#he dressed like this for Feyre

[romanticatheartt]

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆Rhysand⊹₊⟡⋆

aka 🌌Daddy night 🌌 as we like to call him JSJDJRJTMKDKF

This piece is drawn by my very talented friend @edreavie who told us she wants to do a free commission for us and as penniless as we are (and by we I mean me, @nestastits and @sserrafeim), we all accepted delightfully :D

She wanted to do a character study and asked us what she should draw and what did we asked? ✨Sluty✨ Rhys<33

This was the reference hehe

Edit: we found the original post

And sserrafeim was summoned

Corset and jewellery was a necessity!!

We really wanted a window to his heart... and were very enthusiastic about it😃

[haveihitanerve]

No no no Feyre, Rhysiepoo, you don’t understand. Lucien wasn’t looking at you with disgust because you’re mated and he’s seeing it for the first time believing you loved Tamlin, he’s disgusted because he just had to hike through mountains, fight his brothers, and fly in another males arms uncomfortably, is in filthy clothes and just betrayed his best friend for a mate he doesn’t even know, and now you guys just ignored him in favor of fucking. Give the male a break. Any reasonable person would be equally as disgusted, the only reason your inner circle isn’t is because they’re used to it. 

[azrielhours]

Domestic

Azriel x Reader

Word count: 1530

Synopsis: Az watches you get ready for an event. He's never seen the process before and is extremely taken by it. It feels so personal to him and he can’t explain it.

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

He’d never known an intimacy so sweet. It’d likely become an injury he’d carry afterwards when it came to an end.

A taste of domesticity he didn’t even realize he’d been missing out on.

Hours left for the gala they’d be attending, and you were getting ready. The sweetness of watching it unfold was meditative. A window to your most private hours, so glaringly personal that it felt like a sampling of commitment.

He looked forward to this—it quickly became Azriel’s favourite part of the day. All his to savour.

He’d known yearning, he’d known the sex. Had pined over Mor for centuries, pictured a life with her, ached for the void he felt. Coveted pretty females, kept lovers to satiate himself. He was well versed in admiration from afar, but never been privy to the process where a female sat in front of a vanity and readied herself.

And somehow, this felt more intimate than all the rest.

You’d been hesitant about attending the long-haul mission when you learned it would just be you and the guys, but Azriel and his brothers consciously accommodated you right from the start. Before the various dinners and galas, Cassian would train until the very last moment to avoid making you feel rushed. He’d come in 15 minutes before the time to leave, throw on a suit and make some snippy joke about his exhaustive beautifying process. Rhys would be in and out of the room, ensuring all arrangements were taken care of, then savour his time getting ready which actually was exhaustive.

Azriel? He always had reports to go over that kept him strictly in the room. Kept him where he could sink into the luxury of watching your routine unfold.

Fools envied those who found mates for the companionship, the physical intimacy, the assurance of partnership. That’d been what Azriel ruminated on when he watched Rhys love Feyre, Cassian love Nesta. A fool indeed, because he’d never even considered this side of things.

It put entire fantasies in his head. How it would feel to have this routine with you—where you were his. He’d be watching it all happen from his bed. You’d be this comfortable in his room. Take up space in his life. A life where this was his to claim.

Even Mor—all his years of aching for her—any overlapping missions, and she’d kept him from seeing this side of her. There was truly no instance where he’d been let in this way. No relationship or lover where he got to see and learn it.

He’d been memorizing it. It was always a bath first that you’d come out of smelling intoxicating. Gleaming skin beneath a thin dressing robe that ended above your knees. It took a while for you to feel comfortable sitting in the shared room in just your robe, but it took Azriel even longer to be normal about it. To rid himself of thoughts about what stayed on underneath it, or what wasn’t on at all. He didn’t miss the blush that coloured your cheeks when you’d come out, from the heat of the bath or the awareness of your undress. A blush that Azriel matched when he’d look elsewhere, trying to avoid discomforting you, to avoid letting Cassian or Rhys notice his attentiveness.

Next was the dressing table component, where you were currently seated. Your robe sinfully inched up your legs when you lifted your arms to fuss over your hair. Arranging pins into various places. The focus in your eyes he’d catch in the mirror made the thoughts eddy out of Azriel’s brain.

So, so pretty.

A pinch between your brows as it slowly fell into place right. It took a week before you began comfortably playing your symphonia during the routine. Quietly, even though Rhys insisted it didn’t bother anyone. Azriel shuffled his papers, listening to the music that you faintly hummed along to. A breath of feminine exasperation left you that drew his eyes up—you were done with the hair. Tired from the effort.

Azriel bit back a smile at the labour of it all.

His favourite part was next—the cosmetics. Face creams first. A little perfume oil roller down the length of your pretty throat. Intention behind every brushstroke on your skin. Precision in shading beneath cheekbones. He shamelessly looked up to catch the part where you smiled at your reflection to set the rouge on the apples of your cheeks. Looked away again.

Kohl smudged into your lash line. Smaller brushes to sweep pigment on your eyelids. You didn’t notice his glimpses, too focused on the accuracy. A miniature comb you applied to your lashes, brushing upward and coating them black.

Your most beautiful feature, those hypnotic eyes.

He listened carefully for the click when you opened your lip rouge. He glutinously watched you apply colour to your sensuous mouth.

What he’d give to feel that motion he witnessed, the drag forward and back across your lips beneath the pressure of the rouge. The plush he could see—could practically feel. Colour he could envision smudging prettily with his thumb.

He cast his gaze down again. A composing deep breath, nearly shuddering.

Rhys cleared his throat, making Azriel’s head snap to him where he was sitting at the desk. He’d been getting dressed. Azriel didn’t even notice he’d sat down. A hateful smirk pulled the corners of Rhys’s mouth up. Azriel glared, returning his focus to his reports.

You admired your completed work, checking the presentation from various angles. Azriel would stare at the angel in the vanity too if it weren’t for his bastard brother making silent insinuations to his side.

He was spared when Cassian entered the room, looking at you, and releasing an inflated sigh of relief. “Thank God. We can let you out into the public again.”

You laughed mirthfully. “I’d say the same about you, Cass, but you could use a little work.”

He only approached you, crowding your space. “Can I get some of that?” he nodded to your products.

You laughed again, scooting for him to unceremoniously squish at your side on the tiny bench. You dolloped something onto your fingers, twisting to smear it onto his face, grinning.

“Azriel wants some too,” Rhys chimed in.

His heart faltered.

You glanced back, meeting Azriel’s gaze, brows high. He had to clench his jaw to keep down any reaction. Your beauty stunned him, and whatever Rhys was playing at, whatever you were going to do—

He was too startled by the suggestion to think to deny it. Too late, he realized, his silence implied agreement.

Somewhat bashfully, you rose in answer, product in hand.

Azriel remained frozen as you approached him. Both his brothers watched, but all he could care about was the homecoming he felt when you sat next to him on the bed.

Did you have any idea how profoundly personal it felt?

That feeling of Déjà vu befell him again—whatever version of this domesticity existed in another life where this was his. You were indeed on his bed, more bare than not. About to touch him like he was all yours.

That part bore the most truth, in this life and whatever other lives he was getting visions of.

You sat close enough that the skin of your knee tested his focus. It was just moisturizer that you’d squeezed onto your fingertips, but God did it feel like something precious, or maybe it was the sense of reverence you put into anything you touched. He held his breath as you raised your hand and gently smudged the cream across his cheekbones.  

Azriel felt like a teenager all over again, heart soaring at the tenderness.

Eyes focused, you leaned closer. Your other hand came up to gently cradle his face, thumbs stroking the product more intently into his skin. He hoped you couldn’t hear his heart as you stroked across his cheek a third time. Warm and soft. Azriel savoured the proximity. How even more devastating you looked up close.

“There,” he felt your breath softly puff onto his cheek. You retracted your hands, bracing yourself on his bed.

“Thank you,” he muttered lowly. The two of you remained for a beat. This time, Azriel didn’t try to hide his stare.

You finally broke it, seeming to recall the intrusive observation of your viewers. You rose, heading to the bathroom.

He couldn’t care less about his brothers’ prying eyes. Not with your warmth still sinking into his skin.

So, so familiar.

When the bathroom door finally opened, he snapped out of his thoughts. You’d changed into your gown. Your eyes found his immediately, chin marginally dipping under his gaze. He noted your slight shiver, and he allowed himself to wonder if you too felt the strange air. Charged with false nostalgia.

You only shook it off, smiling at him.

He felt it prickling again as he drank in the sight of you. Like flashbacks from another future. Something in his chest tightened. Likely the injury of tasting this domesticity already setting in, it seemed.

He only smiled back.

He’d figure it out later.

~  

taglist: @iimisty-a @feyretopia @riddlesb1tch @cullenswife @reiincarnatiion @sfhsgrad-blog @answer-the-sirens @mrstangerinejohnson @marigold-morelli @courtofjurdan @azriels-mate123 @emotionless-lover @marina468 @slvtherinseeker @owllover123 @banasheefan56 @nyotamalfoy @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @lilah-asteria @bakananya @deep-forest-creature @itsswritten

[assriels]

honeyed temptations

pairing: azriel x reader 

word count: 2.2k

warnings: some smut and suggestive language (mdni 18+ only pls!!), swearing, azriel is whipped for u but is also very stubborn, domesticity/fluff

summary: despite azriel’s relative indifference to most things, he absolutely, undeniably hates the heat. and fucking loves when you wear sundresses.

a/n: continuation of my ongoing headcanon that azriel is actually kind of a stubborn baby, especially with his mate; i have a summer oneshot for cassian coming out soon! <3

masterlist

banners by @/cafekitsune <3

Azriel was fucking furious. It was like the sun had a personal vendetta against him, determined to steal any and all comfort from him as he baked in the hot morning sun in your shared bedroom.

Peak summer in Velaris was nothing to scoff at. Though the Night Court was hailed for the beauty of its moon and stars, the same could not be said for its seasons. It was a solar court and that meant that its moon waxed and waned through the full dearth of the seasons. And summer just so happened to be Azriel’s least favorite. 

Though he could handle the strikingly cold winters the Night Court had to offer — it snowed quite heavily in Illyria, afterall — the heat of the summer was unbearably oppressive. It didn’t help that his current residence was the House of Wind, built high on a mountain cliff where the heat rose and was entirely too close to the sun. Not even the House’s breeze helped staunch his somewhat over exaggerated agitation at the rising temperatures. 

It was still morning, but it seemed that the sun had decided that it would be especially insufferable today, showboating its prowess even at 9 in the morning. 

“C’mon Az,” you implored, gentle hand poking his bare shoulder. “Rhys is here, we have a meeting.” 

He pouted at you from where he was sprawled out on the bed, not having bothered to get up — or put clothes on — despite having been awake for an hour now. He rolled onto his side to get a better look at you, hoping that if he pouted enough you’d have mercy on him and let him stay naked and as cool as possible; the thought of putting on clothes — most of which he owned were black — made Azriel’s head ache. 

“‘s too hot.” 

You huffed a laugh at his childlike petulance. Who would have guessed the feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court couldn’t handle a little heat? 

“You’re being a baby,” you chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed as you attempted to negotiate with your mate to get out of bed. 

It was then that he took stock of your appearance. You had always been much less bothered by the heat than he was — and much more functional in it — and so your morning routines were never disrupted. You had already bathed and gotten ready, pretty little sundress skimming your curves as the hem tickled the skin on your legs. 

“You look nice,” Azriel noted with a hum of appreciation. Ordinarily, he would’ve reached over and pulled you on top of him to make both of you late for Rhys’s meeting for an entirely different reason, but he couldn’t fathom getting any more sticky and sweaty than he already was, so he resisted. Instead, he opted for toying with the hem of your dress in contemplation.

“Is this new?” He asked, taking in the sweet honey yellow linen and thin straps. You nodded your head and smoothed your hands down your front, fixing the neckline of your dress in a way that had Azriel’s eyes burning holes through your skin. 

“Do you like it? I bought it when I went out with Feyre the other day.” You intentionally left out that you had bought it with the explicit purpose of using it to tempt your mate out of bed, knowing that he always needed a little bit of incentive in the summer. 

Assessing hazel eyes tracked the familiar planes of your body, face lit with an entirely different kind of heat now, “Yeah, I like it.” 

His gaze lifted to yours and you nearly gave into him. The adoration in his eyes and the blush high on the apples of his cheeks was mesmerizing, “You’re very pretty, you know.” 

Azriel’s unfiltered affections for you always made your heart beat quicken, and your attention shifted to his hand resting comfortably on your thigh, thumb drawing innocent circles on your skin. You bent over to kiss him briefly in thanks before patting his hand and getting up off the bed. 

You could’ve sworn you heard Azriel whine in protest, but it was drowned out by the sound of you sifting through the dresser, no doubt searching for clothes to throw his way.

He watched you from his spot on the bed, eyeing the way the hem of your dress billowed from your waist and just barely covered the curve of your ass. He was convinced that he could stare at you for an eternity and still find new parts of you to marvel at. 

Before he could get too lost in his greedy appreciation of your beauty and the stunning way your dress complimented every curve and dip of your body, you were tossing clothes at his face.

“Stop staring and get dressed!” You laughed, “You know Cass is gonna give you shit for being late. Again.”

It was no secret to those closest to Azriel that he was an absolute terror when the summer rolled around. Though it only took a week or two for him to adjust and become begrudgingly functional again, the days leading up to his revival were always a source of great amusement to the Inner Circle. Ah, the perfect Shadowsinger finally reveals his flaws, Cassian would consistently tease.

He only groaned in response, rolling onto his back once again to stare at the ceiling. 

You sighed. Truthfully, you found this side of him endearing – and quite funny – but you knew he had a job to do and nothing would get done unless he was, at the very least, clothed. Sauntering over to the bed, you looked down at him with your hands on your hips. You were met only with a stubborn look in return; you could’ve sworn you glimpsed the ghost of a defiant smirk curving his lips, “Make me.”

You reeled at his challenge. Fine, you would make him. 

The bed shifted as you straddled him on all fours, careful not to let any part of you touch any part of him. His hands came up instinctively to grasp your hips as he didn’t even try to hide his triumphant smile. But you wouldn’t let him get away with it, at least not now.

You encircled his wrists in your hands, guiding them above his head to pin them to the pillow. Both of you knew he could easily wriggle out of your grasp, but Azriel was aware that this was riling you up just as much as him so he conceded. Allowed his beautiful mate to do whatever she pleased.

“Don’t touch,” you commanded in his ear, punctuating your words with a slow swirl of your tongue along the shell of his ear. “If you listen, I promise I’ll be so, so good for you.”

Unexpected emotion flooded his chest as he resisted the urge to break the tension with his affection for you. You were already so good for him. In more ways than he could have ever wanted, more ways than he ever imagined. But he kept his mouth shut, and focused only on the way he could feel the hem of your dress kissing his skin as your mouth nipped at sucked at all the places that drove him insane. 

“C’mon, Az,” you cooed, licking a sinful path up his neck before you blew on his skin, reveling in the way goosebumps rose on his flesh despite the sweltering weather. “Get up for me, huh?”

He didn’t miss the double entendre as you tracked a scathing wet trail down his body, your tongue — frustratingly — the only part of you touching him. He was being difficult and you were making him pay for it by teasing him in ways only you knew how to. Azriel groaned low and deep when your cool breath hit right beneath his bellybutton, abs flexing as he willed himself to maintain his composure. You still weren’t touching him, and he was already embarrassingly hard, body desperate to feel your skin on his. 

His brow furrowed with concentration and lust as he met your gaze right before your lips puckered and you took the head of his cock – pretty and swollen and throbbing just for you – into your mouth. Azriel’s head flopped back onto his pillow as he loosed a long, deep breath, a cross between a sigh and a moan so pleasing to hear that you nearly forgot your initial intentions. 

One well placed stroke of your tongue had your eyes meeting his yet again, all dark pupils and a thin ring of gorgeous hazel. You were the picture of perfect seduction, pretty lips split open on his cock, bent over him in such a way that gave him an unobstructed view of your cleavage beneath your dress. You released him with a sinfully wet pop! as you pulled back and smiled at him, sweet and teasing before you blew gently on his tip. Azriel shuddered.

Oh, Mother above. He was milliseconds away from flipping you onto your back and tearing your godsforsaken dress right off you — or maybe he’d keep it on — but you were faster, jumping just out of his reach and off the bed, as if you hadn’t just addled his mind with fantasies of all the ways he could fuck you in that dress. 

The wicked smirk of satisfaction curving your lips told him that you’d had your intended effect. Azriel was barely able to recalibrate his bearings in time for him to notice you heading towards the door. He sputtered in disbelief, “Where are you going?”

Before you traipsed out the bedroom door, you turned back to look at him, “To be continued, mate. After you get dressed.”

When you shut the door behind you, Azriel could have sworn he heard your giddy, maniacal laughter echo in time to the sound of your footsteps down the stairs. Now he had two problems: 1) he was still hot as the fires of Hell and 2) he was achingly hard and knew he’d have to make a concerted effort not to look too long at you in that dress all day if he wanted to cling to what little composure he had.

He sighed as his shadows swirled around his ears, barely offering any reprieve from the heat. 

Pretty mate. So, so pretty. Everyone thinks so. 

Make that three problems: 3) Cassian would be making innocent comments about you looking so good in that dress just to irritate him. 

The possession roiling around in his gut – courtesy of the mating bond – was his final straw as he scrubbed a frustrated hand down his face. Fucking fine, he would put the damn clothes on. 

☾𖤓 epilogue ☾𖤓

“Where’s that overgrown child you call a mate, anyway?” Cassian quipped after you made your appearance in the dining room for breakfast. 

“Exactly where you think he is,” you laughed over a bite of toast.

“What’s wrong with Azriel?” Feyre implored innocently, “Is he not feeling well?” 

Rhys chuckled and shook his head, “Azriel is not very fond of the summer—“

“That’s an understatement,” you and Cassian mumbled under your breaths in tandem.

“—and it’s a nightmare getting him to do anything in heat like this. But luckily we have Y/N.”

Before your High Lady could ask the question on the tip of her tongue, Cassian stole a piece of bacon off your plate, ignoring the way you protested, “I mean, you’ve seen how whipped he is Feyre. He’ll do anything if Y/N even suggests she wants him to. Az only gets out of bed in the summer because she asks.”

In retribution for your stolen bacon, you speared the rest of Cassian’s eggs and forked them into your mouth before he could inch away from you. You didn’t respond, knowing all too well that Azriel actually would not get out of bed even if you asked, leaving you to resort to other…tactics. 

“I’m not a child, you know.” Came Azriel’s petulant interruption as he greeted you with a brief kiss to your head and the rest of his family with a grunt of acknowledgement, “I can do things on my own, in case you forgot.”

“We’ll stop calling you one, once you stop acting like it,” Cassian taunted.

Azriel’s scoff was his only response as he sat down next to you at the table, plating two pieces of bacon in front of you to replace the one he knew Cassian had no doubt probably taken. You smiled up at him gratefully, and despite the still sweltering heat that had only seemed to have gotten worse as time progressed, he smiled back. 

Feyre was in awe; it was like the heat had melted away his stony exterior, leaving the real Azriel exposed for everyone to see. Feyre met your gaze across the table, a mischievous glint in her eyes that told you she was more than privy to the extraneous measures you had taken to coax your mate out of bed.

“How do you do it?” Cassian not-so-quietly whispered to you. 

“I have my ways,” you responded cryptically with a smirk as Azriel’s hand ventured beneath the hem of your dress, squeezing your thigh.

You would most definitely be paying for your little shenanigan in the bedroom later.  

[itsswritten]

wings

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff

Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

Wings Universe - More from this world.

"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.

You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 

Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 

If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 

"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.

"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.

“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.

Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.

Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.

The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.

 𓇢𓆸

Mor, Feyre and Nesta.

It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.

The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.

A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.

The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.

"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."

“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.

You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.

They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.

"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.

Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.

 𓇢𓆸

Cassian.

Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 

On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.

Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.

"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.

Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.

The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"

You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.

"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.

“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.

Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.

"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.

"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.

Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.

"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.

"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.

You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.

Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.

Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.

 𓇢𓆸

Rhys and Nyx.

“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.

You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.

Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.

Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.

Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.

Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.

You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.

As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.

His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.

"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.

Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 

"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.

"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.

 𓇢𓆸

Azriel.

“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.

You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.

You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.

But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.

As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.

You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.

"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.

Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 

“That’s it my love, that’s it…”

Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.

Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 

"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 

Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.

"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.

"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."

Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.

"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."

Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.

 𓇢𓆸

As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.

"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.

"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."

You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.

"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.

You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"

"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.

Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.

"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.

"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.

"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.

Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.

You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.

"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.

Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”

Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.

They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 

“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.

But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.

No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.

A glow they were forever grateful for.

a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3

Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x

[hattiewritesalot]

Poison

Azriel x Reader

Summary: At an event hosted by High Lord Beron, Azriel's closest friend Y/N seems to be incredibly wasted. The only problem? Azriel knows that she doesn't get drunk. Ever.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, poison, vomiting, a drunk love confession, a bit of angst but it is all in all quite fluffy

A/N: So this may or may not be inspired by the scene in Wicked King where Cardan gets poisoned... enjoy!! :3

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

Y/N is, as always, on high alert as she follows Rhys into the ballroom. Something combined with her dislike for social events and her lack of trust for the High Lord of Autumn meant her eyes and ears were everywhere, keeping constant watch over everything. Azriel’s large hand gently splays over her bare back, the rough fingers a gentle reminder that he’s there, and possibly to tell her to stop being so tense. She shoots a glare at her best friend, who responds with a badly-concealed smile.

She’s dressed in black, they all are, as is custom in the Night Court. Her dress is floor length, the black satin offering a nice hold around her figure, the neckline a low plunge, and the slit on her left side allowing her some freedom. The fabric is littered with silver threads and diamonds, meant to represent constellations, and also to match the sparkly heels on her feet. She looks pretty. She feels it.

A servant welcomes them warmly, almost immediately offering the group a drink of champagne, which she takes. Cassian snorts, and teases her for taking the only glass that the poor servant had, but she rolls her eyes and takes a sip.

She rarely drinks. She doesn’t like it. She’s seen enough of the boys’ drunk shenanigans to be put off it for a lifetime. She usually stays sober, if not tipsy, whenever they go to Rita’s, opting for escorting a stumbling Rhys back to Feyre rather than being the one stumbling.

But one drink won’t hurt. Not tonight. Tonight, she’ll need it.

The Inner Circle split up around the room, Azriel hot on Y/N’s trails, scarred fingers just barely tracing her bare shoulders. She sighs, leaning against a wall, him doing the same. “Time check?”

Azriel snorts. “You’re the one with the watch.”

She clicks her tongue, and checks the time, leaning back with a groan. “Two more hours of… this.”

“Always a ray of sunshine.”

“Says the shadowsinger.” she grins. Azriel was the first person she’d met in the Inner Circle, and coincidentally, her closest friend. They’d been attached at the hip the moment she’d introduced herself. They know everything about each other, inside and out. 

She’d never admit it, but her heart longed for the Illyrian. He was always so clever, so considerate. And, not to mention, his sharp features and hazel eyes made heat rise in her cheeks; hot, blissful, lovestruck heat.

“I think Cassian wants me for something.” Azriel muses, tipping his chin towards where Cassian was very unsubtly gesturing for him to accompany him. Y/N narrows her eyes at the redhead he’s standing with, and laughs. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that were Eris Vanserra. Good luck, Az.”

Azriel groans, playfully tugging her hair as he walks over to his brother.

All alone, now. She drinks her champagne, downing it almost immediately. She liked champagne. It never got you too drunk, never made you too irrational. “Enjoying the festivities, Y/N?” Beron’s voice purrs out from behind her. She forces a smile.

“I’d say yes, but it appears I’ve run out of champagne.” The High Lord cocks a brow at her words, and offers her another glass with a different, more vibrant liquid. “Try this. It’s exclusive to the Autumn Court. I believe you’ll enjoy it, it’s not too strong.”

She eyes the glass, before taking it, taking a sip. It’s a subtle flavour - fruity, slightly bitter. “Thank you, my lord.” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he walks away. 

Cauldron, this drink is good. She drinks every last drop, and places it down on the table next to her, looking for a bottle of the same-

Oh. Oh. This is fun. Fun, fun, fun!

Why isn’t she having fun! Tonight is amazing!

An uncontrollable giggle tears from her throat, the sound throwing her off slightly as wave after wave of lucid dizziness hit her. She laughs, clutching her chest. This is so fun!

Where’s Azriel? Is he having fun? Oh, she loves him. Loves him so much. Where is he!?

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

Azriel cracks his neck, obviously not wanting to engage with the eldest son of the High Lord, who clearly would rather be anywhere else. Cassian is long gone, with the excuse of seeing Nesta, and now Azriel has been left to deal with Eris. This could not get any worse.

Until it does.

Y/N beams at him, tripping over her feet to get to him, stumbling as she slumps into his arms, snorting and giggling. He freezes. Eris chokes on a laugh. Her hands reach up to grab his face and tug at his hair.

“Y/N?” he murmurs, taken slightly off-guard by her strange behaviours.

“Azzy!” she squeals, laughing and kissing his cheek. Eris cocks a brow. “Looks like your little Y/N’s had too much to drink.” His words echo around Azriel’s head. No, that can’t be. Y/N doesn’t like drinking. And why would she get drunk here of all places? And why-

His heart sinks. Her pupils are dilated. Her body is trembling. Her skin is turning clammy. 

This isn’t alcohol. It’s poison. 

His eyes go wide as he pulls her form into his arms. “Y/N?” he mumbles, a little firmer now. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, silly!” she squeals. Eris laughs again, and Azriel’s head whips towards him. “What the fuck did you do to her!?” The eldest son’s eyes widen at his harsh, almost growling tone. 

“Me? I’ve done nothing. She’s just drunk, shadowsinger.” He sneers at him down his pointy nose. Azriel clutches Y/N closer, ignoring all of her babbles as she squishes his cheeks and tugs his dark locks like a child. 

“I love you!” she squeals. “I love you sooooo much. So much. I wish we were mates.” she slurs. Azriel takes a shaky breath at her words, and Eris gestures to her flailing form. “See? Drunk.”

“She’s not- she’s not drunk, she’s- fuck, where’s Rhys?” His tone is desperate as he searches for the High Lord. Y/N’s knees start to buckle, but he wraps her arms around her thighs. “Stay with me, sweetheart, you’re gonna be okay.” He manages to catch the attention of Rhys, whose eyes go wide at the sight of Y/N’s slumped form, and he rushes to them. “What-”

“She’s been poisoned.” Azriel chokes out, panic surging in his veins as he hugs his girl as tightly as he can to his chest. “We- we need to get her out.” Rhys takes a breath, and seems to send a message to Feyre, because she starts to round everyone up. “She’ll be okay, Az, just calm down-”

“I’m not going to calm down! She could die!” He snaps. Rhys backs off at the protective gaze in his brother’s eyes. “Get her back to the Night Court, I’ll sort out here.” Azriel hooks one arm under her knees and the other on her back as he closes his eyes, winnowing back to Velaris. 

She squirms, shoving herself onto the cold floor of the Moonstone Palace, and she pukes, gasping and gagging. He shushes her gently, his shadows swirling around her and stroking her hair back as she retches. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Get it all out.”

As she vomits, his mind can’t help but flick back to what she said in the Autumn Court. ‘I love you!’ ‘I wish we were mates.’ His heart flutters at the recollection, but he silently growls at it to shut up. She’s been poisoned. Her head isn’t right. She was probably just saying words for the fun of it. She doesn’t mean it. She doesn’t mean it.

But still…

No, heart, stop it.

He pulls her up against his chest when she’s finished, gently rubbing her back. She sobs, slurring unintelligible words. He kisses her sweaty temple and carefully carries her up to her room, murmuring sweet nothings to keep her calm, but her body thrashes. Her eyes are rolling back. His hands are shaking. 

He just about manages to get her writhing form onto the bed when Rhys arrives, Madja hot on his trails. “She’s been poisoned?” she asks. Y/N screams in response. Rhys winces at the noise, but the expression worsens at the fury on Azriel’s face.

“Azriel-”

“Go on.” He growls. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t storm back in there and kill them all.”

“Because first of all, that’ll be a lot of paperwork for me, and second of all, I don’t think Y/N wants you to leave.”

Rhys is, frustratingly, right. Y/N has taken it upon herself to latch onto Azriel’s arm, clutching him and mumbling profusely, cheek squished against his bicep. He sighs, and gently pats her hair, shooting a glare to the High Lord of Night in the process.

He sits with her the entire time Madja treats her, his fingers tightly intertwined with hers. The healer concludes that she’ll be okay, but not without side-effects. She says he was clever to get her home so quickly. It wasn’t out of intelligence, it was out of fear.

She gives Y/N a sleeping draught, just so her aching body can get some rest, and then she leaves. Azriel stares at his best friend’s face, and figures he should do the same. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead, smiles at her fluttering eyes, and moves to leave.

Standing in the doorway, however, his eyes flit back to hers, the hazel of his irises connecting with her soft hues.

And then he feels it.

Like a string pulled taut, it snaps within his chest, flooding his veins with the pure bliss of finally having something to protect, to care for, to love. It roars throughout his body, his heart burning with the golden flames of the bond.

Mate.

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

PART TWO HERE!!

lol hmu I write for acotar now

[xmalfoyweasleyx]

Jealousy, jealousy - Azriel x reader

Summary: The whole inner circle is tired of you and Azriel flirting with each other, without acting on it. So Rhys decided to help his sister and Azriel with that, by planning a special birthday party for her. Based on this request.

Warnings: Smut! 18+! Az is jealous (but it's fluff)

Azriel couldn’t stop watching you. Again.

You were sitting on the couch in front of him at the townhouse, silently watching your brother, Rhys, talk. Azriel loved watching you, your shy, yet clever eyes were always so observant. On top of that, you looked beautiful tonight. You wore a dress that looked like it was made of starlight and your pretty lips were painted in a color that made-

“You’re daydreaming again, Az,” Rhys interrupted his thoughts, making Az’s eyes quickly avert his gaze from y/n, to her brother sitting next to her.

“Probably dreaming about his undying love for Truth-Teller,” y/n smiled. The shy, yet flirty smile that always made Az go week in the knees.

Before he could even try to suppress it, a wave of warmth filled Az’s cheeks, exposing his adoration. You were the only person who could make him blush like that. It has been this way since the first day he’d met you, when you were teenagers, which is already centuries ago. Rhys only introduced his sister years after he’d met Azriel and Cassian. She was still young, but so was he. It wasn’t hard to fall in love with her. The way she was hiding behind her brother, shy, yet curious, peeking behind his shoulder at the two Illyrians standing in front of her. Suddenly a smile was on her curious face, and the first thing you’d said was: “Are those shadows yours? They’re very beautiful.”

Since that moment, Az was a goner. He never acted on it though. Too scared, too insecure and too worried he would ruin your friendship. It had been the same for years. The flirting, the teasing. But never more than that. 

Until a few months ago. When the bond snapped.

In that moment, Azriel couldn’t be any happier. It all made sense now. But then he realized, it didn’t snap for you. You didn’t seem to know. And it happened all over again, he was scared. What if you didn’t want him as your mate? What if it would freak you out? And what if Rhys would hate him for it?

“You’re still staring at me, Azzie” he heard y/n’s soft voice, yet again interrupting his thoughts. He looked confused for a moment, as if finally realizing where he was. “Oh yes, I'm sorry, you do look beautiful tonight y/n, you can’t blame me,” he smiled nonchalantly. It was always like this, the flirting and the compliments. It was normal.

“You look great too Az,” you returned the smile. Another wave of warmth heated his face. He quickly tried to hide the flushed cheeks, when fortunately, Cassian guided the attention to him. “So, what are we going to do for your birthday tomorrow y/n?” Cas asked. 

“Oh, I don’t know, I guess we could go out or something? Nothing special, just like we always do,” you answered.

Rhys clicked his tongue at that. “Nothing special? My dear sister, I think you don’t know me that well then. We have the perfect surprise for you.” That was something new. “Do we?” Az asked confused. “Well, now I’m curious,” Feyre smiled.

What Az didn’t know is that the whole inner circle knew about his “secret” feelings for you, only Az and y/n were oblivious. Honestly, his friends didn’t know how the observant shadowsinger didn’t notice how obvious it was. He always gets shy and smiled with y/n. It was a mystery how he didn’t realize the fact he had a lovesick look all over his face when he’s watching her. So Rhys, the good brother he is, decided to come up with a plan. The easy strategies didn’t work, so he decided to use the one thing Az couldn’t hide, jealousy.

*******

When it was finally the evening of your birthday, it turned out Rhys’ surprise, indeed, was special. Your brother had decided to take you all to some dance show’ but it wasn’t some normal dance show, you realized when you saw the poster hanging on the door of the club. It were only male dancers. Male dancers with not so many clothes, it seemed. “Now I’m really curious brother” you sighed. “You’ll love it.”

Your brother was right, it was so much fun. You ate and drank with the inner circle, watching the show from your shared table. They even got you a cake with fireworks. But that wasn’t the only surprise.

You were all cheering when one of the dancers came to you. He was muscled and had beautiful, curly blonde hair. Before you could process what was happening, he grabbed your hand and pulled you on the stage with him. The male put you on a chair in the middle of the stage and started moving around you, your face flushed immediately.

He smirked at you, showing off his impressive moves. You couldn’t help but smile at him. It was fun to let go for a moment and enjoy the silliness of it all. The whole inner circle was cheering for you.

Az on the other hand, didn’t like it that much. He balled his hands into fists, when he saw the way the male grabbed your hand and guided you to the stage. He gritted his teeth, the way you blushed, the way he was moving around you and even touched you… And then you smiled at that male.

Az had to muster every ounce of self-control. He did all he could to not just get up on that stage, and bring you back to their table. He wanted to be the one to touch you like that. He wanted to be the one to make you smile. 

Even after the show was over and you were brought back to your original spot, Az couldn’t shake off the jealous feeling. His whole body was still tense and he had a dark look on his face.

“Something the matter, Azriel?” Rhys smirked teasingly, grabbing his friend's shoulder, knowing damn well why he was acting like this. “No.” Azriel answered shortly, taking another big sip from his drink.

******

Y/n was so tired when she arrived at her bedroom. She sat on her bed, taking her shoes off with a relieved sigh, ready to go to sleep. But suddenly she heard someone knock on the door. It was Azriel.

“Hey Az, what are you doing here?” 

“Just wanted to say goodnight after such a… special… birthday evening,” he grinned.

“Yeah it was… something,” you giggle. You sat next to each other on the bed in silence for a moment.

“Did you think he was hot?” Az blurted out. “Who?” you asked confused. “That guy, the one who danced for you,” he grumbled. “Oh, I-I don’t know, he was fine,” you faltered. 

Az didn’t answer. “Are you okay Azzie? You seem tense.” You rubbed his shoulder gently, trying to comfort him.

“I didn’t like it” he stated. Y/n was confused. “W-were you… were you jealous?” Az only sighed, looking down.

“It was just, he was… he shouldn’t touch you like that” he tried to explain without making his jealousy too obvious. You were disappointed for a moment, he probably just didn’t like it because he saw you as his little sister, you thought. Because he wanted to protect you. “I’m sorry Az,” you silently said. “No, no, don’t apologize y/n, it’s my fault, I’m acting stupid.”

“I get that you feel like this, you see me as a... sister, you feel protective over me or something, I get it Az,” you sighed. Azriel looked up, his hazel eyes carefully watching you. He frowned, “Do you really think that’s how I feel about you?” It’s silent for a moment. “I was jealous y/n, very jealous” he finally confessed.

“Y-you were?” you stroked his cheek softly, fingertips tracing the freckles down his neck. Azriel nodded, you looked in each others eyes for a long moment. His pupils dilated, a hungry look on his face. Then the room suddenly filled with the smell of your arousal. “You want to… you want to show me what you look like without that shirt then?” you hesitated. “Yeah? You want that?” he smirked. “Yes” you answered breathlessly. 

Az slowly took his shirt off, your eyes tracing the lines of his muscles hungrily. “Much better than that male,” you sighed. “C’mere” he groaned, surprising you by grabbing your hips and lifting your body on top of him in one move. You were straddling him now, arms tightly wrapped around his neck.

And then his lips were on yours, hungrily moving against each other. He grabbed your ass, squeezing it gently. A gasp left your mouth, “Azzie, Az please.” You started moving against him, pressed so close to each other, yet it wasn’t enough. 

“What do you want, baby?” he whispered against your lips. “I want you.”

“And what exactly do you want from me? Tell me y/n,” he groaned.

“Your cock, I want to feel you in me, Azriel, please” you begged.

“So pretty when you beg like that, darling. But not so fast.” He wrapped his arms tightly around your back and turned you around. You’re back now against the bed, with Azriel’s body hovering above you. His wings were spread wide and his shadows were moving around you. Silently asking their master for permission to touch you too.

They helped him with getting you out of your birthday dress, the soft tendrils caressed your skin so deliciously. The shadows danced around your whole body, touching you almost everywhere. You felt a familiar heat growing in lower stomach.

The male above you spread your legs wider, placing soft kisses closer and closer to where you wanted him most.

You grabbed his dark locks in your hand, eagerly trying to guide him to your pussy. “Patience, baby, patience,” he calmly said.

His hands traveled up your body, gently grabbing your breasts, his palm stroking your nipple. “So pretty for me,” he cooed. 

And then he finally pressed his soft lips against your pussy, a load moan left your mouth. He started to lick like a starved male. His lips softly wrapping around your clit, sucking messily. He then wrapped your legs around his head, locking in his face in between them. He groaned into your cunt, “Azzie, yes, feels so good”.

Then you noticed that he was grinding against the mattress, trying to find some relief too. He was already so turned on, just from the taste of your pussy. “I want you to feel good too,” you whined. Azriel replaced his tongue with his fingers, the scarred skin softly rubbing your clit, “Oh I already feel amazing, baby, don't worry.”

You gasped when you felt his finger enter your pussy, stroking the soft walls. Your breathing grew louder. “Yeah, you like that?” He chuckled. 

It felt amazing, but you wanted him in you, you wanted him pussy drunk, feral for you. So you could only do one thing, touch his wings. 

You gently stroked the less sensitive part on the outside of his wing, testing the waters. He groaned, “Oh baby, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

You decided to stroke a more sensitive part, making him grab your thighs harshly. Az sat up. “Come here, you dirty little girl,” he said huskily. “Do you want me to fuck you y/n? Is that what you want, huh?”

“Yes, please, yes” you whined.

“How could I deny that pretty face? My beautiful little girl,” he cooed, leaning in closer to press his lips against yours again. You helped him pull his pants down, his impressive length sprang free. You gulped. He was long.

"Don’t worry, if you want to stop we’ll stop” he murmured into the crook of your neck, kissing the skin gently. “No, no! I can handle it,” you claimed, your hand wrapping around him, eager to feel the soft skin in your hands. He groaned into your ear, “Shit, you have no idea how turned on I am right now.” You giggled, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, already soaking wet.

“Are you sure?” he whispered. “Yes, I’m sure Az, want to feel you” 

He slowly entered you, sucking your nipples as a distraction for the pain. But it was a good kind of pain, you wanted more. So you grabbed his ass, trying to push him deeper into you. "Don't... don't be scared, it feels good," you said in between heavy breaths.

“Needy little girl” he grinned. His rhythm picked up and his thrusts started to get harder. His hips slamming against yours

“You feel so good, this pussy is mine isn’t it? Only mine” he whimpered into your ear. “Yes, Az, my pussy is yours. I'm yours,” you moaned. Az started to fuck you harder, “Say it again” he demanded.

 “I’m yours, only yours Azriel” 

“That’s right, good girl,” he moaned, putting one of your legs over his shoulder. The new angle made you gasp. Your places your hands against his chest, your nails softly stroking down his abs.

Azriel was mesmerized, his eyes fixated on your swollen lips, the lips he couldn't believe he just kissed, and the way your tits bounced because of the force of his thrusts.

He looked so handsome like this. His messy hair falling over his face, his eyes half-lidded, the blush on his cheeks and the heavy breaths that left his mouth.

“I’m already so close Azzie,” you whined. "Already?” He teased. You nodded. “I want you to come with me,” you pleaded, one of your hands lifting up again to stroke the inside of his wing. Az moaned at the feeling, the arm that held him up collapsed beneath him, his body softly falling against yours.

His chest was now pressed against you, the position was so intimate. His thrusts started to get sloppy. “Baby, baby…” he whined softly in your ear. Both drunk on the feeling of each other.

His fingers circled your clit, making you moan his name like a prayer, over and over. The familiar feeling coiled in your lower belly, finally snapping when he nibbled on your earlobe. High-pitched moans filled the room, your orgasm washing over you like a big wave. Azriel moaned with you, his brows knitted together.

“Where do you want me? On your tits? On your pussy? In your pretty mouth?”

“In me, I want you in me Az, please,” you whined, craving to feel more of him, to be claimed by him. You wanted to be his the way no one ever was before. Az groaned in answer, heavy breaths tumbling out of his mouth. You felt him release inside your pussy, moaning your name against your cheek, riding out his high slowly. 

Azriel fell next to you with a loud sigh. His arms tightly wrapped around you. He placed a soft kiss against your neck and stroked your inner arm. “You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming about this.” he confessed. “Me too” you answered. You should probably talk about this, but for now, you just wanted to sleep. Comfortably in Azriel’s warm arms.

********

The next morning, y/n was watching Azriel sleep next to her. Her hand stroked his naked chest while her other hand played with his soft dark hair. He looked like an angel, laying there, so peaceful. 

And suddenly, she felt a tug in her chest. A thread, a feeling like no other. Y/n gasped, making Az’s eyes open slowly. “Good morning” he whispered with a smile. Y/n only stared at him.

She couldn’t believe it. He was her mate. Her mate.

“Y-you’re my mate” she whispered. Az sat up immediately, grabbing her cheek gently. “It snapped? It finally snapped for you too?” He whispered, his eyes getting teary. “You knew?” 

“I’ve known for a few months now, but before last night, I didn’t think you’d want me” he murmured. “Oh Az, of course I want you, I’ve loved you since we were teenagers and met in Windhaven, I’ve loved you since I noticed the beautiful, smart and compassionate male hidden behind those shadows,” you smiled. “I love you” he smiled, kissing you softly.

An hour later you went downstairs together. The rest of the Inner Circle was already in the living room, doing each their own thing.

Rhys’ eyes immediately went to your intertwined hands, an unreadable look on his face. “Rhys, before you say something, I want you to know I would never hurt your sister and I am-“ Az quickly tried to explain. But Rhys interrupted him with a voluminous laugh.

“Finally!” He smiled, getting up to face you both. “I’ve been trying to get you together for the last year, but you both were so oblivious” he teasingly rolled his eyes and opened his arms, hugging you both. “Yeah honestly Az, it was about damn time” Cassian smirked.

[readychilledwine]

hello!! please could i request one where the reader is an OG member of the IC and very close to azriel (she knows that he’s her mate, he doesn’t) and sister-like to the rest of the IC. once feyre and her sisters come about, she often confides with feyre so they’re also close.

anyway, there’s an important event for the reader on day and she expected the rest of the IC would join her (she invited them?) but no one turned up and she’s absolutely exhausted, emotionally and physically, by the end of the day.

when she’s back, everyone is together at the house having fun and one of them notices she so dressed up but looked exhausted. maybe someone says something snarky and there’s an argument. azriel defends the snarky person so reader and azriel have an argument (hurtful words towards the reader) and that’s when the mating bond snaps for az and he’s regretful. things happen but happy ending for the reader, az and the IC. thank you 🫶🏼💗

Odd One Out

Summary - After 500 years of friendship, the last thing you ever expected was the Inner circle to miss one of your symphonies. But you know what they say, time changes people.

Warnings - I warned you all to watch out for angst, right? Elain being catty, reader feeling lonely, Azriel being an idiot

A/N - I promise Bound by Fate is still coming. I'm just constantly rereading it and not happy with where it's at. It's probably because I needed this out of my system. I hope this is close enough to what you were looking for! It wrote itself, so I'm worried it may stray too far from the ask! Please let me know if it did.

✨️ Azriel Masterlist✨️

Odd One Out pt 2

Maybe you had asked too much again. You looked to where the empty seats for the Inner Circle and Archeron sisters sat one last time before moving forward. You had worked too hard on this symphony to let this stop you. You were the last to go on stage, the conductor in her gorgeous sparkling gown and heels. You were the picture perfect face of composure as you bowed before turning and raising your hands.

You were introduced to Rhysand at a young age, and the two of you were quickly friends, so when he became High Lord, a place at his side was handed to you without question. You were eloquent, elegant, and kind. You were perfect for the position of emissary, and you single handedly won him friendships and alliances among every court aside from Spring.

He had never stopped you from pursuing passion, though. Your father had forced you into harp lessons from the tender age of 4 until his untimely death. He sat by your side for hours, teaching you to speak through letters written on a sheet that so fee could truly understand. It was an escape that turned into a career. One Rhysand specifically built the amphitheater you currently stood on for. The music you wrote woke emotion on the High Lord and all of Velaris, quickly making you one of the most popular females in the City of Starlight.

No one enjoyed your music more than Azriel's shadows, though. Nor did anyone enjoy you the way they did. How they knew you two were mates while he sat clueless and doting on Elain would never make sense to you, but the shadow turning your sheet music for you tonight was at least a small comfort, even if your family, mainly his master, was not here in their resevered High box seats.

You were exhausted when your arms lowered for the close of the show. You stood to the side, plastering a small faked smile on your graceful features as you held your arm to the orchestra, signaling for their bows before taking your own and leaving. You were the last one there, sharing thank yous and goodbyes as you musicians left. You chose to be alone for a while on the harp that sat in your sound room at the theater. You had a song in your mind, and you needed to let it speak before it left. Even if it was created from a place of raw emotion. It was near midnight when you finished, leaving the new composition to sit until you returned tomorrow.

You could hear the drunken laughter the second you walked into the old Riverhouse, the one you and Azriel made home as the mates of the Inner Circle began occupying the other houses, and signed as you removed your heels and picked them up into white tipped manicured nails. "Y/n!" Cassian's booming drunk voice slammed into you as he did. "Where have you been, baby?"

It was Nesta who gasped, looking at the clock on the wall before whispering a soft oh no as she saw your dress. Nesta who covered her mouth, eyes beginning to water as she shook her head and stared. Nesta who glared to Feyre.

"Why do you look so dolled up?" Rhys had a slight flush to his face, a wide smile as he took you in. "Hot date?"

You couldn't help but stare, shaking your head as your throat tightened. "You all seriously don't remember." Rhys knitted his brow thinking, and his face slowly fell.

"Y/n Darling, I am-"

You put your hand up to him before he could finish, shaking your head as the tears actually fell. "Save it. Spare me your lies and excuses." Cassian looked to Nesta and then Rhys, his own face falling next as he remembered.

"The symphony."

"Was beautiful, regardless of my support system deciding wine and board games were more important than the first live art performance in Velaris since our high lord was captured." Your voice was shaking as you looked up, avoiding Hazel eyes that were wide in shock as every single ounce of heart ache you felt hit him.

The bond finally snaps, his shadows hissed. We've been reminding you all day. And now you've hurt our mate. Ours. We went. Where were you?

"Maybe if you were actually good at writing music, we would have remembered." Mor's glass of wine hit the floor as your breath stilled. Rhys felt his hands fall from Feyre's lap as she audibly said Elain's name in an insulted tone. Amren was immediately held back by Varian. "Obviously, if the people who you claim you're so important to did not see making time to go a priority, we did not miss much."

Cassian heard your breath shutter. You stared to Azriel, waiting for him to come to your defense and not realizing his silence was due to shock from the bond and Elain's sudden cattiness. "Very well. I see I am no longer wanted, and I will not stay where I am not wanted," the whisper was all anyone could hear as you turned and walked away. The door shut behind you, and as if the Mother truly hated you, rain began falling softly, and you made your way back to the amphitheater.

Azriel had never shoved someone off his lap as quickly as he did Elain in that moment. But it was Rhysand who spoke, "How. Dare. You." The High lord went to stand, grabbing his jacket. "When your sister was dying, I sent her y/n's music. The mobile you play for our son every night, is y/n's music. The music that plays in Hewn City is y/n's music. She is an essential part of my circle, my family. How dare you tell her that her passion, her joy, and her career mean nothing to us."

Azriel backed away from Elain. "Your true colors disgust me, Elain Archeron." He studied her, truly studied her for the first time as the door slammed shut following Rhysand's exit. "That is my friend, my closest friend. You just hurt her like it was nothing. Cut her so deeply you will never be able to repair it."

"Well, if she mattered so much you all would have remembered."

Feyre spoke then, between heavy sobs, "I wrote down the wrong date. I wrong down tomorrow night for opening night. We were going to take her to dinner. It was supposed to be Nyx's first concert. This is my fault."

"Again, proof it didn't matter." Elain sipped her white wine as if Feyre had all but solidified her opinion.

"Get out," the growl from Azriel took everyone by surprise. "Get out of my home. You are no longer welcome here."

He was out the door, running to catch up to Rhysand in the rain, but missing the High Lord. He entered the amphitheater drenched and in silence, sitting next to where Rhysand was in the dark.

You were on stage playing violin as you always did when your heart was breaking. Every stroke of the strings had the bond growing tight before you dimmed it on your end, as if each movement of the bow, each note, was you whispering goodbye. "She told me she is leaving," Rhysand rubbed his face next to Azriel. It was then he saw the tears staining the perfect features of the High Lord. "She said this is my last performance before she leaves for Dawn."

"There's nothing we can do then?" Rhysand shook his head at the question before his head fell into his hands and his shoulders wrecked into sobs. "She's my mate."

"I know," Rhysand looked to the stars. "I've known for years. She never said anything, and now she never will. What little piece we had left is gone. Her light had been blown out by Elain's statements."

"Let me-"

"Just please stop talking and let me enjoy this."

It was the song he had sent Feyre under the mountain. A score that read of hope through pain.

And hope was all Azriel could hold on to as you stood and bowed, winnowing away as soon as you were finished.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects

[silverfairywings]

— IN THE WAKE OF FLAMES. PT I

eris vanserra x archeron!reader

summary: even before you became fae, your favourite season was autumn. it’s a little hard to hide this when your least favourite newly appointed high lord has made it his life’s mission to be the most annoying male in your life.

a/n: not sure what this is but let me know if u want more lol

You’d think that hiding behind the Spymaster of the Night Court, a literal Shadowsinger, would allow you to blend in well enough to go unnoticed.

The auburn silk of your dress is a near perfect match to the grandeur of the Autumn Court ballroom you’re unfortunate enough to have to be in, and you tell yourself that the attempt at camouflage is the reason you were so drawn to the colour.

When Rhysand approached you and the rest of the Inner Circle with the invitation of a ball thrown by Eris to celebrate his newly inherited title of High Lord, your sister Nesta had dragged you out to shop for new dresses. You were adamant to wear an old gown until the dress caught your eye, the gold beads glinting in the light, almost mimicking a gently burning fire. The deep orange hue of the silk slip was muted ever so slightly by the sheer overlay, cinching at the waist before cascading to the ground and the wisps of fabric around your legs gave the illusion of sparks every time you moved.

Nesta had made a comment about the dress being perfect for Autumn Court and you had to physically restrain yourself from grimacing. You just liked the colour. It didn’t mean a thing.

Nesta and Feyre looked like perfect representatives of the Night Court and even Elain was donning soft shades of purple and blue tonight, a perfect embodiment of twilight. You loved your sisters, but you felt like you never quite fit in to the Night Court the way they had grown to. And you certainly felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb tonight.

Eris was definitely going to comment on the dress and you curse yourself internally, not having thought it through. He was jarring at the best of times, let alone a night that was solely dedicated to him. And you were dressed in the colours of his court.

You were extremely glad when Eris’ mother was the one to greet you all when you first entered the Autumn Court and not him. It allowed you to fully appreciate the beauty of his lands with unrestrained awe. Your sisters knew that Autumn had always been your favourite season, so the way you were so happy catching each falling leaf out of the sky was even more amusing to them considering they also knew how little patience you had for Eris.

That’s why you find yourself hiding behind Azriel’s wings tonight. As soon as you spot Eris making his way to greet Rhysand and Feyre, you sneak behind the Shadowsinger in an attempt to make yourself invisible.

“Seriously?” mutters the Illyrian, but he stays still for you all the same.

“Keep quiet,” you hiss, prodding him in the back. “You know very well how much he targets me. Gods, I thought he hated Cassian, but I seriously give him a run for his money.”

Mor, overhearing you, snorts into her cup. She creeps up next to you, lowering her voice to match yours. “You are so oblivious. He doesn’t hate you. He wants-”

“Might I interrupt the riveting conversation that I’m sure is going on behind the Shadowsinger’s wings?” you hear a voice drawl from in front. Your blood runs hot at being caught and you nearly burst into flames when Azriel starts to lower his wings, revealing you and Mor. She rolls her eyes at Eris’ attitude and walks away to talk to the pretty faerie in the green dress.

The years have softened the strained relationship between the Circle and Eris and none of them view him as a threat any longer. That doesn’t mean they find him any less irritating though.

Eris smiles at you when you cross your arms and clench your jaw, already feeling impatience with him bubbling up inside of you. He glances down at your dress and his lips quirk up a little higher. “Looking stunning as ever, Y/N.”

The others have already dispersed, and even Rhysand and Feyre have started to garner the attention of other important people they need to talk to. As they start to leave however, Rhysand speaks to in your head. Let me know if he’s bothering you too much. Just… try not to throw a plate at his face this time, please.

You glare at the back of Rhysand’s head. That was one time.

He doesn’t respond but you see his shoulders shaking with laughter for a millisecond before Feyre nudges him to behave in front of an Autumn Court official.

“Talking about me?” Eris asks, amused. You open your mouth to snap back at him, but notice the growing number of guests that are around the two of you now that the others have moved away. You bite your tongue for once. He is the High Lord now after all.

You plaster on a sweet smile. “Only good things… High Lord.”

Eris raises his brows at that, but chooses not to comment. He holds out his hand instead. “Dance with me.”

You’re about to laugh in his face and tell him absolutely not, but his request has caught the attention of a couple guests and they nosily look over in what you’re sure they think is a subtle way. “I’m a little tired. Sorry,” you say through gritted teeth, still smiling.

“Surely you’re not going to deny me such a small request on tonight of all nights?” he says softly, part mocking and part pleading.

You know for a fact he won’t force you to dance, but if you deny him in front of the other guests, it’ll undermine him and while you dislike him, you’re not that cruel. Plus, Feyre would probably have your head if you were to insult a High Lord in public. In private, she only ever laughs when you disparage him, but appearances are everything.

“Of course not,” you deadpan, reaching for his outstretched hand and trying not to react to the way the warmth radiating through his palm is warming your previously cold fingers.

He leads you into the crowd of dancing guests, placing his free hand on your waist as you rest yours on his shoulder, keeping a respectable distance. He rolls his eyes and tugs you forward so your chest is nearly flush against his own. When you glare at him, he merely smirks. “It’s a little hard for two people to dance when one of them is halfway across the room from the other.”

You hear a giggle from one of the guests near you and nearly whip around to glare at them. Eris catches the expression on his face and it’s as though he can read your mind with the way he’s holding back a grin. “My apologies,” you mumble, before lowering your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “Smartass.”

“I do so enjoy your pet names for me,” Eris teases, utterly unbothered. Every time you interact with him, you swear to yourself you’ll keep a cool head. And every time, you fail. “I like your dress.”

You narrow your eyes at the compliment, but since he hasn’t actually said anything insulting or with a double meaning like he usually does, you don’t have anything to be annoyed about and begrudgingly accept the nice words. “Thank you.”

“You look ravishing in the colours of my court.”

You step on his foot.

He hisses in pain, but the grin doesn’t leave his face when he sees that he’s succeeded in irritating you.

“I didn’t choose the colours on purpose,” you say, defensively. “I just happened to like the dress.”

“You know, you often happen to like Autumn colours,” he muses, expression turning thoughtful and not in a sarcastic way this time. “Or any colour that isn’t of the Night Court’s fashion. Tell me, do your sisters know how you long to find someplace you actually belong?”

Your stomach drops and you feel like you’ve been doused in freezing cold water.

“I wasn’t aware you were a Daemati, High Lord,” you say, scowling. Eris furrows his brows at the title and spins you out before bringing you back in, this time a little closer than before. “You’re wrong.”

“Stop calling me that,” he mutters, a hint of impertinence in his voice. It takes you by surprise since you assumed he’d be revelling in all the glory, the power of High Lord coursing through his veins. Instead, he sounds like a boy being denied his favourite sweets. “Call me Eris again.”

“No.” You frown at him, pulling back slightly to meet his stubborn gaze. “We’re not friends. You’re the High Lord of Autumn now and I’ll be addressing you as such.”

“What, I’m High Lord now, so you have to respect me all of a sudden?” he asks, tilting his head.

“Yes,” you sigh, already anticipating this conversation taking a turn you don’t want it to.

“You have to be pleasant with me?”

“Yes.”

“Listen to my commands?”

“Yes.”

His smile turns wolfish. “Then I command you to call me Eris.”

“I can think of a few other things to call you, if not High Lord,” you mutter, careful not to allow any eavesdroppers to hear.

“And while I’d love to hear them, I doubt they’d be suitable for the delicate ears of court officials.”

While he’s exactly right, the way his eyes twinkle with mischief tells you that he’s insinuating a completely different type of unsuitable and your cheeks burn.

“Don’t you ever tire of being so wearisome?” you say, drily. His eyes soften ever so slightly as they scan over your face.

“Don’t you ever tire of pretending?” he asks quietly, meeting your eyes determinedly. You don’t bother asking him to clarify.

“Why can’t you just mind your own business?” You try to snap at him, but the way his words hit you deep have all the bite leaving your voice and instead you sound imploring.

Eris doesn’t answer your question and just keeps going as the two of you dance. “My mother wants me to tell you that you’re welcome to visit any time, by the way.”

“I’ll let Rhysand know.”

“She didn’t say Rhysand, she said you.”

”What?” You look up at him, shocked. That was probably the last thing you expected him to say, “Why in the world would your mother want me to visit? She saw me hurl that plate at your head last month.”

“Yes, and she told me I probably said something to deserve it,” he grumbles, but without any real malice when talking about his mother. It’s clear as day that he has nothing but love for the sweet woman.

“She’s a smart one, your mother,” you say, grinning at the thought of Eris being reprimanded. You catch him watching you without speaking and immediately frown, not wanting him to think you’re actually smiling at him. Which you definitely aren't. “I still don’t understand why she wants me to visit.”

Eris shrugs, although his eyes stray from yours, and he’s seemingly bored with the conversation as he looks down to the floor as your feet move gracefully across it. “She likes your attitude.”

“My bad attitude?” you ask, wrinkling your nose in genuine confusion.

“Passionate,” he corrects you, meeting your eyes again, and you find no traces of humour in them. “And ‘fiery’ as she called it. Don’t feel bad for not being able to always control your emotions in front of others like the rest of them. You’re allowed to feel.”

Any response you might have had is lost to nothing and the silence stretches as your heart feels like it’s slamming against your chest. It’s a mix of fear and something else with the way he’s looking at you and you suddenly need to be anywhere else.

Clearing your throat, you step back in the middle of dancing and lower your hand from his shoulder to smooth down your dress. Your other hand is still ensnared in his and it lingers there while he speaks.

“If you do accept my mother’s invitation, you don’t have to see me if you don’t want to,” Eris adds and you try and listen out for any veiled mocking.

“Why do you even care?”

At this, his lips quirk up almost involuntarily. Slowly, his fingers start to loosen up around your hand and he begins to let go, faintly trailing his hand down your own as he does so. Instead of stepping away, he walks closer, stepping to the side slightly to lean down so his lips brush against your ear in a way that makes your breathing erratic.

“My mother was telling me that she saw you practically light up like a forest fire surrounded by the trees. She feels as though you should be able to stay longer next time,” he says in a normal voice before lowering it to a whisper. “She also overheard one of your sisters call Autumn your favourite season.”

Before you can protest and, let’s face it, lie to him, Eris calmly walks away and you know for a fact that the smug bastard is smirking at the way he’s succeeded in getting under your skin.

There’s no way you’re accepting his mother’s invitation, as sweet a woman as she is. You think about all the possible ramifications and decide to push the thought in its entirety out of your mind.

Nothing good ever comes from agreeing to dance with Eris. It’s extremely similar to playing with fire, you think.

[romanticatheartt]

Listen, I know Cassian is in pain (sorry boo </3) but,

Rhys... LFGNLDFKDLNKB He looks so sluty and I want to eat him!!!

cr: tonyviento on IG

[inkedinshadows]

Echoes of the Bond

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: part 2 of 3 of "A Helping Hand". When mates are reunited, Y/N grows curious about what the mating bond is, causing Azriel's brain to short-circuit.

Warnings: none I guess?

Word count: 3.7k

A Helping Hand (part 1)

֍֍֍֍֍

Y/N got out of the tub, wrapping her body in a soft towel.

For the last three weeks, she'd been able to take a bath on her own. Azriel had helped twice after that first time, and even Mor had tried when Azriel wasn't around. But Y/N wasn't comfortable with her there, not as she was with the Shadowsinger. Knowing she couldn't always count on him for something as basic as washing herself, she'd learned – or relearned, actually – how to do it herself. There were still bad days when the first few minutes in the water had her gasping for air, but they were now few and far between. And when they did occur, she usually imagined Azriel's heartbeat beneath her palm, just like the first time, and she'd calm down. She never told him that, though.

Sliding on a dress, she headed out of her room and toward the dining room. She was getting used to living in the House of Wind, almost looking forward to having meals with the Inner Circle. Elain and Nesta were still having a hard time adapting to this new life and refused to leave their rooms, and Y/N would visit them sometimes, but they'd never really been close. Out of the three sisters, Feyre was her friend, and she missed her. Things would be easier if she were back in the Night Court.

When Y/N entered the room, Azriel and Cassian were already there. She offered them a smile as she sat at the table, a plate of her favorite pastries appearing before her as soon as she did. Even after a month in Prythian, she was still trying to wrap her mind around magic. Real magic, right in front of her.

“How are you today?”

Y/N turned to Cassian with a small smile. “I'm feeling better every day.” She glanced at Azriel, who always seemed worried she might be lying about it. “And I haven't had any nightmares in a few days.”

Azriel inclined his head, a barely-there gesture she might have missed if she hadn't grown used to his subtle movements. Ever since he first helped her, she had become keenly aware of his every move.

“That's good,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her for a second longer before he returned his attention to his breakfast.

With Cassian's focus still on her, she picked up one of her pastries as she addressed him again. “And how are your wings?”

“Feeling better every day,” he answered, repeating her words with a mocking smile. He even extended them behind him to demonstrate the truthfulness of his statement. “Biggest wingspan getting back on track, I can tell you that.”

Y/N chuckled. “You have the biggest wingspan?”

“Oh, you bet I do.” Cassian's grin was nothing less than smug. “I could show you exactly how big–”

Azriel's snarl interrupted him. “Watch it, Cassian.”

But Cassian didn't seem particularly bothered. “Why? She asked,” he replied with a shrug. “I was merely offering her a chance to see for her–”

He was cut off by Azriel's low growl. Y/N looked at him, her brow furrowed in confusion at the reaction. She'd never heard such a tone from him before, never seen him so on edge. Glancing from one Illyrian to the other, she realized there might be something she wasn't aware of, or maybe wingspan was just a very sensitive topic for them.

Cassian lifted his hands up in surrender, finally picking up on his brother's rising irritation. “Relax, Az.” He glanced at Y/N, then back at him. “It was just a joke, brother.”

But Azriel still seemed tense, and Y/N reached over to him to place a hand on his arm. “Azriel,” she said gently, “are you alright?”

He’d always been there for her since she’d arrived at the Night Court, and she now wanted to do the same for him, even if she didn’t know what had triggered such a reaction from him.

Those beautiful hazel eyes slid to her hand touching him, then to her face, and he finally relaxed as he gave her a nod. “Yeah… sorry about that,” he murmured, casting an apologetic look in Cassian’s direction, receiving only a dismissive wave of hand in return.

As Y/N pulled back, a few tendrils of Azriel's shadows slithered between her fingers and curled around her wrist. Their master looked at them as if they were disobedient children and Cassian's eyes widened, but she only chuckled.

Shadows lingered in the darkest corners of her room, swirling under furniture or inside cracks as if they were trying to hide. But she knew they were there – she'd first noticed them one day when Azriel had brought her a tray of food, back when hunger was an unknown feeling and she didn't eat. Though neither she nor Azriel ever said anything about it, knowing his shadows were always with her was a comforting thought. But they'd never openly approached her before.

“They seem to like you,” Cassian pointed out, his voice muffled by the food he had just stuffed in his mouth.

Y/N watched the shadows linger around her wrist as a bracelet, a warm feeling sparking in her chest, there and gone as soon as the shadows hurtled back to their master. “I think they’re cute,” she said with a smile, her eyes meeting Azriel’s for a moment before they both looked away. She could have sworn a faint blush crept up his cheeks. It only made her smile grow.

Cassian seemed to notice it too, because he paused mid-bite. His eyes narrowed as he focused first on his brother, then on her, then on Azriel again. And then his jaw almost dropped, his eyes now widened.

Y/N was about to chuckle at the sight, but Azriel was even more serious than usual and just gave Cassian a short nod. She frowned, aware once more that there was some kind of silent conversation going on between the two brothers. But neither of them bothered to enlighten her, and she didn't ask. She was still new to their world, and to their group. They would have told her if it was something they thought she should know, she was sure of it.

They continued to eat their breakfast, though a somewhat tense silence had now settled over them. Azriel kept his eyes on his food while Cassian was miserably failing at hiding his grin as he glanced between the two of them. On her part, Y/N felt like anything she could say would be the wrong thing, so she didn't say anything.

Once they were done eating, she stood up, intent on heading back to her room or maybe stopping at the library Rhys had shown her a few days before. But Cassian called out her name and she stopped in her tracks, turning around in time to notice Azriel's warning look at his brother.

“Would you like to leave the House for a few hours?” Cassian asked her with a smile. “Az and I could show you around Velaris. You said you wanted to see it yesterday.”

“I did,” she confirmed, surprised by the offer.

Azriel was now watching her, more relaxed than a few minutes ago as he waited for her answer. And she didn't even need to think about it.

“I'd really like that, yes.”

“Good!” Cassian almost burst out of his seat and guided her towards the doors that led out onto the balcony, Azriel trailing silently after them. “Then I hope you're not afraid of heights.”

Y/N frowned. “Heights? No, why?”

It was Azriel who answered this time. “The easiest way to reach the city is by flight.” He walked up to her, standing so close that his scent enveloped her, and she had to fight not to close her eyes and breathe it in. “Will you trust me to fly you down?”

She smiled then, soft and warm. “Az, of course I do.” After everything he’d done for her, there was probably nothing she wouldn't trust him with. “You know that.”

A coughing fit drew her attention to Cassian as he tried to suppress a giggle.

“What’s going on with you today?” she asked with a chuckle.

“Oh, nothing,” he snickered. “I'll see you down there.” He extended his wings and with a powerful beat, he shot skyward.

Y/N turned back to Azriel with a raised eyebrow, but he simply shook his head. “Ignore him,” he said, his tone somewhere between amused and annoyed. “He acts like a big child sometimes.”

She chuckled again, but it quickly died when Azriel stepped even closer. He moved slowly, as if he wanted to give her all the time to change her mind and push him away, but she didn't. And then his arms were at her knees and her back, and he effortlessly picked her up and cradled her to his chest.

Her heart skipped a beat and she tried her best not to blush at the proximity, the gentleness he was holding her with. It reminded her of when he'd washed her, every movement careful and studied so as not to startle her. That feeling in her chest came back, but it was more like a gentle tug. Toward what, she didn’t know.

“Are you ready?” His voice was soft, like he didn't want to ruin the moment, but his eyes bore into her and she could only nod, her ability to speak momentarily forgotten.

Next thing she knew, they were airborne. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck for more support when she realized just how high up in the sky they were, the House of Wind growing smaller behind them. She forced herself to peer at the city below them. And she stopped breathing altogether.

If the view from the House of Wind was beautiful, then there were no words to describe it from right above it. Velaris was sprawled below them, shining in the light of the morning sun, the river flowing through it to the sea, and as they slowly descended towards the city, Y/N could make out people in the streets, the sounds of music and laughter filling her ears.

“It's… so beautiful,” she murmured, her awestruck tone bringing a smile on Azriel’s lips.

“You should see it at night,” he replied, flying around until he spotted Cassian waiting for them. “There's a reason why it's called the City of Starlight.”

“Maybe you could take me flying at night, then.”

She didn't know where the words had come from, why she'd suggested it. Azriel definitely had more important things to do than show her a night view of Velaris. Sleep seemed like a good option, for example. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away.

But Azriel landed and gently placed her on her feet again, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he pulled away. “Maybe I could.” There was no hint of playfulness in his voice. He really meant it.

Before Y/N could answer, Cassian approached and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “There you are! I was starting to think you two would never come down.”

Azriel shot him a glare and simply gestured for them to start walking down the street. Cassian was still speaking, but she wasn’t listening, too busy taking in their surroundings to focus on anything else. She'd never seen a city before – none were left in the human lands – and Velaris was bustling with life. She marveled at every shop, every little corner, every painted house.

They had reached the end of the street, a bridge over the Sidra now in front of them, when both Cassian and Azriel tensed. Y/N turned to them, mouth already open to ask what was wrong, but a small cry of surprise came out instead as Mor suddenly appeared next to them.

“We have to go,” was all she said, her voice firm. She was wearing black leathers like the Illyrians, as if she was ready for a fight.

The three of them exchanged a glance, Y/N even more confused than before. Azriel simply said, “I'll take her to the townhouse,” and scooped her up in his arms once more. She only had time to see Mor grab Cassian's hand and winnow away before they were soaring through the sky again.

“Az, what's going on?” she finally asked, turning her face to look at him.

His unreadable expression only caused her to be even more nervous, yet Azriel didn't answer until he landed on the doorstep of a house and set her down. “It's Feyre.” Her heart jumped at the words. “She's in the Winter Court. We're getting her back.”

The door opened behind them, and Amren appeared. She lifted a brow at the sight of Y/N, probably not expecting her, but she simply looked at Azriel. “Go. Now.”

The Shadowsinger looked at Y/N one last time, gave them a sharp nod, and shot to the skies.

“Come inside, girl.” Amren stepped aside to let her walk by. “Looks like we've got some waiting to do.”

~~~~~~

Waiting must be some kind of torture.

Apparently, Amren didn't know much about Feyre's situation. She only explained that Rhys had spoken mind-to-mind with all of them, saying his mate had left the Spring Court. Other than that, she had no idea if Feyre was fine or hurt.

But Y/N wasn’t worried just about her friend. She was worried about Azriel too, as if he weren't a centuries-old warrior who could definitely look out for himself. Maybe it was just Amren's presence that set her even more on edge. The short female made her nervous, perhaps due to the power that seemed to thrum from her, or the way she seemed to look at her as if she could see into the depths of her soul.

After an hour that felt more like a century, five figures winnowed into the living room. Y/N flinched, then shot to her feet and ran to Feyre, not caring about the dirt that covered her friend as she held her tight. Feyre stumbled back a step, probably caught off guard, but hugged her back a second later.

“Y/N.” She pulled back, scanning her head to toe. “Are you alright?”

Y/N almost laughed at that. She wasn't the one who'd just needed a rescue party. “If I'm alright? Are you alright?”

Feyre nodded, but her attention quickly shifted. “Yeah, I'm… I'm alright.” Her eyes were searching the room, as if looking for something. Or someone, Y/N guessed.

Letting go of her friend, Y/N realized there was another person with them. A red-haired Fae with a mechanical golden eye. She'd seen him before – that day in Hybern. Now that her recollection of those events was clearer, she remembered him claiming Elain was his mate just as she came out of the Cauldron, right before they'd shoved her in.

Cassian, Azriel and Mor were assessing him, as if deciding what to do with him. But she paid little attention to what was being said, focusing instead on the Shadowsinger, searching for any sign of discomfort or – gods forbid – wounds. She sighed in relief when she found none, unsure of why she'd been so worried in the first place.

The conversation halted, and she whirled to see Rhysand appear in the doorway. Feyre sank to her knees, tears in her eyes, and he was immediately there to hold her. “My love,” he whispered, though they all heard it in the silence. “My mate.”

Once again, Y/N felt a slight tug in her chest, and her gaze was drawn to Azriel. She found him already looking at her, but when their eyes met,  he seemed to shrink into his shadows like he wanted to disappear. She unconsciously rubbed her chest as she averted her gaze.

“Go find somewhere else to be for a while,” Rhys ordered them.

One by one, they filed out the door and onto the street. Azriel declared he was going to fly her back to the House of Wind, the others announcing they’d be waiting in Amren's apartment until given the order to return to the townhouse. And so Y/N found herself in Azriel's arms for the third time in the span of less than two hours.

Despite her increased heart rate, she felt like a bit of a burden, needing to be carried around by him when he obviously had more pressing matters to take care of. Yet she couldn't deny the safety she felt in his arms while they flew toward the mountain and its house.

“Az,” she said after a couple minutes, “that male you brought back with Feyre–”

He looked down at her. “Lucien?”

Y/N nodded. “That day in Hybern, he… he said Elain was his mate.”

Azriel aimed for one of the balconies of the House of Wind. “What about it?”

“Fey and Rhys are mates as well,” she added, her brow furrowed. The High Lord had referred to her friend as such many times over the last few weeks.

The Shadowsinger landed and set her down, looking at her as if urging her to continue, not sure what she was trying to say. But he seemed to be holding his breath.

Maybe she should just let him go back to the others and keep her questions for later. But instead she asked, “What is a mate?”

Azriel tensed. She thought he might not answer, but then he spoke, his tone carrying a hint of reverence. “Mates are… equals, in every way. It's a very rare bond, but it's so deep and powerful that it's cherished and honored above others. Even marriage.”

Y/N rubbed her chest, the spot where she kept feeling that pull. Azriel cocked his head, noting the movement. She should definitely let him go, yet he made no movement to leave, and she found herself blurting out, “Do you have a mate?”

His shadows stilled their constant swirling around him. Maybe it was rude to ask, or it was a sensitive topic for him. Whatever the reason, she shouldn't–

“I do,” he answered, right as she was about to apologize. “I've found her recently.”

Her heart dropped. She didn't know why the idea of him with a mate bothered her, but that damn feeling in her chest grew stronger, and she had to resist the urge to rub it again.

“How is she?”

Why couldn't she keep her mouth shut, why did she have to keep asking questions? Why did she even care if Azriel had a mate or not? She'd just learnt what that meant anyway. At least her voice sounded soft and genuinely curious, not at all clipped – a small consolation.

“She is… kind, and gentle.” He spoke slowly, his words chosen carefully. But then his eyes softened and his shadows began to move again, a few tendrils stretching out towards her. “She's a lot like you, actually.”

All she took from his answer – what she chose to focus on, anyway – was that Azriel saw her as kind and gentle and that she reminded him of someone as important as his mate. Though it still stung a little, if she had to be honest. 

“Well,” she replied, her tone lighter as she took a step back. She smiled up at him. “She's lucky to have you, Az.”

She meant it. If he was even just half as sweet and caring with his mate as he'd been with her that first week after Hybern, then his mate was a really lucky girl. But the thought caused guilt to eat away at her insides. All those times she'd asked him for help – with her baths or to stay with her until she fell asleep – were all moments she'd stolen from him when he could have been with his mate instead. Every time he'd brought her food and checked on her, or even just spent a few hours in comfortable silence as she adjusted to her new life and body.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured, unaware of the flustered expression on Azriel's face after her last comment. “When you helped me, I… I never meant to keep you from her. I hope she doesn't–”

“Don't worry about it,” he cut her off, a small smile now playing on his lips. “I'll always be there to help you when you need it.”

Y/N smiled again, whispering a ‘thank you’, though she was still not entirely convinced. But Azriel extended his beautiful wings, ready to return to his friends.

“You know how to get back to your room from here, yes?” he inquired, glancing behind her at the doors that led inside. When she nodded, he continued, “I'll see you later, then.”

A beat of his wings, and he was gone.

With a sigh, Y/N turned to walk inside, mindlessly brushing that same spot near her heart.

~~~~~~

Azriel used the few minutes of flight to reel in his nerves.

What was he thinking, telling Y/N his mate was a lot like her? The question had caught him off guard, and his brain had stopped working. He couldn't very well tell her they were mates – not there, not like that – but he should have come up with some better answer.

She’s lucky to have you.

The words echoed in his mind. He knew she meant it, like she seemed to mean everything she said. But would she still feel lucky once she learned it was her, that she was the one who had him from the first moment he saw her a month ago?

The only thing he was sure about was that Y/N could feel the bond. He'd seen her rub her chest multiple times, always in the same place, right where he felt their bond in his own chest. She just didn't know what it meant. He couldn't blame her for it, not when she was still new to the faerie world.

Even as he joined the others in Amren's apartment, it was difficult to keep his attention on the conversation, on keeping an eye on Lucien, on what their next step would be. For the first time in decades, he was having troubles focusing, his mind constantly shifting to Y/N.

He couldn't go on like this. He had to tell her. He'd waited because she was still processing everything she'd gone through, but now she was feeling better. And she'd asked about mates. She deserved to know.

Azriel made his decision. Next time they'd be alone, he'd tell her the whole truth. Hoping she'd understand and not push him away.

He wasn't sure he'd be able to handle it.

֍֍֍֍֍

Read part 3 here!

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows

[flickering-chandelier]

I Love You, It's Ruining My Life

Pairing: Azriel x Bestfriend! Reader

Summary: Azriel and Reader have been best friends for years, and slowly Reader starts to fall for him. He eventually feels the same way, but after Reader overhears a conversation she wasn’t meant to, she has doubts about him.

Based on this request! 🩷

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, a little swearing

Work Count: 5.2k

You twisted around in front of the mirror, trying to look at the dress from every angle. “What do you think, Az?”

Your friend looked at you, his eyes trailing down your body, and wrinkled his nose. “No.”

“Really?” You faced the mirror again, cocking your head. “I think it’s pretty.”

“It cinches weirdly around your middle,” he said.

You studied yourself in the mirror again, realizing he was right. “Wow. See, this is why I bring you along. Who knew your spymaster focus would be so helpful for fashion.”

He laughed, throwing his head back against the couch he was sitting on, and you couldn’t help but smile. You always felt a twinge of pride whenever you could make the stoic shadowsinger laugh like that.

“So this one, then?” You asked, gesturing to the first dress you had tried on earlier. 

“That is the one,” he shot you a lopsided smile. “The poor fool won’t know what hit him.”

Later, you plopped down into the chair next to Azriel’s in the sitting room at the House, groaning. 

Azriel arched a brow in question. 

“You were right,” you sighed. “He was a fool.”

Az poured you some of the amber liquid he was drinking, handing the glass to you. “What kind of fool? Do I need to defend your honor?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

Laughing dryly, you said. “No, nothing like that. Just a lame date. I can’t believe I bought a new dress for that guy.”

He smiled sadly at you. “Hey, the right guy will go crazy for that dress.”

You winced, taking a sip of the drink. “I guess,” you grumbled.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms. “You know I won’t let you be all grumbly by yourself.” 

Smiling faintly, you rose from your seat and settled in his lap, resting your head on his shoulder, his arms wrapping comfortingly around you. 

“When’s it gonna happen for us, Az? When do we get to find what Rhys and Feyre have?” You asked, quietly. 

He sighed, leaning his cheek into the top of your head. “I don’t know. But at least you and I are alone together.” 

You laughed, and he tightened his arms around you slightly, clearly pleased. You felt your sad heart mending slightly as your best friend in the world held you long into the night.

---

A few days later, you sighed, pushing your food around your plate at lunch in Velaris with Azriel.

Azriel watched you, those hazel eyes calculating. “You’re not still moping about that date, are you?”

“I’m not moping,” you scolded him. “And no, of course it’s not about the date. He is not worthy of my sighs.”

The side of his mouth curved into a smile. “So, what is it then?”

Shrugging noncommittally, you said, “Honestly, I don’t know. I just feel…bummed.”

That smile of his dropped, his mouth thinning into a line. “Are you done eating?”

You blinked, confused. “Yeah, I think so.”

He tossed money onto the table, nodding his head to the side, indicating it was time to go. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” You asked, rising to follow him.

“You’ll see,” he said, slinging his arm around your shoulders as you walked. 

It took several minutes before you knew what he was planning and you grinned up at him as you realized where he was leading you. 

He smiled, kissing the top of your head as you neared your favorite ice cream shop. 

Your heart swelled as Azriel ordered your favorite ice cream. You should have known. Your parents had always taken you here when you needed a pick-me-up, and Azriel had continued the tradition, knowing it always made you feel better, at least for a little bit.

Gazing up at the man who knew you so very well, your heart began to crack.

---

Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you settled on the couch beside him, tucking you against his side as his whole family roamed around the River House. 

It had been Feyre’s idea to get everyone together for an evening, just to spend time in each other’s company. 

“How are you?” he said, eyes boring into yours. He had been extra watchful of you lately, since your mood had dimmed weeks ago. He couldn’t understand why this dark cloud had been following you around lately. It broke his heart that he couldn’t fix it.

“Good,” you murmured, smiling faintly at him. 

His brow furrowed, but before he could question you further, Cassian plopped down on the other side of you, grinning.

Cassian pulled your attention then, telling an animated story about how training had been going in the Illyrian mountains. 

Azriel wasn’t really listening, still studying you. You laughed at something that Cassian had said, the sound bright, bouncing off the walls, your smile lighting up your face. The tightness in Azriel’s chest eased a bit.

Feyre and Elain beckoned you into the kitchen then, and you followed, leaving Azriel and Cassian alone in the sitting room for the moment. 

Cassian nodded after you, shooting Azriel a knowing look. “What’s the deal with her?”

“I don’t know,” Azriel said, sighing. “She’s been… off lately.”

Cassian looked contemplative. “Have you ever thought about… you know…” he raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“What, being with her? Romantically?” Azriel furrowed his brow.

“Yeah. I mean, you guys are cuddly enough.”

“Not like that, though,” Azriel said. “No, it’s never been like that between us.”

Cassian shrugged. “Okay. But, you never thought that you might be missing out?”

Azriel thought about it for a moment, what it would be like. “I don’t know. I’ve never thought about her like that.”

“Maybe you should.”

Before Azriel could respond, Nesta stalked into the room, taking Cassian’s attention completely. 

---

It had been months since you had come home from that terrible date, since Azriel had held you that night, since your mind and your heart began to wonder.

Azriel had always been your friend. Though he was beautiful and amazing, you had never before thought about being anything other than his friend. Nothing between you had really changed at all in the last few months, and yet… 

It was Azriel’s face in your mind as you fell asleep. It was Azriel’s touches that you dreamed of, over and over again. It was Azriel, who knew you so well, who was always, always there for you, that occupied your mind day in and day out.

You knew he had sensed a shift in you. But you didn’t think he understood what that shift was. That you had, without even really realizing it, fallen in love with him. 

Cauldron, you were doomed. 

“Where did you just go?” Feyre said, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Nowhere,” you lied.

She narrowed her eyes at you, bouncing Nyx in her lap. 

“Okay, I actually really need to talk to somebody about this. But if I tell you, you can’t tell anybody, not even Rhys.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she nodded in agreement. 

“I kinda have feelings for Azriel.”

Feyre bit her lip, trying to hide her surprise. “Since when?”

You shrugged. “It happened slowly. Little things started sticking out to me all of a sudden and now… Now I can’t stop thinking about him. And I don’t know what to do.”

“You could tell him how you feel,” Feyre offered, smiling softly.

You groaned. “But I don’t think he sees me that way. If I tell him, it could ruin our whole friendship.”

Feyre tilted her head, contemplating. “You think so? Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, he’s Az. I can’t imagine that he would ever abandon someone he loves for any reason.”

“I guess,” you said distantly. “But it would make things really awkward, at the very least.”

Feyre smiled. “Or, it could turn into something amazing.”

You scoffed. “With our luck in love? Unlikely.”

“Maybe nothing has worked out for you two so far because you’re supposed to be together.”

Your heart swelled at the thought, but you stomped down the hope. “Maybe,” you said, your mind wandering again. “Maybe.”

---

Your blood rushed in your ears, your body tense as you and Azriel sat together in the sitting room of the House the next evening. It physically hurt to be near him these days. Your body ached to be close to his.

“What’s up with you?” Azriel asked.

“Nothing, I just…” you trailed off, looking across the room at him, willing yourself to tell the truth. “I love you, Az.”

He smiled. “I love you, too.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t bat an eye at you, at his friend he had loved platonically for so long. Your heart sank. 

It hurt to look at him now. You knew it couldn't be the same between you, not now that you had foolishly fallen for him. 

You took a sip of your drink, wishing it was stronger, and forced yourself through easy conversation with your best friend. 

---

“What’s wrong?” you asked him immediately upon seeing him weeks later, and Azriel couldn’t help but smile. You had always been able to sense the shift in his mood, even if things had felt… different between the two of you lately.

He sighed. “We’re unlucky in love, you and I.”

You stiffened, and he wondered if he had said something wrong, but continued. “You know, the whole Mor, Elain…thing. I’ve just been thinking about what you said that night ages ago. I just wonder when it’ll happen for us.”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to you, and you gulped, tense in a way he’d never seen when it was just the two of you. “What is it?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said, too quickly. “I’m sorry. That you’re feeling unlucky in love.”

He lifted a brow. “Are you okay?”

You nodded then stood up quickly, walking toward the door. Azriel stood, wrapping his fingers around your wrist, pulling gently so you would turn back to face him. “Hey. Talk to me,” he said softly.

Your eyes swam with emotion, and you seemed to be pondering what to say. “I can’t talk to you about this,” you said quietly, your voice breaking.

“What do you mean?” Azriel tried to push down the hurt he felt. “We talk about everything.”

“Not this, Az,” you said sadly, before gently pulling your hand out of his grasp and disappearing down the hallway.

What the hell. 

Azriel spent nearly an hour contemplating what had just happened. Were you upset with him? Or were you just keeping something from him? If you were, why?

He ran over the last several weeks in his mind, all of his interactions with you. You had definitely been acting differently around him, sitting further away from him, not spending as much time with him one-on-one, but he assumed you would talk to him when you were ready. Evidently, you still were not ready. But, what could it possibly be that you couldn’t talk to him about it?

It was his relationships, well his lack of relationship with Mor and Elain that seemed to set this off. 

And then he remembered what Cassian had said weeks ago, that maybe he should consider you as a romantic partner. His brother was always smarter than most people gave him credit for. Did Cassian know something? Was he trying to tell Azriel?

His head spun. Did you have feelings for him?

It would actually explain a lot of your behavior for the past few weeks, especially if you thought that he didn’t feel the same way. 

Did he feel the same way?

He sat back in his chair. Why hadn’t he ever considered you before? You were beautiful, of course, and one of the very best people he had ever known. And you were his best friend, who knew him better than he knew himself, in many ways. Who he could talk to about anything. Who already loved him so much. 

Maybe he should be with you. 

He did love you, of course. So… maybe the two of you should give it a shot.

Before he could think it through, he went to your room, knocking gently. He had to know if he was right.

You answered the door in a thin night dress, your hair cascading down your shoulders. Gods, you were beautiful. What an idiot he'd been.

“Az?” You asked.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your body into his. He gauged your reaction, waiting for you to tense, but you didn't. You melted into him, placing your hand on his chest and gazing up at him with big, beautiful eyes.

Slowly, so slowly, he leaned down, and you tilted your face up to meet him, longing written all over your face. His heart rate spiked as his lips finally met yours.

The kiss was slow, sweet, exploratory. A new dance between old friends. 

You moaned slightly, twining your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer to you.

He growled, pushing you back further into your bedroom, kicking the door shut with his foot.

You had a long night ahead of you.

---

It had been about a week since you and Azriel had stepped into a new form of your relationship.

It was funny, actually. Not that much had actually changed, except you were more comfortable around him now, like you had been before the last few weeks had complicated things. The two of you spent so much time together one on one before, the only difference now was all the kissing and the bedroom activities. And how many times you would tell him that you loved him, your eyes shining with that love.

He was starting to feel like he hadn't thought it all the way through. He loved you. Of course he did. But, he was worried that your love for him was deeper. And he couldn't bear the thought of hurting you.

“Where'd your mind go, Az?” Cassian asked, and Rhysand chuckled.

“He's thinking about his new girlfriend,” Rhys grinned.

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “I'm worried,” he admitted.

“About?” Cassian asked, leaning forward, his full attention on Azriel.

“I think her feelings are deeper than mine. I'm starting to worry that I may have…” he trailed off, not wanting to admit it.

“Settled?” Rhys offered.

Azriel winced, but nodded. “Maybe.”

“What, you don't love her?” Cassian asked.

“I do. Of course I love her.”

“Well, there you go,” Cassian said, waving a hand dismissively. “I think you're overthinking this.”

“Maybe just give it time,” Rhysand said contemplatively. “You know how she is. She feels things very deeply. You might catch up to her faster than you think.”

“Maybe. I hope so,” Azriel said, his mind wandering away again, back to you. Back to the love that shone in your eyes when you looked at him.

He would have to be careful. He would not break your heart. He wouldn't be able to live with himself.

---

Years later, snuggled up to Azriel, watching children screaming and running around the River House the night before Winter Solstice, you couldn’t imagine being happier. 

Azriel and you had been talking about trying for children soon. Your heart swelled as you watched Cassian’s and Rhysand’s children grow up together, picturing your own children growing up in all this love, with cousins and aunts and uncles who would love them so much.

You smiled and Azriel kissed your temple. “I know exactly what you’re thinking,” he murmured into your skin. 

“You do not,” you smiled.

“I do,” he said, ducking his head to whisper in your ear. “You wanna try for a baby tonight?” His breath tickled your ear, his voice dipping suggestively. 

You laughed, playfully shoving him away, and he grinned. “Tonight? The one night a year we sleep under the same roof as our entire family? Absolutely not.” 

He pulled you into his lap, kissing you sweetly. “Tomorrow then?” he whispered. 

You rolled your eyes, but your heart swelled with love. “We’ll see,” you teased. 

Elain called you into the kitchen then, and you went to join her, shooting a wink at Az over your shoulder as you went. He grinned.

Your family was scattered all over the house, leaving Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel alone in the living room next to the kitchen with some of the children.

You could hear them laughing together as you helped Elain prep some of the food for the following morning. 

Your ears perked up when you heard your name and Elain shot you a curious look, clearly eavesdropping along with you.

“Remember when you two first got together?” Rhysand asked, likely to Azriel.

“Yes,” Az chuckled softly. “We’ve come a long way since then.”

“I can’t believe you were ever unsure about her,” Cassian said. “That you were worried you had settled.”

Shock jolted through your entire body, your blood pounding in your ears. You nearly dropped the plate that you were holding.

“I was a fool,” Azriel said, and you could picture him shaking his head slightly. “I can’t imagine life without her. I can’t believe I lasted so long just being her friend.”

“She’s got you wrapped around her little finger,” Rhysand teased. 

“Oh, like you’re not the same with Feyre,” Azriel shot back, and all three brothers erupted into laughter. 

You looked at Elain finally, her expression solemn, like she could see right through to your soul, how broken you felt. 

Without a word, you left the kitchen, going up to the guest room that you and Azriel occupied when you stayed with Feyre and Rhysand. 

Azriel had settled for you. He was sad that night that he first kissed you, sad about not getting a shot with Mor or Elain, so he had gone to the one person he knew would never deny him. 

All this time, all these years, he had just been settling with you because he didn’t want to be alone. You felt sick.

You had fallen in love with him, and to him you were just there. Ready for the taking. That’s why he chose you. 

Your stomach lurched, and you scrambled to the bathroom, spilling your guts, hot tears streaming down your face, sobs shaking your whole body.

---

Azriel frowned sometime later, wondering why you hadn’t come back yet. He wandered away from his brothers, finding Elain alone in the kitchen. She frowned at him as he entered, looking angrier than he had ever seen her. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Why don’t you go ask your wife?”

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean? Where is she?”

“She went upstairs a while ago,” Elain said curtly, turning back to her pastries. 

Azriel’s heart pounded. What had happened to make Elain angry at him? Why had you gone upstairs without saying goodnight to anyone? 

He rushed up to the room, confused when he didn’t see you anywhere, until he heard you sniffling in the washroom. His heart lurched, panic setting in as he swung the door open, finding you lying on the floor, hugging your legs to your chest, facing away from him. 

He whispered your name, his anxiety increasing. When you didn’t answer, he sat down next to you, rubbing your back soothingly, gently setting your head into his lap. He saw your tear stained cheeks, your red eyes, and the breath was sucked right out of his lungs.

“What happened, love? What is it?” he asked, trying to sound calm.

You refused to look at him, staring ahead blankly. 

He had never seen you like this. “Honey, you’re scaring me, please tell me what’s wrong,” he said, his voice breaking. 

Finally, you sat up and walked back into the bedroom, still not looking at him. As you did, you mumbled, “you settled.”

“What?” he asked, following you into the bedroom. 

You slid under the covers, facing away from him. “You settled with me. You didn’t want to be alone, so you kissed me that night. And you settled with me.”

“I didn’t,” he said, quietly. “I did not settle. I love you. So much.”

You buried yourself further into the covers, hiding yourself from him. His heart ached. “All this time,” you whispered. “All this time. You must have been just waiting for Mor or Elain to change their minds, huh?”

“No,” he said, his voice coming out quiet and crackly. He rounded the bed, willing you to look at him. He settled on his knees, looking into your eyes, cupping your cheek with a scarred hand. “No. It was never like that. It was never about them. I love you, I always have,” he said, willing you to believe him, to feel that he meant it. 

A tear slid down your cheek. His heart broke further as he wiped it away gently with his thumb. “That’s not what Cassian said,” you whispered.

Azriel sighed, his eyes pleading. “I was worried. When we first started dating, I was worried that your feelings were deeper than mine. You always feel things so deeply, my love, and that’s one of the things that I love the most about you. I was scared that I wasn’t at the same level that you were, and you would get hurt because of it.”

“Looks like I have,” you whispered. 

“But it’s not like that now, it hasn’t been like that for years. I’ve known for so long that you are the only person in the world that I could ever want. Please,” Azriel whispered. “Please believe that I am so in love with you. It was one stupid conversation ages ago, and I’m so sorry that I hurt you, but you have to believe me. You are the love of my life.”

“I don’t know how to believe you right now,” you said quietly, your voice breaking. 

Azriel’s heart broke completely. Your face was completely blank in a way he had never seen before. “What can I do?” 

“I don’t know, Az. I need -- I need space.”

He gulped, but nodded, rising to his feet slowly “Okay. I’ll be downstairs, if you need me.”

You didn’t respond. He willed his legs to move, to leave you behind, broken, in the bed you were supposed to share.

Cassian and Rhys were the only people left downstairs by the time he made it back down, drinking and laughing together. 

One look at their brother’s face, and they went silent.

“I fucked up,” Azriel said, taking the glass from Cassian’s hand and shooting the amber liquid back in one gulp.

Cassian handed Azriel the whole bottle, who would have laughed, if he hadn’t ripped his own heart to shreds that night.

He took a swig before saying quietly, “she heard our conversation. She thinks I settled with her.”

“Shit,” Cassian said, his face falling. 

“What did you tell her?” Rhys asked, his expression solemn too.

“The truth. I was worried that in the beginning that she loved me more than I loved her, but now… Gods, I’m so in love with her. But she said she can’t trust me anymore,” he said, a tear running down his cheek before he quickly wiped it away.

His brothers were silent for a moment, thinking. 

After a moment, Cassian said, “Yeah, I don’t know how you fix this, Az.”

Azriel laughed humorlessly, taking another sip from the bottle. “Thanks.”

“She might just need some time,” Rhysand said. 

“You didn’t see her,” Azriel said, his voice breaking again. “She was…” he trailed off and shook his head. “I’ve never seen her like that. She’s wrecked. Because of me.” 

His brothers stayed up with him for a long time, trying to console him, but he eventually sent them away to their happy mates who still loved them. 

He laid on the couch, his wings drooping on the floor, his heart hurting. He hadn’t spent a night away from you since you had gotten together unless he was on a mission. This felt fundamentally wrong.

Eventually, he got up, wandering through the quiet house. He made his way into the study, digging out some paper. He had to fix this. He needed you to understand. 

---

You’d barely slept at all, and winced when the sun started lightly filtering into the room that shouldn’t be so empty. 

You didn’t know how to feel, what to think. You knew Azriel loved you. But was it enough? Was it the same, all-consuming love that you felt for him? 

How could you ever be sure?

After just one night, you missed the heat of his body against yours, hated rolling over to see the other side of the bed empty. 

Cauldron, you had been talking about children less than 12 hours ago, and now…

You shoved the thought away, your eyes still burning from crying all night. You refused to start up again. 

What a Winter Solstice this would turn out to be. Maybe you should just go home.

Alone, in the apartment that you had turned into a home with Azriel. Your bottom lip trembled, and you bit it, hard. You were strong, you would survive this. 

Whatever this ended up being.

Your mind was still spinning and you hadn’t yet gotten out of bed when there was a tentative knock on your door. 

“What?” you said, quietly, your voice not sounding like your own.

Azriel opened the door slowly, studying you as he lingered in the doorway. He looked awful, bags under his eyes, his clothes rumpled, his hair a mess, like he had run his hand through it over and over again. 

“Hey,” he said quietly. 

“Hi,” you replied timidly.

His face fell and you knew why. You had never sounded like that, not with him. 

He took a cautious step into the room, watching you closely. “I made something. For when you're ready,” he said, placing a stack of papers on the bedside table. 

You remained silent, not sure what to say. He swallowed, and turned to leave, but he stopped in the doorway, turning back to you. “I do love you. So much.”

His expression was pained, and you could tell he wanted to say more, but he just looked at you sadly before disappearing behind the door he closed behind him. 

It wasn’t until after you took a long bath that you had the courage to look at the papers he had left for you. You sat on the bed, pulling them into your lap, surprised at how many pages there were. 

On the top, in Azriel’s handwriting it said, “To My Dearest Love.”

Despite everything, you couldn’t stop the swell in your chest, the love that you felt for him. 

You were shocked as you read through page after page. He had written your story, the story of your love from his perspective, every date you had gone on, every Winter Solstice, every milestone. He detailed his thoughts as he went through each of those moments, all the things he loved about you, when he noticed new little things about you, even after being friends for so long. 

Tears were streaming down your face by the time you got to the end, where it read: 

You, my love, are everything. Everything. If you’ll let me, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving it to you. 

I’m sorry that I was a fool. I’ll always be sorry that I hurt you. 

Whatever you decide, whatever you want going forward, I just hope that you’ll know how deeply I love you. 

---

Azriel had gone to the annual snowball fight with his brothers, only for a distraction. But his heart wasn’t in it, and after about ten minutes, his brothers had deemed his snowball game so pathetic that they called it off and all went inside to the cabin to drink. 

He knew he was being tragic company, so Azriel went back to the River House on his own, prepared to find a quiet corner to sulk in by himself. He hoped you had read what he stayed up all night writing, at least. Even if it didn’t change anything… 

He didn’t let himself dwell on what could happen. He didn’t know what he would do if you left him. 

He nearly fell over when he noticed that you were sitting in the living room that he had used his shadows to winnow into. 

You looked surprised too, but not unhappy. Relief flooded through him. 

“Hi,” you said, quietly. 

“Hi,” he said, his voice raspy. 

You stood up, walking toward him slowly, stopping a few steps from him. He longed to hold you, to make it all better, but he stayed where he was.

“I read it,” you whispered. 

He could only nod, his heart in his throat. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, and his heart shattered, terror flooding through him before you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. 

He hugged you back instantly, holding you to him with crushing force. 

“I don’t want to be mad at you anymore,” you said into his chest. “I love you.”

Azriel felt like he was going to fall over, the only thing that was keeping him standing was you. “I love you,” he said, letting the tears fall freely down his cheeks, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I love you, I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. I get it now. What you wrote -- it helped me understand. And it was beautiful.”

“I’m still sorry I hurt you,” he said, his voice cracking.

You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him gently. “It’s okay, Az. I’m okay.”

Azriel took your face in his hands gently, kissing you like his life depended on it. He felt like it did. 

You let him kiss you for ages, until the two of you realized that you were no longer alone. Azriel looked up to see that his brothers had winnowed in and were now staring at the two of you. 

“Oh, thank the Mother,” Cassian said, bracing his hands on his knees dramatically before coming up and hugging you, lifting you into the air, while Rhys laughed behind him. “You guys really had me worried.”

“I take it you worked it all out?” Rhysand asked, kissing your cheek after Cassian set you back on the ground. 

“Yeah, we’re okay now,” you said, laughing at them.

Rhysand and Cassian did look extremely relieved, which made Azriel’s heart swell. He would always be thankful for his brothers. 

---

After a surprisingly successful Winter Solstice, you and Azriel made your way back home, now cuddling together in your bed, holding each other tightly. 

Azriel kissed the top of your head. “I’ll always be so thankful for you. I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

You snuggled closer into him. “We’re both lucky.”

Azriel laughed. “Speaking of getting lucky… you want to try for that baby now?”

You gawked at him, incredulously. “What, too soon?” he asked, smirking.

“Males are ridiculous,” you scolded him. 

After a beat, Azriel risked it. “I didn’t hear a no…”

You laughed, pulling him into a kiss. “You’re so stupid.”

Azriel grinned. “Oh, I know.”

@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch @batboyrhyrhy @1-s1mp-t00-much

[daycourtofficial]

Come back, be here

Azriel x reader

Summary: It’s the anniversary of your mating bond ceremony and despite his reassurances, Azriel is nowhere to be seen.

Author’s note: this is the end of my 1k celebration and ironically the first fic I finished for this week. I hope you guys enjoyed reading these fics as much as I enjoyed writing them

Word count: 2k

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Every second you sat in your kitchen felt like an eternity, the fabric of the dress you’re wearing growing heavier with each tick of the clock.

You had bought the clock for your mate for your mating anniversary years ago. A rare antique that you knew he would love - thousands of years old, and you got it for an absurdly low price due to the condition it was in.

You spent months with a restoration expert, cleaning the clock, repairing pieces as you dismantled it. It was a labor of love, one you thought Azriel was deserving of.

The months spent restoring it were nothing compared to the time you’ve been sitting here.

Now you sit, practically taunted by its song. Tonight was supposed to be about the two of you. Objectively five years in a mateship isn’t a long time, a blip in the lives of fae, and yet the both of you were looking forward to the evening.

Despite his intimidating demeanor, Azriel was meticulous about celebrating your anniversaries, oftentimes mentioning an event you didn’t realize he knew the date of. You imagined he had an internal index of the days you two spent together.

“I waited five hundred years to meet you,” he had told you when he wanted to take you out to celebrate the anniversary of your first date, “I want to remember everything we do together. I want to celebrate us every day that I can.”

His words were incredibly sweet, but sitting in the cold kitchen, the tempting aromas of the meal you made long gone, you wonder just how much of it was words.

He waited 500 years for you, and you waited several hours before packing up the dinner you had made for him, tears running down your face as you packaged it all up.

Perhaps his overeager celebration of anniversaries led to the intensity of the sting you feel deep in your chest.

The clock chimes twelve times - he’s four hours late and your anniversary is officially over. You have no indication from the bond what he’s doing, it’s golden hum having gone silent hours ago.

You blow out the candles littering the house, taking off the ridiculous party hat you were wearing and throwing it on the ground.

It feels silly, the brightly colored hat with a pompon on top. It’s bright demeanor heavily contrasting the loneliness you feel inside. You sigh, looking around the downstairs of your home, deciding to leave the rose petals you had scattered so perhaps he’ll feel at least a little guilty when he came home.

Whenever that would be.

Trudging up the stairs, each step growing heavier, you wonder what could have kept him away. Rhys certainly wouldn’t have asked him to go away - Azriel had mentioned earlier in the week he’d be unavailable for a few days to celebrate.

Besides, Rhys knew how anal Azriel was about your anniversaries, and Feyre would chew him out if he forced Azriel to do anything on a day as important as your mating ceremony anniversary.

He had left this morning, promising you he’d be home at 8 because he had some tasks to do. You knew he was going to help one of your neighbors with a fallen tree, something that had to be done as soon as possible.

You move silently, going through your nightly ritual, an early end to the night you didn’t see coming. You pull back the covers on your bed, slipping into its cold grasp, ready to cry yourself to sleep, when you hear the door open downstairs.

You can hear Azriel moving through the house, a swiftness to his step as you hear him climbing the stairs quickly, taking them two at a time.

You make your way to your shared bedroom door, that you had locked upon entering, and lean against it, unsure if you’re ready for his excuses.

He tries the handle, then begins knocking.

“Baby, baby please be awake.” He pauses for a moment, listening. “I’m so sorry, baby please I know you’re awake I can hear you breathing.”

One of his shadows snakes underneath your door, checking you over to see how you are. It lingers on your cheeks, tear tracks still fresh. The shadow doesn’t return to it’s master, instead opting to stay with you, providing you company.

“Please, baby, I lost track of time. I was working on a surprise for you and I fell asleep. Baby I’m-“

You push off the door and turn to crack open the door, taking in the sight of your mate. Despite your annoyance, the bond made it practically impossible to want to avoid him. Every piece of you begged to be near him, to open the door further letting him in.

“You were working on a surprise?” Your voice cracks from all the crying, and he doesn’t mention how his heart cracks in response.

He nods gently, his hair sticking up everywhere from his hands having ran through it, and likely also from the flight home.

You’re still upset, but the frost you feel starts thawing. You can make him grovel a bit, and you’re about to open the door more, when the smell hits you.

Elain.

He showed up late to your date for your mating anniversary with some lame excuse about falling asleep because he had spent the day with Elain.

Elain, who was mated to Lucien, but made her affections for your mate abundantly clear before your mateship. As far as you had known, Azriel had shut down her affections when the bond snapped for you both, but now you’re reconsidering everything that you know.

Had they been sneaking around? Is this the first time? Does Lucien know?

The questions swirl in your mind, and Azriel puts his foot in the door begore you can slam it on him, your emotions swirling inside of his chest.

“Baby-“

“You spent the day with Elain?” You spat, “you were late because of Elain? You reek of her, Az!”

You push against the door, trying to shut him out, but he doesn’t budge, he won’t pull his foot out of the way, no matter how much it hurts.

“Baby, no let me explain-“

You laugh, “what’s there to explain? You are covered in her scent.”

The tears start pouring again, and the shadow starts wiping them up, more of them coming through the door to console you.

He starts panicking. Things with Elain have been great the past few years - her distance from Azriel allowing any lingering feelings of lust or awkwardness to dissipate, allowing the two of them to have a cordial friendship. Despite this, he was aware of how insecure you were around her.

You could never grasp why he’d want to be with you when he could have been with her.

Panic laces his tone as he tells you, “baby, no, I went to Elain’s to bake you a cake! We’ve been working all week on a recipe for you!”

You stop pushing so hard against the door, your movements stilling. An invitation for him to continue talking, but to stay where he was and not try to come in further.

“We spent the day baking you a cake. I laid down on her couch, and you know how damning that thing is. Lucien was there all day. I fell asleep waiting for the cake to cool so I could frost it. They must have left because-“

He pauses, his words rushing from his mouth, afraid you’d shut him out before they made their way to you. “I-they had me promise not to tell anyone, but Elain’s pregnant and they left for an appointment with Madja. They got back not too long ago, waking me up. I came straight here, forgetting the cake and your gifts.”

You lift your eyes to look at him for the first time and you know he’s telling you the truth.

“Gifts? Plural?”

A laugh breaks out from him, your obvious attempt to diffuse the situation. He pushes his hair back with a hand, and you finally take in how messy it was. He clearly had rushed over here, if it’s wind-blown look was anything to go off of. “I got you these incredible books that I spent ages tracking down. I was in Day earlier this week to pick them up.”

You perk up at that, “but you hate going to Day alone because Helion begs you to-“

“Then I had to stop by the jeweler’s.”

You perk up at that, your love of jewelry rivaling Amren’s.

“The jeweler’s?”

He smiles faintly, hoping he’s slowly convincing you to let him in.

“I had Winston take part of one of my siphons to make you a necklace.”

You still at that.

“Your- your siphon?”

He smiles softly, “yeah, I’ve been talking with him for years on how to best remove a piece to make you a matching necklace.”

You narrow your eyes, “years?”

“Yes, my love. We’ve gone through probably dozens of unused syphons to figure out the best method, he finally figured it out a few months ago.”

His hand taps his chest, where one of his siphons usually sits.

“I had a bit chiseled off of the one that stays on my chest.”

Your resolve crumbles, seinging open the door and launching yourself into his arms. He holds you tightly, and the two of you just stand there, enjoying the embrace.

The clock chines downstairs, but this time it’s tune is one of love, not dread.

You smelled him again, and as prominent as Elain’s scent was, you also picked up strong hints of Lucien and a soft, delicate scent.

“So nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened. And nothing ever will happen.”

Your eyes are lined with tears, pulling back from him, you place your hands on his face, bringing his face level with yours.

“If anything did happen, or ever happens, I’ll skin you alive.”

“My love, I think if I were to ever do anything to break your heart, Nesta would put my heart on a platter.”

You giggle, and he hums out, “actually I’m not sure who’d get to me first - Cassian or Nesta.”

Your soft giggles soothe the erratic beating of Azriel’s heart, “Gwyn and Emerie might take a chunk out too.”

He pushes the strands of hair away from your face, guiding the two of you further into the toom so he can shut the door.

“Let’s assume that if I did anything to hurt you, there would be a long line of fae coming to hunt me down.”

He kisses you, quickly pecking your lips several times as he guided you backwards until your knees hit your bed.

“However I did leave my mate all alone on our anniversary.”

He crawls on top of you, kissing your neck as you close your eyes at the contact, “and I am very good at groveling.”

[soulofapatrick]

Snap into place - Azriel x female reader

Summary: You meet Azriel and the mate bond snaps into place

Words: 2.7K

Warnings: None really; heated make out session

Notes; debating on a smutty part two...

Y/N's POV

I land softly in the grand dining room of the House of Wind, the air thick with the scent of fresh herbs and a hint of something sweet. Rhysand’s arms release me gently, and I steady myself on my feet, my heart racing from the exhilaration of flying through the skies of Velaris. The room is filled with soft, glowing light, casting an inviting warmth over the beautifully arranged table. A high ceiling adorned with intricate carvings seems to echo with laughter and conversation.

Before I can take in my surroundings fully, a stunning figure catches my eye. A woman with long, flowing blonde hair and striking features stands nearby, wearing a form-fitting red dress that barely conceals anything in the front. It clings to her curves, exuding confidence and allure.

“Ah, my cousin,” Rhysand announces, his voice filled with warmth. “This is Morrigan—though everyone just calls her Mor.”

Before I can respond, Mor crosses the room in a heartbeat, pulling me into a fierce hug. Her laughter is bright and infectious. “Welcome! I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaims, her voice a melodic blend of mischief and sincerity. I feel an instant warmth in her embrace, a sense of belonging I didn’t expect.

“Thank you,” I manage to say as she releases me, taking a step back with a bright smile that makes her appear even more radiant.

Feyre steps forward, her expression friendly and open. “Let me introduce you to my sisters,” she says, guiding me toward a small group nearby.

Nesta stands with her arms crossed, an aura of guardedness surrounding her. She meets my gaze with a sharp look, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders. “You’re Rhysand’s guest?” she asks, her tone skeptical.

“Yes,” I reply, trying to match her intensity with a friendly smile.

Elain, their sister, smiles softly at me. She has an ethereal quality, with gentle features that instantly make me feel at ease. “It’s lovely to meet you,” she says sweetly, her voice warm and inviting. “If you need anything, please let me know.”

I nod, feeling a flicker of appreciation for her kindness.

Cassian stands next to Nesta, his muscular frame radiating strength and energy. He grins widely, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just don’t let her intimidate you,” he teases, motioning toward Nesta. “She’s really just a big softie at heart.”

“Hardly,” Nesta retorts, rolling her eyes but the corners of her mouth lift slightly.

As they all welcome me, I feel a tug in my chest, an inexplicable pull that draws my attention across the room. I turn my head, and my breath catches in my throat. Another Illyrian soldier stands there, much like Cassian but not. His arms are crossed over his toned chest, looking out the large windows at the stars. His dark hair catches the light, and there’s an air of quiet strength about him. He seems lost in thought, his posture relaxed yet commanding.

“Azriel,” Rhys speaks to his friend, his tone light but expectant. “Won’t you greet our guest?”

Azriel turns slowly toward me, and I find myself momentarily entranced. He is classically beautiful, though nearly unreadable, an enigma wrapped in shadows. He stands tall, his dark hair tousled and framing his face perfectly. Golden-brown skin gleams softly in the warm light, and his massive Illyrian wings are folded elegantly behind him, giving him an imposing yet graceful presence. The planes of his face are striking—high cheekbones, a strong jawline—carved by years of rigorous training. His hazel eyes, a blend of green and gold, hold a depth that makes my breath catch.

As our eyes lock, that tugging sensation in my chest intensifies, pulling me closer to him, and then—snap. It’s as if an invisible bond has snapped into place, an undeniable connection that leaves me momentarily off-balance. I stumble, my breath hitching, and I reach out instinctively for support.

Rhysand’s violet eyes widen with concern as he steps closer, his hand steadying me. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.

I nod quickly, but my attention is drawn back to Azriel, who steps toward me in large, graceful strides, closing the distance between us with an effortless fluidity that only heightens the charged atmosphere.

He reaches out, taking my right hand in his scarred one, the warmth of his touch igniting a thousand sensations within me. Then, with a deep bow, he bends slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, his voice low and velvety, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

At his touch, a wave of emotions floods through me. I can feel everything he feels—an undercurrent of fear at this unexpected connection, a deep anticipation for my response, and there, beneath it all, an undeniable want and lust that makes my cheeks heat with embarrassment. It’s as if our souls are whispering secrets to one another, threading together in an intricate dance of intimacy and longing.

I try to pull my hand back, overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions coursing through the bond, but he holds my gaze, and I find myself rooted to the spot, caught in the depths of his hazel eyes. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying, a whirlwind of sensations that leaves me breathless and wanting more.

I glance down at Azriel’s scarred hands, tracing my thumb along the rough texture of his skin. The warmth of his touch sends a soft shudder through him, and I feel it travel down the bond between us—a wave of heat that washes over me, igniting something deep within. It’s an intimate gesture, one that feels both innocent and charged with unspoken promises.

But suddenly, I feel something else—claws prying at the edges of my mind, a persistent probing that sends a shiver down my spine. I snap my head to the side, my eyes landing on Rhys and Feyre. Rhys stands with his head tilted slightly, a focused expression on his face as he tries to break through my mental shields, searching for what I’m thinking and sensing what’s happening between Azriel and me.

“Rhys!” I snap, my voice sharper than intended. “Get out of my head!”

His bright violet eyes widen in surprise, but there’s no malice behind his glare—just concern and curiosity.

I squeeze Azriel’s hand slightly, seeking comfort in his presence as I feel the bond shift, allowing a flicker of privacy to return. With a subtle sigh, Azriel finally lets me go, his grip loosening but the warmth lingering on my skin.

With the weight of too many eyes on me, I feel exposed and overwhelmed by the sudden intensity of it all. I take a step back, my heart racing. “I need some air,” I manage to say, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me. Without waiting for a response, I move toward the balcony, seeking solace in the open air. The stars shimmer above me, bright and unyielding against the velvet backdrop of the night sky. The cool breeze nips at my skin, sending a shiver through me, and I realize with a pang that I shouldn’t have let Feyre dress me up so much; the delicate fabric feels too thin against the chill.

I take a deep breath, looking up at the stars, trying to quell the turmoil in my head. They are more beautiful than I ever imagined, each twinkling light a reminder of the vastness of the world beyond this moment. The Night Court is far more peaceful than anyone ever says it is, a soothing embrace of tranquility that wraps around me, lulling my racing heart.

But then, just as I begin to gather my thoughts, I feel the presence behind me. Scarred hands rest on the balcony railing between mine, and a solid body presses against me, immediately calming the raging thoughts and anxiety within me. It’s as if now that Azriel has been found as my mate, he can calm me with just a touch. My parents always told me stories about mates, about how their presence could soothe even the most tumultuous of storms.

Suddenly, I’m no longer cold. The heat radiating from him envelops me, grounding me in the moment. I seem to fall back against him instinctively, feeling the solid strength of his body as he envelops me in a comforting warmth. I breathe him in—the scent of dark wood, cool night air, and something uniquely him that sends my heart racing anew.

I take a deep breath, letting my eyes slide shut as the back of my head rests against his shoulder, feeling his presence wrap around me like a protective shroud. I can’t help but open my mind to him, allowing our connection to deepen. I show him every thought I’ve ever had about mates—the way my parents were so perfectly entwined, the love that seemed to glow around them like a beacon. I share my awe from moments ago, the overwhelming rush of emotions when our eyes first met.

I can feel him absorbing my thoughts, understanding the weight of them as they flit through our bond like soft whispers. And as I let go of my worries and fears, I realise that in this moment, with Azriel, everything feels right. The bond between us is no longer just a connection; it is a sanctuary.

When I finally open my eyes, I realize it’s not just Azriel’s presence wrapping around me but his massive wings have unfurled, forming a dark cocoon around us. They block out the view of the dining room and the curious gazes of the others, creating a sanctuary that offers me the privacy I’ve always craved, especially in gatherings like this one. I’ve never liked being the center of attention, and now, in this moment, I’m grateful for his instinct to shield us.

His wings are magnificent—dark and leathery, reminiscent of a bat’s, stretching wide to envelop us in shadow. The texture is smooth yet powerful, each wingbone prominent and elegant. I slowly turn to face him, our bodies close but still connected through the warmth of his wings. His arms remain on the balcony railing, and the soft look on his face takes my breath away. There’s something in his gaze, a mix of vulnerability and fierce desire, that makes my heart race.

I reach out tentatively, fingers brushing against one of his wings. At my touch, he lets out a breathy sound, a mixture of surprise and something deeper. A surge of sexual want travels straight through the bond between us, igniting every nerve ending in my body and leaving me breathless.

Azriel’s hazel eyes flutter open a moment later, the warm color gone so dark they’re almost black, filled with an intensity that makes me shiver. His voice is low and gravelly as he speaks, the words rolling off his tongue like a whispered secret. “I need to kiss you.” There’s a desperation in his tone, almost like a plea, and my hands instinctively reach up to cup his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms.

In that moment, everything else fades away, and it’s just the two of us in our private world. His hands finally move, wrapping around me with a possessive tenderness that makes my heart leap. He pulls me closer, pressing my hips into the balcony railing, creating an exhilarating friction between us. One hand weaves into my hair, the other slips to my thigh, lifting my leg and wrapping it around his waist as if to draw me even nearer.

And then, as if the world outside has disappeared, he dives down and kisses me like I’m the oxygen he needs to breathe. His lips are soft yet insistent, sending sparks of electricity through my body. The taste of him is intoxicating—warm and rich, like dark chocolate laced with a hint of something sweet. With every brush of his mouth against mine, I feel my heart race, igniting a fire within me that spreads from my chest to my fingertips, making me dizzy with desire.

I can’t seem to get enough of him. My hands instinctively roam over the contours of his back, searching for a break in his Illyrian armor, eager to find hot, bare golden skin beneath. I’m met only with cool metal and the hard lines of his physique, a growl of frustration escaping me when I can’t reach my destination. The sound draws a deep chuckle from him, vibrating through our connection and sending shivers down my spine.

As we pull apart just enough for him to speak, I’m breathless. “I have waited hundreds of years for you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion and longing. The weight of those words settles over us, filled with the gravity of a bond forged over lifetimes.

Before I can process what he means, he surges forward again, crashing his mouth against mine with a heat and passion that sends my mind reeling. I feel every dip and curve of his body pressed against mine, the solid strength of him overwhelming me in the best way possible. I don’t care how hard the railing is digging into my back; everything Azriel is consuming me, and I want him—no, I need him—right here and right now.

A low sound of agreement rumbles in his chest, deep and resonant, making my insides flutter with excitement. But just as I lose myself in the warmth of his embrace, a sudden clearing of the throat outside our cocoon of wings startles me, and I yelp with fear, pulling back from the kiss.

“Darlings!” comes the voice, sickly sweet and teasing. Rhys’. “As hot and amusing as this is, please do whatever this is somewhere else where your mental shields won’t go down and blast unwanted thoughts my way.”

I glance over at Rhysand, who stands just outside the shadow of Azriel’s wings, a smirk playing on his lips. His violet eyes dance with mischief as he takes in the scene, clearly amused by our moment. I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment, my heart still racing from both the kiss and the unexpected interruption.

Azriel's presence remains a steady anchor behind me, the heat radiating from his body enveloping me in a comforting embrace. Despite Rhys's teasing, I can’t shake the feeling of exhilaration coursing through my veins.

Without breaking the intense gaze between us, Azriel flips Rhys the bird over his shoulder, a smirk dancing on his lips. It’s a surprisingly playful gesture from someone as serious as him, and it sends a flutter of laughter through me, lightening the tension in the air.

Then, with a sudden and fluid motion, he scoops me up in his arms, mirroring how Rhysand had carried me here. The world shifts around us as he cradles me against his chest, his hold firm and secure. My heart races, not from the shock of being lifted, but from the thrill of what’s to come.

He strides out of the House of Wind, his powerful legs propelling us into the night, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on his dark wings. I let my head rest against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him—woodsmoke and night air, a mixture that calms me even as my pulse quickens. Anticipation and want settle deep in my bones, intertwining with the warmth radiating from him, making it hard to think straight.

What does my mate have planned for us once he gets me to his bed? The mere thought sends butterflies swirling in my stomach, a mix of excitement and nerves. I close my eyes, surrendering to the feeling of safety in his arms, relishing the electric connection that pulses between us.

With each step flap of his wings he takes, I feel the promise of the night stretching out before us, a canvas of endless possibilities. All I can think about is how I’ve finally found him—my mate—and everything is about to change.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[cressidagrey]

Stars all aligned - Chapter 16 (The End)

Summary:

If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.

They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.

Warning:

Penultimate chapter! Bashing of like...every IC member, though we have now reached the point where Rhys and Cassian are the good guys, discussion of chronic pain, discussion of Infertility, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Underage Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Accidental Baby Procurement

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please, take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)

Which one of you blabbed? he seethed mentally to Rhys. Guess who came to a visit.

Azriel was seething with rage. He could sense Zahra's hurt, her anger, the emotional turmoil simmering beneath her calm exterior. She was protecting him, defending him, shielding him from her sisters...and it only fueled his anger further.

He wanted to step in, to shield her from everything, to protect her from the harm her sisters were capable of causing. But Zahra was standing tall, her gaze steady, as she faced her sisters. Let her have this moment, Rhys' voice whispered in his mind. Cassian and I are on our way. 

"We don't want to take anything from you," Feyre broke the silence, her voice wavering. "That's not..."

But Zahra shook her head sharply. "No. It doesn't matter what you want," she said coldly. "What matters is what you have been doing. You have spent the last few years ignoring me. You have all but disowned me. You have constantly reminded me that Ia m nothing to you. The constant reminders that I am nothing to you. You have all but disowned me. And now, you come here and expect me to give everything up? For what? For you? For the family that never once treated me as one of them?"

The words hung heavy in the air. Zahra's voice was unwavering, her gaze unwavering. Azriel's chest ached with the need to protect her. His hands itched to shield her, to hold her, to comfort her. But he stayed back, his body rigid with restraint. 

This…This she had to do on her own. He knew that she was strong enough for it. Zahra was so strong. So utterly strong. So resilient. She could do this on her own, she needed to proof to herself, that she could do this on her own. 

Elain's eyes were watering, her hands clutching at the fabric of her dress. "I...I didn't know," she whispered.

Azriel really wondered what Elain was thinking to keep insisting on this. He didn’t believe for one moment that there hadn’t been signs. That Zahra had succeeded in hiding away every single bruise, every single injury so well that her sisters couldn't have noticed if they actually cared about. 

Zahra snorted at that moment, the sound harsh. There was no true amusement in her voice as she answered: "Of course, you didn't," she said dryly. “I did everything so that you wouldn’t find out. I was willing to take that secret to the grave with me.“

“Why?” Nesta demanded

“Because I shouldn’t have to sacrifice myself to make you act like you care,” Zahra snapped.

It was so obvious from her tone…the pain, the anger…a wound that had cut deep, that had never healed. 

Zahra stepped towards her sisters, her eyes burning with a fire that Azriel had never seen before. "You never once asked," she said, her voice rising. "You never once tried to even act like you cared about me. You buried your heads in the sand while I went through hell alon.."

Her words echoed in the silence that followed, the weight of her pain and her anger palpable in the air. Elain was openly crying now, soft sobs escaping her. Feyre was pale, her hands trembling. But Zahra's gaze was fixed on Nesta, a glare laced with bitterness and anger.

"You have absolutely no idea what I went through," Zahra continued, turning her gaze upon Nesta. "The pain, the shame, the humiliation. You never once even wondered why I should have an affair with him. Instead you made fun of me. Instead you treated me even worse. You never once wondered where I got the money from. You should have known that Feyre’s hunting wasn’t enough to sustain us! If I didn’t do what I had to, we would have all starved!“

Azriel's heart ached with each word that came out of Zahra's mouth. The pain, the anger, the years of pent up emotion was finally coming out, the dam broken.

She was not holding back, her words sharp and scathing, aimed directly at her sisters. The air was thick with tension, the silence broken only by Elain's soft sobs.

Nesta's mouth had dropped open, her eyes wide with shock. "You...you did that for us?"

Zahra laughed bitterly. "Who else, Nesta? Who else would it have been for? I did what I had to do to keep the rest of you alive."

Elain's sobs had escalated to loud, hitching gasps. Feyre's face was ghost-white, her hands twisted together in a white-knuckled grip. But Nesta looked as if Zahra had slapped her, the words a blow to her very core.

“Even when you never treated me like your sister, you are mine.”

Everything wrapped up neatly in one single sentence. It was a death knell. 

A killing blow. 

And he loved her all the more for it. He couldn’t help but marvel at the strength she possessed. She was the strongest, bravest person he had ever met, and the knowledge that he was hers filled him with a sense of possessive pride.

Elain was openly weeping now, tears streaming down her face. Feyre was silent, her eyes wide, her hands clutched to her chest. But Nesta's face was a mask of shock, pain, and shame.

"I did it all for you," Zahra continued, her voice cracking slightly, "and yet, not once did you show me a shred of care. You never once even asked if I was alright."

Her words echoed in the silence, the truth of them hanging in the air like a thick, suffocating fog. The pain, the loneliness, the rejection. It was all there, laid bare for her sisters to see. And it was clear from their stunned, guilty faces that they were seeing it all for the first time.

No one spoke. No one moved. The only sounds were Elain's sobs and Zahra’s ragged breaths. Azriel wanted so badly to cross the room, to hold her in his arms, to take away the pain he knew was coursing through her.

So he did.

Just in time to feel more than hear the arrival of Cassian and Rhys.

Azriel's eyes met Cassian's, and he saw the surprise and concern written on his brother's face. Rhys' expression mirrored the same emotions, his eyes darting between his mate and Zahra.

Azriel pulled Zahra against him, wrapping her in a tight embrace, shielding her from her sisters' gazes. He could feel the tremors running through her body, the aftershocks of the emotional storm she had just weathered.

“I thought I told you to leave her be,” Rhys said, his voice even.

Azriel didn't loosen his hold on Zahra, his arms still tight around her. He felt her sag against him, weary and emotionally drained.

“We just wanted…” Feyre protested weakly. “We were worried."

“Zahra was with Azriel. What was there to be worried about?” Cassian said drily.

“She’s our sister,” Elain burst out, tears still streaming down her cheeks. “We were just worried for her.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched. Worried for her, now? After all these years? It was too little, too late.

"Now you're worried," he growled, his voice a low rumble. "And where was this worry all those years when she was suffering?"

“Az…” Zahra murmured, her voice soft and broken and he pressed a kiss against his wife’s head

Azriel's anger faded slightly at the sound of her voice. The vulnerability, the sheer rawness of emotion in her words made his heart ache. He held her tighter, his eyes still fixed on her sisters.

“I said it before and I’ll say it again,” Rhys said sharply. “She doesn’t owe you anything and respecting her choices is the least you can give her, if you ever want her to actually talk to you again. If you truly, actually want to try and make amends.”

Elain and Feyre looked stricken, their eyes filled with guilt and remorse. Even Nesta was looking at Zahra, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“But we…we never meant...” Feyre started, only to falter under Rhys’ glare.

“You never meant?” Rhys repeated, his voice hard. “You never meant to hurt her? You never meant to ignore her existence, to never once show any care for her? You didn’t meant to disrespect her choices? Again? For cauldron’s sake, Feyre!”

Zahra flinched at Rhys’ raise voice.

She’s waking, the shadows whispered at that moment.

Given her an out that she needed desperately. 

“Go take care of Azalea,” he whispered in Zahra’s ear. He could nearly feel some imperceptive tension in her frame ease at the sound of their daughter’s name. 

She nodded, giving him a quick squeeze before gently slipping from his embrace. 

The tension in the room felt like a physical weight, the air thick with it.

Azriel couldn't help but watch as his wife walked out of the living room, the door of their bedroom closing behind her.

Silence descended again after she left, the room seeming suddenly empty without her. Azriel turned his attention back to her sisters, meeting their gazes with a cold glare. His gaze lingered on Nesta. The oldest sister, the one who should have protected Zahra, the one who should have seen and understood her struggles. Instead, she had been the most hurtful, the most dismissive.

“How could you?” he said finally, his voice a low rumble, “How could you just ignore her? Your sister? For two decades you just…you just acted like she didn’t exist. And she believed it. She believed she was nothing to you.”

Silence met his words, all three sisters looking guilty and distraught. Even Cassian was quiet, his face grave as he looked at the aftermath of Zahra's emotional upheaval.

Azriel wanted to shake them, to make them understand the depth of the pain they had caused, the damage they had done. He had seen it for himself, the way Zahra had believed she was nothing, the way she had resigned herself to a life of being invisible, of being nothing to her own family.

"How can you say you care for her now," he snarled, his voice sharp, "after you let her suffer alone for so long? How can you pretend that your worry means anything to her after all these years?"

Elain was still crying openly, her hands clutched to her chest. Feyre looked like she was struggling to hold back her tears. But it was Nesta who finally spoke, her voice quiet but intense with emotion.

"We…we never knew…" she whispered. "We should have seen it…should have asked her, should have realized what she was going through…"

Azriel's anger flared again. "You should have," he agreed. "You should have cared enough to ask, to notice, to remember that she was your sister. But you didn’t. You just ignored her, left her alone, abandoned her."

He sighed, the anger embering in his gut. 

“And you know what’s the worst part?” he asked Nesta sharply. “She’ll forgive you. One day, she will forgive you, because you are her sisters. Because she loves you more than you ever deserved her to. Because she’s good right to the bone. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that people don’t take advantage of that part of her,” Azriel said sharply.

The sisters flinched at his words, the truth of them a blow. Feyre looked at him, her eyes pleading, her face wet with tears. Azriel held her gaze, his expression stern.

He knew that Zahra would forgive them one day. He knew that because he knew her heart. And that was what angered him the most. They didn’t deserve her forgiveness, they didn’t deserve her love.

But he also knew that Zahra's forgiveness would not come easily. It would not come without effort, without remorse, without proof that they truly regretted their actions. And even then, he knew it might never truly heal the wounds they had inflicted. 

"Zahra will forgive you," he said coolly, "because she is good and kind. But do not take her forgiveness for granted. Do not presume that she will give it without you earning it."

Nesta nodded, her face white, her gaze fixed on the floor. Azriel could see the guilt, the pain etched into her features. But he knew that it was not enough. Not yet.

"It will take time," he said quietly, "and effort. And you will have to prove, again and again, that you understand the depth of your actions, the harm you caused. And even then, it might not be enough. Because she is my wife now, and she and our daughter are my first priority."

“”From where exactly do you have a daughter?” Feyre blurted out. “She wasn’t…Zahra wasn’t pregnant, was she?”

“The shadows kidnapped her,” he said drily. “They have moral issues with keeping babies in dungeons.”

Feyre's eyes widened, her mouth dropping in shock. Elain gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Even Nesta looked taken aback.

He couldn't help but feel a small pang of satisfaction at their dumbfounded expressions.

***

Zahra had retreated to the safety of the small bedroom, the door tightly shut behind her. The pain, the anger, the years of pent up emotions had all come bursting out in a wave that had left her trembling.

She laid down on the bed, burying her face into the pillow. The sobs came again, a shuddering, bone-deep release of emotion.

Her mind replayed the words she had said, the emotions that had spilled out, the hurt and the pain laced through her voice. It had needed to be said, the truth needed to be laid out. But the aftermath was…messy. The look on her sisters' faces, the shocked expressions…

She couldn't bear to think about it, not right now. All she could do was sob, sobbing into the pillow, her body shaking with the force of her emotions.

A soft coo next to her, and she looked up to find Azalea sleepily reaching out for her.

The sight of her baby girl made her throat constrict. Azalea was blinking up at her, her little hand reaching out for her. The sound of her soft coo only fueled the emotions churning in Zahra's chest.

She reached out, picking up their daughter and cradling her close against her chest. Azalea snuggled against her, her tiny body warm and familiar.

Azalea never screamed. Or cried. Or demanded attention unless she could see them… then she sometimes gave a questioning soft coo, wanting them to interact with her.

Zahra found comfort in the familiarity of her daughter's presence. Azalea was quiet, always quiet, yet always observing, always needing to be part of the action.

She held her tight, her cheek pressed against the soft, downy hair. Azalea cooed again, her hand coming up to pat Zahra's face, almost as if she knew her mother needed comfort.

The tears continued to fall, sliding down Zahra's cheeks and disappearing into Azalea's hair. The pain and the hurt still burned deep, but holding her daughter helped blunt the raw edges. 

She sat there, rocking back and forth gently, her eyes closed, focusing on the weight and warmth of her daughter in her arms, the steady rhythm of Azalea's breathing. Slowly, slowly, her sobs quieted, her racing heart slowing down its panicked pace.

“Come on, let’s go see Daddy.” She said softly.

Azalea cooed in response, her big, innocent eyes looking up at her. Zahra couldn’t help but smile, as she lifted her in her arms, settling her against her hip. 

She stood up, holding Azalea close against her, and made her way towards the door. The silence in the rest of the house was stifling, as if the whole building was holding its breath. Zahra paused outside the door, her heart pounding.

What was happening out there? What were her sisters thinking? What was Azriel thinking?

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, and pushed open the door.

The battle lines had clearly been drawn.

Azriel was standing by the kitchen, his back to the door. His shoulders were tense, his hands clenched into fists. Her sisters were on the other side…Cassian and Rhys right there in the middle, clearly ready to throw themselves in the fray if something did happen.

The silence seemed thick enough to cut with a knife.

Zahra stepped into the room, her heart in her throat. All eyes turned to her, Azriel the first to turn around. His face softened as he took in her appearance - Azalea in her arms, her eyes red and puffy, her face streaked with dried tear tracks.

He held out his hand for her and she fitted herself against his side. His eyes were soft, full of concern and love, but there was a hardness to his features, a flicker in his gaze. He reached out to brush his knuckles over her cheek.

“Are you alright?” he murmured, his voice low. His hand moved to the baby in her arms, gently touching Azalea’s soft hair.

“I will be,” she whispered, looking up at him. The warmth of his touch, the understanding in his eyes eased some of the remaining pain, some of the hurt. “I just...I needed to hold her for a bit.”

Azriel nodded, his eyes lingering on her face for a moment longer before turning to her sisters and the High Lord and Cassian. His expression hardened, his protective instincts clearly flaring at the thought of what they had done to her.

They remained silent, their gazes shifting between her and Azriel. It was Feyre who finally spoke, her voice hesitant.

“Zahra...we -”

“Don’t,” Zahra interrupted, her voice weary but firm. She didn’t want to hear their apologies, not yet. She couldn’t stomach that. Not right now. 

Azriel’s arm slipped around her waist, supporting her.

“I’ll need time,” Zahra said weakly.

“And you’ll have it,” Azriel said firmly, his arm tightening around her. He met the gazes of her sisters, his eyes hard as steel. “As much time as you need.”

”I am so sorry,” Feyre breathed, her eyes fixed on Azalea.

Zahra couldn’t help herself as she pulled her daughter nearer to herself.

Azriel tensed beside her, his arm around her waist like a vise. The sight of her sister’s apology, the look on her face...it was too much, too soon. Zahra took a ragged breath, trying to calm the rush of emotions in her chest.

“I need time,” she repeated, somehow managing to keep her voice from shaking too badly. “I - I just...I need time.”

Feyre nodded, tears spilling over her cheeks. “I understand,” she choked out. “I just...I never wanted to hurt you, but I did and I…”

Zahra felt Azriel's grip on her tighten, his body rigid with barely controlled anger.

She placed a hand on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart under her palm. “It’s alright,” she repeated, more for his benefit than her sisters’.

She couldn’t look at Feyre anymore, the sight of her tears making her own heart ache. She turned her gaze to the other two, her eyes locking with Nesta and Elain.

They were watching her silently, a mix of guilty sorrow and regret on their faces. Elain’s usually soft features were pinched with shame, Nesta’s cold expression betraying a hint of remorse.

And they were staring at her baby. “What’s…what’s her name?” Nesta asked, her voice shaky.

“Azalea,” Azriel answered, his voice hard. Zahra felt a flicker of satisfaction at his cold tone. He wasn’t going to forgive them easily, not after witnessing the pain they had caused her.

Elain looked stricken, her eyes wide. “She’s beautiful,” she whispered. Nesta simply nodded, her eyes glued to the baby.

Zahra felt a small pang in her heart at Elain’s words. She knew the compliment was sincere, but there was also a pang of hurt, a reminder of the years of silence, the years of being ignored.

She pulled Azalea closer, her grip instinctive and protective.

Azriel’s hand was rubbing circles on her hip, grounding her, reassuring her. 

“Thank you,” Zahra brought out.

“She looks like Azriel,” Nesta said suddenly.

“She is biologically his niece,“ Cassian said flatly. “But she is Azriel’s and Zahra’s daughter.”

There was a moment of silence, the statement echoing through the room. Azriel’s breath hitched beside her, his grip on her hip tightening for a moment. The implications of the words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the unconventional ways in which Azalea had come to be.

Zahra, however, felt a strange sense of calm. The words were merely stating a fact, a truth that could not be denied. “She’s ours,” she agreed with Cassian, sticking out her chin, daring her sisters to say something. But they didn’t.

Nesta swallowed. “Congratulations,” she said softly, much to Zahra’s shock. “She’s adorable.”

Zahra blinked, surprised at the unexpected well wish. The words seemed almost genuine.

“Thank you,” Zahra murmured, her voice soft.  Azriel’s hand tensed on her hip again, his protectiveness on full display. Zahra could see the muscles in his jaw clenching, his eyes flicking between her sisters and their daughter.

The room was filled with a strange sort of tension. She should have known that it was gonna be Cassian that had absolutely no problem with breaking it with a bright grin, waggling his fingers in Azalea's direction who immediately reached out for him.

“She likes me,” the general chuckled, his usual easy smile plastered on his face. "I am clearly the favourite uncle."

Rhys rolled his eyes, the tension breaking somewhat. “She just want to grab your fingers, you oaf.”

“Nah, she’s smart, she knows who the cool uncle is,” Cassian retorted, reaching out to hold Azalea’s little hands in his bigger ones. Azalea cooed, grabbing hold of his fingers with a serious expression, her tiny hands looking laughably small in his grasp.

Azriel rolled his eyes but the tension in his shoulders relaxed a little, his gaze fixed on their daughter. It was hard, even for him, to stay completely serious and protective when the Lord of Bloodshed was making funny faces at Azalea and she was giggling like a little maniac.

Zahra couldn’t help but smile at the scene, the tension in the room slowly easing. 

Azalea’s giggle was like a ray of sunshine, bright and pure. She was usually quite reserved, her emotions more often than not kept hidden, but she was clearly enjoying the attention.

Cassian, meanwhile, couldn’t resist the temptation to start pretending he was eating her fingers, making exaggerated ‘nom nom’ sounds and grinning widely when Azalea shrieked with delight.

Even Azriel couldn’t help but smile at the sight, the corner of his lips curving up. It was impossible not to be charmed by Azalea’s infectious happiness.

Feyre chuckled, her earlier tears wiped away now. Even Rhys and Nesta looked less tense, their gazes on Azalea as she continued to pull on Cassian’s fingers.

There was a part of Zahra that wanted to hold on to the good moment, to bask in the relief provided by Azalea’s laughter and Cassian’s antics. But the elephant in the room was still there…

She knew there was more that needed to be said, more that needed to be discussed. The pain, the hurt, the years of silent isolation… She couldn’t simply ignore it all now just because Azalea was being cute.

Despite this, she didn’t know how to start, how to voice her hurt without the pain and the anger taking over again.

Azriel seemed to sense her turmoil, his hand on her hip moving to the small of her back, gently rubbing soothing circles.

“We need to talk,” she said, her voice steeling. "We will talk. Soon. But not now. When I am ready. And not when you decided that you need to apologise because you feel bad."

Her sisters nodded, their expressions solemn. It was Feyre who spoke up, her eyes wide and sincere.

“Of course,” she said, her voice low. “We will wait until you’re ready, just… just know that we do want to change, to fix things…”

Nesta and Elain nodded silently, their gazes fixed on Azalea who was still grabbing at Cassian's fingers.

Azriel’s hand on her back began to rub soothing circles again, his silent support grounding her. She took comfort in his presence, in the knowledge that he was right behind her, ready to back her up.

“We understand,” Nesta spoke up suddenly, her voice more firm than it had been before. “We will be patient. We will wait.”

Even Elain, who was usually the more soft-spoken sister, nodded emphatically. 

Azriel's hand on her back tensed, but he remained silent. His whole body was taut with suppressed anger and the need to protect, but he held himself in check, letting her handle the conversation.

“Thank you,” Zahra said quietly, her voice a little stronger now. 

Feyre smiled softly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “We won’t try to make excuses or to justify our actions,” she said, her words firm like a promise. “We messed up, we own that. We’ll wait until you’re ready and then we’ll listen. No interruptions, no excuses, no defenses.”

Zahra would believe that when she experienced it.

Azriel's hand on her back continued rubbing soothing circles, as if sensing the scepticism in her mind. He was still wary of her sisters, unwilling to trust their word so easily.

But he was also willing to take her lead on this.

Azriel was many things, but he respected boundaries and choices. He would always give her the space and the time she needed to deal with things her own way, while still being a steadying presence, a quiet strength by her side.

Despite his reservations, he was trying hard to keep his own anger and opinions to himself. But she knew him well enough to sense the tension in his body, the way his muscles kept clenching and unclenching, evidence of the restraint it was taking him to keep quiet.

The others in the room likely noticed it as well. Nesta and Elain were both discreetly watching him, their expressions wary. Even Cassian, who was usually oblivious to these things, was stealing quick glances in his direction.

“Just… just give me some time,” she said quietly, her eyes flickering to each of her sisters in turn. They all nodded, their faces solemn.

Cassian was the next to speak, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Take as much time as you need, Zahra.”

It was strange, hearing a tone from the usually brash and boisterous general she hadn’t thought him capable of. But his words were genuine, his expression sincere. And coming from Cassian, saying that was just one more reminder of how much her relationship with her sisters had been damaged.

Azriel's hand on her back squeezed briefly, a silent signal of his agreement.

The others remained quiet, their gazes flickering between her and Azriel. It was a strange dance they were all doing, a careful balancing act of emotions and words left unsaid.

But it was something. Something closer to peace than she ever thought she would have.

"Whatever you need," Rhysand promised, fiercely. The High Lord’s voice was firm and unwavering, the power evident in his words.

Zahra could sense the sincerity in them, the genuine regret and determination. It wasn’t enough yet, not nearly enough after all that had happened, but it was a start.

It was something.

The support from her sisters, the promises from Rhysand and Cassian…

They were something. A foundation to start rebuilding on.

The road to forgiveness would be long and rocky, she was sure of that. 

Azriel's hand on her back squeezed again, silently reassuring her.

Her eyes met his for a brief moment, the look in them speaking more than any words could.

In the warm, deep hazel of his eyes she saw worry, determination, a hint of anger and a lot of love. She saw acceptance and support, understanding and patience.

And she knew that no matter what she decided, no matter how long it took her, he would be there with her. Always.

***

Notes:

I could probably write another 16 chapters in this story, but I do feel like right now it's an alright space to stop. A bit of an open ending, with a kinda hopeful look in the future.

[rhysazriel]

Kinktober Day 3: Toys

A/N: I was considering making it a Modern AU but I had an idea for this one and just went with it hehe. 18+ only!! Includes sexual themes and use of sex toys!!

Kinktober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Strong arms snaked around your middle, disturbing your thoughts as you stirred the soup. A head rested atop you shoulder, a familiar sense of curls tickling the side of your face.

He brought his lips to your ear, soft and gentle as they caressed the skin in a ghost of a kiss. “I have a surprise for you.”

You tried to fight the fluttering of your lashes at the sound of his voice—deep and sultry—the voice he used too often in attempts to sway you to the bedroom.

“Oh?” You swallowed, resuming the stirring. “What’s the occasion?”

Azriel nipped at your earlobe, moving lower to flatten his tongue against the ridge of your jaw. “No occasion, I just have a gift for you...seeing as I’m being sent away on another mission at dawn.”

A discontented sigh slipped your lips at the reminder. It was becoming an issue; how often Rhys was sending your mate away. Az would be sent away for a week, return for a short thirty-six hours, before leaving again for another four to five days.

You understood his job, his duties. But nothing prepared you for these random spurts of hardly seeing your lover. During most of his missions, Azriel would have to close off the bond between you both. You’d be left alone, empty. Missing him and having no way to communicate.

It made you bitter. You wondered how Rhys and Feyre would cope if the roles were reversed for a month.

“So an apology gift?”

Azriel chuckled softly into the nape of your neck. “It’s a gift that benefits the both of us.” He reached a hand toward the stove, shutting off the flame and prying your fingers from the ladle.

He lifted you to sit on the counter, standing between your parted legs. You smiled at his frame still towering over you. He retrieved a slender box from within the shadows, lifting it between your bodies.

Hesitantly, you removed the lid, blue tissue paper now hiding your gift. Azriel held his breath as you moved it out of the way, watching as your eyes widened and pupils dilated.

"Azzy..." You took the toy in, fingers grazing down the feigned veins of the shaft.

Azriel hissed. "I had it magically made," he explained, his hand reaching for your face. "It's a replica of... well, mine. It's enchanted, too. Whatever you do to it... I will feel it."

Your eyes were glued to the toy–the toy that looked exactly like Azriel's cock. It's colouring the same shade, the veins in the same places. The length and width just as delicious as the real thing.

"So...you want me to use this on myself? When you're gone on missions?"

He nodded his head, his thumb stroking against your cheek. "We can talk through the bond... but on those long missions, I'll still be able to feel you and make you feel good."

Your bottom lip caught between your teeth. "Can we try it?" You look up at him. "Can you use it on me now? Show me what to do."

The darkness in his eyes exploded, his grip on your neck tightening.

Azriel grabbed the cock from the gift box, his eyes closing a the sensation he could feel in his boxers. He lowered it between your thighs, slinking his hand up your dress.

"I can smell how soaked you are, sweetheart. Is this exciting you?"

You nodded pathetically, spreading your thighs wider. The cotton of your underwear clung to you like a second skin, the wetness seeping through the fabric.

One of Azriel's shadows darted to your cunt, tugging your ruined panties to the side to give its master access. Azriel ran the tip of the cock through your folds, a shaky breath leaving his lips as a whimper left yours.

"I can feel how soaked you are." He kept his eyes on you, but you understood. His cock was bloating in his pants, he could feel you there, enticing him in.

"I'm gonna fuck you with this toy and then I'll fuck you with the real thing."