. How did you find them? Wolf or warrior?

You slumped back, wincing as you back made contact with Cassian’s firm chest. “Gods, this gift giving is hard work,” you sighed, rubbing your forehead. Mor, Nesta and Amren were yet to join you, saying they’d be at the townhouse for dinner.

The rest of your gifts were piled up with the others. Yours could be spotted a mile away, brown cloth wrapped around and tied with string. Colourful shining papers and vivid ribbon bows surrounded yours. Maybe you’d have to ask where to get stuff like that, it did look pretty.

Rhys was busy giving out his gifts, the ripping of paper and gasps filling the room. He stopped before you, “if you’d allow me, I’d like to meet your wolf and help you understand the spirit better for yourself,” his words echoed in your mind, but his lips did not move. Words for you to hear alone and maybe for the wolf to hear too.

His gift meant more than he realised, no one had asked to meet your wolf or offered you help in a way that wouldn’t harm you. You nodded in thanks, his energy slipping from your mind.

You handed Rhys a thin long box, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. It was a gamble and you wasn’t sure if it made you look savage, but it was the only thing you could think of. He slid the lid off, frown settling his head, his violet eyes snapping to you.

“The talons from the naga that attacked Feyre in the spring court,” you said gesturing to the four claws rolling around the box. “The autumn court chased them through to the winter, I came across a group of them in the mountains. Could smell feyre’s scent on that one.”

The room fell quiet, all eyes on you and Rhys as he picked up one of the long sharp talons. Had you messed up? Was this not something normal, least you didn’t bring its head.

“What?” You blurted out, glancing at each of your friends around you. “I did good, right?” Cassian’s face softened, faint smile replacing the frown.

Feyre appeared beside you, palm smoothing up and down your arm. “Thank you, that must have taken a lot of courage. It’s a thoughtful gift,” she said, she took the talon from Rhys and placed it back in the box.

“Will make a good paperweight.” Rhys smirked, dodging feyre’s jab.

You settled next to cassian on the sofa, head resting against his shoulder. The heat radiating from him and the fire calmed you, twinkling lights draped the mantle piece with pine cones and branches. The scent of pine reminded you of home and all you wanted to do was bundle up in a duvet letting sleep take you. The past few weeks catching up with after your dazed hunt.

Mor, Nesta and Amren appeared in the doorway.

Nesta sauntering through the room, her icy stare focussed on you. “I’m glad to see you,” she said, stretching her hand for you to take. She pulled you up, hand clasped in yours as she led to the entryway. There was bite of frost you and eldest Archeron shared, the way it claimed you as cold and detached, made your friendship stronger. One look between you two and you knew what each other were thinking.

You knew what she’d get you, clothes. She’d been the one to give you clothes more fitting for life in Velaris, your heavy set garments no use outside of the winter court. Nesta kept to the same shade of midnight blue, that hung in your wardrobe and complimented your complexion. A long overcoat, white fur trimmings circling the cuffs and hem. Silver embroidered stars and the traditional snowy pattern of your court decorating the soft material.

“Go ahead, try it on,” she said, holding the coat so that you could slip your arms into the sleeves. You winced at your healing wounds, shoving down the ache with a smile. You twirled around, her hand holding her chin as she examined the fit, she was well know to the tailors and you didn’t put it past her that she’d designed it herself.

“I should warn you,” you whispered leaning in to lower your voice as low as you could. “This book is banned so don’t go leaving it around.”

Nesta turned the book in her hands, fingers flicking the yellowing pages. She’d mentioned the author once before, the name never left your mind and you’d been searching for it since she’d confided in you. You managed to get lucky, finding one in a second hand shop in the heart of winter. As if you were meant to find it. She raised it in air, the house hid it away till it was time to leave.

You removed your overcoat, folding it back up in its neat box and set it aside on the cabinet in the hall. Nesta and you made your way to the dining room, plates full of food lined the centre of the table, thin pillar candles tucked between the dark green foliage.

Bottles clinked in your hands and you placed them in front of Amren, the only place at the table without a plate. “I may have drained a few beasts during the coldest months,” you said, popping the cork from a bottle and pouring the red liquid into the glass in front of her.

Amren downed the glass of blood, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. A smile playing on her lips as she poured another. “Always full of surprises little wolf,” she said, raising her full glass at you. You wondered if she could tell which beasts you’d drained, but you’d leave that for another day. Letting her savour the gift.

She gifted you a weather warner, a metal device that predicted rain. You’d hated the rain ever since you’d arrived in Velaris and always got caught without shelter. Snow you could handle, rain you loathed it. How it drenched your clothes and left muddy splashes in its wake. Now you couldn’t be caught in it thanks to Amren.

The dinner rolled on, questions about your three months away and what everyone else had been up to. Your stomach and jaw ached from laughing so much. You all returned to the living room, more subdued than earlier. The wine coaxing Amren into a slumber on the window seat, Mor placing a fluffy blanket over her.

You hadn’t spent much time with Mor, she’d been busy with the hewn city before you left for winter. So you still didn’t know enough about her to get her a meaningful gift. That’s what you’d learnt, to get presents that the person would like or something they’d mentioned, to know you listened to them.

You’d settled with red lipstick that didn’t budge in the cold, only removed with cleaning balm that came with it. A winter court speciality that kept people lips hydrated in the biting cold, but added a bit of style. It matched the red encrusted gown she worn tonight, she dabbed it onto her full lips thanking you for the gift.

She handed you a flask, magicked to keep liquids warm. A welcome addiction to the supplies you needed for the coldest months.

Feyre hovered nearby, she’d asked you to wait till last to exchange gifts. She could hardly contain her smile as she finally got to her turn. You’d gifted her a wooden box, palette inside that kept paint cold and stopped them drying out, a few paints that were darkest colours which were only made in winter.

“Thank you, I can’t wait to test them out,” Feyre said, looking at the paint tubes and opening them to see the depths of colours. She set the it down, holding a finger for you to wait.

When Feyre entered the room again, you gasped. Snuggled in her arms was a scruffy furred white fox. It squirmed on her arms and leapt to the ground. Is darted towards you, snaking in and out of your legs.

“Flick,” you said, scooping your messenger in your arms. “But how did you? My general refused to let me take him.” You’d had flick since you were a child, his name given to him because his tail was forever flicking. His white fur wasn’t pure, a sandy hue to the shaggy coat.

The winter court had many white foxes they used to send messages, fast little things that blended into the snow. Flick licked your chin, teeth nipping gently at the braid over your shoulder.

“I asked Kallias.” Feyre stroked Flick, tears stinging your eyes as you buried your face into his fur.

“Thank you, this means so much,” your voice a hoarse whisper. You knew your general would have something to say to you when you returned, but you didn’t care. You’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

The evening blurred, your head heavy as you swayed in Cassian’s arms. You sank into the soft mattress, warm hands took off your shoes and pulled the sheets over you. You blinked, the bed dipping beside you and Cassian coming into view. His hand cupped your cheek and you held onto his wrist, resting the side of your face on his calloused palm.

“Your present,” you mumbled, sleep lacing your voice. The house dropped an ancient tome on the bed, his love for war and history running deep, but he’d never read texts on the winter mountains. Well till now, frost clung to the hardcover, you’d ventured far into the forest and begged the keeper of the forest for the old tome. Exchanging the scales of naga for it.

Thanks for the request :) I didn't realise how long this was but wanted to include all of the inner circle. Hope you liked it - Yiiyii

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fantasyandshit · 1 year ago

Text

Something is wrong

type: Oneshot

Pairing:Azriel x reader

Masterlist

"where are you going?"

"Oh, Az!" Yn turns as her wings unfurl- "Im headed to Windhaven to check on things up there for Rhys- When did you get back? I thought you were still in Day?" "I-I returned last night. I'm sorry, you said your going to WindHaven?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because Rhysand asked me to? What's the issue with that?"

The shadowsinger notes the females face contorting into one of confusion, "Well it's just- Myself, Cassian, or Rhys are the ones that usually go up?"

Now the confusion morphs to anger and annoyance as she speaks, "Oh? Am I not capable shadowsinger?"

"No No! It's just that they are dangerous as they are- and well, your a female far more powerful than any of them-who knows what they may try to do to you?" The words fly out of Azriels mouth in a blur.

"Your right, i am more powerful than them-If I must I will fight them-inf act I'll do it in front of the whole of the camp as a lesson." the Illyrian females eight, bright green, siphons flare like green flames licking within the small gem shapes.

"Just-just be careful ok?" Azriel knew he couldn't fight the female-couldn't convince her to stay, and he knew she was very capable, powerful, but deep down he couldn't' help the gut feeling that something was going to go wrong- that she would be hurt.

"Always shadowsinger." She smirked as she dropped backwards off the balcony railing, falling for a moment before her wings flared open and she soared for the mountains- always with the dramatic exit.

-----

As I make my way through the frigid night to the cabin I am staying in I hear footsteps- ten separate sets of them trailing through the snow-following me. I whirl around only to be caught off guard by a punch to the face, I stagger back- quickly kicking my attacker in his kidney. The male lets out a groan, kneeling to the floor before before i kick him again, this time in the face. As I use my power, effectively killing the brute; another male comes up from behind, pulling my head and exposing my neck, just before I'm able to fling him off I feel a needle in the side of my neck. Shit.

I feel my body start to go numb, my knees giving out as the male behind me catches me. I barely get another glimpse before my eyes are rolling back as I go limp in his arms.

-----

"I'm telling you Rhys- its been five days, you said she'd be back in three. There has been no warning of a longer stay and no-"

"Azriel! Stop it! Yn is capable- you know that better than anyone, she will be fine!" A sigh, "If she doesn't come back within two days-we will go after her. ok?"

Knowing he wouldn't win this, Azriel bows his head before stalking out.

-----

The next day the doors to Rhysand's office were thrown open, the Shadowsinger storming in. He knew something was off with yn and he was not going to sit around any longer. He just, he just knew she wasn't ok and the fact no one seemed to care made him blind with rage. He didn't understand this feeling, he'd never been nearly this mad at his family before but he couldn't shake the fire burning underneath his skin.

"Im leaving and you're either coming with me or staying out of my way." Azriel didn't need ti explain, everyone in the room knew what he was talking about- well more like seething like a wild animal, his hair tousled as he glared ahead.

The high lord lets out an exasperated sight, "Az- we talked about this, if sh-"

"No! No! What of it were Mor? What if it where Feyre, or Nesta?"

"That's different-"

"No its fucking. Not. Now are you coming with me or no?"

As he turns to leave the room, Cassian moves to him,p placing a hand on his shoulder as he tries to reason, "Maybe-"

"Let. Me. Go."

"Az-"

"Let him go Cass."

The Illyrian let's his brother go sighing as he does so.

-----

Azriels shadows are in a frenzy as he lands in the camp- hurt- experiments-torture-ten-hurt-help-help!- Help her! Now! Faster!

The male sprints, running faster than he ever has as his shadowsa lead him deep into the woods where one lone cabin stands.

'basement- ten males-she's hurt-save her'

As the door is pushed open a man jumps for Azriel, he waist no time, sending his shadows down the mans eyes and strangles him as he slumps to the floor, the next males ends with a dagger in his head, the one after with a slit throat, choking and spluttering on his own blood, the fifth with shadows circling his body, pooling into the open whiles they find. The next is thrown from the house with Azriel's power, the next just obliterated, the eighth and ninth are thrown into each other, going on conscious before being stabbed in the throat. The final tenth one stands at the top of the stairs, thrown down and ending with a sickening crunch.

Azriel stomps down the stairs, being met with a sight that nearly makes him throw up as he rushes to the female. Yn lays naked and strapped to a cold metal table, her body covered in blood, vomit, piss, and puss that oozes from concerning wounds, her body is also littered in bruises, slices, and what look to be needle injection sights. And her wings, gods her wings were shredded, hooks tethering them to the ground. As he moves to her he notices a journal lying open...

they were using her as a fucking experiment- they had pushed who know what into her body, torturing her slowly.

"Az?" Her usual strong, sassy voice replaced with a weak whimper.

"Hey, hey I'm here." He brushes her hair behind her ear softly, his face softening immediately as he stares at her. she looks tired, so tired.

"You came for me?"

"Yes, I always will. Ok sweet girl, I need to release your wings ok? It's going to hurt."

She says nothing as she stares forward, Azriel grabbing the first hook and ripping it out- a small cry leaves her lips but she's out of energy, screaming far to much these past few days. Azriel moves to the next wing, pulling the second hook out, her wings drooping as he moves to unbind her. He slowly pulls her up and into his arms, cringing at the whimpers and squeaks she releases. "Oh sweetheart. I am so so sorry."

Azriel knows he can't transport her in this condition so he quickly calls for Rhys.

'Rhysand!' his panicked voice rings down to the other males mind

'Azriel? What is it?'

'It's Yn, bring Madja-quick.'

'I'm on my way now.'

"Az?"

"Yes?"

"Come here."

The shadowsinger leans his head down- surprised as Yn surges forward ever so slightly, pressing their lips together, molding them to each other like they were made for each other. Before any more can happen, Feyre, Rhysand, Cassian, and Madja appear in the room.

-----

Azriel watches as Yn's chest rises and falls slowly. She'd been out nearly three days now and Azriel couldn't leave her side, nor could he stand to look his family in the eye. They were part of the reason they were in this position right now, why Yn still lay on her bed, deep in sleep.

-----

The next morning Azriel is woken up by a soft voice. "Az?"

"Yn. hey, your awake." The male rushes to her side as he helps her sit up slowly. As the two make eye contact Azriel feels it, and judging by the gasp she lets out, Yn does too."

"Mate?" They speak at the same time. Smiling like two kids in a candy shop as they simply look into each others eyes for a moment. Unable to help himself, Azriel leans in, kissing he mate softly.

-------

Sooooo, hey guys! I felt like writing a feral Az but also wanted some sweetness sooooo here you go. Some of this did get inspired by the lovely work of @afandomangel but it was original work of mine, I've wanted to write feral Az for a while now. I want to leave this saying- Guys PLEASE send in requests, part of the reason I haven't been posting as much is because I a having serious writers block and my inbox has been open-and empty- for...well since In opened it and I needdddddd you guys to send in requests, I write everything and I write for a lotttttttt of fandoms, not just acotar so please please send in requests. Anywt\ay love you guys and I hope you enjoyed

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #feyre archeron #feyre x reader #elain x reader #elain archeron #nesta archeron #nesta x reader #cassian x reader #cassian #rhysand x reader #rhysand #x reader #fem reader #x you #illyrian #illyrian reader

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acotar-girly · 9 months ago

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Night’s sister- Part 1

Summary: You’re Rhysand’s little sister, who escaped the spring court when your mother and older sister were murdered. The only living Princess of the Night Court. Rhys is High Lord, and your close sibling relationship is something everyone, even enemies (unfortunately) are aware of. You live with Rhysand. You haven’t met Cassian and Azriel yet, as Rhys is trying to keep you safe and protected. You’ve only ever heard stories of them, and you’ve never worked up the nerve to want to meet them. You’ve been kidnapped, by Rhys’ enemies, while he’s fighting in a war and he left you at home.

TW: kidnapping, graphic SA, graphic violence, gore, describing torture, (but also somehow a lot of fluff later on???)

-please tell me if i’ve missed any triggers and i’ll add them.

My eyes flutter open and I let out a low groan of pain. I force myself to focus on my surrounding through sheer willpower. My mind is cloudy, fogged by the pain that aches, burns, and throbs my body. I’m dimly aware of my lack of clothing, being stripped bare to just undergarments. My wrists are manacled by heavy black chains to opposite walls and I hang in the middle, my knees almost brushing the ground. I instinctively reach for my power, but it’s dampened and held down by another force. Scraps are all i have left of my once overwhelming power. It’s pressed down, either by a powerful fae or by a drug such as faebane.

A cool hand tilts my chin upwards and I let out a weak snarl, trying to tilt my head away in a pitiful attempt to get away. The person chuckles, as though finding my attempt to scare him away funny. The male in front of me presses a soft kiss to my lips, one hand keep my chin in place and the other stroking my hair. I shudder, but I’m too weak to pull away. He leans away finally, still stroking my hair, but his other hand moves to my cheek and caresses the unbroken skin there. I realise, that although I’ve been tortured to the point of unconsciousness, not one cut or bruise or burn scars my face. The male must see the realisation, or read my mind, because he laughs softly, amused.

“We couldn’t mark such a pretty little face like that” he cooes, enjoying toying around with me, seeing the fear creeping into my face, my anger and defiance dissolving.

Bella?

My mind drifts to the familiar voice that passes through the rubble of my mental shields, and the male notices my attention shift. He invades my mind once again, eyes narrowing, passing through the shields I desperately try to put up with what little power I still have.

Bella please

The voice pleads. Not the male in front of me. Another voice. Pinewood and citrus. The ocean. Home. I wonder dimly, how long the voice has been calling out for me, without a response. I wonder how long he’s been calling out to my unconscious mind, going crazy with worry. All at once, the memories rush down. The battle. Rhys. The kidnapping. The torture.

Rhys?

I manage to send back, the effort making my body sag. My voice, even in my mind, is exhausted and laced in pain. I hear the male laugh in my mind, the violation making me shudder. It’s like he’s mocking my poor attempt. Like he knows i won’t be able to tell rhys anything important before he interrupts me and my brother

Bella.

Rhys says into my mind, voice relieved.

Where are you? Are you okay?

He questions instantly, his tone back to one of worry.

I’m scared rhys

i manage to whisper back, my voice sounding childish. Broken and scared.

Bella, where are you?

He asks urgently

I’m-

the male steps in, interrupting the conversation in my own mind, cutting me off.

She’s more than okay, High Lord

He croons in my mind, to Rhys.

who the fuck are you?

Rhys snarls, his anger invading my senses, even with what’s probably all of Prythian between us.

and why are you in my sister’s mind?

The male smiles at me as though he expected this, lazy and amused, his teeth glinting, as he sees the pure undiluted terror on my face and the trembling of my body under his touch. My eyes are wide and afraid, and pleading. In response to rhys’ question, the daemati in front of me sends Rhys a mental image of me, chained between two walls, stripped bare to undergarments that aren’t mine. My wings bleed and droop, resting against the cold marble floor, stained in my blood, my body littered with cuts and bruises and burns. He caresses my cheek, the soft gesture making me sick, and I’m sure he’s still showing Rhys my state, because he tilts my head upwards sharply, my red rimmed, crying and afraid eyes meeting his own. Into his mind. Where I’m sure Rhys is looking down at me through the male’s eyes.

Let’s talk, High Lord.

The daemati says, grinning cruelly.

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dee-writes-angst · 1 year ago

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PREVERNAL (Extra)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY it's been two years, you want sex with your mate, but it seems Azriel is hesitant. Good thing bestie LuLu is here to help ;)

CONTENT WARNINGS sex! (there will be a note before if you wish to skip), MINORS, DO NOT INTERACT, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap, y'all), Lucien being a nosy horndog (?)

AUTHORS NOTE c'mon, you didn't think I was just going to leave you without a smut scene! What do you make me for, a monster?!

As the world awakens from its winter slumber, a symphony of sensations fills the prevernal air, weaving a tapestry of seduction that tantalizes the senses and stirs the soul. The earth, still moist from the thawing frost, exhales a heady fragrance of rebirth, a delicate mingling of damp soil and budding life that beckons with whispered promises of renewal. Each step upon the awakening land is a dance with temptation, as the soft, yielding earth caresses the feet with a sensuous touch that ignites a primal longing deep within.

Above, the sun emerges from its hibernation, casting its golden rays upon the landscape like a lover's embrace. Its warmth, once forgotten, now envelopes the skin in a tender caress, coaxing the slumbering earth to awaken from its wintry dreams. And awaken it does, with a flourish of color and life that ignites the senses with an intoxicating fervor. Delicate blossoms unfurl their petals in a symphony of hues, their fragrant perfumes mingling with the crispness of the air in a sensual ballet of scent.

Everywhere, the world pulses with the rhythm of desire, from the gentle rustle of awakening leaves to the melodious trill of amorous birdsong. Each breeze carries with it a whisper of passion, stirring dormant desires and kindling flames of longing that smolder just beneath the surface. In the prelude to spring, every sensation is heightened, every moment pregnant with possibility, as the allure of new beginnings hangs heavy in the air like a promise waiting to be fulfilled.

In this season of rebirth, nature herself becomes the ultimate seductress, her beauty a bewitching spell that enraptures all who dare to surrender to her charms. And so, beneath the canopy of prevernal skies, amidst the vibrant tapestry of blossoms and verdant greenery, the world becomes a playground of desire, where every touch, every scent, every sight ignites the flames of passion and invites the soul to embrace the sensual delights of the season.

It had been a little over two years since I lost my wings to Lyris, since I found out Azriel is my mate, and the last two years have been good. Sure, there have been moments where I fell back into that dark space, but Azriel was always there, ready to pull me back into the light when I was done reflecting.

During that time, our lives have undergone significant changes. Azriel and I were gifted a townhouse by Feyre and Rhys, providing us with our own space to build a life together. Additionally, my friendship with Lucien had deepened. Though we had only met briefly before the incident with my wings, our connection had grown, and now he joined me every weekend for a night out in the Night Court.

Despite the progress in our lives, there remained an unspoken tension between Azriel and me. While he was attentive and affectionate, there was a notable absence of intimacy. Though he'd shower with me, share kisses, and embrace me, our relationship had not progressed beyond that point. I'd attempted to initiate intimacy, but each time Azriel seemed to retreat, offering excuses that left me feeling frustrated and unfulfilled.

As Lucien and I entered the bustling tavern, the familiar sights and sounds of Velaris washed over me, momentarily distracting me from my tangled thoughts. The scent of ale and roasted meat filled the air, mingling with the sound of laughter and chatter that filled every corner of the room.

I glanced around, searching for a quiet corner where we could sit and talk. The tavern was packed with patrons, each one lost in their own conversations and revelries.

Lucien followed my lead, his eyes scanning the room as he sought out the perfect spot. "How about over there?" he suggested, nodding towards a cozy corner booth bathed in soft candlelight.

I nodded in agreement, grateful for his intuition. Together, we made our way over to the booth and settled in, the comfortable silence between us speaking volumes.

"So," Lucien began, breaking the silence with a curious glint in his eye, "what's been on your mind lately, songbird?"

I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to broach the subject. But then, with a deep breath, I decided to lay it all out on the table. "Azriel," I confessed, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Lucien's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze locking with mine in a silent exchange of understanding. He knew exactly what I was talking about, without me having to say another word.

"He's been… distant," I continued, my voice tinged with frustration. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong, Lucien. I've tried everything I can think of, but he always pulls away."

Lucien's expression softened, his hand reaching out to cover mine in a comforting gesture. "I'm sure it's not you," he reassured me, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Azriel's been through a lot, as have you. Maybe he just needs some more time."

I nodded, taking solace in his words. "I hope you're right," I replied, trying to keep the doubt from creeping into my voice. But deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, that there was a distance between Azriel and me that I couldn't bridge no matter how hard I tried. Then, an idea sparked in my mind, and I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "What if I tried… something different?" I suggested, a mischievous glint in my eye.

He raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "Different how?" he asked, leaning in even closer to hear my suggestion. "Songbird, are you suggesting I help you to seduce your mate?” Lucien chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eye to match the slight blush across his cheeks.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking for my wonderful Lord of Foxes” I smirked, listening to his joyous laugh dancing through the tavern like silk in the wind. It made me smile, to hear him distracted from his own mate related sorrows.

“Trying to butter me up, are we?” He grinned, shaking his head at my answering snicker. “What if you were to seduce him?" Lucien suggested, his tone playful yet suggestive. "Show him just how much you desire him, and maybe he won't be able to resist."

I considered the suggestion, a thrill of excitement coursing through me at the thought of finally crossing that line with Azriel. "How would I do that?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Lucien grinned, clearly enjoying our clandestine conversation. "You could start by wearing something… provocative," he suggested, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Show him what he's been missing out on."

I blushed at the suggestion, the idea of dressing up to seduce Azriel both thrilling and nerve-wracking. "That could work," I admitted, feeling a surge of determination building within me.

Lucien nodded in approval. "And what about… teasing him?" he suggested, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Give him little hints of what's to come, and let his imagination do the rest."

I swallowed hard at the suggestion, the thought of teasing Azriel sending a shiver of anticipation down my spine. "That could definitely get his attention," I agreed, my mind already racing with possibilities, but as we continued to brainstorm, I couldn't shake the feeling of nervous excitement building within me. Maybe this was exactly what Azriel and I needed to finally take that next step, to bridge the gap that had been growing between us.

“But,” Lucien interjected, raising a finger and pointing it at me, “you could also try talking to him.” I raised a brow at this, and he sighed, his shoulders slumping as if a physical reminder of the weight of his sorrows, “I know that it’s not working with Elain, but you an-”

“Luce,” I say softly, interrupting him with a soothing hand on his warm arm, “I would never use that against you, not even in a stupid disagreement, c’mon.” I watch as his cheeks redden, his head falling, long, golden-red hair hiding his expression.

Tonight was going to be a late night.

It had been weeks, and this evening had been meticulously planned, every detail carefully orchestrated in my attempt to seduce Azriel. I had adorned myself in my most alluring attire, a dress that clung to every curve, and had spent hours perfecting my makeup and hair.

As Azriel stepped through the door of our townhouse, I greeted him with a coy smile, my heart pounding with nervous anticipation. Tonight was the night I would finally make my move, the night I would show him just how much I desired him.

"Hey, Az," I purred, sauntering over to him with what I hoped was a seductive sway in my hips. "Did you have a good day?"

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he took in my appearance. "It was fine," he replied, his voice low and husky. "What about you?"

I smiled, feeling a surge of confidence at his response. "Oh, you know," I said, my voice laced with playful flirtation. "Just counting down the minutes until you got home."

But as I began to put my plan into action, things quickly took an unexpected turn. My attempts at seduction came off as clumsy and awkward, each gesture more embarrassing than the last.

I tried to flirt, to tease him with suggestive remarks, but my words came out jumbled and incoherent. "You must be tired," I blurted out, cringing at my own lack of finesse. "Maybe I could help you relax?"

Azriel watched me with a bemused expression, clearly unsure of how to respond to my awkward advances. "Um, sure," he said, his tone cautious as he took a step back, clearly sensing my nervous energy.

I attempted to initiate physical contact, to seduce him with a touch, but my hands fumbled clumsily and fell short of their mark. I reached out to brush a lock of hair from his face, but ended up poking him in the eye instead.

"Ow!" Azriel exclaimed, blinking rapidly as he recoiled from my touch. "Are you okay?"

I winced, mortified by my own clumsiness. "I'm so sorry," I stammered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to…"

But it wasn't until I saw the disappointment in Azriel's eyes that the full weight of my humiliation hit me. I had wanted so desperately to seduce him, to show him just how much he meant to me, but instead, I had only succeeded in making a fool of myself.

Tears welled up in my eyes, hot and stinging, as I turned away from him, unable to bear the thought of him seeing me in such a vulnerable state. I had wanted tonight to be perfect, but instead, it had been a disaster of epic proportions.

"Hey," Azriel's voice was gentle, his hand reaching out to touch my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "Are you okay?"

I shook my head, unable to speak past the lump forming in my throat. How could I explain to him the depths of my humiliation, the sheer magnitude of my disappointment? Azriel wasn't one to give up easily. With infinite patience, he wrapped me in his arms, holding me close as I sobbed against his chest.

After I took a few moments to collect myself while Azriel held me close, his warmth enveloping me, I was able to take a deep breath and steady my emotions before speaking up. "I'm sorry," I whispered, my voice barely audible against the fabric of his shirt. "I just wanted tonight to be special."

Azriel's arms tightened around me, his touch a comforting anchor amidst the storm of my emotions. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing. "We can try again another time."

I sniffled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over me at his understanding. "But why?" I blurted out, the question tumbling from my lips before I could stop it. "Why won't you… why won't you make love to me?"

Azriel pulled back slightly, his expression unreadable as he looked down at me. "It's not that I don't want to," he spluttered, “believe me, honey, I’ve wanted nothing more these last couple years,” he encouraged with a low growl, his eyes darkening for a moment. “But,” Azriel continued, his voice tinged with sadness. "It's just… complicated."

My heart sank at his words, a knot of worry forming in the pit of my stomach. "Complicated how?" I pressed, my voice trembling with uncertainty.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. "I don't want you to feel… obligated," he admitted, his gaze filled with concern. "After everything you've been through, I don't want you to feel like you have to… do this with me."

I blinked in surprise at his confession, the weight of his words sinking in. "But I want to," I insisted, my voice firm with determination. "I want to be with you, Az. I want this."

Azriel's expression softened at my words, his eyes meeting mine in a silent exchange of understanding. "I know," he said, his voice gentle and reassuring. "But I don't want you to rush into anything because you feel like you have to."

Tears welled up in my eyes at his concern, the depth of his love washing over me like a wave. "I'm not rushing," I whispered, my voice barely more than a breath. "I'm ready."

Azriel's gaze softened at my words, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Okay," he said, his voice filled with quiet resolve. "Okay."

The weight of Azriel's concern lingered in the air between us, casting a shadow over our tender moment. I bit my lip, gathering my courage before speaking again. "Az," I began, my voice barely above a whisper, "can we try tonight?"

His brows furrowed in concern, his gaze searching mine as if trying to gauge my sincerity. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone gentle yet cautious.

I nodded, a determined glint in my eyes. "Yes," I replied, my voice stronger this time. "I want this, Az. I want to be with you."

Azriel studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable as he weighed my words. Finally, he let out a soft sigh, his shoulders relaxing as if he had come to a decision. "Okay," he said, his voice tinged with a mix of uncertainty and resolve. "But only if you're absolutely sure."

I nodded, a sense of gratitude swelling within me at his understanding. "I am," I assured him, my voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in my stomach. "I trust you, Az. I always have."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his eyes softening with warmth and affection. "I love you," he said, his voice a gentle caress that soothed the ache in my heart.

"I love you too," I whispered, feeling a sense of peace settle over me as I nestled into his embrace.

The air between us crackled with tension as we made our way to our bedroom, our footsteps echoing in the quiet of the townhouse. Despite our earlier conversation, a nervous energy hung heavy in the air, making each moment feel strained and uncertain.

I stole a glance at Azriel out of the corner of my eye, finding him watching me with a mixture of apprehension and longing. My heart skipped a beat at the sight, the weight of his gaze sending a shiver down my spine.

As we reached the door to our bedroom, I paused, my hand hovering uncertainly over the handle. "Are you sure about this?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Azriel nodded, his expression a mix of determination and vulnerability. "Yes," he replied, his voice steady despite the nerves that flickered in his eyes. "I want to be with you, more than anything, as long as you're ready."

I swallowed hard, feeling a surge of emotion welling up inside me, not immune to the irony of the question. With a shaky breath, I pushed open the door, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows across the room. We stood there for a moment, neither of us moving, as if unsure of what to do next. But then, with a shared glance, we moved as one, closing the distance between us with hesitant steps.

I reached out to touch him, my fingers trembling as they brushed against his cheek. "I love you," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the pounding of my heart.

Azriel's eyes softened at my words, his hand coming up to cradle my face in a gentle caress. "I love you too," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper that sent a shiver down my spine.

And then, with a shared smile, we began to undress, each movement slow and deliberate as we shed the layers that separated us. It was awkward at first, our hands fumbling and uncertain as we navigated the unfamiliar terrain of each other's bodies.

But as we moved together, our laughter mingling with the soft sounds of the night, something shifted between us. The tension that had once hung heavy in the air began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of ease and familiarity that washed over us like a warm embrace.

(MDNI SMUT AFTER THE CUT)

Azriel's touch is a symphony of sensations, each brush of his fingertips sending sparks of desire dancing along my skin. He starts with feather-light caresses, tracing invisible patterns across the curve of my jaw, down the length of my neck, and along the swell of my collarbones. Each touch is a promise of things to come, a tantalizing tease that leaves me yearning for more.

His lips follow the path his fingers have traced, pressing soft, lingering kisses against my skin. He explores every inch of me with a reverence that takes my breath away, his mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake. I gasp as his lips find the hollow of my throat, his tongue tracing delicate circles against my pulse point.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against my skin, his voice low and husky with desire. I shiver at his words, a rush of heat pooling between my thighs.

As he continues to explore, his hands roam freely over my body, mapping every curve and contour with a hunger that mirrors my own. He cups the weight of my breasts in his palms, his thumbs brushing lightly over my hardened nipples, sending jolts of pleasure shooting through me.

"Azriel," I whisper, my voice trembling with longing as I arch into his touch, a low moan escaping my lips as he takes one swollen nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling with a fervor that leaves me dizzy with desire. His other hand travels lower, skimming across the sensitive skin of my abdomen before dipping between my thighs.

I gasp as his fingers find the heat between my legs, teasing me with maddening slowness. He circles my clit with his thumb, applying just enough pressure to make me squirm.

"You drive me wild," he confesses, his breath hot against my skin as he slides a single finger inside me, testing my readiness. I'm already slick with desire, my body eager for more of him. I rock my hips against his hand, wordlessly urging him to continue. With a low growl of approval, Azriel adds a second finger, stretching me in the most exquisite way possible.

I moan his name, my fingers tangling in his dark locks as I pull him closer, desperate for more of his touch. "I want you," I breathe, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“All good things come to those who wait,” he smirks against my breast, his tongue swiping at my hardened nipple.

“Please,” I whine, my hips meeting his gentle thrusts, the soft squelching noises between my thighs steadily growing louder and more frequent. He complies eagerly, increasing the pace and pressure of his ministrations until I'm teetering on the edge of oblivion, every nerve in my body singing with pleasure.

And just when I think I can't take any more, he withdraws his fingers, leaving me gasping and aching for release. With a wicked smile, he leans up to capture my lips in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with mine in a dance as old as time.

I lose myself in the kiss, the world narrowing down to the feel of his lips against mine, the taste of him on my tongue. We part with fierce huffs of breaths as he reaches down to ready himself, using the slick he collected between my thighs to lather his thick length. I whimper at the sight of it, his long, intimidating length, prettily flushed and already dripping precum.

Azriel shushes me softly as he lines himself up, slowly sliding himself against my clit for a moment before notching at my entrance. With a deep breath, he slowly starts to slide in.

I let out a long gasp, my hands flying to his shoulders as he hovers above me, his face pinched so beautifully in both pleasure and concentration.

“Gods,” he whimpers as his thighs meet mine, my heart flipping at the sound and before soon Azriel and I meld together in a dance of desire, our bodies moving in perfect synchronization. The heat between us ignites, consuming us in a blaze of passion as we lose ourselves in the ecstasy of our union.

Azriel's movements are primal and unrestrained, each thrust driving me closer to the edge of oblivion. I cling to him, my nails digging into his skin as I meet him thrust for thrust, our bodies colliding with a force that borders on violence.

Slick with sweat, our bodies slide against each other, creating a symphony of sounds that fills the room. The scent of our arousal hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the heady aroma of candles burning low.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice a rough whisper against my ear. "Mine to claim."

I moan in response, the sound a guttural cry of need as pleasure courses through my veins. "Yes," I gasp, my voice barely more than a desperate plea.

The intensity of our connection is overwhelming, a tidal wave of desire crashing over us with each passing moment. I lose myself in the sensation, the world narrowing down to the feel of Azriel's skin against mine, the sound of his ragged breaths mingling with my own.

He leans down to capture my lips in a savage kiss, his tongue plundering my mouth with a hunger that borders on feral. I bite back, matching his intensity with a ferocity of my own as we devour each other with a raw, primal need.

Every touch, every kiss, every thrust is a testament to our shared desire, a silent declaration of the love that binds us together. We are lost in each other, consumed by the fire that burns between us, unable to tell where one ends and the other begins.

As the pleasure mounts, I feel myself teetering on the edge of oblivion, my entire being consumed by the overwhelming tide of sensation. Azriel senses my impending release and adjusts his rhythm, driving me over the edge with a final, desperate thrust.

I scream his name as ecstasy washes over me in a blinding burst of light, my body convulsing with pleasure as I tumble into the abyss of sensation. "Azriel!" I cry out, my voice a plea for more as I surrender to the depths of bliss.

He growls in response, panting in my ear, “let me put a baby in you, my mate. Let me-” he lets out a grunt as his movements become more erratic, “let me show the world how good i give it to you, to this pretty little pussy.”

I whimper at the words, my sex addled mind going blank for a moment as he suspends my pleasure, “yes, please, Az, put a baby in me,” I moan loudly, gently scratching the delicate membrane of his right wing.

Azriel lets out a roar of pleasure as he lets himself go, shoving in as far as he can and staying there as he fills me with his warm seed. “I love you,” he pants softly in my ear, his entire body laying sticky and limp on top of mine.

“I love you too,” I breathe, my hands moving to rake through his soft curls.

As the waves of pleasure slowly subside, Azriel turns us to hold me close, his touch gentle yet possessive. There's an unspoken understanding between us, a connection that goes deeper, a thread that sparkles in pure gold with contentment and satisfaction. His arms around me feel like home, like a sanctuary where I can be truly myself.

His whispered words of love and reassurance wash over me like a soothing balm, each syllable a tender caress against my skin. He speaks of our bond, of the love that binds us together, and I listen, my heart swelling with gratitude for the man who has become my everything.

I nestle against him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest beneath my cheek. It's a comforting rhythm, a reminder that I am safe in his embrace, cocooned in the warmth of our shared intimacy.

"Stay," he murmurs softly, his breath warm against my skin. "I know you have to get cleaned up… but, just a little longer."

I smile, my heart swelling with affection for this man who has become so much more than just a lover. "Of course," I reply, my voice a gentle murmur in the darkness.

Azriel presses a tender kiss to my forehead, his touch a gentle caress along the curve of my spine. With each stroke of his fingers, I feel the tension leaving my body, replaced by a sense of calm and contentment.

We lie together in silence, basking in the afterglow of our lovemaking. There's no need for words; our connection speaks volumes in the quiet of the room. I trace lazy patterns on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips, a comforting reminder of the love that binds us together.

And as sleep finally claims us both, I drift off with the comforting knowledge that in Azriel's arms, I have found a kind of love that transcends mere physical desire, a love that will sustain us through whatever challenges lie ahead.

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lanitalay · 1 year ago

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Before I Say Goodnight Chapter 6

a/n: this is the longest one yet and also my favorite. enjoyyyyy

Word count: 3.5k

warnings: brief mention of a toxic relationship

Other chapters

“When do we leave”

“Tomorrow after breakfast” you were giddy with excitement. “Are we going to the Manor?” You hoped he said yes, wanting to see the exiles. “Yes, I’ll drop you off there for a day while I take care of something further south and then I’ll pick you up on my way back. How does that sound?” “A bit tame but a million times more fun than what I’m doing here” he looks at you, unimpressed. You smile sheepishly.

You’re so excited for a change of pace that you barely register the fact that you’ll be flying with Azriel having grown accustomed to being winnowed. It’s only when he motions for you to get closer to him that your stomach drops. “You better fly steady or I’m walking” you warn as he picks you up. “I’ll do my best, y/n”.

“Welcome back, realm traveler” Jurian greets as he opens the door to the Manor. You smile and throw your bag into his arms. He huffs, expecting a hug instead. “I just couldn’t stay away from your pretty face” finishing the sentence with a wink. He seems to appreciate the compliment, leaving to go put your bag in your room. “I better be on my way, y/n” Azriel pulls you from your scan of the Manor, nothing has changed in the two long weeks you’ve been gone. You frown “so soon? I thought you’d at least have lunch or something” he shakes his head “I need to get there as soon as possible. But listen, stay near the house, don’t go into the woods alone and if you encounter someone you don’t know, lie. About your name, where you’re from, everything. These lands are vulnerable to… intruders as of late. Present company included” he adds the jab at the end in an effort to lighten the suddenly heavy mood. He offered to bring you here to get some fresh air and a change of pace but now that he has to leave you… he doesn’t want to. So close to tumultuous Spring and villages still recovering from war with only Lucien, Jurian and Vassa to offer any protection. He pulls a small dagger that he always keeps concealed in his boot and hands it to you “keep this on you at all times, don’t hesitate to use it”. Your eyes go wide and you grab it but you don’t know how to wield a knife, not to hurt someone “I wouldn’t even know how to use it though”. “When we get back home I’ll give you some lessons but still, keep it with you” you nod, placing it between your sock and your boot. “I’ll be back tomorrow in the afternoon” he stands with his arms stiff at his back, not sure how to say goodbye, he settles for a pat on your shoulder and leaves. His shadows linger a bit and curl around your legs and arms, more affectionate than their master. “He’s so ridiculous, you are perfectly safe here” Jurian blurts as he reappears. “He’s sweet” you defend your friend “sure, sure, come on, I’m going into town. You can take Lucien’s horse” at that you smile. You haven’t been with another human except Jurian and he barely counts as human.

The ride was fun, you managed to follow Jurian with only a few minor hiccups. Your horse stopped to eat and when you tried to get it to move you accidentally spooked it and it tried to throw you off. But it was so much more exciting than the long days in the stuffy library. “What are we going to do?” You ask as you see smoke appear in the distance, you must be nearing the village then “oh I need to get bread, milk, meats, other foods”. We are grocery shopping, yay.

In all fairness it was a fun outing. Jurian got everything he needed and then some. “What’s for dinner” you asked, stomach grumbling rather loudly. “Soup and bread”. That sounds divine. The human lands were still warm enough for light clothing during the day but now that the sun was setting there was a creeping cold weaving its way into the house. You go up to your room and grab a sweater from your bag.

When you walk into the kitchen Jurian tasks you with getting firewood for the hearth. “Doesn’t Lucien usually light it?” it was dark out and you were ashamed to admit that the woods creeped you out at this time. “Does it look like Lucien is here to light it?” He’s so moody. “Fine, I’ll go” that did irk you though. You hadn’t seen Lucien or Vassa since you’d arrived. You make your way to the small shack where the firewood was stored and grabbed as many logs as you could carry, cursing at yourself for managing to get at least three splinters. “You’re new” a low voice echoed and from the fright you dropped the logs, all of them landing on your foot. “Fucking hell” you winced as you tried to put weight on it but it just caused you more pain. A low chuckle caressed your ears and fury burned in your chest. “I heard rumors about a fourth exile but as for first impressions go this has been-” a tall, a very very tall auburn haired male stepped out of the shadows and looked you up and down “underwhelming”. You pick up the wood in a haste and limp back to the house “I don’t know what you’re talking about”. Jurian could take him. I hope. I just need to get close enough to scream. “My brother has always found himself in the company of misfits” he approaches you in three easy steps and takes the wood from your hands “but adding a defenseless human to the mix is a bad move, objectively speaking. You’re a liability” Brother? You grit your teeth, patience was never your strong suit and this male was getting on your very last nerve. “Who the hell are you?” He takes a step back “Apologies, I’m Eris Vanserra” Lucien’s brother. You didn’t know the details, but his brothers had a terrible reputation in the Night Court. You continue your limp into the house and call out “Jurian you have company!” There’s panic in your voice, Azriel’s words from earlier ringing in your ears. Jurian walks out and sags when he sees Eris “Oh, hello Eris. Lucien isn’t here”. Eris places the logs in the hearth and with a flick of the wrist throws a glowing ember towards it. Soon enough the room is engulfed by the warmth of the fire. “I’ll wait then” he walks towards one of the couches and sits. “What happened to you?” Jurian looks at your weary stance “I dropped the wood on my foot”. He rolls his eyes and you hear him muttering to himself as he walks back into the kitchen. You sit on the couch opposite of Eris, taking off your boot to see if anything was broken. You grimace when you take your sock off and see blood coming from the beat up nail on your big toe. Great, a broken toenail. You try to wiggle your toe but the pain won’t let you. And a broken toe. You look at the red haired male and scowl “this is your fault”. He raises his eyebrows “I don’t see how it’s my fault, but that looks unpleasant”. “It feels unpleasant” you sit there, unsure of what to do. It hurts to walk but you have to wash the blood off. With a deep breath you get up and limp towards the stairs “let me help you” he approaches you but you hold out your hand to stop him “you’ve done enough”. He steps away and says “I’ll get you a bucket and some cloth so you can clean that thing down here”. That would be more convenient. “If you insist” and sit back down.

Eris returns with the first aid materials and places them in front of you then sits back down on the opposite couch. You are pleasantly surprised when you place your foot in the water and it is a nice warm temperature. You clean it up as best you can and then wrap it up with the cloth. “I hope you’re not waiting for me to thank you, this is the least you could do” he shrugs “I don’t expect anything”. That’s when you hear footsteps approaching and soon enough Lucien and Vassa are walking through the door. “Y/n!” Vassa exclaims and walks over to you but stops as she spots the bloody water, the wrapped foot and the Autumn heir. “What happened?” Lucien asks and you tell him more or less the events of the night. “And why are you both here?” You answer “visiting” and Eris answers “we have things that need to be discussed”.

Lucien took Eris to the library and shut the door while Vassa kept you company. “It’s so nice to see you again. How are things going with the research?” You fiddle with your sleeves “the priestesses are doing the best they can but it’s… slow”. Vassa nods “I’m sorry, and how is the Night Court treating you?” At that you perk up a bit “it’s great, they’ve really taken me in and made me feel comfortable, Azriel was the one who brought me here because I was going stir crazy in that library” she offers you a smile “I’m glad”. After dinner Lucien offered to carry you to your bed citing that “you’ll probably fall down the stairs and break your whole leg if you do it yourself”. He seemed tense after talking to Eris.

The following morning your foot was feeling a lot better, it was pretty sore but you could walk. No longer limping around. The morning routine was the same, breakfast with the boys and then they went about their business. Azriel was supposed to pick you up later today so you had time to do something. After testing your foot out you decide that you’ll take a walk around the Manor. It was a beautiful day and by nightfall you’d be back in the mountain top castle with zero trees around. You stay on the path, remembering just how badly things ended last time you didn’t, stopping only when you saw a pond. A beautiful pond that beckoned you to swim in it. You hadn’t swam in ages. And the pond looked so inviting and refreshing after walking for who knows how long. You approach it and look around, making sure nobody is nearby. Unbuttoning the shirt you were wearing and kicking off your boots at the same time like there was no time to lose. You had to get in, you had to swim, you had to- “are you trying to kill yourself?” Frozen in place you look toward the voice. What is he doing here? “No, I was just going for a swim” Eris’ eyes look like they are about to fall from his face for a second before he composes himself again “what?” “There are about twenty different creatures that would love to have you for lunch in that pond” you look from him to the beautiful inoffensive pond. “Yeah right” you continue to unbutton your shirt. He grabs your hand, his touch surprisingly soft and warm “yes, I’m right. That pond is about a mile deep and connects to an underground cave system, it is a trap for humans like you and animals looking for water” Trap. Run. Run. Run. Suddenly feeling self conscious of your half undressed state you begin to button up your top and mumble “if you say so”. “I do. Let me walk you back to the house” you raise an eyebrow at him “from what my brother said, you are important to the Night Court for mother knows what reason and I need to maintain my alliance with them. If you get yourself killed they will surely pin it on me and I am not having that, so let’s go. We don’t have to talk” you nod, having zero faith in your survival skills at this point. “How did you find me?” he looks to you from the corner of his eye and says “you have a very peculiar scent, and I was walking towards the Manor when I caught it”. “Thank you” he looks at your foot “glad to see the injury was short lived” and flashes you a teasing grin. “It still hurts, but it is better. Still your fault though” he stops and turns to you “I just saved your life, think we can call it even?” and holds out his hand for you to shake. You think for a moment but quickly come to the conclusion that you simply cannot afford any enemies right now so you reach for his hand. It’s nearly nightfall when Azriel arrives. You quickly say your goodbyes and jump in his arms, ready to get back to the House of Wind. The flight was pleasant and you briefly went over what happened to your foot. You didn’t bring up the pond incident or anything relating to Eris.

When you land at the House of Wind you quickly go to your room, dying to take a bath. You go through a routine that gets more familiar everyday: picking out your pajamas, bathing, brushing your hair, brushing your teeth, picking out an outfit for the following day, looking out the window until your eyes start to feel droopy and then you look at one of the pictures on your phone for no more than fifteen seconds and go to sleep. Everything was flowing perfectly until you went to look at the nightly picture and discovered that your phone won’t turn on. No. No. No. Not today. Not now. You could have sworn you still had ten percent before you left for the human lands, that should have lasted at least three more days. Oh god. The familiar dryness in your throat returned, your chest felt tight and you sensed that the room was caving in on you. You walk backwards, away from your bedside table and into the dresser, knocking over a vase with the force. You catch it before it falls to the ground and then smash it against the wall. Anger and frustration taking over you. Everyday you lose a little bit more of yourself and your world. You can barely hear as your door opens and it takes a few breaths for you to focus on the figure in front of you. “What’s wrong?” Azriel. “It’s dead” it’s off putting how unemotional your tone is. “What’s dead?” He pries softly. “My phone, it’s the only thing with images of my family and friends and world and the battery died” he still doesn’t fully understand but he gently grabs your hand and leads you to the love seat in front of the wall of windows. “I would look at a picture everynight before bed and it would calm me down, give me a good memory to focus on before falling asleep. Now it's gone” he nods “is it broken?” You shake your head “no, but it ran out of battery and from what I’ve seen there is no electricity here so I can’t charge it” once you finish the sentence the tears start to pour and Azriel beckons the house for tissues.

“Tell me about it” You sniffle and furrow your brows “about what?” He offers you another tissue “your life, you’ve told me about your world but I know nothing of your life”. Oh. “Uhm, well it wasn’t much compared to all of this-” “Don’t do that” he’s serious with his tone “do what?” “Diminish yourself like that, you are the most fascinating being I’ve ever encountered and you speak of yourself like you are your own burden” you swallow, not really having a response to that “I don’t know what to say”. “Just tell me about your life, please” you gulp and try to think of where to start “Ok so you already know I had a dog, she was the best. My furriest best friend. I’ve mentioned my parents a lot, I’m their only daughter so I grew up by myself most of the time. I really liked coloring and reading and television. We had to attend school from when we were around five until we graduated at like eighteen. Then you could go to work or continue studying, which is what I did. I went to a college in my hometown and I studied and I met a boy. His name was, or is, Mathew and we were together throughout college. At our graduation party he proposed and I said yes”. This feels ridiculous. Summarizing your brief existence with insignificant events to Azriel. A male who had conquered the darkness that imprisoned him, who had fought in wars, who had rescued people, who had lived and seen so many things you couldn’t even dream of. “My mom was ecstatic about the proposal, she loved Mathew and she wanted me to get married and have kids and start a family. But I was not that happy. I loved Mat, I really did but the thought of getting married to him made me nauseous. The thing is that he could be… cruel when he wanted to be. At first it was only when he was upset but the longer we were together he would say the meanest things to me as if they were facts I had to accept. But he was very romantic at times and everyone in my life loved him. I just didn’t have it in me to stay with him though. So I broke it off against my mother’s wishes. It broke his heart and my mothers more than it broke mine. After that I had started fighting with both of my parents. Suddenly I felt like they were trying to control my every choice and I felt like I was being suffocated. After a really bad fight I booked a flight to Europe and didn’t look back. I needed to get away from them, from Mathew, from the whole town. I needed new faces and so I had been traveling for about six months before… everything. I didn’t speak to them for months. They would ask about me to my friends and after a while I missed them so I would call every once in a while.” By now you’re a pile of tears and tissues “We had started to make amends, you know? They were learning to respect my boundaries and I was excited for the new chapter and then it all went to hell”. You huff “and the worst part is that it’s all my fault, all of this mess is only my fault. When I left the house they had insisted that I don’t go or that I bring someone with me but I wouldn’t listen. I knew they were just saying anything they could to get me to stay. And everyday I’m here I keep picturing them thinking I’m dead. Maybe they’ve grieved for me already, maybe they think I was kidnapped and had a horrible painful death. I have aunts and uncles and cousins and friends too, I wonder what they think happened. I feel so guilty that I’m here with all of you in this magical world and they must be suffering. And it’s ironic too, I had no plans to return home until I stepped through the damn portal, I would’ve kept traveling until I found a place that felt like home and I would’ve stayed far away”.

By now there were no more tears. “I keep thinking about all of it, my upbringing and I’ve landed on the conclusion that I was just an obedient little doll for everyone in my life. Being here has been so draining emotionally but it has been the only time where I can just exist without having to seek approval from my parents or my teachers or my partner” you laugh a bit “Mat would be furious if he found out I’ve been staying in a strangers house and that to travel I have to be carried through the air by a male. But he’s not here. My mom would be so upset too. I wonder… if , or when I get back would I even want to seek them out. I think I would only do it out of sheer obligation”. Your voice was hoarse by now “I miss them though, all of them. I miss their voices and their hugs and the security of feeling at home. I think what scares me the most is forgetting about them, their smells, their laughs. The pictures kept their faces fresh in my mind but now I don’t know how long I’ll be here and…” you swallow “memories fade” you close your mouth, tired of the sound of your voice. Azriel stayed quiet too. He had no idea how to make you feel better. But he figured you would appreciate a cup of soothing tea so he asked the house. “Here” he hands you a cup, just how you like it. He walks to your bed and grabs a throw blanket and drapes it across your shoulders. Then, he sits next to you and pulls you to his side. You relish the warmth radiating from him, the autumn frost having taken over Velaris the last few days, and lean your head on his shoulder. “I don’t know about the pictures but you can tell me all the stories you don’t want to forget and I’ll remember them for you”.

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shadowsingerdraco · 11 months ago

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i’m sorry but i am literally so down bad for azriel and lidia cervos as a pairing (i know it doesn’t make sense but it does to ME!!)

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thehighladywrites · 1 year ago

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— “You were flirting with me?”

pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

summary: You leave Azriel mid-makeout to debrief with your girls

warnings: suggestiveness, the ic being nosey, miscommunication, rhys and cassian knowingly riling az up, the girls get drunk and interrogate reader, the boys get drunk and interrogate az,

amara’s note: this might be the funniest thing i’ve ever written. also sorry for my absence i’m posting more soon💗💗

You’ve had a massive crush on Azriel since the day you met him. He didn’t really notice you and was somewhat nice to you.

Really, you had no idea how you started crushing on him, I mean he paid you no special attention or anything. Maybe it was because he was quiet, handsome, tall, dark, mysterious and only spoke when it was necessary. He also cracked jokes and flashed grins that made your heart flutter. The Mother knows how much it grated your nerves whenever a male tried to hit or talk to you when you clearly had no desire to.

Azriel was the complete opposite and you started worrying that you were the one who grated on his nerves everytime you tried speaking to him.

“Hi Azriel, how are you doing?” you noticed him sitting at the dining table, collected yourself and asked him.

“Good,” he said staring straight into your soul before he realized his answer wasn’t really socially appropriate so asked you, “How are you?”

You just smiled awkwardly and nodded, “I’m fine, thanks.”

And that was how 90% of your conversations went. There was no further comments or extra questions and fuck if it wasn’t awkward. You really wanted to get to know him but you also knew how impossible it was since even the people he had been friends with for half a millennium often considered him a mystery.

Sensing the weird energy in the room, you just swiftly said goodbye, not bothering to stay to hear his goodbye.

He wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to do something, perhaps eat brunch at the restaurant you talked about to Cassian but you were moving before he had the chance. Azriel got extremely annoyed with himself, wondering why the hell he couldn’t ask you out like a normal person.

With determination, he promised himself to try the next time.

—

The girls all knew about your very obvious crush on Azriel and encouraged you to approach him often. They were all mated and happy and you wish it was you, you that had a mate, you who got loved and kissed and hugged and fucked.

But you just had to be obsessed with a man that paid you no attention… Maybe that’s why you wanted him, you viewed him as a challenge, and you loved challenges. Despite wanting his attention and wanting to get to know him, you still had self-respect and didn’t act like a pathetic, desperate, love-sick puppy infront of him.

So you went from always greeting him and smiling at him, trying to initiate conversations to flat out ignoring him. I mean, he never talked to you first so maybe it was time to accept it and just admire him from afar.

—

Azriel began to sense a dullness in his days, a void he couldn't really pinpoint. He realized he hadn’t talked to you, or rather, you hadn't talked to him while he played it cool, trying not to make his beating heart obvious. He noticed the absence of your chatter, questions and lovely voice, realizing that his days grew more mundane and boring without someone asking about his shadows, what his plans were, where he got Truth-Teller.

Azriel observed during dinner that you didn't glance at him once; your attention was solely on the girls or his brothers. You chose to stand up, walk across the dining room and grab the bowl of potatoes beside him instead of asking him for it, and it really irked him. Was he not worthy of passing a simple bowl of fucking potatoes?

He wondered if he had done something to make you avoid talking to him. Despite not being the most talkative person, he paid very close attention to everything you said, even if it seemed unnoticed. Azriel loved your presence and he thought he made his interest in you very clear when he looked at you.

Cassian had said girls like eye contact, still everytime he stared into your soul, you only looked weirded out. Was he doing it wrong? Maybe he wasn’t keeping eye contact long enough.

He had grown extremely fond of your talking and felt empty without it. Finding you alone in the kitchen while you prepared a quick breakfast, Azriel decided it was time to talk. The others had already headed to the training grounds as you had slept in. You were cooking your breakfast, not noticing Azriel.

“Hey.”

You stopped dead in your tracks, frozen in place as you slowly looked up at him. Was he really talking to you? But why?

“Yeah?”

He stayed quiet for a bit, just staring at you in that weird way he always did. Even though he wasn't sure if you liked him back and was afraid of rejection, he still wanted to talk to you.

“How have you been?”

You fight the urge to furrow your brows in confusion. Since when the hell did Azriel care? You were truly baffled and tried to act normal.

“Uh, I’ve been good, you?”

Azriel didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

Usually, you'd spontaneously share every detail of your morning routine, even without him asking. He fucking loved to listen as you talked about your broken hairbrush, the struggle of choosing clothes, the snug fit of your leathers due to gained muscles, and the morning hassle with your hair, prompting you to wake up 20 minutes earlier than usual.

“I’m okay. Have you done anything else today? How is your hairbrush?”

A stupid question really, but Azriel didn’t care. He wanted to see that familiar spark in your eyes as you talked about anything and everything. No way would he ever forgive himself if he ruined something between you.

Your face heated at the fact that he remembered such a minuscule detail about something you said weeks ago.

”Oh, the hairbrush? It broke so I got an enchanted one. Heard it's like a hair miracle, tried it, and it really worked. By the way, your hair looks good. Did you cut it lately?”

Azriel couldn't help but warm up at your rambling. His eyes widened at first, and then he threw his head back and laughed. The deep, rich sound was familiar, yet it never failed to feel like the first time. It was a beautiful and joyful melody that always managed to make you melt on the inside.

"I really missed you," he admitted, feeling your heart pound in your chest, unable to meet his gaze.

"You did?" Azriel's soft smile warmed your heart, the one you'd nearly missed.

"I did. I enjoy being around you and hearing your voice," he confessed.

"Oh, I always thought you didn’t." You couldn't help but feel a mix of surprise and relief.

Stepping closer, Azriel's presence loomed over you, his hand gently lifting your chin.

“Please, don’t misunderstand me. I’m sorry that my silence ever gave you that impression. I thought I was making my interest clear, to be honest,” he murmured, sincerity gleaming in his hazel eyes.

“Okay, I promise I won’t misunderstand again. But why did you think you made yourself clear?” you whispered, feeling a rush of energy as you locked eyes with him.

“Because I made a point of holding prolonged eye contact, thinking it was a clear signal of my interest,” he explained matter-of-factly.

You couldn't help but raise your eyebrows, suppressing a laugh. “So, all those times you were staring at me, you were actually flirting?”

Azriel's expression softened, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. “Well, yes. I thought you knew.”

Suppressing a giggle, you bit your lip and glanced away, not wanting to offend him.

“Ah, not exactly crystal clear, but I understand now. Let’s go for a walk and chat some more,” you suggested, linking your arm through his.

"Sounds perfect. Now, tell me about those new leathers you got," he said, his playful demeanor easing the tension, steering the conversation towards lighter topics.

—

Over the next few months, the bond between you and Azriel deepened. He trusted you with secrets of his life that remained hidden from everyone else. These private conversations became the pillars of your connection, sweet moments for you only.

As the months went by, an unspoken desire for more lingered between you and Azriel. Yet, despite the magnetic pull, something kept you from going the final step.

You've had countless close moments where you almost kissed, where just a tip-toe closer would have sealed the deal. But it never happened. So close, yet so frustratingly far away.

—

Mor's question disrupted the laughter and gossiping of the girls' night, the clinking of wine glasses punctuating the anticipation in the air.

"Remind me again why you and Azriel aren’t a couple?”

Mor's curiosity hung palpably, shifting the mood from gossiping to an interrogation.

“Well, it’s kinda complicated,” you replied, swirling the wine in your glass as you gathered your thoughts.

“We have a great connection, but there's this unspoken understanding between us. It’s like there's a boundary we're afraid to cross.”

Amren raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes observing you closely. “Unspoken understanding? Fancy fucking excuse”

Elain giggled and nodded in agreement.

You chuckled, “Maybe it is, but it’s like we're both tiptoeing around something, afraid to ruin what we have. I mean, do I want to be with him? Yeah, I do. But we might fuck something up and I think we have too good of a relationship to throw it all away.”

Nesta leaned back with a smirk, “Sounds like a case of unresolved sexual tension. Maybe the only cure would be to finally get a good dicking.”

You shot her a look, “You make it sound like a medical condition. Also that has got to be some plot from your smutty books.”

Feyre chimed in, “Maybe it is. Maybe it's time you took a bold step to see what happens. Who knows, it might get you laid.”

The group erupted into laughter, but underneath it, you couldn’t ignore the truth in their words. You liked him, there was no denying it. But did he like you as much?

—

“Is she dating anyone?” Rhysand’s casual question caught Azriel off guard as he browsed his big wine selections with Cassian while the girls where out of the house.

Azriel feigned ignorance. “Who?”

Rhysand and Cassian exchanged a knowing look. “Y/N. Is she dating anyone?”

Something about the question irked Azriel. “Why the hell do you care?”

Rhysand shrugged nonchalantly. “Just curious. I might set her up with someone.”

Azriel's jaw clenched as he fought to mask his frustration. Rhysand's casual tone grated on his nerves, igniting a simmering jealousy he hadn't realized he harbored. Suppressing a sigh, he forced himself to respond evenly,

“She's a grown female, Rhys. She doesn't need you playing matchmaker for her.”

Cassian chuckled, sensing the tension in the air. “Easy, Az. No need to get defensive. I think little Y/N might want a lover of her own, no?”

Azriel's gaze hardened, a flicker of annoyance flashing in his eyes. “I'm not being defensive. I just don't appreciate your implication. And no, she doesn’t need some lover.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, his smirk bordering on mischief. “Interesting. And why is that?”

Before Azriel could formulate a response, you had returned with the girls, your laughter echoing through the room, shifting the focus away from the questions. Azriel sighed, silently cursing Rhysand's annoying questions and the unresolved feelings stirring within him.

—

You turned off the tap and brought the glass of water to your mouth, much needed after the amounts of wine you and the girls had downed. It was honestly a miracle Mor had the energy to winnow you to the house of wind.

As the girls walked to the library for more drinking, you snuck into the kitchen for some water.

You put down the tall glass of water, swallowing the refreshing and cool drink before your body tingle.

Your stomach flipped, blood heating as your skin broke out in goosebumps.

His presence was undeniable.

Azriel was here.

Turning around to leave the sink, you saw him standing there behind the island, looking at you with a soft look that made your stomach flutter and cheeks heat.

"Hi," Azriel greeted softly as you approached him.

"Hi, Az." you replied, feeling a surge of warmth at the sight of him.

"Did you have fun with the girls?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"Yeah, I did," you answered with a smile as you looked down.

Azriel's lips twitched, and he gently lifted your chin with his pointer and thumb. He looked down at your midnight blue dress and raised his brows

"You look absolutely breathtaking."

Your heart beat faster and faster and you were damn sure your friends upstairs could hear how hard it drummed against your chest.

You leaned into his touch, the move careful and intentional. Azriel’s thumb rubbed against your jaw, your eyes glistening in awe at his handsome self.

”Thank you. It’s nothing special, I just like the color.”

Azriel's gaze softened, his eyes lingering on yours with a tenderness that made your knees weak. "It's not just the color," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's you. You’re beautiful."

A blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and you bit your lip nervously, unsure how to respond to such sincerity. But damn, he looked good, and the alcohol in your system made you feel bold enough to speak your mind.

"You look really good," you said, your voice a little breathless. "This shirt suits you."

Stepping closer, you let your hand rest on his sturdy chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips, the tension between you palpable. Slowly, your hand traveled down to the planes of his stomach, each movement filled with anticipation.

As you looked up at him with a mischievous smile, you played with his belt, the air crackling with the electric energy of the moment. His reaction was immediate, his gaze flickering with desire as the tension between you reached its peak.

Azriel clenched his jaw, his hand moving to the back of your neck, pulling you closer until your breaths mingled. The sudden proximity caught you off guard, making you gasp softly.

"Careful," he murmured, his voice low and tinged with desire. "Let's not do things we can't handle."

Your breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down your spine as his proximity sent electric sparks coursing through you. “That sounds like a challenge, Azriel,” you taunted, your voice barely a whisper.

Azriel’s smirk widened, his gaze burning with intensity. “Consider it an invitation.”

You looked at each other, breathing shallowly. Azriel’s intense gaze softened gradually as his eyes traveled further down to your lips. He swallowed, pupils wide with lust.

"May I-"

"Yes."

It was a tender, sweet kiss that caught you off guard in the best way possible. You didn't expect him to be so gentle, but you welcomed it wholeheartedly.

His touch was tender yet reassuring. One hand cradled the back of your head, while the other wrapped around your waist, drawing you closer to him.

You melted into his embrace, savoring every moment of closeness. Your hands found their way to his neck, clinging to him as if you never wanted to let go.

Azriel’s shadows swirled around you lazily, one trailing up your calf and causing you to twitch in surprise. Pulling back, you were met with his clouded, lustful eyes. A mixture of concern and confusion cleared up his hazy gaze.

Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks. Here you were, in the kitchen, making out with Azriel—the very male you'd had a crush on for what felt like an eternity. Panic surged through you, and you took a step back, needing a moment to collect yourself.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm, I’m fine, just give me one second,” you managed to stammer out before turning on your heel and practically stumbling out of the kitchen.

With your heart racing and your mind in a whirlwind, you burst into the library where the girls were lounging, each with a glass of wine in hand. Feyre perked up at your arrival, offering a lazy smile.

“There you are, was wondering where you went,” she mused, clearly already feeling the effects of the alcohol.

Without thought, you blurted out the bombshell news. “Guys, Azriel and I kissed.”

The revelation seemed to sober up the entire room, and suddenly, you were bombarded with questions and reactions from your friends.

“Oh my gods, finally,” Mor exclaimed, practically jumping in her seat

“Is he a good kisser? Was it rough or soft? How did he hold you?” Nesta fired off questions, her curiosity piqued.

”All of you owe me 10 cold coins each. I’m always right,” Feyre slumped back in her seat, sipping the wine as she nodded happily.

“I knew you were up to something while we were in here,” Amren chimed in with a knowing smirk.

You grinned widely as you shared all the details with the girls, who were just as excited as you were. They leaned in, eager to hear every bit of the story.

As the questions swirled around you, Elain’s confused expression brought the conversation to a halt.

“Wait, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be kissing right now?” she asked, her brow furrowing in confusion.

You froze, the weight of her words sinking in. “Well, yes, we were just... making out, and I had to come here. I panicked.”

In response, your friends practically shoved you back outside, Nesta taking the lead. “And don’t you dare come back until your legs are shaking and you have a big smile on your face,” she declared with a mischievous grin.

You took a deep breath, suppressing your smile as you made your way back to the kitchen. Azriel stood there, leaning against the kitchen island with his feet crossed and arms over his chest.

“Are you sure you’re okay? We don’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” he said, his voice laced with concern.

You softened at his words, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around his neck. Pulling him down slightly, you gave him a loud kiss that ended with an audible "mwah."

"I really couldn't be more comfortable. I love you, Az. Like a whole lot," you confessed, your voice filled with sincerity and affection.

Azriel's eyes softened at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle and tender.

"I love you too," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "More than I can put into words."

You felt a rush of warmth flood through you at his admission, your heart fluttering with happiness. Without another word, you leaned in and kissed him again, the feeling of his lips against yours sending shivers down your spine.

Azriel grabbed your hips and slowly backed you into the kitchen island. You yelped when he picked you up and put you on the counter, deeping the kiss.

“Let me take you on a date. I want to do this properly,” he whispers breathlessly between kisses as he tucks your hair behind your ear.

You put your hands on his chest lovingly as you nod, smiling up at him. “I’d love that.”

—

extra scene where rhys and cassian visit azriel in the kitchen:

Azriel stood frozen as you left, his mind going into overdrive, worrying if he had done something wrong. Just as he was about to follow you, Rhys and Cassian popped their heads into the kitchen.

"Yo. Where did she go?" Cassian asked, scanning the empty kitchen.

Azriel furrowed his brows at the pair, or rather their heads.

"What the fuck are you doing here? Go before she comes back," he urged, shooing them away with his hand.

Rhys leaned against the kitchen island, a satisfied grin on his face. "It's about damn time."

Cassian nodded in agreement. "Fuck yeah, took him long enough. But hey, better late than never."

Azriel frowned, feeling the weight of their words. "You guys make it sound like it was some kind of mission."

Rhys chuckled. "In a way, it was. And you finally completed it."

Azriel sighed, "Stop talking like that, you sound fucking ancient.”

Cassian smirked at him, arms over his chest as he said “Y’all kissed?”

Azriel's cheeks flushed slightly at Cassian's question, but he maintained his composure. "Yeah, we did."

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. "And?"

Azriel shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "And it was... nice."

Cassian laughed, clapping Azriel on the back. "Nice? Come on, tongue?”

"Yeah, tongue,” he said trying and failing to suppress a smile.

Rhys raised an eyebrow, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I knew it, you little freak. What else?”

Azriel's expression turned guarded. “Okay, that's all you dickheads need to know. Now, get the fuck out before she comes back.”

Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up, a finger wagging in Azriel’s face. “You better not fuck in my kitchen, I swear to the Mother, I’ll make you both scrub every inch.”

Azriel rolled his eyes and ushered them out, leaning against the kitchen island, waiting for you.

2K notes · View notes

surielstea · 3 months ago

Text

Dancing With Fate - 11

Read part one here.

Pairing: Nyx Archeron x TamlinsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Reader and Nyx meet again, this time exploring Velaris—and much more about their fates are revealed.

Warnings: Minor conflict, protective parents, forbidden love, and some kissing 👀

A.Note: I haven’t posted since last yearrr I am so sorry to all of you, but part two is finally here!! I hope you guys enjoy, it’s a little bit more fast paced but I wanted to speed it along so I could get to the actual good stuff. Make sure you read part one prior to this!

Word count: 7.1k

I was in my bedroom, rereading a book for the sixth time. It was the least favorite on my shelf, worn only from idle desperation rather than love. Father didn't often take me out to buy new books; when he did, it was always after much coaxing. I could go without him, but only with a sentry trailing me. And I hated inconveniencing them with what he called my "silly hobby." So, I waited until my father needed something from the town, and then I'd quietly slip a purchase into our errands.

It had been a week—exactly seven days—since the ball at the Dawn Court. Since I'd talked with a stranger until sunrise. It was strange, missing someone whose name I didn't even know. But I did. I missed the way he teased me, the way I could be me with him—unguarded and, for once, unjudged. My chest ached at the memory, yet I forced my attention back to the book in my lap, pretending not to notice how hollow the words felt tonight.

"I could take you to the bookstore, you know."

I jolted upright at the sudden intrusion in my mind, my breath catching at the unfamiliar—yet eerily familiar—cool tone.

"Who's there?" My whispered words sounded absurd even to me, as I scanned my empty room for a presence that couldn't possibly be real. My pulse thundered, but no one appeared.

"In your head, princess," the voice replied smoothly, amusement curling through every syllable.

My breath hitched. That voice... his voice.

"How are you doing that?" I whispered, my grip tightening on the book.

"Daemati powers," he answered, as though it were the simplest thing in the world.

Daemati. My thoughts raced. Only a few could wield that kind of power, and even fewer had the skill to enter a mind from such a distance, wherever he was. The realization sent a shiver down my spine. "Get out of my head."

"Let me take you to the bookstore, and I will."

"I can't go out." The words came out sharp, though I wasn't sure whether I was speaking to him or to myself. "My father would—"

"Your father isn't home, is he?" he interrupted, his voice dipping into a dry hum. "Come now, are there wards locking you in?"

"No," I admitted, frowning, disliking that he already knew that fact.

"Chains on your doors or windows?"

"No, but—"

"Then you can leave."

"It's not that simple," I snapped, then clamped my mouth shut, wincing at my own volume.

A quiet pause. Then, softly, "What happened to the girl I met at the ball? The one who wasn't afraid to sneak away and stay out until dawn?"

"This is manipulation," I grumbled, though my chest fluttered at the memory of that night.

"Is it working?" he purred, smug.

"Yes," I muttered under my breath, hating the warmth that pooled in my stomach.

"Good. Meet me at the Spring and Summer border."

Before I could argue, the connection snapped, leaving me alone in the quiet, moonlit room. I stared at the book in my lap, then closed it with a sharp thud and tossed it onto the bed.

I shouldn't do this. I couldn't do this.

And yet, I was already moving—slipping into boots, shrugging on my satchel, and inching my window open with careful fingers. The night air kissed my skin as I hoisted myself onto the sill, every creak of the frame sending a thrill of nervous energy through me as my feet planted on the roof below me.

The climb down the flower-covered lattice was agonizingly slow, the wooden structure groaning beneath my weight as I scaled the two-story descent. By the time my feet touched the ground, my heart was racing. I pressed myself into the shadows, my movements silent as I made my way past the lingering, half-awake sentries and through the edge of the wards.

Once outside, I winnowed. The magic tugged at my ribs, spinning me through space until I landed at the Spring and Summer border.

It wasn't hard to spot him. He was already there, leaning casually against a sunstone pillar, his wings catching the moonlight like black silk. Shadows played along the sharp lines of his face, accentuating the curve of his mouth as he smiled—a sharp, knowing thing that made my steps falter.

"Evening, princess," he drawled, pushing off the pillar with an ease that made everything about him look so effortless.

"You know my title, but I still don't know your name," I replied, crossing my arms in a poor attempt to mask the way my heart stumbled at the sight of him.

His grin widened, a wicked glint in his eyes. "Let's keep it that way for now. Mystery suits us, don't you think?"

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, his hand shot out, plucking something from my hair. He held it up between two fingers—a small, pale pink rose. "You've got a knack for dramatic entrances," he said, twirling the flower.

"Must've fallen when I climbed down the lattice," I muttered, taking the rose from his hand, though my fingers brushed his for a beat longer than necessary.

His brow arched in mock surprise. "You mean to tell me flowers don't just grow from your hair? And here I thought you were a goddess in disguise."

"Don't be ridiculous." I snorted, very un-goddess-like. "This, however, I can do." I cupped the rose in my palm, letting a sliver of my magic flow into it.

The transformation was instant. Vines sprouted from the stem, curling down my wrist in an intricate dance, tiny buds blooming along their length. The rose gleamed in the moonlight, glowing faintly with the life I'd breathed into it.

His smirk faltered, replaced by wide-eyed wonder. The silver light of the moon reflected in his gaze as he leaned closer, studying the vines with an intensity that made heat crawl up my neck. "Impressive," he murmured, his voice softer now. "What else can you do?"

I met his gaze, a grin tugging at my lips. "I'll tell you when you explain how you're able to read my thoughts."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Touché," he said, the smirk returning as he straightened. He extended a hand toward me, his wings shifting slightly as if preparing for flight. "Shall we?"

"Go where?" I asked, tilting my head.

"To the bookstore, of course."

"At midnight?" My disbelieving laugh echoed in the quiet night. "They're all closed."

"Not in the Night Court." His grin turned wolfish, his wings flaring just enough to cast long shadows. "Come on, I'll show you."

I froze, my stomach twisting at the mention of his court. My voice dropped to a whisper. "The Night Court? I'm not allowed to go there. My father forbade it."

"Well," he said with a pointed glance at my boots, "he also forbade sneaking out, and yet, here we are."

His smile was the very definition of trouble, but it faltered when he caught the hesitation in my eyes. The sharp edges of his expression softened. "We don't have to. If you want, I'll winnow you right back to Spring. No harm done."

My lips parted to refuse. To tell him I couldn't, I shouldn't. But the way he watched me, that glint of challenge in his gaze, made something reckless and wild spark to life in my chest. Against every ounce of better judgment, I stepped forward and slipped my hand into his.

"No," I said softly. "I want to."

His fingers tightened around mine, warmth spreading up my arm. "Just one question before we go," I said, my voice light but curious.

"Anything," he replied, his tone low and almost teasing.

"Are there monsters in the libraries there? Creatures made of nightmares?"

His chuckle was deep and smooth, like a shadow curling around the edges of my thoughts. "Bryaxis?" He grinned. "They're a friend."

I stared at him, horrified and awed all at once. "You made friends with a nightmare?"

He tugged me closer, a wicked gleam lighting his face. "Oh, princess," he murmured, his voice dipping into something darker, more thrilling. "You have no idea the company I keep."

Before I could say another word, the world dissolved into darkness.

—

The Night court wasn't the stories my father had told me as a child at all. Tales of monsters crawling from the shadows and winged creatures coming to steal me away. Rather, it was breathtaking, even at first glance. The scent of night-blooming jasmine filled the air, mingling with the soft hum of laughter and music drifting from nearby streets. Lanterns hung in the air like suspended stars, casting a warm, golden glow over the cobblestone paths and vibrant market stalls.

I stumbled slightly as we landed, but Nyx's hand tightened around mine, steadying me. "Easy there, princess," he murmured, the warmth of his voice grounding me.

I glanced at our joined hands, but he made no move to let go, so I didn't pull away.

"This... this is the Night Court?" I whispered, my voice a mix of awe and disbelief.

"Velaris," he corrected softly, his gaze flicking over the streets like it was a lover's touch. "The City of Starlight."

I didn't know where to look first. Everything was alive, vibrant, yet somehow soothing, like the city itself was breathing. The Night Market stretched out before us, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Vendors called out to passing patrons, their stalls brimming with everything from exotic spices to delicate jewelry and hand-woven silk.

"You live here?" I asked, glancing up at him.

"Sometimes," he said vaguely, a shadow of a smirk tugging at his lips.

We began to walk, and almost immediately, heads started to turn. A merchant at a nearby stall beamed when she saw him. "Haven't seen you in weeks, boy!" she called, waving a hand towards us.

He shot the vendor a look, though it wasn't unkind. "Evening, Mrs. Fowley," he said quickly, guiding me forward before I could ask more questions.

But then another vendor spotted him. And another. Each one greeted him like an old friend, their faces lighting up as if his presence alone had brightened their evening.

"Back again, lad?" one called.

"Nyx, come here," Their voice cut through the chatter of the market. His steps faltered, his head turning toward the sound.

"Nyx?" I asked, my curiosity piqued as he guided me toward the voice, his hand still warm and steady in mine.

His eyes flicked down to meet mine, a grin tugging at his lips. "Cat's out of the bag, I suppose."

"Bat's out of the bag," I quipped, gesturing to the wings folded neatly behind him.

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Well, aren't you clever," he said dryly, though the corners of his mouth twitched, betraying his amusement.

"Who's this pretty girl?" a female asked as we approached, the same one who had called him over. She held a tray of pastries, her expression kind and curious.

He—Nyx—looked at me then, really looked, with an intensity that made my cheeks warm. Before he could answer, a group of giggling girls stumbled down the path, one of them brushing past me and bumping me forward into his chest.

"My girlfriend," he said smoothly, his arm curling around my waist, pulling me closer.

I blinked up at him, startled by his words, but as I caught the wide-eyed, dismayed looks from the group of girls, understanding dawned.

"Ah, careful with this one, love. Just like his father with the ladies," the baker teased her tone light and amused as she gave me a playful wink. Nyx's arm tightened slightly around my waist at her words.

"Here, take a sweet. For whatever trouble he puts you through," she said, plucking a chocolate-covered croissant from her tray with a pair of tongs and holding it out to me.

I hesitated for a moment before accepting the pastry, a blush creeping up my cheeks. "Thank you, Miss," I said softly, my fingers brushing hers as I took the treat.

She waved me off with a warm smile. "Call me Ressina. I run this stand for his aunt's bakery, and I have a feeling I'll be seeing more of you."

I nodded, smiling. "I hope so," I said sincerely, her kindness making the bustling market feel a little less overwhelming.

"Go on, then," she said, shooing us away. "Don't let me keep you."

Nyx didn't need to be told twice. His hand remained firm at my waist as he steered me back down the path, away from the stand.

I glanced up at him, raising a brow as I bit into the croissant. The pastry was perfect—flaky, buttery, and rich with chocolate that melted on my tongue. I made a quiet, appreciative sound before speaking. "You're popular, aren't you?"

He cleared his throat, quickening his pace as though trying to escape the conversation. "They're just friendly here."

"Friendly?" I teased, a mischievous lilt in my voice. "You must be their favorite customer—or maybe something more. Should I be jealous?"

His wings twitched, and a faint blush crept up his neck. "Are you jealous, princess?"

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Hardly," I grumbled before taking another large bite of the delectable pastry.

"The baker is a family friend," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "She seemed to like you."

"Plenty seem to like you," I muttered under my breath, finishing the last bite of the pastry. "Boyfriend?"

He cringed slightly, his expression sheepish. "Sorry. Those girls have been following me for weeks. I didn't want you to have to deal with them."

I grinned, delighting in his discomfort. "You know, if you wanted to keep a low profile, you're not doing a very good job of it," I mumble, finishing off the croissant and debating licking my fingers since it was so delicious.

He shot me a sidelong glance, his smirk returning with a wicked edge. "Jealousy looks good on you, princess."

I rolled my eyes, but the warmth spreading across my cheeks betrayed me.

We turned a corner, the bustle of the market fading behind us as we approached a cozier part of the street. Nyx slowed his pace, guiding me toward a small building nestled between two larger shops. A golden sign hung above the door, marking it as a bookshop.

I paused, taking in the sight. The windows glowed softly, and through the glass, I could see shelves upon shelves of books, their spines glinting like hidden treasures. My heart swelled at the sight.

Nyx pulled the door open, motioning for me to step inside. "After you."

The scent of parchment and ink greeted me like an old friend, mingling with the faint aroma of spiced tea. The warmth of the shop wrapped around me, inviting and comforting, as though it had been waiting just for us.

I turned to him, my lips parting to thank him, but he spoke first. "Go on. Find something you like."

His voice was softer now, the teasing edge replaced by something gentler. I hesitated for only a moment before stepping further in, my fingers trailing over the spines of books as I wandered through the aisles.

Nyx followed at a distance, his hands tucked into his pockets, his gaze steady on me.

"You brought me all this way for a book," I said over my shoulder, smiling. "You're either very kind or very strange."

"Can't I be both?" he replied, his smirk resurfacing as he leaned casually against a nearby shelf.

I shook my head, letting myself get lost in the rows of stories, their endless possibilities calling to me.

I let my fingers dance along the spines of the books, tracing gilded titles and worn leather bindings. Each shelf seemed to hum with stories waiting to be told. A soft sigh escaped me, my heart swelling with quiet contentment.

Behind me, Nyx's footsteps were faint, his presence unobtrusive but unmistakable. I could feel his gaze, watchful and steady, as I explored.

"Find something?" he asked after a while, his voice softer now, almost reverent in the quiet of the shop.

"Not yet," I admitted, my fingers pausing on a particularly beautiful hardback, still pristine and painted gold along its edges. I tilted my head, reading the title.

A smile tugged at my lips. "This seems interesting."

Nyx stepped closer, his warmth brushing against my back as he peered over my shoulder. "Good choice," he murmured, his breath stirring the hair near my temple.

I turned slightly, catching his gaze. "Do you read?"

"Of course," he said, mock offense coloring his tone. "What, do I not seem the type?"

I bit back a grin, holding the book against my chest. "You seem like the type to skim for interesting bits and skip the rest."

His grin turned wicked. "What can I say? I’ve never been one for small talk,"

I rolled my eyes and turned back to the shelves, but his laughter followed me.

"Here," he said after a moment, reaching past me. His arm brushed mine as he plucked a slim, leather-bound book from the shelf. He held it out, his eyes gleaming.

I took it from him, studying the worn cover. Lost Letters Between Lovers. I shot him a look, heat creeping into my cheeks.

His smirk deepened. "Thought it might be useful for you. In case you needed inspiration."

"For what exactly?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Winning me over," he said smoothly, his wings giving a small flick.

I laughed, shaking my head. "You've got it all wrong. I'm the one who needs convincing."

"Is that right?" he drawled, his voice low and amused.

I turned back to the shelves, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of seeing the flush that had spread down my neck.

After a few more moments of browsing, I found another book that caught my eye. I tucked it under my arm, satisfied.

"Done?" Nyx asked, his tone deceptively casual.

"For now," I said, turning to him. He tilted his head toward the counter, gesturing for me to follow.

The shopkeeper, an elderly male with spectacles perched on the end of his nose, greeted us warmly. "Nyx, my boy. Bringing someone special to the shop, I see."

I froze, suddenly hyperaware of Nyx standing beside me. His hand brushed against mine as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a few coins.

"Just passing through, Mr. Tylan," he said smoothly, though there was a faint pink tinge to his cheeks.

Mr. Tylan chuckled knowingly. "Well, it's about time you brought a girl around, the missus and I were beginning to grow doubtful you’d ever meet the one.” He breathes through his nose as he speaks, expert hands wrapping the books in brown paper. “She has excellent taste."

Nyx handed over the payment before I could even think to rummage through my bag, his voice a touch gruff as he replied, "She does."

I glanced at him, startled by the sincerity in his tone. He didn't meet my gaze, instead picking up the small stack of books and tucking them under his arm.

"Come on," he said, inclining his head toward the door.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Tylan,” I say with a soft smile as Nyx ushers me out the door.

“See you around, dear,” He gives me a simple wave.

It was odd, how anxious Nyx seemed in a place as welcoming as this. Everyone was friendly, and everyone knew him, perhaps he was afraid we’d run into the wrong set of people.

The cool night air greeted us as we stepped outside, the lively sounds of the market drifting faintly in the distance. Nyx fell into step beside me, the books still cradled in one arm.

"You didn't have to buy these for me," I said softly as he held them out to me, though he seemed more than willing to continue carrying them for me.

He shrugged, his wings shifting slightly as I took them and stuffed them into my bag. "I wanted to."

I studied him for a moment, the quiet confidence in his stride, the way the moonlight danced across his features. "You're not as insufferable as you pretend to be," I said, smiling.

His lips twitched. "Don't let it go to your head, princess."

We walked in comfortable silence for a while, the books pressing against my side with a comforting weight. Finally, I glanced at him, curiosity tugging at me.

"Why did you bring me here?"

He hesitated, his steps faltering for just a moment before he recovered. "You seemed like the type who'd like it. Thought it might make you smile."

I stared at him, warmth blooming in my chest. "You thought right."

His smirk softened into something gentler, something more real. "Good."

As we reached the edge of the market, I found myself wishing the night didn't have to end.

"Nyx," I called softly, stopping in my tracks.

He turned, dark brows lifting in question, the moonlight catching in his vibrant blue eyes.

"Thank you. For tonight," I said, the words carrying more weight than I expected.

His gaze held mine, something unspoken flickering between us. Then he smiled, and it felt as if the stars themselves had leaned in to listen.

"You think it's over already?" he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice.

I tilted my head, curiosity piqued. "What else could you possibly have planned?"

He glanced skyward, his expression unreadable. Then, without warning, he slid his hand into mine, his grip warm and steady, and winnowed us away.

The world shifted. The cool night air nipped at my skin, sharper here, and I realized we were higher—much higher. Thin air filled my lungs as I took in our new surroundings.

"Where are we?" I asked, turning in place. Encircling us were jagged rock formations, a barren beauty carved by time.

"Look up," he said simply.

I frowned but obeyed, tipping my head back. My breath hitched as the heavens unfolded above me, brighter and closer than I'd ever seen them. The stars weren't merely distant pinpricks of light—they blazed like fireflies caught in an eternal dance, constellations shimmering with unmatched clarity.

"Beautiful," I whispered, unaware the word had even left me.

"Indeed," he murmured.

I turned to him, startled to find him already staring at me. His gaze held the same reverence I felt for the stars, and my heart skipped.

I managed a soft smile, then let my eyes drift back upward, unable to tear myself away from the galaxy stretched endlessly above.

"Come here," he said gently, tugging my hand.

Only then did I realize we were still connected, his touch grounding me even as my mind reeled at the beauty around us. He led me to a rocky outcropping, the path winding into a shallow cave. For a moment, the stars disappeared behind the jagged stone ceiling, and I frowned.

But then we emerged into an open chamber, a perfect circle carved into the roof. It was as though someone had reached into the earth and torn a hole, desperate to preserve this view of the night sky. The chamber's walls cradled us, offering shelter without stealing the stars.

Nyx guided me to a makeshift bench—a cluster of smooth, square stones—and sat. I followed, still entranced, my gaze drawn skyward as if bewitched.

"I used to come here when I was younger," he said after a moment of quiet. His voice was low, intimate in the stillness. "I'd forgotten about it until tonight. You reminded me it existed."

I tore my eyes from the sky to glance at him, curiosity tugging at me. "How could anyone forget a place like this?"

He smiled faintly. "It was my escape from, everything. My family. Expectations. I needed somewhere I could breathe."

I nodded, turning my attention back to the stars. "I get the feeling."

He bumped his shoulder against mine, drawing my gaze once more. "No one else knows about it. But I thought maybe you'd need a place like this, too."

Warmth bloomed in my chest, his words wrapping around me like a soft blanket. I glanced at him, and again, he was already staring at me.

I arched a brow. "You have a staring problem, you know."

His lips curved into a smirk. "Do I? I hadn't noticed."

I rolled my eyes, chuckling as I leaned my head against his shoulder.

Together, we gazed upward. He traced the constellations with his words, his voice soft and steady, while his thumb brushed gentle circles over the back of my hand. Each star above felt like it had been hung there just for us, as if the universe had paused to watch this quiet moment unfold.

For the first time in a long time, I felt peace.

"Nyx?" I asked softly after a few beats of silence.

He tensed ever so slightly at the sound of his name, a shiver rolling through him. I told myself it was because of the chill in the air.

"Hmm?"

"Who are you, really?"

His breathing slowed at my question, as if he were recalibrating, regaining control of a situation he hadn't anticipated losing.

"I have a feeling," I began, "that the power you used to peek into my head knows my lineage. It's only fair I know who you are, too."

He glanced at me, a cocky, almost childish smirk playing on his lips—a look that said, I'm not telling.

"Come on," I groaned, throwing my free hand out in frustration. His other hand still held mine, warm and steadfast. He hadn't let go, and I didn't want to, either.

"Don't you like a bit of mystery?" he teased.

"It's not a mystery when you already know who I am," I countered, arching a brow.

"Fair point, Princess."

Heat crept up my neck at the nickname, one he'd used since the beginning—since before he'd seen into my thoughts.

"You knew," I murmured, realization dawning. My voice wavered, the words trembling like brittle leaves in the wind. "You've known I'm a High Lord's daughter all along. That's why you're entertaining this, isn't it?"

I pulled my hand from his and stood abruptly, my heart hammering in my chest.

His brows furrowed as he looked up at me, confusion—and something like hurt—flashing in his eyes. "What?"

"Don't play clueless now." My voice rose, a mixture of anger and humiliation bubbling to the surface. "You've known exactly who I am. That's why you're showing me the stars, why you're charming me. You're trying to secure a seat on my father's throne."

"You think I'm charming?" he quipped, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

I spluttered, words dying on my tongue. "That's not the point—"

"Look," he cut in, his tone steady but laced with urgency. "Yes, I've known who you were from the start. I won't deny that. But, Princess, believe me when I say the last thing I want is your father's throne."

"Why should I believe you?" I snapped, crossing my arms. "You've done nothing but lie to me since we met. Why should I trust anything you say now?"

"Because I didn't want you to see me differently," he admitted, his voice quieter now, raw. "Because of who I am."

I froze, my anger wavering. My voice softened. "And who, exactly, is that?"

"The heir to the Night Court," he said, the words falling from his lips like a confession he'd carried for too long.

The ground seemed to slip out from under me. My vision blurred for a heartbeat, but I blinked hard, willing myself to stay rooted in the moment.

My father had warned me relentlessly about the Lord of Night—engraved the warning into my mind until it became part of me. The Night Court was treacherous. Its people were dangerous.

But he lied about the court. About its beauty.

Perhaps he lied about its people, too.

"Gods, I’m sure a fool.” I sighed, putting everything together. “Nyx Archeron," I said slowly, his name foreign and familiar on my tongue.

He nodded, watching me intently. "When I approached you on the balcony, I didn't know who you were. I swear it. But as we talked, I got comfortable, let my power stretch a bit further. Halfway through the night, I realized who you were. But I... I didn't want to ruin it. I didn't want our parents' feud to dictate—this."

"This?" I asked faintly, though I didn't need clarification.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't want you to find out like this. I can take you home, if you'd prefer."

Disappointment weighed in his tone, a stark contrast to the teasing arrogance I'd grown used to.

I wasn't mad at him for his lineage—he had no control over that. I wasn't even mad he'd lied. I was mad he hadn't told me sooner. Mad that it cast a shadow over everything we'd shared tonight, turning our conversations into something that felt artificial.

My shoulders slumped, the fight leaving me as quickly as it had arrived. I lowered myself back onto the bench beside him.

"I want to start over," I said, my voice hesitant but firm.

Relief washed over his features, and he relaxed slightly, though he kept a cautious distance. "I'm sorry for lying," he said, his words softer now, more earnest. "I was, nervous."

Something told me that wasn't an emotion he felt often.

"I know," I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it. Perhaps I was the only person who could.

Taking a steadying breath, I turned to him. "It's nice to meet you, officially, Nyx," I said, a tentative smile tugging at my lips.

"Likewise, Princess," he replied, mirroring my smile.

And in the silence that followed, we both silently agreed to leave the past behind us, if only for tonight.

Nyx leaned back, resting his arms on the bench as he looked up at the stars. "You know, I've never interacted with someone who’s an heir too. Should I be bowing?"

I smirked, tilting my head as I looked at him. "Oh, absolutely. A bow is essential. Maybe even throw in a grand speech. Something like, It is my great honor to meet the Princess of the Spring Court."

"That's a tall order," he said, his lips curving into that infuriatingly smug grin. "Would a wink and a smile suffice?"

I scoffed, leaning forward and propping my chin on my hand. "You'd probably trip over your own feet if you tried to bow."

"Is that a challenge?" he asked, one brow arching in amusement.

"It's an educated guess," I shot back, crossing my arms.

He leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "You know, for someone who called me charming earlier, you're being awfully cruel."

Heat flooded my cheeks, but I refused to look away. "I said no such thing."

"Oh, you definitely did." He grinned, leaning even closer. "You think I'm charming. Admit it."

"Nyx—"

"Say it, Princess."

I narrowed my eyes, pretending to deliberate. "You know what? Fine. I think you're charming, in the same way a stray cat is charming when it's begging for food. Annoying, persistent, but kind of hard to ignore."

He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing fully, the tension leaving the both of us. "Fair enough. But if I'm a stray cat you're certainly a rabbit."

I blinked, caught off guard. "A rabbit?"

He nodded, his grin widening. "Cute, curious, and way too confident for your own good."

"Confident?" I repeated, laughing. "This coming from you? The heir of the Night Court who decided to winnow me across Prythian on a whim?"

"That was a calculated risk," he said smoothly, though the glint in his eyes gave him away.

"Calculated risk, my ass." I shook my head, unable to hide my grin. "You're lucky I haven't punched you yet."

"Oh, Princess," he drawled, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "If you wanted an excuse to get your hands on me, you could've just asked."

I opened my mouth to retort, but the words caught in my throat. His proximity was... distracting.

The air shifted, the playful banter giving way to something quieter, heavier. His gaze locked on mine, and I swore the world shrank to just the two of us, the stars above fading into the background.

I cleared my throat, trying to ignore the way my heart was suddenly racing. "You're ridiculous."

"I offered to take you home," he said softly, his thumb brushing idly over the back of my hand and I wasn’t sure when they intertwined again, "and yet here we are." His tone was teasing, but there was something else beneath it. Something real.

I didn't answer, my throat suddenly tight. He was too close now, his presence overwhelming in a way that wasn't entirely unwelcome.

Before I could overthink it, his hand moved, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. His fingers lingered at my temple, his touch featherlight.

"Nyx..." I breathed, not even sure what I was about to say.

But he didn't answer—not with words. Instead, he leaned in, his lips brushing mine in the gentlest, softest kiss.

It was tentative, as if he wasn't sure if I'd pull away. But I didn't. I couldn't help but kiss him back. It was foreign, but filling me with a warmth similar to the sun's morning rays.

When he pulled back, his eyes searched mine, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

I shook my head, my thoughts a tangle of emotions. "We can't," I blurted, though my voice betrayed me with its lack of conviction.

"I know," he replied, his voice heavy with something that felt like regret—but also determination.

Our eyes remained locked, mere inches apart. We really couldn't, not with who we were, not with who our parents were.

Neither of us seemed to care at that moment, and I don't know if it was me or him who moved first, but suddenly his soft lips were back on mine.

This time, there was no hesitation. His hand cupped my jaw, pulling me closer as his lips claimed mine. It wasn't soft or shy anymore—it was raw, urgent, as though the world might end if he didn't kiss me harder.

I felt myself melt into it, my hands tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his free hand moving to my waist to hold me steady. The air around us seemed to shift, thickening, crackling with an energy I couldn't place.

Then it happened.

A snap, like a tether locking into place.

I gasped against his lips but didn't move away, the sensation overwhelming as something warm and ancient bloomed deep in my chest, spreading through me like wildfire. It was hard to put into words, but suddenly I felt connected to the male against me, connected to his emotions, his thoughts, his very soul. Tethered. Bound.

Nyx pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against mine as his breath came in quick, uneven bursts. His eyes were wide, filled with equal parts wonder and disbelief.

"You felt that too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

I could only nod, my own breath shaking as I tried to process what had just happened.

The mating bond.

The realization settled between us like a living, breathing thing, as though it had been waiting for this exact moment to make itself known.

"Nyx," I began again, but he silenced me with a small, disbelieving chuckle.

He leaned in again, kissing me softly, the smile on his lips brushing against mine like a whispered secret. It was almost as if he couldn't stop himself, as if the bond was drawing him closer with every passing second. When he pulled back, his amusement lingered in his expression, though his eyes were heavy with the weight of what we'd just discovered.

"The gods have a cruel way of amusing themselves," he murmured, his voice laced with irony.

I sighed, our noses brushing as we remained impossibly close. "What are we supposed to do?"

"We'll figure it out," he reassured, his tone soft but certain. His hands, strong and steady, cradled my face, grounding me amidst the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me. "It doesn't have to change anything."

"But it will," I argued, my voice trembling.

"Yeah," he said quietly, his thumb tracing a soothing pattern against my cheek. "I know."

The ache in my chest was something new and raw, a longing that pulsed in time with the bond, an unspoken promise tying us together. It was overwhelming and comforting all at once. My eyes fluttered shut as I tried to sift through the torrent of thoughts crashing over me.

After a moment, his demeanor grew more serious, though his thumb continued its soothing path along my cheek. “We’ll need somewhere safe to be when we accept the bond.”

I tilted my head, my eyes fluttering open as I frowned at him

In confusion. “Safe?”

His lips quirked, a knowing look in his eyes. “I’ve heard stories of what happens to couples during The Frenzy. It’s, intense.”

A shiver ran through me at his words, not from the cold, but from the vivid images that his tone—and my imagination—conjured.

Nyx raised a brow, clearly catching the direction of my thoughts, but I quickly stammered, “Just cold.”

“Cold?” His smirk returned, though it was softer this time, laced with something tender. “Here.”

Without another word, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. The warmth of it enveloped me immediately, carrying his scent—fresh air, cedarwood, and something uniquely him.

“Better?” he asked, his voice low as his hands lingered for a moment, making sure the jacket sat snugly around me.

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling too widely. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, Princess,” he murmured, his gaze lingering on me for a beat longer than necessary before he settled back, his hand casually brushing against mine.

And just like that, the air between us shifted again—lighter, easier, yet still charged with something deeper.

“We’ll figure this out,” Nyx said softly, his confidence unwavering.

Looking at him now, his jacket around my shoulders and a small, reassuring smile on his lips, I knew he meant it.

And then, as if he couldn't resist, he kissed me again.

This one was gentle, hesitant, but filled with so much care it nearly unraveled me. His lips lingered on mine, soft and warm, making it impossibly hard to focus.

"Lucien," I blurted out, pulling back suddenly.

Nyx blinked, his brows furrowing at my abrupt shift. "What about him?"

An idea began to form, one I clung to like a lifeline. "Lucien—you know him, don't you?"

"He's married to my aunt," Nyx said cautiously, his tone laced with curiosity.

I nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place in my mind. "My father lets me visit the Day Court now that Lucien is ruling there. Maybe... maybe I can convince him to let me stay with Lucien for a while. You could find a reason to be there too."

His lips pressed into a thin line, his mind clearly racing through the implications. "And when you have to return to the Spring Court?" he asked, his voice measured.

"We'll figure it out then," I said, shaking my head. The thought of leaving him made my chest tighten painfully, but I pushed through the discomfort. "I just... I want this. I want us."

His answer was immediate, the conviction in his voice struck a chord deep within me. "I do too."

"Good," I said, a small, tentative smile forming on my lips. "Then tomorrow, I'll talk to my father. In the meantime, you can talk to me using your Daemati powers. Can't you?"

He nodded, his sapphire eyes softening as they roamed over my face.

"We'll be fine," I said, my voice steadier now, the words carrying a newfound determination.

Nyx mirrored my smile, and for a moment, it felt as though the world narrowed to just the two of us. This male—who had teased me, infuriated me, and unraveled me in the span of a week—had somehow wormed his way into my heart. And now, with the bond tying us together, I couldn't imagine life without him.

"Are we okay with Lucien and your aunt knowing?" I asked, my voice dropping to a whisper as the thought hit me.

"They'd be the first people I'd tell out of my entire family," he said without hesitation.

"Me too," I agreed softly.

His thumb brushed against my cheek again, his touch both soothing and electrifying. "We'll be fine," he repeated as if trying to convince us both.

But as he said it, I believed him.

The warmth between us lingered as we sat on the bench, the conversation flowing back into the easy rhythm of banter. He teased me about my lack of subtlety in staring, while I reminded him that he was the one who practically glowed under the moonlight, making it impossible not to.

But the night was growing late, and the weight of reality began to creep in.

"I should get you back to Summer's borders," Nyx finally said, his voice tinged with reluctance.

I sighed, not wanting the night to end, but I nodded. "You're right."

He stood and offered me his hand, which I took without hesitation. "Three days," I said as we began walking out of the cave. "Meet me in Day."

He smiled, a flash of teeth and mischief. "Three days."

—

When we reached the border, the air seemed heavier, more final. I turned to him, feeling the pull of the bond even as I prepared to leave. I shrugged off the jacket he had draped over my shoulders and held it out to him.

"Here," I said. "Take it back. If my father sees it, he'll have questions."

He crossed his arms, smirking. "Keep it."

I frowned. "Nyx—"

"Nope. You keep it. Hide it if you're worried about your father. Or don't. Either way, it gives me an excuse to see you again."

I gave him a flat look, but his smugness only deepened.

"Nyx," I repeated, more firmly this time, shoving the jacket into his chest.

He caught it easily but didn't take it. Instead, he stepped closer, his voice low and teasing. "Princess, if you give it back, I'll have no reason to track you down. And that would be such a shame."

I stared at him, torn between exasperation and amusement. His logic was infuriatingly charming, and the grin he wore told me he knew he was winning.

"Fine," I relented with a dramatic sigh, clutching the jacket back to my chest. "You win."

His smile softened into something warmer as he leaned down, brushing a kiss against my lips. It was quick, light, and left me wanting more.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice like a caress.

I huffed a laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly. "Don't push it."

But he kissed me again, this time slower, deeper, his hands sliding to my waist as he pulled me closer. I melted into him, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as his lips moved against mine.

"Nyx," I whispered against his mouth, the word half a chuckle. "I have to go."

"One more," he murmured, his voice husky with need.

I hesitated, but the bond between us tugged insistently, and I found myself nodding. "Fine."

This time, he kissed me like he wanted me to remember it, to carry the taste of him back with me to Spring. His hands framed my face as his lips claimed mine, the kiss lingering, searing itself into my memory.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breathing uneven. "Three days," he whispered.

"Three days," I echoed, my voice soft, but my resolve firm.

With one last lingering glance, I winnowed back to Spring Court Manor, the taste of him still on my lips and his jacket clutched tightly in my hands.

My father was going to kill me.

Read part three here.

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itsswritten · 9 months ago

Text

Cauldron-born

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: When an unexplainable energy pulls the Inner Circle to barge into the Day court, they're all shocked at what they find. But it's Azriel who can't help wonder if his dreams have finally been answered.

Part 2

“I hadn’t meant to hide this from you Rhysand,” Helion’s usual warm tone was replaced with something sterner, bolder— unwavering.

A breeze pulled on your skirt, the floaty material rippling under the wind. It was always warm in Day, but now, with the appearance of uninvited guests, there was a coldness in the air you hadn’t experienced before.

A bite that pulled at your skin raising goosebumps across your arms.

You guessed this reaction wasn’t a rare occurrence when facing the Night Courts Inner Circle.

Helion shifted his weight, his body stood in front of yours in a protective manner. A nervousness emitted from his energy, an emotion that actually seemed strange to even be associated with him.

Helion wasn’t the nervous type. Charming and flirtatious, bold and defiant— not nervous.

Helion pushed his shoulders back, his stance flexing against the shadowy group that had just arrived.

They had shaken him.

Perhaps you were naive to think these people wouldn’t, naive to believe you could live your life quietly. Slip through the cracks. Go unnoticed. No you were not destined for that, as much as your dear friend may have wanted that for you.

So if a quiet life was not meant to be, then you would at least claim it as yours.

With a light step you moved from behind Helion to his side, coming into full view of the group who had appeared unannounced in the courtyard. Your hand came to Helion’s gently, giving him a soft squeeze and light smile that stretched to your eyes.

How they had gotten through Day Courts shields didn’t come as a surprise really. Helion had divulged how powerful the High Lord of the Night Court was. That if he really wanted to take them all down, then Helion suspected in that unrelenting pit of power Rhys probably could.

But despite this power, Rhys had never ravaged control over the land. Helion was fond of Rhys and his family, they were allies. Perhaps he would even consider them friendly.

And yet Helion hadn’t told them about you.

Energies and rhythms rippling from their bodies, all with their own melody of colours unique to them floated toward you. Your eyes scanned over their features quickly, reading their expressions, the tight lines their faces made before one look pulled you to a hasty stop.

A hazel lock held you tightly as a males gaze ensnared you.

Golden rays broke through a midnight blue aura, trapping you in a moment that seemed to expand and retract all at once. He was the most beautiful male you’d ever laid eyes on, and it took every ounce of will power to pull your gaze from his.

There was a simmering at the pit of your stomach, something familiar and warm, and you swore you could hear singing—

“She is like us.” A girl from the back of the crowd spoke, beautiful and sweet. Elain, you assumed. Her aura, one that resembled sunlight radiating in golden flicks. If you hadn’t known who she was you’d had assumed she was a Day court resident from her glow alone.

Elain stepped forward, another girl stepping beside her as if they’d both been pulled by the same magnetic pulse to the front of the group.

This girl. This girl was Nesta. You were sure of it. That silver flickering aura licked at her skin, an energy so similar and yet so different to her sisters.

“Hm..no not exactly like us…” Elain seemed to mutter, more to herself than anyone else. Her eyes scanning you as she tried to get a read, try and decipher what had pulled her here in the first place.

Why you had pulled them here.

“Something other.” Nesta spoke.

You don’t think she’d actually intended for it to sound so venomous, but the words had snapped like poison. You noticed how for a split second there was a softeness in her energy. Whether she was regretful of her tone or not, you had flinched at the word.

Other.

Hm. Perhaps that was the best way to describe you.

Elain glanced at her sister, her face not changing as she digested Nesta’s words. There was a shuffling behind them, only slight and small. Would barely be noticeable if it wasn’t so hard for you not to notice.

Him.

His scarred fingers twitched at his sides, shadows swirling around them as they peered over those giant black membranes that were drawn in at his back. A tattoo creeped up the side of his neck, peeking through his shirt as you followed up to his jaw. Black leather’s covered his body, blue siphons shimmering under the setting sun. You tried so hard not to let your eyes wander back, but as though you had no control you gaze landed on his again.

Only to find he was already staring.

Azriel.

Helion had mentioned him to you before and you recalled how you had rolled the name a few times in your mouth. The name feeling so foreign and familiar all at once.

“Not cauldron-made, no not quite.” Elain had turned her attention back to you.

You had stepped forward now, stepped out from the shadow of Helion.

Stepped out to face what you had been avoiding.

“You are Cauldron-born.”

✵

“Would you like to join us for some tea?” Your response had been after Elain’s heavy statement.

Your words coming out in a flurry to cut through the heaviness in the air. Despite being outside it felt stifling. Several eyes piercing into you. You could almost hear the way they were trying to decipher you— breakdown what Elain had said.

You hadn’t allowed them the time. Quickly offering them tea, as you glanced at the small set up you and Helion had come to the courtyard to enjoy.

It was only a matter of moments before more furniture was erected and began the awkward silence while the piping pot of tea began to simmer to a cool.

Your hands were scrunched up in your skirt, fists full of fabric on your lap being an obvious tell of unease to those who knew what to look for. A strained smile was forced to your lips, expression light and brows arched in apprehension as you watched the uninvited guests silently take sips of tea.

With a quick sideways glance you gave Helion a nervous smile, your lips wobbling as you took a sharp inhale. Helion responded with a gentle pat of your head, his large hand coming to ruffle your hair while a lazy smiled adorned his lips.

His energy finally shifting to one you recognised more, warm and teasing. He was relaxed again. Whatever shock the inner circle had originally caused, Helion now seemed...somewhat nonchalant.

That should have been reassuring, but the tension in your muscles didn't want to relax.

“This is y/n,” Helion finally spoke, addressing the people who had barged into his court.

At the revelation of a name, the inner circle cast their attention solely on you.

“These are my friends y/n, I’ve told you about them already. We had anticipated your arrival at some point,” he continued giving a knowing look to Rhys.

Your eyes scanned the expressions of the five people in front of you.

Rhys, Amren, Nesta, Elain and of course Azriel. Not the whole inner circle, no there were members missing. But Helion had done such a great job at explaining them to you, that it really wasn’t difficult to figure out who was who.

“It’s l-lovely to meet you all,” you managed out, voice falling softer than you had hoped. Your own eyes gently moving across them all before flitting to the shadowy presence that remained stood behind the Night Courts High Lord.

Azriel.

Spymaster and Shadowsinger of the Night Court.

You couldn’t seem to stop yourself from looking, among all the noise he sung the sweetest. His energy, amongst those swirling smoke coloured tendrils was the most beautiful display you had ever seen. Not the most powerful by any means, Rhysand and Helion’s outshone his aura in many ways but his was the most enticing— at least to you.

Composure wasn’t something Azriel usually lacked, but after hearing the softness of your voice fill the warm evening air he had to collect himself entirely.

From the moment he’d set his eyes on you, he couldn’t ignore the feeling in the depths of his chest. Maybe if you hadn’t been the cause of it, he’d have assumed there was something wrong with his heart.

Azriel noticed the way your fingers nervously picked at your skirt, fists tight with the material as you sat up straight beside Helion. As if your posture would bring a confidence you were clearly lacking.

He could sense it, your unease, nervousness. Picked up on it before even his shadows could whisper it to him.

Nervous, nervous, nervous.

He blinked them away. He already knew.

Pretty.

Another whispered. He already knew that too.

Pretty was putting it plainly though. You were breathtaking.

Azriel wanted to reassure you. Comfort the anxiety he could tell you were drowning in. It was such a strange sensation, to feel this connection so deeply with someone he’d never met before, that Azriel couldn’t help but question why.

Azriel allowed himself to consider that perhaps something he’d been dreaming of for so long was finally his.

That feeling, the ache in his chest you caused— was almost painfully lovely. He swore this was exactly how his brothers had described it to him.

Azriel found himself allowing the smallest curve spread to the edge of his lips, a gentle, secret smile. Just for you.

A smile that softened your own forced expression to something more relaxed and genuine.

For a moment it felt as though it was just you two. The noise and vibrations of everyone else seemed to fade. An embrace of cobalt and hazel filling you with a warmth that felt so familiar.

“But Elain is correct. Y/n is cauldron-born.” Helion’s voice broke the trance you both seemed to be in.

Your nervousness from before simmering hotter.

“It cannot be,” Amren declared, disbelief tinging her tone as her gaze pierced into you.

“You think I lie?” Helion challenged.

“How do you know for sure?” Rhys pressed back, an uncertainty in his tone.

“Because I know you all feel it too,” Helion’s voice was deep, a gleam in his eye as he turned to you proudly.

“She is the Mother’s daughter.”

A statement. Even more bold than Elain’s settled a silence across the courtyard. This time it wasn’t stifling, their energy shifting to something of awe, admiration and then devotion.

In one quick movement a figure dropped to their knees. Head pressing to the cool stone ground.

Amren had bowed before your feet.

And Amren bowed to no one.

a/n: Okay I know this a whole lot more of elusive-ness and I'm sorry, I just thought sharing this little bit more is better than nothing at all. I wanted to flesh this first out properly so here's the full part one! I've been so swamped with work and inspiration struck this evening so I quickly wrote this in my notes. I promise I will eventually finish it, even if it's just little updates here and there. I'm hoping maybe 2 more parts, so it'll be a nice little mini-series!

I also took it upon myself to try and tag everyone who commented and reblogged because you all seemed very invested so didn't want you to miss this installment even if it is tiny<3

Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound-blog @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

CB tags: @hannzoaks @je-suis-prest-rachel @awkardnerd @cleverzonkwombatsludge @faerieboismh @glitterypirateduck @paradisebabey @jesskidding3 @searchingforbucky @beardburnsupersoldiers @chubby-unicornz @toxicsociety17-blog g @sapphenaa @starsidesigh @kalistaangelsbane @bookishthoughtss @pit-and-the-pen

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #cauldron-born #azriel x y/n #azriel angst #reader x azriel #azriel acotar #azriel series

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miya-suns · 15 days ago

Text

A Court of Moon and Shadows

Masterlist

Warnings: blood, canonical violence from the book, suggestive.

Words: 1.5k

Prologue - One

With Rhys trapped in Under the Mountain, a grief-stricken Azriel searches the colors of the rainbow for a reminder of why their sacrifice was worth it. And he finds it.

It was one of those days that had become more frequent as the years passed. Azriel had left his friends at the city house and allowed himself some moments alone, crossing through the shadows and rediscovering Velaris. The Solstice festivities were approaching, and the buzz of the townspeople melted the cold of winter and warmed the streets.

If only it were enough to warm his heart, enough to bring him the peace those people felt. Azriel wished he could feel even a fraction of that happiness, but how could he?

How could he, knowing that his High Lord, his brother, was out there facing Amarantha’s threat alone, while he, his Spymaster, wasn’t even able to know what was happening outside the city limits? Azriel felt useless and pathetic.

He wanted to be by Rhysand’s side, wherever he was, facing the problem together. The beloved city had become a bitter prison, a constant reminder that he could be doing something more. But there was an order from his High Lord to protect Velaris, and Azriel would continue to fulfill it until Rhysand returned.

So, when the fury in his heart tore at his chest, making him want to act irrationally, he would leave and gaze at the city. He allowed Velaris to show for itself that it was worth it. That it was worthy of his High Lord’s sacrifice. Of all of them — Azriel, Cassian, Amren, and Morrigan — who ignored their own desires and stayed there.

Waiting.

Guarding.

Azriel flew to the Rainbow.

He stopped at the city's edge, adorned with cheerful colors, built high on the hills that stretched directly to the river’s edge. The moon was full, its light bathing the tiles with a mystical, soft tone, like a painted canvas. The Spymaster ignored the stars, which now seemed so close, pulsing and shining, and his eyes scanned the area as he descended into a secluded alley.

The shadows embraced him, allowing Azriel to isolate himself from all the lights and brightness that filled the surroundings, his footsteps silently following the street as the sound of music filled his ears.

Suddenly, he stopped, his eyes fixed, fascinated by the sight of her.

The snowflakes falling slowly through the air didn’t seem cold enough to stop the high fae. The hazel eyes of the male absorbed the details as, without even realizing it, his feet carried him toward her. The white silk dress covered her entire curvaceous body, and the fabric seemed to reflect the light around, hugging her breasts and torso before flowing like gentle waves to the ground. Her onyx skin contrasted with it, her curls tied back, the voluminous locks cascading down the female’s back.

A huge harp was placed in front of her, and Azriel watched as her delicate fingers slid over the strings with mastery, just as an archer pulls the bow to shoot. The song managed to isolate itself from all others, a unique cadence of sounds that slid through the air, reaching even the Illyrian shadows. Her voice was worthy of the notes that echoed, pure as crystal-clear water and as powerful as a waterfall, overpowering all the emotions of the male until nothing was left but admiration and raw desire flowing through his veins, stretching his muscles and burning beneath his flesh.

And when silver irises met his gaze, the notes fading as the end of the song approached, Azriel had already forgotten any doubts and regrets that had been gnawing at his heart.

It was worth it.

═════ ☽ ◯ ☾ ═════

Selene became a companion, if not frequent, at least regular in Azriel's life, something unusual among the many... lovers the male kept.

When their eyes met that night, he knew he wanted to take her to his bed, and the female knew it too. The invitation came soon after she finished her performance, and Azriel had certainly felt frustrated with the tiny room in the small apartment where she lived, but the feeling of being inside her made him forget the discomfort within minutes.

Hearing her voice whisper his name, the soft flesh of her waist tightened beneath his hands, their shadows intertwining with hers, blending into the darkness of the night as his face buried itself in the curve of her shoulder, inhaling the salty scent of sweat mixed with the citrus fragrance that always surrounded her. Azriel had quickly learned to appreciate every sensation that having her brought.

Much like him, Selene was an enigma. Her gaze left no room for the male to understand her, let alone her actions, always controlled and, at the same time, filled with fluid, enchanting movements, as if Selene was always dancing. He had grown used to that unsettling feeling, when his eyes would trace each of her actions, trying to understand the nuances that hid beneath the features that expressed so much and yet nothing at all.

If she wanted something, she would say it if necessary, and Azriel appreciated that. He remembered the two only demands Selene had made when he pushed her against the wall, the apartment door closing with his shadows while his hands lifted her body as if it were a feather and the high fae's legs wrapped around his waist.

"Don’t touch my back, and before you leave, make me clean, I won’t sleep dirty and smelling like you, Shadowcharmer. Got it?"

Azriel grunted in response before groaning when her hands tangled in his hair, scratching his scalp before pulling it hard, pushing him away from her and awakening the male from his stupor for a few seconds.

Hazel eyes met liquid silver, the female's full lips parted slightly as she stared at him with veiled determination.

"Got it?"

The ghost of a smile played on the Spymaster’s lips.

What a merciless creature.

"Got it."

That was his only answer before he finally claimed her.

═════ ☽ ◯ ☾ ═════

Azriel could barely see beyond blood and mist in front of him. His shield collided with Cassian’s as he and his brother defended the city they called Home. The power tore through his veins, the sword in his hand dripping blood, hot and putrid as he shattered the monsters flying overhead.

Suddenly, a thunderous noise echoed, awakening the Shadowsinger from the hypnosis of battle. His own power shuddered before the death that permeated the darkness racing toward Velaris, devouring the world. The enemy soldiers were swallowed up and did not emerge after it.

Cassian cursed beside him, watching as the power of their High Lord swept through the city as if it were minuscule, silent fury and death incarnate projecting over the Starfall City. The soldiers’ screams were silenced as, slowly, the realization that they had won the battle settled in their minds.

The wave of darkness vanished.

The sun’s light, warm and buttery, whispered over the city, over the palaces, over the Rainbow.

Rainbow.

Azriel felt his head ache, something in his chest pulling anxiously as he raised his wings, barely responding to Cassian’s inquiries while his shadows spread across the block, searching, digging, stretching until...

Silver blood, like his eyes, covered his arms and hands. In front of her, two fae mourned the small, limp body in their arms, pale and lifeless. Beside them, one of the creatures hovered, motionless, its body distorted, long arms and legs desperately tangled. Azriel spotted the head a few meters away, still pouring blood onto the cobblestones.

He landed, his boots drawing the attention of the pair of fae, whose faces were streaked with tears, slightly greenish. Selene didn’t move. The Spymaster approached, sword sheathed and hands free to hold the female's face, lifting it just enough for Azriel to meet her gaze.

He expected fear. Regret. Sadness — even terror, but nothing prepared him for the hatred radiating from those normally calm eyes. His power, or what was left of it after the battle, sighed with vivid pleasure, recognizing something deep and dark within her silver orbs, his shadows curling around Selene’s wrists, descending her arms, rising up her neck, and disappearing into her clothes, blending with her black skin, almost becoming one as his body responded to hers.

She was fine. Thank the Mother... she was fine. Azriel didn’t even understand why his heart suddenly felt so at peace, even though he knew there was still much to fix. If they could even be fixed.

"I killed him too quickly."

Her melodious and enchanting voice gave way to one as dark as midnight. Azriel could feel the threat, the storm hovering under the words. Selene turned her head, looking behind Azriel, directly at the parents of that child, that blessing that had been torn from them in mere minutes.

"I’m sorry."

Azriel etched that expression into his mind.

He replayed it over and over as he left the high fae at home and headed to the city house to see his friends, his family. He envisioned it again while they spoke, Amren’s weakened body falling onto his own as they sat on the shared sofa.

Mor let out a sigh.

"So, what do we do now?"

"We sleep. We eat." Amren replied simply.

Cassian still wore a desolate expression on his face. Feyre and Rhysand were together, and the High Lady’s eyes were swollen from crying. Azriel remembered the blood on Selene’s hands, the look full of fury and death, and then added, his voice hoarse from the rage of battle:

"And then we retaliate."

The whole series is complete, but it's very difficult to translate the text. So I'll try to publish one chapter per day :)

For those who want to be tagged, just comment

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parkerslatte · 10 months ago

Text

Different

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none

Summary: Ever since Feyre arrived at Velaris, they have only ever known Azriel a stoic and mostly serious. But once his wife comes home, she sees a different side to him.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Feyre watched as Azriel stood by the window. His shadows moved over his shoulders and around his ear as if whispering something to him. The expression on Azriel’s face was his same neutral one that only ever seemed to change the smallest amount. And only ever in the presence of the Inner Circle and even then there would only be a small hint of a smile.

It was late at night and everyone was enjoying a relaxing night with a few bottles of Rhys’s expensive alcohol. So far, Azriel hadn’t moved from his place at the window, his back was rigid as if he was expecting something, though that was the only indicator that he was. His face was his usual stoicism, giving nothing away.

“Az, are you ever going to get away from that window anytime soon?” Cassian complained.

Azriel turned his attention to Cassian and scowled. “I’m busy.”

“Not busy enough to spend time with the people you love,” Cassian teased.

“Az, sit down, you won’t miss anything,” Rhys chimed in.

With a final look through the window, Azriel walked over to the rest of the Inner Circle and sat in the armchair. His back was tense and he was not fully relaxed. Ever since Feyre had known him he had always been somewhat alert to everything.

While everyone continues with the card game, Feyre couldn’t help but pay more attention to Azriel than to the game. Like Feyre, Azriel didn’t seem to be paying any attention to the game either. Instead he stared at the table in front of him completely lost in thought.

Elain, who was sitting on the floor beside Mor, looked up to Azriel. “It’s your turn,” she said.

“Oh,” Azriel said before picking a card out of his hand and placing it on top of the pile.

“That isn’t a card you can even put on top,” Cassian complained.

Azriel rolled his eyes. “Does it matter? You change the rules when you’re losing anyway.”

“I do not!” Cassian exclaimed. “I take this game seriously.”

“Until you are losing,” Nesta mumbled under her breath.

Cassian began to argue back, clearly becoming outnumbered in his argument. Feyre only watched on with amusement.

However everything was quickly interrupted by a new voice, one Feyre had never heated before, cut through the argument.

“I leave you all alone for a few years and everything goes to shit?”

Everything goes silent as everyone stares at the beautiful female who had just entered the room. Before Feyre could even process everything, Azriel threw his cards back down on the table and rushed up to the female.

The female giggled in delight as Azriel’s arms wrapped around her and swung her around. Feyre looked at her two sisters, each of them held the same expression she did. Confusion.

What shocked Feyre the most about the situation was the bright and wide smile stretching across Azriel’s face. She had only noticed now that he had dimples.

“I missed you so much,” Azriel mumbled.

“It has only been a few months for you,” the female replied.

“That is too long for me. I always wish for you to be next to me,” Azriel replied and pressed his lips against the females. His arms circled her waist, making sure there wasn’t a single gap between their bodies. The female threaded her fingers through his hair, causing Azriel to sigh in delight. Feyre couldn’t help but feel surprised by this display of affection from Azriel.

Feyre leaned back against Rhys. “Who is that?”

“Azriel’s mate and wife,” Rhys answered.

“What?” Feyre exclaimed. “None of you have ever mentioned her before.”

“That was Azriel’s decision,” Rhys replied, filling up his glass. “You see, Y/N works as a researcher all over the continent for me so she is rarely ever here so none of us can protect her. Azriel has made a lot of enemies over the years and if he were tied to her, she could be put in even more danger.”

“When was the last time they saw each other?” Elain interjected.

“For Azriel a few months ago,” Rhys answered. “Those two weeks just before Solstice when Azriel wasn’t here, he was on the continent with her.”

Feyre watched as Azriel buried his head into Y/N’s neck, holding her against him tightly. Feyre smiled at the sight.

“It has been at least two years since the rest of us have last seen Y/N,” Cassian chimed in. “It would be nice of her to greet the rest of us.”

Y/N pulled away from Azriel to smile at everyone else. “Give me a break, Cass. If you were to go without a hug from your mate in a few months, you wouldn't be jumping to greet everyone else first.”

“She knows about us?” Nesta asked.

Cassian nodded. “Whenever Azriel meets up with her, she always asks about you all. Apparently she has been excited to meet you all.”

Feyre watched as Azriel and Y/N walked over to join the group. Azriel’s gaze never left Y/N for a single second. Feyre’s gaze shifted down to their joined hands. She hid her smile behind her glass.

Y/N quickly greeted Rhys, Cassian and Mor with a hug and she gave a small nod to Amren.

Azriel sat down on the armchair first and as Y/N was about to sit in the arm of it, Azriel pulled her down so she sat in his lap instead. His arms locked around her waist as his chin rested on her shoulder. Feyre was sure she had never seen him look so happy before, so at ease. The smile on his face was one Feyre had never seen.

“It is great to finally meet you three,” Y/N said, her gaze flicking between Feyre, Nesta and Elain. “This one here,” she said, reaching to cup Azriel’s cheek, “has told me a lot about you.”

“It is great to meet you,” Feyre said with a smile.

“So now that introductions have finished,” Cassian begins, “can we get back to the game now? I was about to win.”

“Is that because you changed the rules halfway through the game?” Y/N teased.

Cassian rolled his eyes. “You know what, Y/N. I don’t think I missed you at all.”

Y/N chuckled. “We both know that’s a lie.”

Azriel laughed along with Y/N and placed a soft kiss to her shoulder. He looked completely different to the stoic and serious shadowsinger Feyre was used to. With Y/N, Azriel seemed like a completely different person. The tension had vanished from his body and his shadows, which were once sliding over his shoulders, were now caressing Y/N legs and arms. One of his hands caressed her thigh while the other threaded with hers. Feyre could see the goosebumps appear on Y/N’s skin wherever he caressed.

Azriel whispered something into Y/N’s ear which caused her to turn to him, smiling wide, her lips hovering just above his. The glimmer in Azriel’s eyes was prominent as he looked at her. It was as if she hung the stars. There was so much love and tenderness in his eyes that it could only be described as something out of a romance novel. She had never seen him look so at ease before. It was if everything else had melted away and the only thing left was Y/N.

Feyre couldn’t help but feel giddy at the sight.

“How long have they been mates for?” Feyre asked Rhys.

“Nearly three hundred years,” Rhys replied, wrapping an arm around Feyre. “They have been married for longer, the bond snapped nearly fifty years after they were married.”

“They seem happy,” Feyre said, her eyes not shifting from where Azriel and Y/N sat.

Rhys smiled at his two friends, friends he considered family. “They are. Azriel is always his happiest when Y/N is around. He always has been ever since they met.”

“Why does she go away for long periods of time?” Feyre questioned. “It feels like torture when I’m away from you for too long. I cannot imagine being mates to someone for three hundred years and only being able to see them every few months.”

“That is the way it has been through their whole relationship,” Rhys explains. “They both knew what each other did for a job and neither of them wanted the other to give it up.”

“How long is she back for this time?” Feyre asked.

“I hadn’t asked,” Rhys said. “But I have a small feeling she will be here for a while this time.”

Feyre frowned. “How so?”

“Because if I know anything about Y/N, it is that she would never decline a glass of my finest wine and so far she has declined every glass Mor has offered her,” Rhys observed.

Feyre looked at Rhys excitedly. “Does that mean—?”

Rhys smiled. “They haven’t said anything so I assume that they wish to keep the news between them for a little while longer.”

Feyre smiled over at Y/N and Azriel. She caught Y/N’s eye. The beautiful female only sent a wink Feyre’s way, a clear indication that she had overheard her and Rhys’s conversation.

“Az, it’s your turn,” Nesta said.

Azriel throws all of his cards onto the table. “I think I am done for the night.”

Cassian groaned . “Really?”

“Really,” Azriel said. “I want to spend time with my gorgeous mate and wife.”

Cassian chuckled. “That is only an excuse because you are losing,” the general teased.

Azriel rolled his eyes and swooped Y/N up in his arms. Her arms locked around his neck. “If you need us— actually don’t even try to contact us at all.”

Y/N threw her head back and laughed as Azriel carried her out of the room. Feyre could hear them laughing loudly even when the door was firmly closed behind them. Feyre leaned into Rhys and linked her fingers with his.

“I am happy for them,” Feyre said, her eyes staring at the door where Azriel and Y/N had left.

Rhys kissed the top of Feyre’s head. “Me too.”

#acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fluff

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