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littlestarlightseverywhere · 1 year ago

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This Love

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel would set the world on fire if it that’s what it took for his mate believe she deserves his love

Warnings: None

Notes: Hiii! This is my first ACOTAR fic on tumblr! Az is my man my man my mannnn and I just love thinking about him. Here’s a little something that came to mind when I was listening to “This Love” by Taylor Swift

Image Credit: “This Love” Taylor’s Version lyric video

Azriel sat hunched over in the plush velvet chair in Rhysand’s office. His elbows dug into his strong thighs as he clasped his hands together, focusing on the slow, mindless movement of his thumb over the ball of his knuckle.

“I think the Cauldron got it wrong.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian asserted eloquently.

“The Cauldron doesn’t simply ‘get things wrong’,” Rhysand said softly from where he leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed contemplatively over his chest. Cassian, lounging in the chair across from Azriel, threw his hands in the air.

“It takes longer for some people than others, you know.”

“I knew far before Feyre did,” Rhysand supplemented.

“Anyone with eyes can tell how she feels about you. It’s beyond me you don’t see the way she looks at you, brother.”

Azriel was at a loss. Pining after the same woman for decades proved brutal on the heart. Downright treacherous, really, considering he felt the mating bond snap a long time ago and she had given almost no indication she felt anything of the like.

He knew she liked him in the way a person “likes” their best friend who knows them inside out, has been with them through every insignificant or life-altering moment, and embraces every part of them– even the messy bits. No, Azriel had no doubt in his mind that she loved him. She’d said as much multiple times, which left him feeling even more confused.

He didn’t want to push her for fear of ruining what they already had. Things were good, he’d even go so far as to say things were perfect between the two of them. He knew he wasn’t a knight in shining armor, the picture of good, and there were many things he’d done wrong to get to where he is today. Still, she was the one thing he did right. The best part about his life. Whether she knew it or not, it was his truth and he swore if it came down to it, he’d stand to do right by her before Prythian.

“She just has everything together. I don’t want to take up space in a life where she has everything figured out. We are in good places in each other's lives. I would hate to pressure her to change any of it for me.”

“You say that as if you'd be ruining her life,” Cassian’s anger simmered to a sadness. “She’d never think that.”

“And what about you?” Rhysand interjected. “You’re breaking your own heart waiting for her to feel the bond snap. Maybe you need to help her on.”

“I would never put her on the spot like that.”

“I wasn’t suggesting–”

“What if she’d rejected the bond somehow?” Azriel stood up, legs suddenly overcome with the sensation of a thousand little fire ants devouring his skin.

“Now you’re just making shit up.” Cassian huffed, returning to anger.

“How else can any of this be possible? How can she be so oblivious?”

“There is one way,” Rhys offered, suddenly solemn.

Azriel and Cassian looked to their brother expectantly. Azriel felt his heart hammer against his chest in anticipation. A reason was good. A reason was a start. A reason meant that there was a way out of this purgatory he found himself in.

“I read it in one of Amren’s books a long time ago,” Rhys locked eyes with Azriel. “When the mating bond has snapped into place for one of the fae in the pair and the other has absolutely no indication of it, usually it is a sign that they are not looking for a mating bond at all.”

“A lot of people don’t go looking for it,” Cassian reasoned. “I myself was more of the let-it-happen-when-it-will type.”

“Not looking for it in the sense that they don’t believe they deserve it. In the way that perhaps it's simply not meant for them.”

Silence fell over the three males. Azriel felt his heart shatter, pieces of it falling deep into his gut, turning it over and making him uneasy.

“If anyone doesn’t deserve this it’s me.” Azriel whispered.

“Don’t,” Cassian warned.

Rhys continued softly. “When they believe that, they inadvertently shield themselves from feeling anything… including a bond even if it does exist. A defense mechanism of sorts.”

The body protecting itself from heartbreak so painful that it registered it as a physical ailment. Azriel was going to be sick.

He couldn’t believe the love of his life felt that way. He wondered for how long she’d lived with such a belief, how long she’d been giving him her love while accepting none of his. He wanted to tear down the mountains around Velaris, move them, raise them, turn them to dust, anything he could manage to get her to believe him when he told her he loved her.

He barely felt he deserved her at all. It made him queasy with devotion and grief that she loved him enough to ever think she was the undeserving one.

Azriel was so far past worrying that she did not feel the mating bond anymore. All he cared about was making sure she knew she was loved by him in a way that brought him to his knees.

Her second favorite part of the year after Winter Solstice: Starfall.

Elaine spent most of the day in the kitchen with Nuala and Cerridwen. Mor, Feyre, Nesta sat on her bed, lounging on the expansive mattress before it was time to get ready for the party.

While everyone else had their dresses picked out, she was still between options.

“Okay, option one.” She stepped out from behind the dressing screen, twirling dramatically in a golden trumpet dress that shimmered like woven sunlight.

Mor howled and Nesta smirked in satisfaction.

She turned to look into the mirror and study her body. She felt her heart palpitate as her mind immediately dared to wonder what Azriel would think. Would he like it? She shook my head quickly to clear the thoughts. It didn’t matter what he thought anyway.

Feyre sat back, tilting her head with a look in her eyes she couldn’t quite place. “It’s not bad. I caught a glimpse of the other gown earlier…” The ends of her mouth curled upwards.

The second dress was her personal favorite too. A silk, dark navy sheath that hung from her curves elegantly. It shimmered of silver and lavender under the light like the stars had been gathered from the sky and threaded into the material, one by one.

“Yes.” All three chanted at the same time as soon as she walked out again, clad in the dress that looked like it had been made only for her. There was no room for theatrics as her best friends gazed approvingly.

She did not need to look in the mirror to know this is the dress she wanted to wear. After all, she loved the color blue.

The rest of the girls got ready before she did. She went back and forth on hairstyles and makeup multiple times. Nuala and Cerridwen were more than patient, as were her friends who all waited downstairs for her before they’d leave for the House of Wind together.

“This is as good as it will get, I suppose,” She looked in the mirror one final time before descending the stairs that led to the living room below.

As soon as she neared the middle of the stairs, a shadow slipped around her ankle and up her bare arm, sending goosebumps in its wake. It slipped back down her arms gently, like a lover’s admiring touch, and down the stairs again.

Azriel was the first to turn. His senses were always tuned to her without his knowledge or deliberate effort. Her presence was like a beacon in his darkness. A lighthouse to his boat on treacherous waters. He could sense her in a crowded room in a heartbeat just by the way his heart would pound and his skin would warm.

Their eyes locked and he felt a pull in his chest. Almost with a start, he realized it wasn’t even the mating bond, though it also hummed within him. Even despite the mating bond, tender yearning filled his chest at the sight of her standing at the bottom of the stairs now. Pure love. The Cauldron blessed him this one time, perhaps the only time it ever would, giving him the mate it did. Yet he knew, especially in that moment as he drank in the sight of her glowing skin, shy smile, and deep eyes, he would love her even if they were not bound together in this way. He knew he’d choose her over and over and over again. He’d give anything to have her look at him the way she was right now, forever.

Still, Azriel’s heart wrenched as he recalled why she couldn’t feel the mating bond– this thing that crooned and moaned, twisted and sung, wrenched and wrested to be felt by the only other person in the world who it belonged to, not understanding why it hit a wall everytime it tried to reach out to its other half. His other half.

Something like pride came over Azriel as he noticed everyone else stop and stare. Their friends welcomed her with hugs and kisses and compliments and he watched her be loved and by all of their friends. He wanted to say something as their eyes met again. What would he say first? Azriel had a waterfall of words teetering at the tip of his tongue, flowing straight from the pits of his heart, but supposed telling her she was beautiful was a good start.

But before he could say anything, Mor gathered her and Elaine into her arms before winnowing them to the House. Feyre, Nesta, and Amren followed them a second later.

Cassian clapped Azriel on the shoulder, a rare, soft smile on his lips. “Don’t waste another day, brother.”

With Varian uncomfortably nestled in Cassian arms, they were off to the House too.

The celebration was grand as usual. Food and drink flowed from every corner of the room and everyone danced without a second to rest.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She danced with her friends for the longest time; Mor swirled her around the room and Nesta challenged her to keep up.

He stayed within the chattering crowd that boxed in the dance floor, sipping mulled wine and adjusting a fine thread on his jacket every now and again.

She excused herself from Nesta’s ceaseless dancing for some air. Her face was flushed, body warm, but she was happy. Once she reached the doors to the balcony and closed them behind her, she reveled in the immediate silence that followed.

The night air was cool on her flushed skin, the wind a caressing and most welcome touch.

A few minutes later, she heard the balcony door open behind her. Of course she didn’t need to turn around to see who it was. It was the only person that would follow her anywhere, no questions asked.

“Are you quite parched, yet?”

She turned around to find Azriel standing there, tall, broad, and beautiful, with two glasses of mulled wine.

“Quite.” She affirmed with a smile. He walked toward her until they were elbow to elbow, as close as he dared, before handing her the glass. She proposed they toasted to the spirits, who would begin their migration soon, for a safe journey. He obliged.

They sipped their wine in a comfortable silence. Any minute now the show would begin and everyone would move to the main balcony to watch and continue their dancing. This smaller balcony was perfect for just the two of them.

“You look beautiful tonight.” Azriel said as he did not bother to observe the first few stars that crossed the sky in glittery streaks of silver and gold. Next to her, everything else paled in comparison.

Her heart trembled at the compliment. It wasn’t the first compliment he’d given her, far from it, but coming from him they always meant so much.

With the wine in her system, accompanied with whatever was in Cassian’s flask when it was offered to her an hour ago, she said. “I wore this dress for you.”

The choice of color was not lost on him. The next few stars that soared across the sky caused his inky blue siphons to glisten in their glittery light. A perfect match to her silk.

“It suits you.” Azriel hated that his heart was hammering like this. He felt the love in his chest hum like a magnet, the bond snap like a rubber band against his lungs, stealing their air.

She didn’t say anything, only turned to look at him and he did not back away from her eye contact. Only returned it with such intensity that they now spoke with their eyes, a conversation that could never be expressed with mere words, an exchange between soulmates that remained only between them, not even the sky and stars privy to those thoughts.

Before his mind could refuse or reason with him, he closed the gap between the two of them, taking her elbow in his large hands. She allowed him to guide her to his strong body, eager to follow his lead.

His hands dropped to her waist, a respectable distance above her hips, though she would be pleased if he dared to go lower.

“I think about you all the time.” He spoke softly as he drew her as close as she could get. Their bodies were touching, and she was sure he could feel her heart hammering like a bird trying to take flight in a locked cage.

“You don’t,” She whispered as the stars began to rain across the sky in glimmering streams of light. Her mind screamed at her to pull away, to stop before she made a fool of herself. But her body forced her to stay put, to soak in his warmth, the feeling of him against her, to allow herself to indulge in this.

“I do.” His voice was strong, tone resolute. He held her gaze. “I would never lie. Not to you. You are the one thing in my life I would spend the rest of my immortality living for. You’ve captivated me since the moment I met you and if it takes the rest of my life to prove it, I would gladly call it my life’s work. I can’t keep this from you any longer. If that makes me selfish…”

She reached her hand out to cup his jaw. He leaned into it immediately. Her touch was soft against his face and he thought about how nice it would be to stay like this forever.

Starfall was in full effect. Music and laughter from the other balcony was but a distant, muffled, chorus to him and he watched the shine of the raining stars reflect off of her eyes and skin. Like a work of art, he observed. My mate, my mate, my mate, his insides thrummed.

He couldn’t take it any longer. He understood the look in her eyes, the silent permission, the mutual yearning. In an act of mercy, blessing, and loss of control, he slanted his lips over hers, dropping his hands lower on her waist, shifting one to her lower back to support how flush to his body he held her.

She wrapped his arms around his neck, damning the voices in her head telling her none of this was real, that he’d regret it and take it all back in the morning. Deep down she knew even if other men would, Azriel would never. She gave into him, leaned into him, let him in everywhere he demanded it.

She didn’t think about how long she spent in his arms, connected to him like this. Her breath hitched as he felt her squeeze her waist and use the hand that was at the small of her back to travel upward caressingly, taking his time to feel her skin, the dips and planes of her body through the silk, to rest at the back of her neck.

Azriel was so wholly in love he didn’t even have to think about his next move or any kind of thought. Being with her was natural, like second nature.

She pulled away just long enough to breathe, caressing his swollen bottom lip with her thumb as she moved to hold his jaw. He smiled drunkenly at her, watching as she blushed and indulged herself in the feel of his face.

As the stars rained over Velaris in glittering dashes across the perfect canvas of the night sky, she stood with Azriel, holding him as he held her, suddenly keenly aware of what it felt like to be loved by him.

Azriel’s eyes softened in realization, relief, as he felt the hum of the bond break through his chest for the first time in decades. It extended outward freely, like a bird let loose, soaring like the stars in the sky to meet its other half.

She gasped softly as she felt a snap in her chest. A snap that realigned worlds, parted clouds, mended something broken, that marked a shift in time.

She understood.

“Az…” she whispered, almost wanting to not believe it.

He nodded, letting her feel his touch as she worked through the new emotions.

“How long have you known?” She brought her arms down from his neck to hold his hands. His bigger palms enveloped hers easily, warm and strong. Sure.

“Decades.” He shook his head slightly as if it was common sense he’d been in love with her for so long, refusing to break eye contact with her.

“And all this time… you waited? You never– I never thought…”

“I can’t think of anything else I’d want to spend my entire life loving.” He swept a lock of her hair behind her ear to see her better. To remind himself this wasn’t a dream, not this time.

She allowed Azriel to pull her in again, savoring the way his lips tasted, how soft they felt, the way he held her like she’d vanish if he even lifted a finger. It was a grasp that made her want for nothing anymore. Everything she wanted was right here.

“It seems,” she breathed, slightly out of breath after they pulled away again. “I’ve kept you waiting for quite some time.”

“I’d wait any amount of time for you.” He murmured, running his thumb back and forth over the nape of her neck. “I’d do anything.”

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readychilledwine · 11 months ago

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Little One

Summary - After arriving home for the first time in 50 years, Rhysand is shocked to find someone so small in his sister's arms. (Azriel x Rhysands sister!oc)

Warnings - post UTM, broken Rhys, children

A/N - If this has posted, I have given birth and this is kicking off my maternity celebration. A lot of these next couple weeks will carry the theme of family. The good, bad, ugly, and happy sides of it. And of course, the angst and spice that comes with relationships. I wanted to start with a piece I wrote after my own brothers learned they were going to be Uncles for the first time, and will probably end the celebration with Light in the Hallway (dad!Eris x reader) because that piece is so... special to me.

"Well, welcome home!" Rhys nodded, looking at Cassian who was wearing a shit eating grin. Cassian kept looking at Azriel and back to Rhys. The high lord looked at Mor who was bouncing in place. Then Armen who was also hiding a smile.

Azriel was blushing, hiding in his shadows. Rhys was quick to notice the lack of black hair, golden skin, and long beautiful legs that normally stood holding Azriel's hands at all times. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Where's my sister?" Mor squealed at the comment, bouncing hard.

"You mean his wife?" Azriel shot a look to the blonde before his face grew more red. Rhys raised a brow before smiling ferally.

"Did you finally marry her? Azriel, that's-" Rhys face twitched to a half smile as the door opened and a familiar, "Where's my mate?" Came through the room.

He felt her exhaustion before he saw her. Her mind was a scattered mess of stress, and yet she was content and joyful. Rhys walked over to the doorway to the hall. He leaned against the framed out entry way from the greeting room to the living room watching the female.

Selene stood in the entrance, back to him as she removed her coat and then her heeled shoes. She was wearing a beautiful tea length black dress with tulle straps that tied over her shoulders. Her hair was longer, significantly longer, Rhys noted. "Stop staring Cassian."

Rhys smiled at the soft melody of her voice. The gentleness it held was a constant fresh air that comforted everyone around her. He cleared his throat, excited to see his baby sister for the first time in 50 years, "I apologize, Sel. I can't help but admire your beauty when I haven't laid eyes on you in so long." Selene instantly froze, her mind pausing to process the voice she heard. She moved again, standing up and stopping whatever she had been adjusting on the floor. She spun quickly, staring at him in shock.

He studied her face. It was truly the soft version of his. She had the same angular high cheekbones, the same starlight filled eyes, the same lip shape only hers were fuller. In fact, she in general was softer, fuller. She had gained a little weight, her breasts were fuller, hips a little wider. She was devastatingly beautiful before, but whatever had made her body scream "goddess" had Rhys thankful she was one of his spies and had not run off to another court.

She whispered softly, "Rhys."

"Selene."

They moved at the same time, her jumping into his chest, her arms finding his neck, his finding her waist. They laughed softly together. Rhysand's eyes closed as he took in the pleasant warmth of her body and the scent of flowers and honey. It took him a second, but his nose slowly processed something else. He dug his head into her neck, finding the scent of night air and cedar that clung to her skin. But there was something else.

Someone else. Rhysand's eyes snapped open while studying her. "Are you and Azriel welcoming other people into your bed again?" He smiled ferally at her, "The shields only been down for a day. He must be a good lover if you already ran off to him?"

The female threw her head back, her laughter ringing through the home like bells. She looked at Rhys, "One, your shields weren't that hard for me to get through. Two, we kind of are. Go sit on the couch and shut your eyes!"

Rhys raised a brow before following the orders of his sister. Mor was about to burst with joy, already holding back tears, Cassian was beaming. Armen smiled at Azriel as the shadowsinger softly smiled at Rhys. The high lord closed his eyes, "If this was a plot to kill me, just know im thankful it was your hands and not someone elses." Her laughter made him smile again as he heard her moving towards him.

The scent hit him again, stronger this time. He could finally place it. It was soft and spicy, as if it was still developing and wrapped heavily in the scent of Azriel. It reminded him of lavender and vanilla underneath all of the layer. Lavender, vanilla, and baby powder? Rhys questioned.

Rhys felt Selene's arms on his. She was moving gently and staying very quiet. In fact, the whole room had grown quiet as Rhys processed a soft fabric in his arms. As she removed her arms, leaving whatever she was holding in his hands, it hit him instantly. His eyes shot open, and a loud sob left his mouth.

"You had a fucking baby." Bright eyes stared back up at Rhys, studying him as Rhys raised a hand to stroke the rosy cheeks of the faeling in his arms. "Hi baby," He felt the first tear fall and didn't bother trying to hide the rest. "I'm your Uncle Rhys. What's your name?"

Azriel had moved, kneeling in front of Rhysand. He cooed his daughter softly as she stared up at her uncle with wide blue eyes. His blue eyes. His sister's blue eyes. "This is Estelle. She's just under a year old. I'm sorry we couldn't ask you about the name, but we just -" Selene and Azriel's jaws twitched. Selene had looked away and up, blocking the painful reminder.

"We knew," Cassian answered softly. "She looks just like sissy."

"She does." Rhys admired the tiny nose, chubby cheeks, and her perfect soft skin as he enjoyed this moment with his niece. She looked like a small version of his middle sister, the only key different was she had the same eyes as Rhys and Selene instead of the illyrian Hazel her namesake had inherited from his mother.

He held a hand out for Selene to take and the new mother did, moving to sit next to him. "Do you have everything she needs in all the houses?"

"We were only missing one thing, Rhys. And you're here now, so we have everything she needs," she answered softly, tears running down her own face. "I owe you some money and an apology, though. I had to break the shield for me to be able to get into Velaris, but I ensured Noone recognized me. I also spent a fair bit of money." She was playing with her long dark hair, guilt causing her shoulders to fall forward. "Cassian told me nothing she has could be used."

The high lord laughed, pulling his sister into him before kissing her head, "Oh no, how could you spend the money I would have spent on my niece anyways?" The sarcasm in his tone made the room laugh. "Should we get you and mommy matching dresses? Yes we should. My beautiful girls," Az hung his head in laughter before Rhys paused again, "You can feel the power in this little thing."

"She creates shadows-" Selene drug out the "s" as she avoided eye contact with Rhys.

"They're completely sentient. They have a mind of their own and only respond to her. They take the form of things she likes. Lately they have all looked like Armen. We also think something else is going on involving the stars. She almost… Glitters under the night sky." Azriel explained as his hand touched her head. Rhys looked to Amren, and the ancient being only smirked as she sipped her glass of spiced blood. Any ideas? He asked her silently.

Rhysand's eyes grew wide as he smirked at the giggling babe, her beautiful eyes locked on Auntie Amren, "Delightful. Tell me everything about her." The inner circle all moved to surround the High lord and new parents. Telling him stories about the baby girl chewing on his fingers before reaching out crying for her mother.

"I watched her rearrange the stars one night," Amren said slowly. "She must have missed Baba, because there's now a bat shaped constellation that wasn't there before. Isn't there, little one?"

"She's hungry. I'm sorry. I'll bring her right back," Selene moved with grace, collecting her daughter, and walking up the stairs, breast already mostly exposed as she cooed to the baby.

Rhys looked at Azriel and asked one last time, "You're sure you have everything she needs?"

Azriel smiled, "Like she said, you were the only thing missing. Stell has everything she needs, and I know we all will give her everything she could ever want." The inner circle nodded at the Spymaster's words. "Right now, the biggest argument we've had was if she'd continue tradition and we would take her to Illyria to train, or if we'd keep her here."

Rhysand watched as Cassian's jaw began a feather light twitch. "My niece is not training in Illyria unless things have changed completely and clipping is an offense punishable by death. Even then I will not leave her."

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose. "So we forsake our culture? You and I know that will never happen. She will always be a target-"

"Another time, brothers." Rhysand smiled at them, stopping the argument that was about to ensure. "I'm taking the two of them shopping tomorrow. I'm buying everything Selene touches. I don't believe you have everything my little niece needs." Rhysand wanted to hear it one last time. To hear what she and Azriel both said and genuinely meant just one more time.

Azriel rolled his eyes, "She will not let you do that, Rhys. All that was missing was you."

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel #rhysand acotar #rhys acotar #azriel x rhysands sister! reader #elizabeths.maternitycelebration

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profound-imagination · 4 months ago

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Flightless (Reimagined) - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N - Okay so this is a rewritten version of this fic - I really hope you enjoy.

T/W: Very brief mention of S/A it isn't talked about in detail, the R word isn't used but please keep yourselves safe and don't read if at all triggering for you. Talks of violence.

W/C: 7.7K

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Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a deep breath, steeled yourself against the biting cold, and approached one of the most terrifying males you knew. You wanted to do this, wanted to learn. "Excuse me, Lord Devlon?" He took his sweet time before he looked at you, before he acknowledged you. "What is it, girl?" He asked, no malice in his voice, but it wasn't kind either. "I was wondering if it would be acceptable for me to join training with the other girls in the mornings?" The two warriors next to him snorted, the third sneered, "What use would you be, girl? Your wings weren't even clipped, I don’t think there's a word for what happened to your wings, your missing half of one and the other is bent all wrong." A shudder ran through you at the memory, the agony, the heartbreak of never being able to feel the wind again, of never being able to answer its call again.

Devlon paled slightly as he looked past you and snapped at the three warriors with him to get back to work, the third still sneering at you as he went. "I survived sir." You told Devlon quietly, "I survived what happened to me, I'm strong enough to train like an Illyrian." He ran a hand down his face, and you felt someone approach behind you, you did not turn but your spin straightened, and your broken wings flared as best as they could. "You'll get yourself killed, you'll be thrown into the Rite, just like the others. Besides, we start training as children, your age is against you." You looked up at him and met his eyes, "I can do this sir, please, let me try." He opened his mouth to reply but another voice came from behind you. "Why do you want to train so badly?" You turned slowly only to be met by the Lord of Bloodshed himself. The General of the Night Court stood tall, proud, and strong. The wind was whipping the lose pieces of his hair around his face. Seven ruby red siphons glinted in the sun. You had never seen him up close, but from here you almost crumbled under how powerful he clearly was.

"I was held down as they mutilated my wings, my Lord. I was helpless, I couldn’t defend myself, I didn’t know how to." You could have sworn the air thickened, and the sky darkened as the Shadowsinger and the High Lord himself approached. "Who took your wings?” Cassian growled, glaring at Devlon as he did. “Well, it didn’t happen here!” Devlon snapped at the General who bared his teeth in response. These two clearly were not friends. “It happened at the Ironcrest Camp.” You told him quickly, your nerves fraying due to looks being exchanged between the two males you currently stood between, the last thing you wanted was to be caught between two fighting Illyrians. “This camp has been good to me.” You continued. “Devlon.” The High Lord greeted, “Rhysand.” Devlon gritted back. “Why won’t you train the girl?” Rhysand asked and Devlon gestured towards you, “Look at her, she’s in no shape to train, to fight. She wouldn’t last an hour in the Rite.” Rhysand studied you, “What happened to your wings?” He asked, his star flecked eyes meeting your own. “This isn’t a traditional clipping.” He said and you shuddered against the memory. “Let me see.” He said as you felt his power caressing your mind and then there, he was, in the middle of that night with you.

Ironcrest was cold. Colder than Windhaven. There was a reason it was known as the cruellest camp, and it wasn’t just the biting weather that gave it that reputation. You were making your way back to your decrepit tent after clearing up after dinner. The males, as usual had eaten more than their share, your own you had split between the few daughters of the camp. Those who were discarded as soon as they were born. Urchins the males referred to them as. Stomach cramping with hunger you prayed to the Mother you wouldn’t run into Malakai, the Lord's son, the Male with the cruellest reputation, one that was well earned. You felt a flinch on the edge of the memory, and you knew it was the High Lord sensing your fear as you continued to walk through the dark. You had seen Malakai at dinner, drinking heavily and you knew that would do nothing to improve the perpetual sense of rage he seemed to live in. He, for some reason, had taken a shine to you and not in a good or kind way. You could see your tent in the distance, so so close, when all of a sudden, a hand wrapped around your mouth, trapping any sound, another arm around your waist, trapping your already weak wings from the lack of flying, females were not to be seen in the sky here, most of which had already been clipped. Everything went black before you could react. When you woke, three males surrounded you, Malakai and his two, equally sadistic friends. They were a band of brothers, much like the High Lord, the General and the Shadowsinger. You weren’t sure why you thought about them in that moment, maybe because they’d be the only ones to save you, but they wouldn’t come and why would they? You felt Rhysand flinch again at the thought.

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Malakai crooned at you, you didn’t look at him, you kept your gaze downcast. A good, submissive female. “You’ve been struting around here unchecked for too long.” He said, “I made it quite clear that you were to be mine and seeing as you won’t submit on your own, I’ll take what is rightfully mine.” Fear shot through your entire being and your body went numb as his friends held you face down in the dirt. You couldn’t fight, couldn’t move due to their weight. Laying there helpless you cried as Malakai hacked at your wings. Not at the base as you had expected, as you had witnessed in previous clippings while on your knees, holding the unfortunate females hands, promising her everything would be okay. There was no one to do that for you as you felt your left wing tear, as you felt the right one break. No one to tell you it was going to be okay as he forced himself on you as his friends laughed while you were bleeding out in the snow. You weren’t sure how long you cried in the snow, naked, cold, broken, it could’ve been hours before the daughters you looked after came looking, before they dragged you as best they could back to your tent and sat with you. You weren’t sure if the Mother herself was watching over you because even though part of you died that night, you were still alive come daybreak.

“Enough! Rhys, enough!” A voice like night personified spoke, close to your ear. You felt the cold seeping into your tattered dress as Rhysand retreated from your mind. There was a warmth at your back you noticed as you looked at the High Lord’s face and saw nothing but rage there. “Are you okay?” The same voice asked you, “It can be unsettling the first time he does that.” It continued, you craned your neck and saw the Shadowsinger, looking down at you and you came to the mortifying realisation that you were in his embrace, on the floor. You scrambled away from him, “I’m sorry my Lord, I’m so sorry!” You rushed out. The General let out a laugh and pulled you from the ground gently, setting you back on your feet and making sure you were steady before he stepped away. “She trains.” Rhysand spoke, authority coating his words, daring Devlon to argue with him. “If she wishes to train, to learn how to defend herself, she trains.” He said. Devlon was silent for a long moment. “With me.” It was not Devlon who had spoken but the Shadowsinger. “She trains with me, personally.” He wasn’t telling Devlon, nor was he asking permission, he was telling the High Lord that training you was going to be his task, and his alone. The two of them seemed to have some kind of silent argument if the tick in the Spymasters jaw was anything to go by before Rhysand finally said, “So be it Az, she trains with you.” You couldn’t fight the small smile that graced your lips, even if your cheeks were burning with embarrassment from having been in his lap only moments ago. “Thank you, Shadowsinger.” You said quietly. He didn’t smile, he just nodded. “Azriel, my name is Azriel.”

As instructed you were outside one of the only shops in Windhaven at daybreak. The door clicked open, and a female slipped out. “Oh, you must be Y/N.” She smiled gently. You returned her smile, “Yes, are you Emerie?” She nodded in confirmation that she was indeed Emerie. She looked you up and down and you didn’t miss her eyes snagging on the half of a wing hanging from your left side. “So, you’re Azriel’s new project.” She mused. “His new project?” You asked, “He’s just training me?” You said. “He’s a wonderful male, kind, gentle, but he’s dangerous and he’s easy to fall for.” She warned, “Have you?” You asked, “Fallen for him?” You clarified and she laughed, “Me? No, I prefer the company of females.” She told you with a smirk. Oh, oh. “I have no plans to fall for him, I just want to learn.” You told her and she smiled gently again, “Just be careful.” was all she said as the most beautiful female you had ever seen appeared and gave Emerie a dazzling smile. She bounced up to you, “Hi, I’m Mor!” He voice was like windchimes. “Hello, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, “Ready to learn how to kick these males asses?” She grinned and offered you a hand as you nodded.

Winnowing was a strange sensation, it felt like falling and staying still all at once and then you really were falling. The air left your lungs as you collided with something and then you were flying. “Welcome to Velaris.” You opened your eyes to see the High Lord and you were flying. A grin split across your face; it had almost been a year since you had last flown and the wind felt incredible against your skin. Rhysand smiled down at you as he did a couple of loops of the house below while you grinned before he eventually landed. You finally took in the view of the city he had called Velaris. “It’s beautiful here,” you breathed. “You should see it at Starfall.” A female spoke from behind you. Turning to face the voice you saw the High Lord with his arms around a beautiful female and you knew exactly who she was. You dropped into a courtesy, “High Lady,” you greeted. She smiled warmly, “Just Feyre is fine.” She told you, taking your hand and helping you straighten and regain your balance, the wind causing your wings to knock you off kilter. “Is that what you are training in?” She asked, referring to your tattered dress and your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “It’s all I have.” You admitted and she frowned at her husband. “It’s fine, really!” You insisted and she didn’t argue with you.

“Are you ready?” Azriel’s voice sent chills down your spine. You took a deep breath and turned to face him. “I am.” You told him. “We’re training a level up.” He told you, “This place goes higher?” You gasped, “It does, all that’s up there is a training ring, slightly smaller than this one, Cassian will be training Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn down here.” You nodded at him, “Once you're caught up you are welcome to join them, Nesta has already extended the invitation.” You smiled, that was incredibly kind of her, you had never been included before. In anything. “Let’s go.” He said, walking towards the door leading into the house. The interior took your breath away. You had never seen the outside of the camps before and you couldn’t comprehend how grand this house was. “Do you live here?” You gasped, freezing in place and taking in the parlour room. Azriel turned upon hearing your footsteps hault. Due to your half a wing your steps had a telltale uneven sound to them. He allowed a rare turn up of his lips at the sight of wonder on your face. “Yes, with Cassian and Nesta.” You didn’t acknowledge his words, still taking in the rich wallpaper, the plus sofas and chairs. “I’m not here much though, I’m often away for work but whenever I’m in the city this is where I reside.” He continued, that seemed to pull you back to him, “Oh, am I keeping you from that?” You asked gently, concern coating your eyes, “I can train at the camps, honestly, its fine.” You rushed out. Azriel shook his head, “You aren’t keeping me from anything.” He inclined his head towards the door and you followed next to him, running your hand along the back of the sofa, “I’ve never felt something so soft!” You exclaimed; an amused raise of his brows was all he gave you in return. You struggled up the stairs, your wings leaving your gait uneven, stairs was something you hadn’t faced in a long time, and it seemed you could no longer go up them very well. Azriel didn’t push or hurry you like you expected, he merely kept a step behind you to catch you if you fell. You were exhausted by the time you’d reached the training ring but more than determined to prove yourself.

Training that day was brutal. Not because you got hurt, in fact, Azriel didn’t touch you once, didn’t once enter your personal space. He had started you off with footwork. It was much harder than you thought simple footwork would be, but your uneven wings made life difficult as did the shadows that constantly danced around you, but you loved your new little friends and he couldn’t seem to call them back no matter how much he told them to leave you alone and find something useful to be doing, apparently they thought nothing was more useful than being around you. He never once lost his patience, he let you work through it. Let you pull yourself from the ground time after time with nothing but gentle encouragement. “Good,” he said at midday, “You did well today, we’ll do the same again tomorrow.” Sweat was pouring off of you by the time he was guiding you through a cool down. “How did it go?” Rhysand asked, appearing on the roof with the pair of you while you were lying on your back, fighting for your life trying to catch your breath. “It went well.” Azriel told him as you just stuck your arm in the air showing him a thumbs up. Rhysand just laughed at you. “Y/N, I have asked our healer, Madja, to take a look at your wings, just to make sure, if you’ll allow it?” He asked, your sat up, crossing your legs and looked at him, “Make sure of what? They can’t be fixed? Half of one is probably still in that field in Ironcrest.” You told him, “I know they can’t, but I’d like to know if they are causing you pain and if we can do anything about that.” He said a kind smile graced his face and you found yourself nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Azriel said shortly, his attitude suddenly switched, and storms seemed to be brewing in his eyes. “Okay.” You mumbled quietly, slightly scared of the person he now seemed to be. “Azriel.” Rhysand growled, “You are to leave it alone, do you understand?” He commanded, pure High Lord. Azriel levelled him with a look, nodded once and took to the skies.

Azriel:

“Half of one is probably still in that field in Ironcrest.” Azriel wasn’t sure why the words had gutted him like they had or why they were playing over and over in his head. He knew something tragic had happened to her, something unforgivable, Rhys hadn’t shared with him or Cassian what he had seen in her mind yesterday, but it had taken all afternoon, several glasses of whiskey and Feyre perched on his lap before his brother had calmed. All he knew was that when she uttered those words a rage like he hadn’t felt for a long time consumed him. He was to leave it alone. That was an order from his High Lord, not his friend, not his brother, his High Lord. So alone he would leave it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t investigate, Rhysand hadn’t said anything about investigating. So, naturally, he flew to Ironcrest. He kept quiet and out of sight of the main camp and sent his ever-helpful friends to investigate. He didn’t fail to notice the littlest one, the one that usually stuck to him like glue, rambling in his ear like an excited child, the one that hadn’t left her side all morning was the first to dart away at his command.

It didn't take long before he heard a howl on the wind, they had found something. The remaining shadows engulfed him like a swarm. When they cleared again, he was in a small clearing. It was the little shadow howling for him and upon his arrival it came shooting towards him. "Look! Look! See, Master! See what they did!” It was frantically whispering at him. “Show me.” He answered it aloud and followed its lead. The smell of blood hit him first. Something that didn’t make sense, but he knew on instinct it was hers. Her injuries weren’t recent, not recent enough for the blood to linger, not with the weather up here anyway but it was as if her blood had permeated the earth and his wings unfurled with the anger that once again hit him like a tidal wave. He spotted it then, lying in the grass, half of a wing. Just like she said. The cuts were crude, as if the instrument used was too blunt for the cartilage of the wing. He knew, from his experiance in breaking people, that once they had sawed through the bone, they had torn through the skin with their bare hands, like one would with paper. Even as someone who inflicted pain for a living, he couldn’t imagine. His knees gave out without his permission, and he vomited. “Kill them! Make them suffer! Kill them all!” The little shadow was hissing as it darted around his head. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he forced himself to his feet. “I will little one, I will.” He told it, “I’ll help!” It insisted, “You’ll all help when the time is right, for now, some of you stay here, find out who did this to her, keep me informed.” He addressed all of his shadows, the sneakier of which took their leave at his command. The little one floating by his ear like an unofficial second in command.

Y/N:

As predicted, there was nothing Madja could do for your wings, other than keep you comfortable with them. Which Rhysand insisted she do despite your protest that they had already done far too much for you by allowing you to train. You left of course, with ointments, tinctures, and vials for your wings. You arrived at training the next morning, aching but determined as ever. “Go on up!” Nesta told you with a smile and you give her your best smile right back. Gritting your teeth you pulled yourself up the stairs to the second training ring. Azriel wasn’t there when you arrived so you wandered over to the edge of the ring, bending at the waist to feel the wind over the wall. Your right wing, the broken one tried hard to unfurl and feel the wind but shattering pain lanced through you and it quickly stopped its movement. You stood there, a small smile on your face, hair whipping around you. “I like it up here, I can feel the wind again, I can hear its song.” You told Azriel who looked downright shocked you knew he was there as he emerged from his shadows. You let out a small laugh and put your hair behind your ear, “This little one gave you away.” You told him, showing you the little shadow curled around your ear like it belonged there. Azriel glared at it and it dived into your hair. “Don’t be mean to my new friend!” You scolded him and half of his lip twitched up into a smile. He came and leant against the wall next to you, taking great care not to knock your wings, Rhysand must’ve told him about the exposed bone and nerve on the left one that you wouldn’t even let Madja touch. “It must be nice to live somewhere like this, up in the wind.” You told him, “Do you miss it?” He asked, and you looked at him to find him already watching you, “Of course I do, but this is as close as I’ll ever get now.” You told him with a shrug. “Shall we start?” You asked. “Not yet, let’s enjoy the wind a bit longer first.” He said. From that day on, the first 45 minuets of training, Azriel dedicated to sitting on the wall, enjoying the wind. Slowly and surely, the Shadowsinger started talking to you more and more.

Azriel:

Six months later Azriel had found himself looking forward to morning training. It was no longer a motion to go through. He found he enjoyed Y/N’s quiet company. Enjoyed that she had never once been scared to call him out on his shit. It was her that had finally gotten through to him about Elain. He was repeating old patterns, and he knew that now. “You’re worth more than you think, Azriel. You deserve real and true love, mate or not. But this thing you have with Elain, this isn’t it. You know it isn’t. She’s using you and you know it, deep down you know it.” She had told him three days ago. He was furious. How dare she think such a thing about Elain about him? All he had tried to do is help her! He hadn’t shown up for training the last two days, but he knew from Cassian that she had and stubbornly carried on without him. Today, he was swallowing his pride and apologising for his actions. He had reacted badly at the time and she had flinched, she had been scared of him in that moment and it made him sick. He knew she knew he would never lift a hand to her in such a way, but she had still flinched, and he would not forgive himself for it, for the scent of fear that filled the air as he walked away from her in the middle of a session.

When he made it to the training ring, she wasn’t there. So he waited, five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen. Emerie came bursting onto the roof, Mor on her heels, Cassian, Nesta and Gwyn behind them. “She never turned up this morning!” Emerie told him in one breath. “Mor and I went to her tent but she wasn't there either!” He met Cassians gaze and saw the worry there, the tick in his brothers jaw. Cassian ran these camps as best he could but even Cassian wasn’t enough to corral the old ways and he could read it on the General’s face that he was worried about what they would find. “Find Rhysand, meet me there.” Was all he said to Cassian before launching to the skies.

Azriel wasted no time in heading straight for Devlon when he landed, his shadows skittering in all directions in their own search. The littlest one that she had become so fond of stuck with him, wailing in his ear. The commander met him halfway. “I know why you are here, Singer.” He said, “None of us had anything to do with it, we don’t know where she is, just that she’s gone.” “Truth, truth, truth.” The little shadow wailed in his ear. Azriel nodded once, “You and everyone here is to stay here, in the centre of camp and out of my way.” He said, his voice promising a cold death if they disregarded his order. Devlon nodded once and Azriel strode away. “Not here, not here, not here!” the little shadow repeated over and over again. “I know!” He growled at it, “Unless you know where she is, be quiet!” The shadow darted from his ear, up into his hair where it hid. He took to the skies again, circling the camp and the surrounding areas in slightly largest circles each time when Rhys and Cassian arrived. Rhysand took over sorting out a plan of action as the urgency and panic was starting to eat away at Azriel. He didn’t understand what was going on but the Spymaster almost suffocating with the frantic anxiety that was crawling up his throat and constricting his chest. His brothers shared a knowing look but did not enlighten him. He didn’t care. If it wasn’t her location, he wasn’t interested. The little shadow slid down his face, to its place curled round his ear and began to whisper once more. “Taken, hurt, taken, hurt.” “Where?!” He demanded and a swarm of shadows engulfed him, taking him to where they had found her.

Azriel almost vomited again when he saw her, lying broken in the grass, in the exact spot where she had been broken a year prior. “Find out why she was at Ironcrest!” He snapped at a group of shadows that quickly departed. y she’s in Ironcrest!” He snapped at a group of nearby shadows. Whether she came here of her own free will or was taken against it, the outcome was going to be the same. The torture master of the Night Court was coming out to play and they were going to suffer. People were going to die and this camp would be red by the time he was done. Her favourite little shadow was already racing towards her. Azriel had never heard a shadow scream before, and it was haunting. A sound he would never forget for as long as he lived. He would wake from nightmares to that sound, just like he did to the sound of the flesh on his hands sizzling when he was a child. There was no way to describe the state of her already broken wings, or the amount of blood she was covered in. “Help her! Master! Help her!” The little shadow was screaming at him as he fell to his kness beside her, checking her breath. She was still breathing, that was a start. He heard Rhys and Cassian land behind him. “Not again.” He heard Rhys mumble and he whirled on his brother, “What. Do. You. Mean. Again?” He demanded, Cassian was the one who spoke, “Not now, she needs us!”

Azriel turned back to the beautiful broken female lying in the grass. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” He asked, her eyes flew open, unfocused, and wild. Unsure of who was in front of her she went to move away and defend herself when she screamed. He assumed due to the pain she was currently in. “Y/N, it’s me!” Her eyes focused for a second and softened upon seeing him, she croaked his name, and a snap took place deep within his chest at the sound of his name and all of his instincts got stronger, harder to fight and he knew exactly what had happened. “There it is.” Cassian said to Rhys quietly who nodded back at the General. She went limp again. She would’ve hit the ground if not for Cassian catching her, placing her gently back down, from the seated position she was in. “No, no, no, baby, stay with me!” Azriel said desperately reaching for her. “Rhysand, help me!” He begged his High Lord, “Madja is the only one who can help her now, we need to move.” Rhys told him, Azriel stood, cradling her in his arms. Shadows were racing towards him from the trees. He handed her to Rhys as gently as possible. “You can winnow faster than my shadows. Take her.” Rhys nodded and was gone.

“In the trees, in the trees.” The shadows told him upon reaching him. He and Cassian followed, both males freezing upon finding a young girl, no older than 4, crying softly under a tree. Cassian made himself as small as possible when he realised Azriel was in no state to deal with this and met the little ones eyes, “What are you doing out here all by yourself little lady?” He asked with a gentle smile at the girl. “Are you going to hurt her?” The girl asked, baring her little teeth at Cassian, Azriel would have laughed if he had it in him. “No, we’re her friends.” Cassian told her softly, “She helped me.” She croaked, “They tried to take my wings.” Azriel ground his teeth so hard he thought they’d break. “Are you hurt?” Cassian asked and she shook her head no, “Just a little cut.” She said, expanding her tiny wing so show them a graze. “Where’s your mother? Your father?” her bottom lip wobbled at the question, “Dead.” She said as another fat tear rolled down her cheek. She crawled towards them, completely by-passing Cassian and holding her little arms up to Azriel. He complied, picking up the girl and resting her on his hip. “Please don’t take me back. I want to go with her.” She begged, placing her little hands on either side of his face. Azriel and Cassian had a silent conversation between them. There was no question, the girl would come with them, they would find her a good home. She'd never come back to the camps. “You don’t have to go back,” Azriel said as calmly as he could manage, “But you need to go with Cassian now, okay?” She studied him some more, “Are you coming too?” She asked, why this girl had picked him to trust he didn’t know, especially now, with shadows pouring out of him and death radiating out of his pores. Azriel nodded at her, “Yes Little One, I’m coming too, but I have to go to the camp first.” She nodded at him and let Azriel hand her to Cassian, “Ready to fly little lady?” He asked her with a grin, “I can’t fly yet. Don't know how.” She told him, Cassian ruffled her hair, “That’s okay, I’ll fly us.” He said. Azriel was already walking away, “Where are you going?” Cassian called after him, Azriel didn’t stop moving as he said. ��To work.”

Rhys was waiting for him on the edge of the camp. Fucking Cassian. “Do not try and stop me, Rhysand.” Azriel warned and Rhys held his hands up in mock surrender. “Stop you?” He asked, “I’m here to help you.” That stoppped Azriel in his tracks. “To hurt an innocent like they hurt her is one thing, to be handled diplomatically as they see no issue with their ways, ways that I am trying to outlaw.” He said, “To hurt my brothers mate? That is another and for that, they will pay.” Azriel almost smiled. “You knew?” He asked, “I had my suspicions,” Rhys told him, “But I didn’t know for sure, not until today.” Rhys’ eyes glazed over for a second. “Cassian is on his way.” Azriel didn’t get time to ask his question before Rhys carried on talking. “The girl is fine, she's with Mor, she met Cassian halfway, she doesn’t know her own name though, so you’ll have to think of one for her.” Rhys told him, “Me?” Azriel asked, “Shall we start calling you Daddy Az now?” Cassian asked as he landed beside them. Azriel shoved an elbow into his ribs. “What?! Cassian asked, “She was asking for you and Y/N the whole way back.” The three of them strode into the camp, their intentions clear. Illyrians began to scatter but none got far thanks to the wards Rhys had thrown up around the camp. Malakai and his friends were easy to find.

Once the brothers had gotten their prisoners situated in that chamber far below Hewn City, Rhys and Cassian once again departed, off to tell the Lord of Ironcrest his son would not be returning, Azriel got to work. Their deaths would not be quick, would not be merciful. He would not start with their wings, oh no. That would be a day two or three job. He wouldn’t take them too early, wouldn’t let them think they had lost that what Illyrians held most dear at the start, it would take all the fight out of them and that’s what he wanted, a fight. So he’d start small, Azriel knew exactly where to cut to cause the most amount of pain with the least amount of threat to life, but they would not leave here, not alive, not whole, and certainly not through the door. When the males were groaning, bleeding and full of Fae Bane, he left them hanging by their wrists. To spend their night being tormented by the beasts below.

“Absolutely not!” Mor said as soon as she saw him. “Go and bathe.” Azriel growled at her, the need to check on Y/N and the tiny girl they had found pressing down on him so much he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “That little girl has been through enough without you showing up looking like that and terrifying her!” Mor hissed at him pushing him down the hallway towards his own room. “They are both fine, both strong.” She told him and the weight lifted enough for him to get a breath down. “Come back when you’re clean.” She said, turning away and walking back down the corridor.

Once clean, he returned. His bath had done nothing to heal the tension in his body. He found his family gathered in a tight circle, whispering amongst one another. “I want to see her.” He said, garnering their attention and Rhys nodded at him, gesturing towards the door. He and Cassian followed Rhys him in. Every muscle in his body froze when he saw her. “Before you lose it,” Rhys said, “What was done was for the best, for her health.” “For her health?” Azriel repeated as a question. “Yes, she already had a nasty infection setting in and-” Azriel cut him off, “Her wings are gone! Gone Rhys, completely gone!” He roared. “It was for the best Az, It really was.” Cassian piped up. “With the new damage caused and the infection setting in, she would’ve lost the ability to walk as well, Rhys and Madja made a difficult decision, but it was the right one.” Panic was crawling up his throat, “I can’t.” He choked out, “I can’t be here!” Gods he was pitiful, she deserved a better mate than him. One that would sit by her bedside until she woke, one that helped her through this, but Azriel could barely look at her. “Az!” Feyre called after him as he fled the room, “There's someone in the sitting room whose been asking for you since they arrived.” She said catching up with him and taking his elbow, steering him towards the sitting room.

“Mama!” Nyx called out, running into Feyre’s legs as soon as he spotted her. She picked him up, placing a kiss on each of his cheeks, “Hello my love!” She greeted him warmly. “She doesn’t know how to play.” Nyx whispered quietly to his mother and Azriel didn’t miss the longing in the little girl's gaze as she watched Feyre interact with Nyx. So, he took a deep breath to steady himself and crouched down, opening his arms to her in invitation, he was going to do something right today. She hesitated, for only a moment before a brilliant grin split across her face and she ran into his arms. “How’s your wing, Little One?” He asked as he stood with her, she extended it to show him, “The lady fixed it.” She told him and began rambling on and on about the light in Madja’s hands and the tingly creams she had used. He took a seat on the sofa, the one he clearly remembered Y/N telling him was the softest thing she had ever felt. He was going to buy her 12. The little girl situated herself in his lap, still talking a mile a minute. “They tell me you don’t know your name.” She looked up at him, her big brown eyes shining, “Never had one.” She said and his face softened, even in that cell, all those years ago he had a name. Something that belonged to him. “Why don’t we pick you one?” He asked her, so wrapped up in this child he didn’t even notice Feyre and Nyx slip out of the room. “Okay?” She agreed, sounding doubtful. “Hmm,” He mused, “What about Luna?” He asked and she screwed her nose up, “No you’re right,” He said, “Sounds like a hounds name.” She giggled at him, placing both her hands on his face again, he took a mental note to figure out why she did that. “Selena? It means the Moon?” He asked and she shook her head, “I’m not a moon! I’m a girl, silly!” He huffed out a laugh, “My mistake, Little One, Lennox?” He asked, “No!” He grinned down at her, “This is hard!” He told her and she nodded her little head in agreement. “Theodora, Theo for short?” He asked, “Does that mean moon?” She asked, “No, Little One, Theodora means Gift of God.” She pondered it for a moment, “What god?” She asked, he had no answer for that. Azriel knew in his bones that this girl was a gift of God, but it didn’t suit her. “I don’t think it suits you,” He said, “Marceline?” He asked and her face softened at the sound of it. He watched her mouth the word, testing it on her tongue. Her smile answered his question, she was Marceline, she was his Little Warrior.

Nyx came running back into the room, “Dinner!” He announced and Azriel caught the excitement on Marceline’s little face, and he wondered when the last time she ate a proper meal had been. His family would have fed her when she arrived, but a proper dinner, he didn't know. She scrambled off of his lap, “I have a name!” She told Nyx proudly, “What is it?” Nyx asked, “Marceline!” She told him, Nyx seemed to ponder the name she had told him, “Marcie.” He said, “I’m going to call you Marcie.” She grinned at him, “Let’s go!” She said, offering her hand towards Azriel to hold on the way to dinner and he felt lighter than he had in days smiling down at the two children clasping hands at his side. He made a note to talk to Cassian after dinner about turning the rooms that they used to share into somewhere for himself and Marceline to reside seeing as Cassian moved into the main bedroom with Nesta what seemed like years ago and to ask Mor to go with him for clothes and toys for the little girl. He had thought they would find her a good home, but he knew in the very marrow of his being that there was no better home for her than here, with him and hopefully Y/N. Besides, she had a built in best friend in Nyx here.

“See, she’s not scary!” Marceline told him days later when she had coaxed him into Y/N’s room. He sat stiffly in the chair next to her bed, Marceline perched on the bed next to her. Wishing he could switch places with her. She didn’t deserve to be lying there. Marceline had been begging him to come with her for days and he had finally relented. “She wasn’t scared at all, Azzy!” Marceline told him proudly, “She hit him real good until the second and third one turned up.” Azriel knew she had. He’d seen the bruises on Malakai’s face himself. “I want to learn how to fight like her!” She continued, “Nyxie says when we’re old enough we can train together but I told him we’re not going to the camps to train.” She rambled on, “He said his Daddy went to camp, with you and Cassie?” She asked, “We did, Little One, that’s where we met.” He told her, “So, Nyxie is going to be High Lord, I’ll be whatever you are and we need a Cassie!” She said and his blood ran cold at the idea of this sweet little girl being anything like him. “Nyx will be High Lord,” He agreed, “But you, you Little One, you can be whatever you want to be.” He told her, “But what if I want to be like you? A hero? Brave?” She asked him, “My Little One, you already are those things.” He told her. Movement in his peripheral vision snagged his attention. After three long days, she was waking up, “Marceline, can you go and find the others for me please?” He asked, she nodded happily, jumping off of the bed and gliding towards the floor, her little legs already running before he feet touched the wooden floorboards, “Be careful!” He called after her. Unlike the little shadow that had chosen Y/N and that had not left her side since he had found her, the one that had chosen Marceline was bigger and clung to her little wings most of the time, “Go with her, keep her safe, make sure she doesn’t run into an important meeting if Rhys is in one.” He told it. Realistically he could’ve called the others himself, but he was unsure of how Y/N was going to react, what headspace she would be in, and he needed Marceline safe and out of the way. “Keep an eye on her and Nyx, make sure they are playing.” The shadow shot off after the little girl.

Y/N:

You could hear Azriel. He was nearby and talking to someone, move, move move. You urged your hand and to your infinite surprise. It did move. He was here, he had come. You had heard everyone else over the past however long you had been in this darkness, including a little voice you didn’t know, but it rambled at you a mile a minute. “Y/N, come back to me.” Azriel spoke again and you wanted to shout at him that you were trying! Your eyes darted around the darkness and a shimmer urged you towards it. The closer you got to it the brighter it shined. A beautiful golden thread. You grasped it in one hand and pulled as hard as you could. You heard a gasp, then felt a tug back and with that your eyes flew open. “Azriel.” You said, except it didn’t come out as his name, rather a garbled mess of letters. “Here,” He said, propping you up gently with one arm and bringing a glass of water to your lips with the other and you drank deeply. “I need you to stay calm,” He said, “But I have to tell you something.” You looked up at him, “My wings are gone.” You said before he told you. He nodded, “I’m so so sorry.” He said, “If I could give you back the sky, I would.” His eyes shone with nothing but truth. “Is she okay? The little girl?” You asked and a dazzling smile graced his lips, “Ask her yourself.” He said as a little girl with big brown eyes came bounding into the room, a shadow chasing after her. “You’re awake!” She exclaimed. “I’m awake.” You told her as she scrambled onto the bed next to you, helped the last couple of inches by Azriel. “Are you okay?” You asked her, “Are you?” She replied, “I think so.” You told her. “I’m okay,” She said, “Just one little cut that's going to be a scar like Azzy’s! How cool is that?!” She asked, extending her little wing to show you. Azriel visibly cringed that this little girl thought anything about him was admirable. “What’s your name?” You asked her and she looked at Azriel with a big grin before turning back to you, “Marceline.” She said proudly, “Azzy gave it to me!” Azriel cleared his throat, “Well, technically, we picked it together.” She ignored him. “I didn’t have one before!” She told you.

Azriel sent Marceline and her shadow to go and find Nyx to play with and he was seated back in the chair next to your bed. “So, you're like a dad now?” You asked teasingly and he shrugged, “I guess so.” You smiled up at him, “It suits you.” He smiled bashfully. “Do you know?” He asked, “Know what?” You said, confusion washing over you, “What we are to each other?” He asked gently, it was then you remembered the thread and you gasped. “Are we, Mates?” You asked and he nodded. “How long have you known?” “When I found you. It snapped.” He told you. You just stared at him, “I understand if you want to reject it, if you don’t want me, I’m hardly the kind of male you deserve, hel, a 4-year-old had to drag me in here because I couldn’t face it, seeing you, looking so lifeless.” You cut him off, “Azriel?” He stopped talking, “Are those three males hanging in a dungeon somewhere, bleeding and wishing they’d never been born?” You asked and he nodded dumbly, “Of course they are, they laid hands on you, twice. You no longer have wings so neither do they.” He said, your smile clearly took him by surprise, “Then you are exactly the male I deserve, I see you, Azriel, all of you and I’m not scared.” You said softly, “Let’s just take it a day at a time, see where we end up.” He smiled, “A day at a time.” He agreed.

#acomaf #acotar #acowar #acosf #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #acofas #a court of frost and starlight #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel

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nikachansstuff · 6 months ago

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The multiple versions of Azriel (aka my problem with Gwynriel’s narrative)

More often than not, I come across the argument that Azriel proved himself to be a creep in the BC. But only towards Elain. With Gwyn, he is a different male. He is and I quote: “Gentle with Gwyn.”

Let it sink in: Azriel is gentle towards Gwyn, but not with Elain.

So let’s check how much this affirmation holds itself when comparing to canon text?

“Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders.

He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door.”

ACOWAR - Chapter 24

“Then Azriel, gently taking Elain’s hand in his own, as if afraid his scars would hurt her.”

ACOWAR - Chapter 50

“Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. ‘Are you hurt?’

She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. ‘You came for me.’

The shadowsinger only inclined his head.”

ACOWAR - Chapter 65

“Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard. ‘It has never failed me once,’ the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. ‘Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.’ He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. ‘It will serve you well.’”

ACOWAR - Chapter 69

“But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, ‘Sit. I’ll take care of it.’ Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. ‘I—I’ll be right back,’ she murmured, and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit.”

ACOFAS - Chapter 12

“I made to move toward [Elain], but someone beat me to it. The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s—the fabric immaculately tailored and built to fit his wings. He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers, but there was little sign of the warrior otherwise. Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.” Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly.”

ACOFAS - Chapter 19

Yeah… I’m done.

Please tell me again how brute and creepy Azriel is towards Elain. But keep in mind that you’re misinterpreting all information laid out in the books so far. And… maybe, if you need to twist the books to make your theory works, then it’s not a solid argument at all.

#pro elriel #elriel

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surielstea · 7 months ago

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Sunshine in the Shade

Based on this request

Pairing: Azriel x DayCourt! Reader

Summary: Reader can't stay in the night court for long when she's bound to day. Azriel and her have to share a goodbye.

Warnings: minimal angst but mostly fluff

A/N: sorry this took me so long to get out, I was struggling figuring out the concept of the original req, I'm still not very happy with it but I hope you guys enjoy nonetheless :) p.s I had to repost cuz my tags weren’t working, sorry if you were notified twice lol.

2.9k words

"That's a lie!" I throw a piece of popcorn at a giggling Morrigan. "Nuh-uh," She shakes her head with a big grin. "I'm The Morrigan I only speak the truth," She shrugs and I roll my eyes, clutching my bowl of popcorn to my chest as she claims 'I'm the prettiest girl she's ever seen'.

"Shut up," I scoff as she wraps her arms around my shoulders and hugs me close. "I mean it," She croons. "Azriel's a lucky male, don't you think Fey?" Her arms slip from around me as she turns to look at the High Lady. "She gets it from her Father," Feyre intoned with a mouthful of chocolate cake and I rolled my eyes at the mention of the High Lord of the Day Court.

It was late in the afternoon, so late that it'd be night soon. I shake my head, trying not to think about when the moon meets the stars. I stifle a sigh and lean on the railing of the roof atop one of Rhysand's many estates, staring out at the three males who were flying around each other like boys again.

When I was seven, my father was an apprentice for spell cleaving. He had been practicing warding spells when I had come into the room with a bright grin on my face excited to show him my new drawing. In a moment of distraction, his spell had shot straight into my heart, the effects irreversible. We hadn't found out the full extent of the spell until we had been traveling to different courts for meetings and as soon as the sun slipped from the sky and night began to rule, my heart stopped beating and I was hospitalized for weeks.

So I was only allowed to leave during the day, as long as I came back right before sunrise. A rule that made it impossibly challenging to see my mate, who happened to be darkness incarnate.

I take a sip of my wine as I watch Azriel soar with his brothers, a rare smile on his face that makes adoration bloom in my chest. "That boy loves you," Amren hums from beside me and I roll my eyes, tearing them away from my mate to look over at her. "No shit," I scoff and a snarky smile curves her lips. "No, he loves you," She murmurs, eyes on the three boys as they laugh amongst each other. "I've never seen him so happy in all the years I've been around him, don't ruin that," She looks at me and it's as if she can see straight through me to my bare soul, past the flesh and bone and to my inner core that held the truest version of me. "What do you—" I begin but I'm cut off by a gust of wind as a figure lands on the railing that I leaned on. "Fly with me," A familiar voice says as Azriel bends down and cups my face in his hands, forcing me to look up at him. "You won't pretend to drop me like last time?" I narrow my eyes on him, forgetting about Amrens words now that he was here, cradling my face. "Nope," He bites at his bottom lip like he always does when he lies to me. "I know you're lying," I sing and he grumbles a curse, leaning in and pressing a kiss to my lips. "Ok, promise I won't." He smushes my cheeks together. I can't help but put every ounce of my trust in him and believe what he says. I nod and he doesn't need any further consent than that.

He swoops me up into his arms and with a few beats of his wings, we were soaring up into the blue sky. I tighten my hold around him with a small squeal. I had a horrible fear of heights, it was foolish to be terrified of a few hundred feet in the air when literal monsters were walking amongst Prythian but it's something that's always affected me. With Azriel, though it was different, he loved flying so much, and that smile on his face beat any fear I had.

"I won't drop you," He promised. "I know, but," I look down, dread filling my stomach at the long drop. We were higher than mountain peaks. He pulls me closer to him. "Hey, look at me," He said and I obeyed, eyes pinned to his. "Don't look down, keep your eyes on me," He hummed and I nodded. "Feels nice, doesn't it?" He tilts his head I swallow thickly, still thinking about the ground that was so very far away.

"Hey, look at me," He repeats with more stress on his words and so I do, I look into his eyes, at the smile on his lips, the dimples on his cheeks. I feel the summer breeze on my skin and hear the laughter of my friends still on the rooftop. "I love you," I confess, hands loosening around his neck and running them through his hair. He smiled, beaming at the words. "I love you more," He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I grin, then giggle as he dips down onto my neck, his nose tickling it. Cassian soars by with a large smile on his face. "No kissing and flying!" The Illyrian shouted over his wingbeats and Azriel's lips halted on my neck while I threw my head back in laughter, remembering the last time Azriel got too lost in kissing me and stopped flying momentarily, putting all of his attention to my lips instead. We dove for only a second before he regained consciousness. But ever since then, Azriel wasn't allowed to put his lips anywhere near mine while flying.

My head lifted back up and I looked at him with a loving smile, fingers coiled in his hair as he stared at me like I hung every star in the sky.

My breath hitched as the sun began to melt into the horizon. My smile faltered and morphed into a frown. "You've gotta go?" He asks and I nod with a pout, looking at him with saddened eyes. "The daughter of the sun can't stay in the night court for long," He murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple as he navigates us back to the rooftop, leaving Rhys and Cass.

"I'm sorry Az, I want to stay," I say. "I know, it's okay my love," He places my feet down onto solid land and even if I am afraid of heights, I'd much rather be up in the air instead of down here, signaling my exit.

"It's only for the night," He shrugs, settling down onto the railing of the rooftop though despite his reassuring words, something in his gaze told me he wouldn't be sleeping until he saw me again. "Oh, Az," I crash into him with enough force to knock us both over the railing but he doesn't falter, only embraces me back as I hug him tightly. "Why don't you come with me?" I ask and he tilts his head down at me with a frown. "You know your father will kill me," He shakes his head. "I don't care, I'm nearly four hundred years old, I can do what I want," I say. "And I want you," I cup his cheeks, analyzing his features as if I'll forget them. "Except you can't," He murmurs with a sad smile on his face, his thumb pulling slightly at my lower lip.

My shoulders slump and I wrap my arms around him yet again, nuzzling my nose into his shoulder. "Fly me back?" I asked softly into his neck. My fear of flying was outmatched by another moment with him.

"I was planning on it," He pressed kisses atop the crown of my head but neither of us backed up, just staying in that warm, comforting position until the sun got too low in the sky and I knew it was time to go.

"Bye, guys! See you in a month!" I wave to the others with a fake grin across my features. They all bid their farewells with pitying smiles on their faces. "I'll miss you," Mor tangles her arms around me, tearing me from a disgruntled Azriel. "Not as much as I'll miss you," I sing, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Well now I’m sun-kissed," She holds a hand to where my lips were and I giggle, pulling away and going back into Azriel's arms who was grumbling something about the joke being dumb, but I knew he was just jealous.

"Alright, alright, let's go," Azriel swoops me off my feet and carried me bridal style before Mor could get another word in— then took off to the skies, the cool wind nipping at my cheeks as we rose above the mountain peeks and begin navigating south, in the direction my mate's flown me countless times. "Bye Rhys!" I wave to the High Lord as we pass him. "Awe is it that time already!" Cassian whined, soaring to his brother's side with an apparent frown on his face. "I'll be back don't worry," I grin over at him. "I have no doubt you will," He sighs then turns back without another word and joins a waving Rhys.

About twenty minutes of flying later I knew the sun was too low in the sky to be excusable any longer.

"Az I gotta winnow," I say tiredly, hand cradling the side of his neck. "You have to be tired, plus you still have to fly back," I explain and he shakes his head. "I could fly you around for days." He reassured and I frowned up at him. "You know I have to leave," I huff. "I know," He nods. I lean upward and press a gentle, yearning kiss to his lips.

"No kissing and flying, remember?" He mumbles onto my lips. I smile at the recollection, pressing my mouth harder to his. "I'll see you soon, okay?" I whisper and he nods with creased brows and an aching heart.

His scarred fingers dig into my thigh, searing his touch into me in case I ever forgot it. "Don't miss me too much, yeah?" I ask and he smiles weakly before uttering, "I'll try."

"I'll see you tomorrow," I sigh. "I'll be there to pick you up," He reassured and my grin faltered, then as a silent goodbye, I pressed my lips to his, holding his face with enough delicacy you'd think he was made of glass. His lips press harder onto mine. It wasn't lustful or hungry, but it was passionate and full of pining. "Love you, Az," I whisper into his mouth, and before he can reply I winnow away, leaving his arms empty with only the weight of my absence, the bond between us wearing thin as I return back to my native court, a place that no longer felt like home when every element I had of a real home was in Night.

I had winnowed right into the dining room of the Day Palace, my plate already on my spot at the table. "You're late," My father grumbled, I tossed him a glance. He sat at the head of the table, a girl half-dressed in his lap. "Gods, seriously Dad?" I shield my eyes as I grab my plate, deciding not to eat in front of something that would easily make me lose my appetite. "In my defense, I didn't think you were coming home," He shrugs sassily and I roll my eyes at his behavior. "Yeah whatever, goodnight," I mutter, getting to the large doors leading to the hall. "Will I see you tomorrow?" He asks before I can slip out. "Probably not, Az is coming to get me in the morning," I mutter and he utters a curse. "I never see you anymore," He whines childishly, making a small smile spread across my lips. "I'm sorry but my days are promised to him," I open the door wider. "Unless you're willing to let him join us for dinner sometime?" I offer and he scoffs. "I'm not feeding someone who stole my baby girl," He grumbled. "That's what I thought," I nod. "Night, Dad!" I call before slipping out the door, closing it behind me with a soft click.

I travel down the halls of the palace made of sunstone and opalescent glass, taking bites of my food occasionally but I wasn't all that hungry since I ate with Rhysand's inner circle less than an hour ago. I breathe a deep sigh as I finally arrive at my room, entering then kicking the door shut as I make my way over to my desk, setting my plate and fork down before going over to my armoire and pulling myself out of the lightweight dress I wore, slipping into a nightgown instead as I prepared myself for bed, light still in the sky.

My sleep schedule had been all sorts of messed up, I had the sleeping habits of a five-year-old. Waking up at dawn and going to bed at dusk. It was unfair of me to have Azriel spend every waking hour with me during the day but it was the only time I got to see him, I couldn't spend nights with him, and couldn't sleep in the same bed.

I huff as I slide onto my mattress, pulling the covers up to my chin as my black-out curtains do the best they can to block out any remaining sunlight.

I rubbed my eyes tiredly and attempted sleep for at least an hour before I was finally able to drift off into a light slumber, knowing the sooner I fell asleep, the sooner I'd see my mate again.

——

I wake up to a light sound of thudding outside my window, then a drumming on the glass like someone was tapping against it. But I was on the highest point in the palace, the most protected and secured part of the entire court.

I sit up slightly panicked, but the tapping stops and I suppose it's my imagination, running my hands through my hair and blaming it on being overtired. But as soon as my head hits my pillow once more the sound returns. I spring up and crawl over to my bedside window, pulling up the blackout curtains with a confused expression.

My brows shoot to my hairline as I spot a familiar winged figure on the other side of the glass. I immediately open the window, pushing it to its highest point. "What are you doing here?" I question. "I missed you," Azriel shrugs and I facepalm. "Now scoot over, my wings won't fit with you right there," He gestures to me towards the end of the bed. "Are you insane? You're not coming in," I whisper shout and he frowns. "Why not?" He murmurs sadly. "My dad will kill you if he sees you," I grit out and he shrugs. Gods, I felt like a teenager sneaking my boyfriend in.

"C'mon sunshine," He sighs, his wings slowly flapping as to keep quiet. "We'll be gone by dawn," He reasons and I stifle a curse before moving out of the way and allowing room for him to enter. Shadows protect his wings as he pushes himself through the large window that he made look small.

As soon as he through I tackle him into a hug, pressing kisses along the side of his face. He chuckles, hand coming to the back of my neck. "Thought you didn't want me in here?" He taunts and I move away, looking down at him with a wide grin. "That was before," I shake my head, leaning down and wrapping my arms around his neck, lying atop him as if I couldn't get close enough to him. "Before what?" He scoffs. "Before you were in my bed," I reason. "But now you are and I don't ever want you leaving," I say into his shoulder and he grins brightly. "Have you slept?" I ask, twining my fingers into his hair. I feel him shake his head no and I internally sigh at his insomniac habits. "Alright, c'mon," I pull him up by the collar of his shirt, towards the pillows of my bed. He follows with a content smile, flopping down onto my mattress as I slip in beside him, pulling the blankets over us as I cuddle into his side, head on his chest, arm slung over his torso while he tucks me in close between him and his wing.

"How'd you get past the guards?" I perk up, looking at him puzzled. "I'm the spymaster, aren't I?" He smiles tiredly and I return it. "Not even the pegasuses noticed?" I say with a frown. "How are you so awake?" He asks, his hand coming to my cheek and I shrug. "I'm happy you're here," I explain and his grin widens, his scarred thumb pulling at my lower lip. "Go to sleep, I'll still be here in the morning," He reassured and I believed him.

I hadn't realized just how much I wanted this until I had it. His arms around me, shadows settling over us. We've cuddled before, on couches or daybeds, but nothing like this, not with the intention of sleeping. There was something so intimate about it, how he trusted me enough to fully fall out of consciousness with his arms wrapped around me.

I smile, a warm fuzzy feeling blooming in my chest. I lean up and peck beneath his jaw. "Goodnight, Az," I murmur. "Night sunshine," He softly replies and that was all I needed to hear before I faded into that familiar embrace of sleep.

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harrystylesfan2686 · 8 months ago

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Love You, Always.

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: the years you've loved each other, and the ones you've loved him alone.

Warnings: Devlon. Mentions of domestic abuse.

A/N: inspired by Cardigan by Taylor Swift, except in this version he doesn't come back.

Masterlist

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You place the two cups of tea in front of your father and his guest. A female so beautiful, with high cheek bones and a black lips to match her gown. She doesn't have wings and her cloths look far more elegant and richer from the clothes females in illyria were. She's surely from other place.

Your father, Lord Devlon, had instructed you to be on your best behavior today. You knew the rules of what do to when any guest comes, father had taught you even since you could remember living. Just stand back with your head down and be alert for when he requires anything from you.

And you do exactly that. Knowing that not doing would have painful punishments.

The female laughs at whatever your father had said before you came, and your father puts a hand on hers with a disgusting smirk. The lady glaces at your bowed head with an unsure expression you see in your peripheral, to which he responds,"Do not worry about her, she won't understand anything." His fingers swipping at her hand and you almost gag.

"Won't understand, my ass." You want to say but keep quiet and try to block out the teasing smirks they share. You're almost twenty one, of course you understand those revolting looks your shameless father gives females.

-☆-

You get out of the house as soon as your father gives you permission too. Gods, you hate that male, but have to endure his presence if you want to live at a little better life then the other females in your camp.

You ran and go to one place you know will bring you joy. The trianing grounds arent allowed for females to go to, so you stay far enough that no body would notice you seeing them. You look for the only person that makes you happy and doesn't treat you like worthless dolls. You see Azriel, fighting with his brothers, and let go of the breath you didn't know you were holding.

He looks so good.

The evening light making his bare chest glow. His wings flared in the show of dominance as he spars with Cassian. Rhysand watching them from the ground as Azriel expertly defeats Cassian and walks back to Rhysand with a small smile.

Your mind flashes with mammories of the last time you two were together. When father had given you particular blow that left you a line on blood down your cheek for not doing a chore. Azriel had so delicately wiped off the dried blood and took care of you, creeping into your room at night when everyone else lay alseep except you two. He kissed you all the way down your face and neck, showing you the care and love you deserve. Whispering promises of revenge for every scar on your body while loving you with everything he has.

Giggles sound behind you, breaking you moment of daydreaming. And you turn around, startled but settle down your panic when you see a group of three females talking and giggling while staring at the males training.

Thank the Mother, they aren't the very males your all staring at or father would be made. As you think about your better luck, fate seems to say 'fuck you' because just as your getting up, one of the females sees and you both freeze. The female, Nyra you remember, turns and calls the others attention, and your groan at yourself mentally.

Those females are definitely going to tell your father about your whereabouts, exposing there's too in the process which will get all of you in trouble. You were friends when you little but after growing up, when they realized who your father is and just how much power he holds in this camp, they became distent. You've had a lot of friends but never a true one.

You nod at them awkwardly and glance at Azriel once more before turning and leaving.

-☆-

You toss and turn on your so called bed in your room. Your thoughts repeatedly drift off to Nyra and her friends catching you red handed, drooling over training males. You kept glancing at your door, hoping for her or one of her friends to walk through and declare your secret.

What you hadn't excepted, however, was the flaping sound of wings filling the midnight silence. You sit up at the same time azriel lands never your window, having squeezed in his wings due to the size of your small room.

You stand and hug him, he returns the embrace in an instant, breathing in your sweet scent that drives him insane. When he tries to pull back, your hands tighten around him, shaking your head in a silent plea to hold on longer and he complies.

"Are you alright, my love?" His voice so soft and comforting as he whispers. You shake your head and remain as you are. Speaking softly, the words you say to each other, promising yourselves to the other, forever.

"I love you, Az."

"And I love you. Always."

-☆-

Even after five hundred years, you still can't seem to move on. Your thoughts always drifting back to the only person you saw your future with.

After Rhysand became high lord, the years when the trio weren't there were dreadful. Your father only seemed to have became worse. When Rhys got the news of you being promised to an illyrian from the camp, he came to get you. Knowing the history between Azriel and you, he took you to Valeris and introduced you to the inner circle. You finally met the love of your life after being separated for over a decade.

However, it did not go as you thought it would.

Azriel seemed to distanced himself from you, at first you thought maybe it was the fact that you were meeting after so long but as time went, you realized it wasn't his nerves that were the problem but his heart. You started to realize where his feelings seemed to be directed. You realized just how little he felt for you now and how much more for Mor.

You have to admit though, you love Mor. She is beautiful, confident and just amazing. What hurts, is knowing that now he does too.

You always thought the two of you were in it for life, that he was the person you're supposed to spend your life with but you were wrong. You were just kids after all. You were new to the world, exploring and trying new things. You were never supposed to be together, passion having blurred the boundaries and consequences of your actions.

Now, even after five hundred years. Azriel moved on, with different females to bed and Mor or Elain to give his heart too. But you? You're still twenty one, still living in that camp, under your fearful father's roof, still completly and utterly in love with the shadowsinger.

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#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #acotar fluff #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst #Spotify

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toodelusionalforreality · 18 days ago

Text

Azriel x OC | Chapter 6

History

Both his brothers are mated. Both his brothers are happily in love. But after five centuries of rejection, Azriel doesn’t hope for such luxury in his life. When he meets the bar owner who is too mysterious even for the spymaster to decipher, his intrigue turns into more. Lines between mystery and secret blur. The closer he gets to her, the more his instincts warn him to stay away.

Previous Chapter: Relic

Word count: ~4.0k Warning: None [not enough editing/formatting]

A/N: This is an experimental piece of work. I'm testing a writing style, so feedback is welcome. This is a fuck-it version as my brain doesn't seem to be working right now.

Since Nyx was born, House of Wind lay empty most days and nights. Azriel preferred his old room still, for the familiar privacy, for only the skies, the winds, and the moon to keep him company. But at times like these, when the laughter of his family filled the house and his brothers pretended to be better than an infant, he didn’t mind the city after all.

Despite the constant ruckus, he welcomed this distraction, especially after what he had done two nights prior. Ayla, for some reason, had trusted him and he ruined the first chance he had with her. She had offered him her kindness and in return, he proved her he was deserving of everything vile and cruel in the world. Every blessed moment they shared, Azriel tainted it by forcing himself onto her.

He had hoped Ayla would ask him to stay, or at the very worst, threaten him again. Instead, she stared at him. She stared at him like her entire being wasn’t consumed with desire as his, like it was one of those meaningless kisses she granted other men she took to her bed. How the light in her eyes flickered out, he couldn’t erase it from his mind. Nor the taste of her lips, or how his own tingled hours after he returned home.

Guilty as he was, Azriel was more ashamed for not regretting the kiss he stole from her.

‘I know how to hold my son,’ hissed Rhys. He walked back and forth, cradling his child in his arms, round the sofa for the fifth time in the past fifteen minutes.

Nyx loved to torment his father whose perpetual cockiness crumbled under the pressures of parenthood, and Azriel loved him for it. He leaned against the window frame and kept out of the way, for offering advice only made Rhys lose his mind.

But Cass was oblivious to this sentiment. He reached to take Nyx into his embrace. When his calloused fingers scraped against the tender wings, Azriel winced. Add it to their natural sensitivity and they had a crying babe in their arms. Literally. The tiny wings posed a greater hindrance with their involuntary flexing than the three brothers imagined them to be. Though they understood the plight as Illyrians, they were equally pathetic when it came to a suitable remedy.

Cass backed a step, his hands in the air. It wasn’t his first ordeal facing the wrath of the new parents, yet his biggest challenge was the fervour of their outbursts. Some days, Feyre threw everyone out of the room, and on the others—well, once Nyx’s talon clawed into the wood of the cradle, and Rhys bawled while all his child did was stir in his sleep.

A tendril of shadow tickled the babe’s nose before rising to whirl above his head. Fragile silence settled in the room as Nyx watched, his blue eyes wide and filled with wonder.

‘You can’t keep doing that,’ said Cass through his teeth.

Azriel grinned. ‘It’s not my fault he likes me better.’

‘If I did parlour tricks, he’d like me too.’

His tricks include getting piss drunk and fucking Nesta, said Rhys in his mind and Azriel snickered.

Cass looked between them. ‘What did he say?’ He asked Azriel before grunting at Rhys, ‘Tell it to my face, you coward.’

‘You’re making him antsy,’ warned Azriel quietly.

It was too late. Nyx’s lips trembled on cue as though he knew to milk their predicament to his advantage. Rhys’s spawn indeed. With a nervous smile, Cass took a step towards him wagging his finger in the air. But the wails grew louder.

Shadows rushed back seeking the quiet around Azriel.

When the doors flung open, Cass took three steps back. But Feyre’s eyes were only on her child—one touch from her and Nyx babbled like a portrait of innocence tugging at her shirt. Nesta walked in with a smirk on her lips, knowing well the cause of distress, and with Mor in her tow.

Slumping into the chair next to the fireplace, Rhys draped an arm over his eyes. ‘I’m learning to respect my mother more. No wonder she bit our heads off as much as she did.’

‘I swear,’ grumbled Cass as he sat across him, ‘if you’re making him do it—’

Rhys peeked over his arm, anger darkening his eyes. ‘Why would I make my son cry?’

As the two bickered, Nyx laughed at his accomplishment, convincing Azriel he might have inherited more than his father’s theatrics.

Feyre chuckled and rocked her babe in her arms. ‘You lasted an hour. You’re making progress.’

Rhys shot a glare at Cass. ‘I would’ve lasted longer if not for a moron.’

‘I’m sure she was talking to Nyx,’ said Azriel.

Sensing the attention slipping from his pudgy fingers, Nyx spewed more gibberish. Mor let out a gasp and leaned over him, matching him with her own nonsense. But, he reached for Nesta instead.

Mor placed her hands on her hips and turned to her cousin. Her blond hair whipped dangerously in the air. ‘How does he not find me adorable?’

Rhys grinned. ‘Clearly, my son has standards.’

Nyx snuggled against Nesta’s chest and grasped at the wisps of shadows that deigned safe to approach him again. Mor smirked, ‘Well, clearly. He prefers Az over you.’

A dark power enveloped the corners of the room swallowing the light and warmth from the hearth.

‘Not funny now, are we?’

When Mor made a grab for Nyx’s hand in the air, he squirmed away. Amusement replaced the jealousy in Rhys’s eyes. ‘If only you could hear what he thinks of you.’

‘He thinks of me already! He likes me.’

While the rest of his family flocked wherever the babe was, Azriel always found a corner for himself. And Feyre seemed to notice. ‘He really likes his Uncle Az.’

‘More like Uncle Ass,’ grumbled Cass, still sore from the rejection, earning a glare from both parents.

‘You still won’t hold him?’ Feyre asked with a softness that bordered on pity.

In the beginning, it was easy to make excuses blaming it on the care needed from a mother, or on his tender body. With months passed and everyone grown comfortable with handling a babe, it became clearer that Azriel stayed away the most. And somehow, Nyx was fascinated by him the more he distanced himself. It couldn’t be his shadows for Rhys was the night sky incarnate, or perhaps Nyx sensed a familiar darkness in them.

‘I did when Rhys—I did,’ he sighed offering a smile, however strained it was.

Mischief lurked in Feyre’s eyes as she walked over, ‘You better begin your training now,’ and looped a hand through his arm, ‘You might not have time to prepare.’

Azriel choked. Him with a babe? He had hardly spent minutes with Ayla. Besides, he forbade himself from indulging in such fantasies. He did once and suffered the consequences for centuries. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. With Ayla, it would be different. It had to be different.

The sisters’ laughter worsened the heat rising up his neck. His eyes shifted, darting to look anywhere but their faces, and he caught the glance shared between Mor and Rhys.

Cass swivelled in the chair, ‘What about us? Nes and I are still ahead of him.’

Nesta went rigid. Feyre looked to her mate for help who merely grinned instead. Fortunately for her, Nyx yawned and she rushed to him. ‘I should take him to bed.��

Mor stomped over to the couch, ‘You owe me a night, Feyre.’ She pulled Cass to his feet and held onto his hand. ‘You all do. I’m leaving at dawn again and who knows when I’ll be back.’

Right, Vallahan teased her for months with the prospects of a successful alliance, only to test her patience.

‘I’ll stay with him,’ Nesta said quietly, tearing her eyes away from her mate. Cass only shook his head with a dramatic sigh but he didn’t argue or pull away from Mor.

Feyre and Rhys were silent for a while staring at each other, Azriel assumed, arguing over who got the honour to care for their son. Finally, she said, ‘Elain said something about pruning before sunrise. She won’t mind watching him.’

It was then Azriel realised the third sister hadn’t joined them since dinner.

Mor slowed as she took in her surroundings, a frown tugging her lips. ‘I thought we were going to Rita’s.’

‘After last time,’ Rhys shared a secret smile with Cass, ‘they’ll appreciate not seeing us for a while.’

Azriel didn’t know what trouble his brothers had stirred this time, but he resisted his words as he followed them down the cobblestone path he knew all too well. Without sparing even a courteous look at him, his family entered Pharus and went to his usual table as though it hadn’t been their plan all along, as though his mate wasn’t sitting on the dais right in front of him.

Ayla was alone that night. She strummed a tune on her lute, and at the first sound from her lips, every conversation died in the room, every patron straining to listen to her instead.

Pretty things that did pretty things.

Azriel was convinced he had learnt everything about her from his secret visits. But every time he met her, Ayla surprised him. What else could she do? Who was she beneath the stories he had gathered those months? He couldn’t tell if they were careless gossip from his server or curated tales from her loyal friend anymore.

Her fingers fluttered along the strings, light and nimble, every note a perfection. With each delicate stroke, her body moved with the music like she couldn’t hold back, and as she did, her hair swayed too, teasing the corner of her smile.

One day, Azriel imagined, he would take her in his arms and brush those treacherous strands away. His heart tightened at the vision—the intimacy of being so close to her, to touch her so gently, to reveal her beautiful face to him inch by inch.

If only he had used his mind for once instead of acting like a lustful prick.

Ayla had laughed for him. She had shown him a side of her that only a few were privileged to witness. She had extended a ray of hope with her truths, and he snuffed it out with one kiss.

When the fog of guilt and shame cleared later that night, Azriel realised he had failed once again. For each of his questions resolved, plenty more arose. How did she end up in Velaris? What of her family? With Hamra safe and away, was Ayla safe from the mystery woman too? If he had another chance, he might coax some answers from her without her games. But she wouldn’t let him close to her again, let alone trust him.

In a twisted way, he wasn’t surprised. When had he ever made right when it came to love?

Azriel almost laughed. He was mated to Ayla. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t, not yet. He wasn’t sure he knew what love was. His half-brothers had ripped his heart away when he was a boy, long before he learnt what the word meant. All his life, he only ever ‘loved’ one woman and she rejected him. She chose his brother over him for she saw what lurked under the surface, recognised what he was—a shroud disguising the darkness within.

Now his mate, would she reject him too if she knew the true scars deep under his skin?

Ayla took a breath between verses, and he shuddered. Her voice reeled him out of his fears. The weight in his chest loosened its grip with her every word, yet Azriel held onto the ache. What was he without his burdens? What could he be without this longing?

Slowly, as her song came to an end, his swirling thoughts settled too. For long minutes, not one spoke. Silence embraced the void her voice left behind.

Feyre and Cass looked away first, then Mor. When a gasp escaped Nesta, everyone turned to her, except Rhys. Silver sparkled in her eyes beneath the unshed tears as she clutched her chest. Cass spoke her name but her eyes remained on Ayla who padded down the steps. It was only when he placed a hand on her thigh, that she met his gaze with a smile.

His shadows awoke from their trance too. They slithered up his neck and chanted Ayla’s name in his ears. But Azriel’s attention was elsewhere. As conversations came alive and servers went around the room, Rhys watched Ayla. When she stopped in front of her office and talked to a female among a band of four, his violet eyes shone bright.

‘Rhys.’ Azriel called, interrupting him had he chosen to invade his mate’s mind again. Still, his brother didn’t tear his eyes away from her.

A frown creased between his brows before Rhys blinked. He turned to Feyre first—it had been she who pulled him out of his reverie—and then, Azriel. Neither of them spoke, aloud or in their minds. But a tension lingered in their stares. Feyre ran her palm down his arm and it brought a smile to his lips. He looked away first.

With the risk of other courts seeking someone from Velaris, Rhys was bound to get involved sooner or later. With the fae gone, he would have nothing to focus on except Ayla. And so, Azriel kept Hamra’s whereabouts to himself. As far as his brother was concerned, she was hiding somewhere in the city.

The faerie bowed her head and apologised, holding Ayla’s hand in hers, her cheeks flushing red, while her companions set up on the podium. Ayla nodded with a gentle smile—ever so gracious. She blinked and her eyes pinned on Azriel as though she’d expected to find him there, and his breath caught in his throat.

Once the faerie left, she went to the bar.

‘Come with me.’ Nesta dragged him along before he had the chance to protest, and he swore his shadows aided her. She perched on a stool at one end of the counter, close to the office, making it impossible for Ayla to leave the room without walking past.

It was Raya who approached them though. ‘What can I get you?’

‘Could she serve us?’ Nesta glanced at Ayla. ‘She made me a drink last time and it was delicious, but I can’t remember its name. We were hoping she’d make it for us again.’ With her smile so earnest even Azriel found himself convinced.

Raya cut him a glare but spoke to Nesta, ‘Tell me how it looked. I’ll make it for you.’

‘I’ll take care of them,’ said Ayla softly, not looking up from the drinks she stacked on a tray. While Raya began to protest, Uri urged her with his eyes, then picked up the tray and waded through the crowded tables.

Watching the defeated bartender shuffle to the other end, Nesta remarked. ‘I thought they liked you here.’

‘Not anymore.’ He ignored her expecting gaze and sat beside her.

No one was privy to what had transpired between him and Ayla, and he preferred it that way. When his family meddled, she seemed to slip away from him.

Minutes passed. She catered to every patron at the counter, ignoring him and Nesta, including the ones who came after them. Azriel glimpsed over his shoulder and found the glasses empty at their table. Cass hollered to Uri, yet the server turned around and talked to a couple who sneaked wary peeks at the ridiculous male waving his arm in the air.

Azriel smiled at his mate. Keeping liquor from his family was one, and very efficient, way to encourage them to leave the bar.

At last, with no one else left to tend to, Ayla turned their way though she refused to meet his gaze. ‘What would you like to drink?’

‘You have a beautiful voice,’ said Nesta, her words whispered with a touch of awe.

‘Thank you,’ smiled Ayla. She stared for a moment and then blinked twice. ‘You sound good too.’

Nesta sucked in a breath. Compliments weren't meant for her. Everything she did was expected and never deemed worthy of praise. As though remembering her manners, she dipped her chin in a graceful nod.

‘How often do you sing?’ She inhaled sharply, ‘I mean, if I wish to listen to you again, when is it likely for it to happen, again?’

‘You can request to my bartender or the servers. If I’m here, they shall let me know.’

So, Azriel hadn’t been special. Yet, seeing her offer kindness to his friend without hesitation was endearing. Nesta pursed her lips as Cass came to stand beside him. The scent of citrus smothered him before Mor wedged herself between the two and wrapped an arm around him. ‘What are we having?’

Shadows scattered back to his wings. Azriel shifted in his seat, the hold on his shoulder growing unbearably heavy with each passing second. He peeked at Ayla but her focus remained on the glasses she was readying for them.

‘Not the one from the other night,’ Mor leaned over the counter and spied the ingredients she mixed. ‘I still haven’t forgiven you for that.’

Ayla offered the first drink to Nesta. ‘I don’t remember apologising. But, alright.’

Azriel shook with silent laughter and his shadows skittered down his arms. Mother, how had he gone two whole days apart from her?

‘Don’t worry about her. It’s easy to get into her good graces.’ Cass snorted, earning a vicious glare from Mor, but she soon smiled brightly when Ayla served her. ‘Just don’t take her wine from her.’

‘And why would I want to be in your graces?’

A laugh escaped Azriel. When he looked up, none of his friends were laughing with him, they only watched.

‘So,’ drawled Mor, ‘what do you think of our Az?’ Her arm tightened over his shoulder as she pressed closer.

Azriel glared at his brother silently cursing him for unleashing their disaster of a friend.

The next drink was for Cass. Ayla poured another four and began setting them on a tray, ‘I don’t know enough about your Az to make a judgement.’

His name rolled off her tongue in a smooth caress. Blood rushed to his face, and between his legs.

‘Would you like to know enough?’

Azriel whirled to his other side where Nesta sat wearing a smirk. Why did they leave Rhys and Feyre behind? Why didn't they bring the whole entourage and embarrass him in front of his mate?

But then, Ayla said, ‘He can ask that himself.’

Ask, his shadows urged. Ask. The words merged and weaved until all he heard were incoherent whispers. Ask.

Azriel was never at a loss for words, he simply chose not to say them aloud. But with her, he often found himself speechless. Nesta nudged him with her knee, a reminder that he still hadn’t spoken. He cleared his throat, and his friends had the decency to scramble. Cass ruffled his hair, making him hiss under his breath, before he and Mor wandered back to their table.

Nesta made to leave as well, watching them for a breath before staring into her drink. Almost a year had passed since she accepted them as family, yet she felt no less an outsider.

Ayla noticed Nesta’s hesitation and watched the two once they joined Rhys and Feyre. Laughter erupted, drinks flowed, and their eyes often drifted to Azriel.

‘You should dance,’ said Ayla. Nesta’s eyes snapped to her as she watched the ones swaying in front of the dais with a smile. ‘The band loves when people do.’ Right then, Uri appeared behind them with his usual smile and she nodded at him, ‘If you’re shy.’

How she knew about his friend or the server materialised at that very moment was a mystery.

While Nesta sat contemplating the offer, Ayla set a drink for him. ‘You two have a history.’

She was looking past him, where his family was, and Azriel knew who she meant.

A glass shattered across the bar, and Raya darted to the kitchen mumbling about needing a broom, although the smirk on her face was unmistakable.

Nesta choked on her drink. She quickly got to her feet and patted him on the back, ‘Don’t ruin it,’ as walked away with Uri.

Alone at long last, free from prying patrons and his meddlesome family and her vigilant friends. Yet, Azriel felt no relief. His shadows retreated behind him, barely peeking over his shoulders. Now that he was in a bind, they were silent as the dead.

‘Do you regret it?’ she asked quietly.

All night, Ayla wouldn’t meet his gaze, and now it dawned on him—she believed he regretted the kiss he’d dreamed of for months, his one true glimpse of boundless happiness in ages. And with Mor acting like Mor. . .Azriel couldn’t breathe.

‘I don’t.’ Her words nearly drowned in the chaos around them as she fussed with empty glasses on the counter. ‘Although I’d prefer you didn’t run away next time.’

His shadows fluttered around him, emboldened by her admission. Azriel let out a shuddering breath, the need to explain the past tightened in his chest. ‘It’s not how you think,’ he began. What were he and Mor if they were barely friends in name? What remained to say when nothing had existed between them? Instead, he settled on, ‘It was a long time ago.’

Her face was bare and calm. ‘How many long times ago are there?’

When he thought it couldn’t get worse, it did. It wasn’t a conversation he was willing to have with his mate in a bar, with his family undoubtedly listening in on them.

‘Two.’ His shadows hissed in his ears and sank behind him again.

Ayla took a slow breath. ‘And not long times ago?’

She pressed her lips together and they quivered.

Azriel was a fool—an absolute, blind fool.

‘Well?’ She finally looked at him. The light in her eyes returned, brighter than ever. ‘That many, huh? How about in the past century?’

Azriel held in his smile.

Her eyes widened as Ayla faked a gasp. ‘How about the last fourteen months?’

Fourteen months ago, Azriel walked into Pharus for the first time, he saw his mate for the first time, he saw her smile for the first time. While he tortured himself with the misery of being invisible to her, she had remembered him.

Even the ones he called his friends didn’t know this part of him. And Ayla was unravelling him in mere seconds. A voice in his mind warned him to stop, to think, to run away. But he saw the grin on her face at his unease, the unbridled amusement on her face.

‘Eight,’ he said and waited for an insult but none came. ‘What about you?’

‘One.’

Azriel’s brows rose. He knew there were more—more than eight—male and female, none she invited again. His shadows had whispered so during his secret trysts, and that was before the bond snapped for him.

His mind refused to believe her, yet his craving heart did. For a sweet moment, he tasted relief, then she ruined it.

‘Doesn’t sound fair, does it? Perhaps, we should get even.’

Next Chapter: Sinner

#god's game #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar x oc #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar series #a court of thorns and roses

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k-godling · 5 months ago

Note

Welcome to the ACOTAR fandom!

I’d love your takes on the Archeron sisters!

Thank you, I’ve only really been properly in the fandom for a few months, but I HAVE THOUGHTS! This is also a warning that some of my thoughts are ‘hot takes’ in the fandom, but these are my thoughts.

Warning: This is heavy anti-Inner Circle

Nesta Archeron

Ok! We’re gonna start with the BIG one.

TL:DR - I love Nesta’s character. I think she’s complex and layered in a way that few other characters are (and in a way that I like).

Other characters that I think are layered/complex or are going to be include:

• Rhysand - I don’t like his layers, I think that if he stayed the morally greyish character he was in the first book, I would absolutely love him, but I hate the way that all of his bad deeds are excused because ‘I wear a mask’ and ‘it was for the greater good’… like I just want him be quiet sometimes.

• Eris - I can’t wait for his story. Because he also ‘wears a mask’ for the good of his ENTIRE COURT. And I think he is just what Rhys would’ve ended up like if he didn’t have the cushioning of the Velaris and the Inner Circle, but I think this is better. Eris doesn’t push blame or anything like that. I can’t wait to learn more about him.

• Elain - This is gonna be short cuz she has her own section, but I think she’s such a blank slate rn that I think she’s absolutely sizzling underneath. She’s got shit to say.

• Azriel - I need him to blow up and leave. And I know that’s dramatic and over the top but I NEED IT. In my opinion, he’s the most likely to do it, to rebel and get out of the Night Court, within the Inner Circle because he has the ‘ice that (Rhys) can’t thaw’ or something like that. And because we’ve seen Rhys and Az argue until Rhys has to pull rank, and I think that says a lot about how much Az’s personal loyalty effects him, because a lot of the time he listens because Rhys is his brother and High Lord, not because he agrees with him. Also I want to get into the nitty gritty of Azriel feelings (ALL OF THEM)… self hatred, desperation, abandonment issues.

ANYWAYS… I got off topic, but I like Nesta’s character complexity the most because it’s makes me think of how realistic her reaction to things were. Like the IC have been drinking, gambling, whoring about, and all the shit they’re accusing her of doing, FOR 500 YEARS, but she’s been doing it for a few months and suddenly it’s their biggest problem I’m the world. It’s also massively hypocritical she’s only been doing this for a few months, and it took Cassian 10 YEARS to recover after his mother died and he DESTROYED AN ENTIRE VILLAGE. But if Nesta did that she’d be the bad guy and get locked up.

IT WASN’T REHAB and I will stand by that. If locking her up in a building she cannot get out of, with a man she wants nothing to do with, who ends up have sex with her when she’s in a vulnerable enough state to need ‘rehab’, is the Inner Circle’s acceptable version of ‘helping’ the. I don’t even want to know what ‘healthy’ looks like to them, cuz it ain’t them.

Also, she’s not a mean/nasty person. She has a mirroring personality. She’s gives back what she’s given. It’s why the Valkyries love her so much, it’s why she’s friends with Azriel, it’s why she was civil with Eris before Cassian barged into their dance. Similarly, it’s why she doesn’t care for Amren (Amren cares for no one), it’s why she dislikes Mor (who has had a weird obsession with hating her and making her uncomfortable), it’s why she’ll never by in good terms with Rhys (he will never accept her into his ‘family’ without saying something at every moment he can, and she will always retaliate),

This would also effect her relationship with Feyre, because Feyre will put her Court relationships first (she puts their opinion above reason when dealing with her sisters, she only wanted to help Nesta because of how it made her look as High Lady). Another reason to further this point is the fact that they stuck Cassian up there with her, which in my opinion was to get her to soften up to the mating bond and make it easier to control her/her powers (orchestrated by Rhysand), and probably for ‘the better of the court’.

Speaking of Cassian, I hate him as her mate. I don’t think he likes her at all, definitely doesn’t love her, he just wants a mate. And they’re so incompatible thats their mating bond makes no sense. Why would the Cauldron give her a mate that she couldn’t genetically have kids with if the entire point of mates is to make the most powerful offspring, cuz before she changed her anatomy, she couldn’t have held his baby.

That’s where I’m gonna finish the Inner Circle but cuz I’m gonna get heated otherwise.

The only thing left is her with the Dread Trove. First of all, the Dread Trove currently only answers to her, therefore she should have control of how to use it, especially for when she thinks it should and shouldn’t be used. Same with her Made weapons, none of the Inner Circle should have authority or power over where those weapons go, and who should wield them, other than her, especially since no one else can even touch them.

Saying this, I understand Rhys’ rage about Nesta giving the Mask to Bryce. I understand both POVs because both were for what they believed to be right, WITH GOOD REASONS, and not just ‘it’s for the betterment of Prythian’ because both of their theories were possible to happen if she did or didn’t give the Mask.

HOWEVER, Rhys berating her the way that he did to point where someone had to step in and it WASN’T CASSIAN, but someone Nesta doesn’t even know, was sickening. I will never trust either of those two men to actually care about Nesta with sincerity and not with an ulterior motive.

This is where I’m gonna stop, because this is gonna end up to be long post.

Feyre Archeron

I’m gonna try make this as simple as possible.

• ACOTAR - I liked her

• ACOMAF - I was iffy about her

• ACOWAR - I hated her

• ACOFAS - I didn’t care for her

• ACOSF - I hated her

Just to be clear, I’m highly critical of Feyre, because the writing of her is inconsistent and contradictory, and I don’t think that it’s going to change.

Firstly, she has a panic attack and loses control when being locked up for ‘her own safety’, but then threatens to tie up and drag Nesta to the HoW if she refused? And that’s alright?

Let’s not forget that’s she’s a WAR CRIMINAL!!! The fact that she did everything she did in the Spring Court to get back at Tamlin, but it directly affected everyone in the Court EXCEPT FOR Tamlin (but it did later). And the fact that the Inner Circle was celebrating her for it.

PEOPLE LOST THEIR HOMES, THEIR BUSINESSES, THEIR LIVES. LITERALLY EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF HER. This is literally most of the reason that I cannot physically like her as a character. Because, at the end of the day, it’s doesn’t matter if ‘it was up to Tamlin’s decisions’ because she still caused it. That blood would still be on HER hands.

Also, HOT TAKE INCOMING, she shouldn’t be High Lady. She literally found out that far couldn’t lie within the same year/year and a half that she became High Lady. SHE KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT FAE. She basically JUST learned how to read ffs. And suddenly people who are over 500 years older have to listen to her orders when she knows nothing that shes talking about (specifically in reference to when she tells Azriel to pull out his spies and stop spying on Briallyn and he disagrees).

And how the Inner Circle expect the Court of Nightmares to respect her when the first time they’re introduced to her, she literally just know as Rhysand’s Whore, and gave him a lap dance, like I wouldn’t respect you either. Same goes for the people Under the Mountain, she was literally doing the same thing and suddenly they have to respect her cuz she’s in a position of ‘power’ (which I don’t believe is real btw, I think she’s only High Lady because Rhys gave her the title).

ALSO, I hate that everyone says she freed the Fae from Amarantha. No she didn’t, Tamlin did. Feyre bargained that if she finished the trials, or solved the riddle, it would free TAMLIN AND THE SPRING COURT, not everyone else. The only reason everyone else was free was because TAMLIN KILLED AMARANTHA.

(Also the fact that both her and Rhysand are still resentful of Tamlin even though he’s literally the entire reason they’re both still alive is fucking hilarious to me.)

I’ve already made the comments I wanted to make on her relationship with Nesta, and I can’t comment on her relationship with Elain because we haven’t seen enough of it on-page.

In my opinion, ACOTAR Feyre would absolutely hate ACOSF Feyre. What do you mean you have 5 houses? What do you mean you rule a court where 2/3’s of it are oppressed and girls’ virginities get sold to highest bidder and they get permanently mutilated, and you’ve done nothing but wear their wings like a costume? You’ve done nothing but basically encourage Hewn City to continue to brutalise their wives and daughters, and the cycle will never stop.

Then you can’t understand when people don’t want to live in your ‘perfect city’ that’s built in the backs of your other citizens, or work for you, when you do nothing for people who actually need it.

Also, I hate that she’s nosy af, and people just give her information, it politically makes no sense.

e.g. Eris spilling his guts about the night Lucien left Autumn, none of Feyre’s business because she obviously she doesn’t care about Lucien (but I’m not gonna get into that)

e.g. There was no need for Rhys to give Feyre Azriel’s backstory about his father and brothers, it makes no sense. Azriel is literally the most secretive person in the Night Court, I don’t think he’d just want you to spill his life story to someone who’s effectively a stranger, it doesn’t matter who you are.

e.g. Hiding Lucien’s real father from him and Helion, like wtf is going through your head, because now if they find out, there’s a possibility that the Night Court lose two allies, Day (Helion) and Autumn (Eris). Never mind Azriel and a blood duel, this damn secret is bad for you stupid political balance, but it’s not gonna go that way cuz SJM is so far up the Inner Circle’s asses, I’m surprised she’s not popping out the other end.

I’m gonna end this part here cuz it’s getting me heated and I don’t want to feel bad.

Elain Archeron

Ok, this part is going to be significantly lighter because I don’t have a lot of thoughts, but I will share some headcanons.

The reason this won’t be long is because I’m relatively ambivalent to canon Elain because I haven’t seen enough of her and her personality yet to have an informed opinion.

My opinion on the ship war thing is just that I don’t think she should even have a romantic relationship yet. I think she needs to find a place for herself in the world now that she’s fae, BEFORE she finds a significant other, because the other two sisters did it the other way and it’s now getting boring.

BUT, if I had to pick someone for her to be with, it would be Lucien, due to the fact that it’s impossible for me to see her with Azriel for the rest of her fae life, it makes no sense to me.

However, to plug any possible sort of future works I might do, I have crack ships of the Vanserras and the Archerons, but it’s not what you think.

I have a mini guilty pleasure ship of Eris x Elain, and Lucien x Nesta (but it has to be in the same universe, if you get what I mean)

With Elain x Eris, it’s because I have the theory that Elain is sizzling on the inside and is going to explode on the Inner Circle. Within this theory, I headcanon Elain to be sarcastically snarky (like Dorian/Lysandra from ToG) and can give Eris some his attitude back in playful way (which is a dynamic I love). And she gets violent when she needs to against people who try to hurt Eris, like when he NEEDS TO KILL BERON.

Also, I don’t think she’d be as sidelined in Autumn as she is in Night, because Eris takes care of the ENTIRE court, she could go around and ask for and give advice on how to grow certain flowers or crops because they’ll be a lot more farmers growing their own crops instead of importing them.

Also, in my opinion, Autumn Court is the most human court as of right now, which I think she would find comfort in, and it borders the Spring Court which I think she would love to visit.

Also in this headcanon, I think that she’d play a large part in Tamlin’s recovery and the revival of the Spring Court, which would be her path to possibly becoming a High Lady, of Spring if Tamlin abdicates or Autumn with Eris, if she would want either of these possibilities.

Lucien x Nesta should be obvious, I believe that SJM should have kept them mates. They would bounce off of each other well, he’d actually love her how she deserves to be loved, he’d probably act out whatever book scenes she’d want him to.

Anyways, those are my thought on the Archeron Sister - plus a few more tangents (sorry about that).

Also, I have an ACOTAR story planned, but it basically completely rewrites most canon events, so it’s an AU instead of a fanficion. Hints for it include azriel x oc, eris main character, Lucien main character, the dusk court, dragons, starborne power.

HOWEVER, in this AU, the other series will not exist. No Throne of Glass, no Crescent City. There will definitely be themes and passages used from those series, and names will be dropped (e.g. Ashryver) but it has nothing to do with this character, like Aelin won’t be mentioned at all as the Aelin from Throne of Glass.

Let me know if you want to see it xx

– Serenity 🤍

#✩ ͙˚ ꒰ post by serenity #✩ ͙˚ ꒰ ask or request #acotar #acotar critical #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #elain archeron #feyre archeron critical #rhysand critical #cassian critical #inner circle critical #night court critical

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sunshinebingo · 6 months ago

Text

Gwyn and Azriel stumble across Rhys as they leave for their date.

Gwynriel with a dash of Gwynsand - 700 words

For @lulling-night-sky who is a sucker for fluff and anything that has to do with Rhysand (except my fics where he gets beaten up)

***

“Ready?” Azriel asked Gwyn after having gaped at her in awe for a while.

Gwyn beamed, her heart fluttering at how flustered she had – not for the first time – rendered the usually stoic Spymaster, and nodded excitedly.

She had been looking forward to this moment for the entire day. Even as she had fed and played with Nyx, her thoughts had kept going back to Azriel and their upcoming evening together.

Having happily agreed to spend the day looking after the little lord with Nesta at the River House so that his parents could focus on their duties, Gwyn had decided to bring everything that she would need and get ready for her date with Azriel here instead of asking someone to winnow or fly her back to the House of Wind. Besides, Emerie and her had spent so much time here with the inner circle that the High Lord and Lady always had a guest room reserved for them.

She took the hand that Azriel offered and followed him from the bottom of the staircase to the foyer. From the living area, she heard the voices of Nesta and Cassian who was enthusiastically responding to the prattling of Nyx, as well as Feyre who had returned while Gwyn was stressing out over whether to put her hair up or leave it down.

She had gone with the third option proposed by Nesta to tie the top half up with a pretty silver hair stick gifted to her by Emerie for Solstice. The best thing about it was the thin dagger hidden inside that could potentially come in handy. She might be going out with one of deadliest – and most handsome – male alive, but she was still a Valkyrie who loved daggers, especially when they were disguised as pretty accessories.

“You are breathtaking.”

Gwyn blushed from his compliment. Emerie and Nesta were right about the fact that her little black dress was the ideal choice. It was also a perfect match to Azriel’s entirely black attire.

“So are you, Shadowsinger.”

His answering smile almost made her trip on her own feet. He brought their intertwined hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

Azriel opened the door and started to leave when another set of footsteps was heard coming their way. Looking to her left, Gwyn saw Rhysand strolling towards them with his hands in his pockets, no doubt having completed his work for the day and ready to reunite with his mate and son.

“Bye Rhys.” She waved a hand at him.

Gwyn still couldn’t believe how close they have become over the past few years. Sometimes they were a High Lord and a Valkyrie who worked together for the well-being of those they cared for, other times they were confidants who listened and offered support. Sometimes they were like protective siblings who looked out for each other, oftentimes they were the type of siblings who teased and pestered the other. But at the core of all these versions of them were mutual respect and care. The kind of bond that Gwyn never thought that she would ever have. None of the relationships that she had forged so far had been expected, yet they were all precious in their own way.

“Be home by midnight,” he ordered, pursing his lips to stop the smile that was threatening to break on his lips. His violet eyes sparkled like the first stars that had started to appear in the sky. Azriel snorted at the curfew that his brother was imposing on Gwyn.

“Fuck off.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re not my father.”

Rhys crossed his arms and puffed his chest. The arrogant asshole, she thought.

“I’m old enough to be.”

Gwyn laughed. She squeezed Azriel’s hand and dragged him out of the door, eager to finally be alone with him.

“You’re old enough to be the cauldron’s father,” she shouted at Rhys before slamming his own door shut in his face.

The sound of Rhys’ gasp on the other side of the door was covered by the chuckle that Azriel let out beside her. What a lovely way to start their evening!

#gwynriel #Gwynsand #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand #some fluff #Some fun #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #Gwyn & Rhysand #gwynriel fanfiction #drabble #Drabbles are so fun to write!

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honeybeefae · 1 year ago

Note

enemies to lovers with Az 😩

Behind The Masks (Azriel x Reader)

BINGO: Enemies to Lovers

(This is the SFW version but I’m sure I’ll write a continuation of this for the NSFW prompt bc this was requested so much! If you want a part 2…I left it on a cliffhanger for a reason. *wink wink*. I hope you guys enjoy!!)

WARNINGS: Slight angst

“Does everyone have what they need?” Rhysand asked your group, looking at everyone individually as you all nodded. “I know this isn’t ideally how we would spend a weekend but it must be done.”

“I have no problem using my Saturday to dance with this beautiful woman.” Cassian grinned, tugging Nesta to his side who just rolled her eyes with a small smile. “Isn’t that right, Az?”

You grimaced when the Shadowsinger looked down at you with disdain. For whatever reason, despite your history of hating each other, Rhysand and Feyre had paired the two of you together for the Masquerade Ball tonight in the Court of Nightmares.

Normally Mor would be taking your place but she was off doing something else so if you hadn’t coupled up, you both would’ve been the odd two out. It made sense logically but neither of you was very happy about it.

“Let’s just get tonight over with.” Azriel responded cooly, squaring his shoulders and gripping his mask tightly in his fists. You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Right because I’m the bad company.” You snarked, crossing your arms. Feyre gave you a sympathetic look but you avoided her gaze, motioning to the door. “Can we just leave?”

“Please.” Rhysand said, wanting to diffuse the tension as they winnowed. Cassian lifted Nesta into his arms and stepped outside, taking off into the night as you reluctantly did the same with Azriel. He barely looked at you as he followed suit, his jaw tight as you all headed to the mountain.

—--------------------------

The party was in full swing, everyone dawning masks of various shapes and colors, and you found yourself being spun around for the fifth time that night. Azriel had abandoned you as soon as the music started but you didn’t really care, choosing to enjoy the night as best as you could.

You drank and ate with Nesta, sneering at some of the court ladies who turned up their noses at you both. Desperation reeked off of them, just like the rest of the court, as they took every chance they could to grab for power or put others down.

“Azriel isn’t keeping up with his part of the plan,” Nesta noted, sipping her wine while watching you frown. “Do you even know why he acts like this towards you? How long has this childish tantrum been going on?”

“Since we meet.” You replied, downing the rest of your glass. “I did something to piss him off, questioned his authority or some petty shit, and I guess that was the end of our relationship. Not that I care.”

“Mhm.” She nodded though she doubted you were telling the truth. “Maybe he wants something else, someone else if you catch my meaning.”

Your eyebrows rose as you gawked at her, shaking your head furiously. “Absolutely not. One, I’m not his type. Two, never in a million, billion years.”

“You’d be surprised how fast that time passes.” Nesta said coyly, placing her glass down and walking away before you could argue. You looked around once more, not even seeing the Shadowsinger, before reaching for another glass.

A large, scarred hand stopped you before you could grab it. You scowled, following the arm until you were looking into the hazel eyes of a man you hated. “What are you doing?”

“I think you’ve had enough.” He stated lowly. “Surely you don’t want to make a spectacle of yourself. Though, now that I say that, I’m sure you would like the attention.”

Red, hot anger filled your veins at his casual insult, and you gave him a middle finger, spinning on your heel to go find somewhere else to be until he grabbed you roughly and spun you back into his arms.

Before you could blink he had you in the middle of the dance floor, your chest pressed against his while his hand rested on the small of your bare back. You struggled against him but that only made him tighten his grip.

“You’re making a scene.” He whispered through gritted teeth, a black mask concealing half of his face. “Get it together.”

“Since when do you care?” You spat, not even hiding your distaste as you circled the ballroom. “I thought you wanted to get tonight over with. If I cause a scene surely that helps your problem with me.”

“I do not have a problem with you.” Azriel rolled his eyes.

“Oh is that what a friendship is with you then? Brooding stares, snide comments, and constant patronizing?” You reply sarcastically, your own mask doing little to conceal your feelings. “Boy, I must be your best friend.”

“Are you always this insufferable? No wonder you haven’t bedded anyone in months.” He snarks, almost tripping over his own feet when you stopped suddenly. The other couples around you stopped as well, all of them eager to see what drama was unfolding, but you didn’t want to give them anything to use against you.

“I hate you.” You swore, tears welling up in your eyes as you ripped your hands out of his grasp and stormed out of the ballroom, brushing off Nesta’s hand as she tried to stop you.

The air around you felt too hot, too heavy as you started running down the hallways while holding the skirts of your dress. Tears were freely flowing down your cheeks as you ripped off your masks, not caring that some people were staring and laughing at your misery. You didn’t stop running until you reached your room in the Court of Nightmares, slamming it shut behind you as hard as you could.

You went over to the mirror and looked at yourself, looked at the smeared mascara, and hated how he had gotten to you. All this time, after living with this for years, never once had you shown him how much the things he said affected you. It would only make things worse.

And yet here you were, causing a dramatic scene in the worst place possible with the worst person possible. You truly were pathetic.

Knock. Knock.

Immediately you knew it was Azriel. Rhys had probably sent him for damage control, forcing him to swallow his pride to apologize. You refused to answer.

“I know you’re in there. Open the door.” His voice was cold.

Silence was all he got. You heard him shift his feet in frustration.

“If you don’t open the door I’ll break it open myself. For once just listen to me.” He huffed, though his tone turned soft towards the end. You walked over to the door and took a deep breath, staring at the engraved wood.

“Fuck off.” You replied sweetly, flipping off the door and turning to walk to the bathroom. There was barely enough time to wince when the door creaked under the weight of his shoulder before he barged in, a scowl settled deep on his face.

“I’m trying to talk to you.” He said while kicking the door back closed with the heel of his shoe. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Why can’t you seem to take a hint?” You jabbed, crossing your arms over your chest defensively. “I don’t want to talk to you. I know that might be hard for your tiny brain to comprehend but I think you got all your feelings out with that comment in the ballroom. Now, as I said earlier, fuck off.”

“Can’t take the heat?” Azriel taunted, stepping closer to you while ignoring everything you had just said. “I expected more resilience from you, more bite.”

You didn’t even think about it when your hand came up to slap him, gasping when his own hand wrapped around your wrist and stopped it inches from his face. You struggled to follow through, barely able to move his arm, as his smirk grew tenfold.

“Let. Me. Go.” You ordered, rage making the edges of your vision red. There was something else in the atmosphere, something that would be extremely dangerous if you gave it any attention.

“Or what?”

You were chest to chest with him, your head tilted up to glare at him as he raised a mocking brow. The urge to wipe that stupid smirk off his face was growing like an inferno.

“You’re such a stupid, barbaric Illy-” You began to spit until his mouth crashed against yours, silencing the rest of your sentence as you stood there in shock. He immediately swiped his tongue along your lips and you didn’t fight him, didn’t breathe until you felt a fresh, hot wave of arousal swirl with your anger.

It was infuriating and intoxicating all at once. The answer to all your secret desires while also opening up questions to everything you once knew as the truth. You felt yourself spiraling and the only thing connecting you to reality was Azriel’s soft, hungry lips.

And you wanted more.

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gaysindistress · 9 months ago

Text

Heretics and Flesh Devotees

Based on the poem Anorexic by Eavan Boland

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/pinterest and collaged on canva

pairings: azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Flesh is heretic. My body is a witch. I am burning it. And I am burning the man who condemned me to such a fate.

Warnings: mentions of abuse (not detailed), mentions of misogyny (not detailed)

Word count: 2.2k

Gaysindistress masterlist | azriel masterlist

My body has never been mine. It’s been owned, sold, bought, and branded by others time and time again. My body has never been mine to command and control as the authority in my life has. It’s disgusting to think that in the years since my birth, my body, my soul, and my will has been placed into the hands of others.

As a babe it was my parents although they did try to be gentle and kind. Their faults were found in the ones they left to care for me. The awful creatures hated me for a name I did not choose and wished their hearts’ cruelest desires onto me. As one would assume those desires became my reality as I grew older and started to fight back against them. Their words hurt but they bounced off where they once slashed. Their look stung where they once left burn gashes. Their foul intentions felt like flicks on my nose where they once felt like I’d been beaten to a pulp.

My body still wasn’t my own even though when I prayed for it to be returned to me. Boys who felt entitled to looks and touches tried to lay their claim to me. Men who felt like they deserved praise for caring for me tried to demand me in payment for their actions. Too jaded against it all, I turned to a creature that would prove to be far worse than any boy or man I could’ve been gifted to.

The creature I thought I would safety in begged for my eternal devotion and demanded that I give over whatever I could. He made me into a prisoner and my body into a witch that worshipped him.

Every molecule that made up my body, mind, and heart screamed when I began to fight against its urges. The enormity of my own craving made me sick when I wailed at the scorching of my secret ministrations.

At night, I poisoned my mind when it thought of him. I bruised my limbs when they carried me towards him. I broke what I had to when I tried to search for him. I destroyed myself over and over again until the thought of him made my stomach turn and my skin crawl.

The sick version of me tried to bend me and sent fever throughout me. In my delirium, her half truths felt like the sweetest angelic hymns. Whispering into my ear, she tried to coax me into slipping back into my old solutions.

I renounced her honeyed voice and vomited out her milky words. I renounced her hungered tongue and spat out her name along with his. I fused the flames that came when I thought of him with the spite I conjured and burned the bitch alive from the inside out.

Morphed into a starved and twisted soul, I laughed when he began to resent me. It took him months to realize that something had changed within me. I was no longer painted with soft edges and stunning features but carved into a curveless piece of skin and bone that mocked him. At dinners and events thrown in his favor, I sipped at my rotten wine while the women among me gossiped the state of my marriage. They did not utter a single word for how I seemed to be fairing but how the once holy union between him and I seemed to be slipping.

I sipped at the foul liquid until it stained my lips a violent shade of calculated vengeance. I pretended to swallow entire bottles and postured drunkenness so they would think I couldn’t hear the things they confessed to.

My husband’s heavy stare always found me as I slumped further and further into my chair, allowing him to believe that my pain to consumed me. The hungry leery he masked with an adoring gaze had faded into disappointment and disgust, so much so that eventually he stopped looking altogether. No longer did he pull me into his lap, his Herculean arms caging me in falsified comfort and demand to know what was bothering his beautiful wife.

Instead he found younger and more attractive women to watch and eventually fill his time with. Instead a young woman, borderline girl, with flowing locks of auburn hair and gentle curves became his new hobby.

Thin as a rib, my knife slept under my pillow. The feverish bitch within me cried and cried as she watched me plot his demise. It pained the other within me that withered and gasped for air to think I could even contemplate such a scenario.

Could I truly commit murder?

Could I truly force my husband to shuffle off this mortal coil?

The dueling fates were soon quilled when I turned in sleep to find claustrophobia looming over me. His warm body threatened to suffocate me while the haunting sound of his inner thoughts filled the breadth between us. Once I had been pulled into slumbers embrace by his heart beat’s gentle drum and quiet song of his breath but now it closed in on me and pressed.

I could not muster the strength to find my rib like knife nor move it from its hiding place. I promised myself only a few more days of this torture. Only a few more nights of slipping back into his bed before I set myself free.

I hadn’t intended on waiting for another few weeks but an uninvited guest coiled my plan into nothingness.

Azriel the Shadowsinger.

He arrived just as his name implied; as silently as the night and slithered his way in without resistance. He was a man born with charmed words that dripped from his silver tipped tongue and slid between pearly white teeth. A man known for his third eye, the Truth-Teller, that when he showed up on our doorstep, my husband begged him to stay for fear of his wrath. Like a shadow, he was present in every crevice of the house and was not seen. My husband’s ego got his way, tripping him up as he stumbled to accommodate Azriel, the embodiment of shadows with violent hazel eyes.

The woman my husband found to be my replacement took her role before I was revealed. Instead I was whisked away into a room hidden deep within the compound. She played the dutiful host and doted on her guests. She donned the gowns once crafted for me and wore the jewelry I previously did. She laughed at the jokes the men made and smiled sweetly at the husband she desired but would never love. She became the wife and I hated to see another take my place for I knew what awaited her.

I wanted to spare her. I tried to spare her but my efforts were in vain. She cried out when I told her to leave. She screamed when she saw my knife meant my husband. She fell into it when I tried to pull away from her ivory grasp.

As I said, I hadn’t intended on becoming into the personification of destruction but it was inevitable when I was given no other choice.

Blood drips from me and hits the floor beneath me with a deafening loudness as my husband stares at me.

A single question hangs in the air; “What have you done?”

“What have I done?” I calmly ask, arching a brow at the man who stands and dares to judge me. “The better question is what did you make me do.”

It’s a disgusting sight to behold; him pretending that I’m nothing more than a body of mangled bones and broken convictions molded by him. Dark as night and deafening as the ever present silence that fills when you’re dying, his gaze tries to weigh me down and fails.

Azriel smiles when he senses my anger and he becomes a conduit of my emotions as the twin sinister glint to mine flickers in his dark eyes. He reclines against the rotting wood walls like a feline would; regal and untouchable but lethal all the same.

My husband throws a glance to the blood that is pooling around me with disappointment before speaking, “Your actions are your own. Take responsibility for the carnage that you have created for once in your pathetic life. This is all your fault, y/n.”

My eyes narrow at his choice of words.

Take responsibility? My fault?

Fitting that he would choose to say that I need to take the blame for the actions I committed because of him. He had been the one to deem me an object to be bought and sold. He had been the one to make me in his image and create a wife he felt was worthy of him. He had been the one to turn my body into a heretic and I had no other choice but to burn her at the stake.

“Husband,” I start as I take a step forward while he takes one back, “What I have done is only because you forced my hand. Every drop of blood, scream ripped from raw throats, tears shed have been because of you.”

Azriel’s terrifying chuckle rings through the room, causing the remaining members of my husband’s house to drop their heads and hide their fear. The blood of their new lady of the house fills the room with a coppery stench and some have taken to covering their faces with their collars. As Azriel around the room, his chest swells with pride at the terror that he’s caused in them but it stills when he lands on me.

A creature who’s grown angular and unholy in the confines of her husband’s cage.

He smiles as he lets his dagger like eyes to slash across my frame.

“Enough of whatever petty martial bullshit this is about,” he dismisses with boredom thick in his voice. “You took something from me and I want it back.”

My husband attempts to fix the situation but the guest cuts him off.

“I said enough,” he seethes, gritting out the words between clenched teeth. The action tightens and sharpens his already pronounced jaw, giving him the appearance akin to a statue.

Within seconds my coward of a husband is lying on the ground, crying and begging for his lord as the Lord of Bloodshed, Cassian, stands over him with his siphons glow a brilliant red.

“Please I don’t have it. I swear I don’t have it!” he begs while the bigger man growls before landing a swift kick to his stomach. “Take whatever you want, please. Anything and it’s yours.”

Cassian looks to Azriel and awaits his judgment. Azriel has not looked away from me this entire night. He’s still locked in on me as he nods. Cassian bends down and grips my husband by the neck, hauling him up so high his feet dangle helplessly below him.

“That’s a dangerous deal you’ve just made.”

My husband begs and begs for his own life but not for mine or even the wife he replaced me with as she lays on the floor in a pool of blood.

“If only I believed you,” Azriel sighs, “but I don’t and I’m not in the mood to hear any more of your lies.”

“Y/n..” my husband turns his pleading to me but I interrupt him with a roar of anger.

“Enough,” I hiss at him, rage boiling in my veins, “You used and manipulated me for years. I was nothing but a toy to brought out when you grew bored. You’ve shoved me off to the side and pushed me to my breaking point but now that the consequences are coming for you, you turn to me and expect me to help.”

Azriel has taken to prowling towards me now that my calm facade has dropped. He stalks me like an apex predator would their prey.

“Did you hear that, princess?” He poses the question to me and only me. “He’s offering you up like a prized goat when he could just give me what he took. That’s not very nice now is it? Seems a bit selfish doesn’t it?”

I attempt to sneak a glance at my husband but he catches my chin in a tight grip, “Don’t look at them, look at me.”

And I do. I’m met with a torrid stare that calls to that divinely angular and starving creature within me.

“You can have her! Take her, please! Please just don’t kill me,” my husband cries out as if I’ll be his saving grace. The sounds are muffled as the utter chaos that lives within Azriel’s heart soothes me into the fall.

I fall into the forked tongued embrace of this devilish man.

I fall into the need of a python that wraps itself around us both.

I fall into the heaving breaths that lunge my chest up and down as I stare at his lips.

I fall into the visions of heat, sweat, gluttony, and lust that awaits us.

Azriel visibly cringes before me at my husband’s words but waits for me.

“Well princess?”

“I want my freedom,” I demand and he flashes me a disastrously beautiful smile.

“Of course,” he promises me. “Of course, princess.”

#az imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #az x reader #azriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #heretics and flesh devotees az x reader

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thisblogisaboutabook · 9 months ago

Text

Cowboy Like Me - Part 5

Azriel x Reader

Reader is introduced to the rest of the Inner Circle, Elain included. Azriel feels awkward. Nyx is adorable. Amren does what Amren does best and throws shade.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

Warnings: suggestive language, alcohol

The “River House” as it was so lovingly referred to was stunning and not a house in the slightest. It was an estate, and a massive one at that. I was able to hide my awe at the size of it upon arriving to the grounds but any mask of indifference disappeared as I stepped inside.

The air inside welcomed me with the aromas of seasoned foods and warm bread. Fresh flowers and art decorated the entry hall of the manor - loving, thoughtful intricacies decorated the attached living area along with cozy furniture and amenities. Somehow the High Lord and High Lady managed to turn this grand estate into a home. The sounds of laughter from another room were enough to tell me that this was a home of love and not the cold, indifferent atmosphere of many in the upper echelon of Prythian.

Before I could explore, Mor grabbed my arm and whisked me up the grand staircase. “Come on! Let’s indulge in the riches of our excursion.” Her full lips spread into a warm smile.

The room - her room - was exactly what I’d picture for the female. It was somehow luxurious if a bit sultry, while warm and welcoming, much like she was. She took my hand, leading me to a large oak vanity. With a flick of her wrist, the pocket realm revealed our spoils. Rummaging through them, Mor pulled out cosmetics from one of the boutiques we’d stopped in. I went to reach for the items but Mor swatted my hand away. “I know you’re capable of doing your own makeup but I believe I’ve got many years of experience on you. Pleaseeee, may I do your makeup? Please, please, please?”

She made a show of the pleading forming a pout on her lips, batting thick eyelashes as if she were a child trying to win over their parents.

I giggled. “Fiiiiine. Do your worst, Morrigan.”

She clapped, letting out a squeal. “Only my best for you, dear.”

An hour later my face was made up - lips painted a sultry red, kohl lightly lining my eyes, my eyelashes so thick that I likely could blink and blow half the estate away. One half of my hair fell over my shoulder in loose waves while the other was pinned back, accentuating my high cheek bones and pointed ears. A gorgeous blue dress that wasn’t too formal for dinner but was definitely a bit…. extra, fit me like an extra layer of skin. Fortunately, if I was overdressed, Mor would be too as she wore the same, only in red.

Gazing in the mirror I had to admit. I did look pretty damned beautiful. The dress hugged my curves perfectly, accentuating my feminine figure.

“Your boobs look AMAZING.” Mor shamelessly exclaimed as she smoothed out the front of her dress before looking down to admire her own cleavage.

“Says you” I smirked. “You look divine.”

“We are quite the double-threat.” She laughed. “Come on, let’s introduce you to the rest of the family and eat. I’m STARVING.”

“It hasn’t been that long since we ate!” I laughed.

“What’s that have to do with anything? Besides, the sooner we eat, the sooner we can break into the expensive wines.”

With that, she extended her arm and led me downstairs.

———————————-

Mor led me into a seating area where Nesta was sitting with a female who looked like a softer version of her. Not the High Lady, so this must be the third Archeron sister, Elain.

Mor’s demeanor shifted slightly as we entered the room, walking toward Nesta who looked up from her book to greet me “Hello, Y/N.”

I smiled. “Hello Nesta, I missed having our lesson together today. I’m rather eager to brush up on my ballroom dancing skills soon.”

The silver-eyed female smirked with a hint of amusement that only a trained eye could spot “It’s not you who needs the extra work, it’s the toe-stepper.”

I huffed a small laugh. Her and Mor were so different yet both felt like they could have been good friends in another life, had I been born into this circle.

I turned to the doe-eyed female next to her about to introduce myself when Azriel entered the room gaze fixed on Nesta. “It was one time! You two are never going to let that go, are you?”

Elain tensed as his gaze shifted to her from Nesta, he nodded his head in greeting before turning toward me.

When his eyes met mine, he froze, that intense hazel gaze sweeping from my head to my toes and back up again, twice. I could have sworn his gaze fixed on my chest for a moment before he met my eyes again. “You look…” he paused, then glanced slightly to the side, seemingly remembering who was in the room. “Nice.”

Mor scoffed. “Nice? I know you’re not a male of many words, Az, but nice? I’d go with ethereal, like a goddess, a deity.” She rolled her eyes, scoffing once Mor. “Nice.”

Azriel said nothing as Mor again took my arm, “Come on, Y/N, let’s go speak with people who will appreciate your naturally gorgeous features and my incredible skills in enhancing them.”

A part of me begged to feel disappointment in Azriel’s choice of words but, words meant so little when his eyes said so much. Perhaps he still had a relationship with Elain? Perhaps they didn’t have one but he didn’t want to hurt her? Perhaps he was completely indifferent and… ugh. Again, why does it matter? He’s a colleague and nothing more. He owes me nothing.

Mor and I entered the dining room to find Rhysand, “Rhys” as he told me to call him and the High Lady. “High Lady” I curtsied, “it’s a pleasure to meet you, officially.”

“Hello Y/N,” a soft smile graced her face, her gray-blue eyes fixed softly on me. “It’s nice to have you here. I do remember briefly seeing you during the encounter in the Summer Court but it’s nice to truly meet you.”

“Thank you, High Lady.”

A booming laugh echoed through the room as a broad, tall Illyrian male entered the space, taking up most of the large entryway. Cassian, I recalled. The general of the Night Court’s armies, the fearsome Lord of Bloodshed.

“High Lady? Since when does family dinner have such formality?”

He turned toward me with a wicked grin. “Hi, I’m Cassian. Just Cassian. And you must be my new favorite person - the one who hit Az with that baguette.”

I blushed, hiding a laugh. “It’s nice to meet you, Just Cassian. I’m Y/N.”

Cassian’s eyes lit up at his humor being met by my own cheesy attempt at a joke. “Az didn’t tell me you were so….” His cheeks puffed as he blew out air “So…” with both palms extended, he gestured to me in an up and downward motion. Clearly my figure was not lost on him. Under typical circumstances, this would have been awkward but I could sense that this was, well, just Cassian.

“Oh good gods.” Mor muttered. “You males are truly terrible at complimenting an attractive female.”

Rhys mocked offense, striding up to me only halting a step away. “Y/N, darling. You look exquisite.” then proceeded to take my hand and press a kiss to the back of it.

Feyre’s eyes lit up at the gesture, clearly adept at enduring her husband’s antics. “You really do look stunning, Y/N. And, as I would have told you before Cassian butt into our conversation, please just call me Feyre.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet all of you. Truly.”

At that moment, a shadow-wraith with High Fae features entered the room holding a babbling and insanely adorable winged toddler. “Oh, the wraith said. I didn’t realize there was… company” she eyed me for a moment before returning her gaze toward Feyre, who only smiled and took the babe from her arms. “It’s okay Nuala, this is Y/N, she’s here for family dinner.”

Nuala’s eyebrows rose. “Oh?” Walking toward me in easy-graceful strides and a nod of her head. “It’s nice to meet you.” Her tone and expression kind with a hint of curiosity thrown in.

The lovely wraith skittered out of the room as a very petite fae entered the room with one hell of a commanding presence. Oh, I knew exactly who this was. The legendary “Amren”. Rhysand’s second in command. Gods, she was practically legendary - tales of her both horrifying and awe-inspiring. I bowed in reverence as she assessed me, sniffing the air. “Interesting.” She said flatly, more to herself than anyone else.

“That’s Amren.” Mor noted. “Don’t mind her. She’s likely hangry and in need of a nap.”

“Careful, girl.” Amren chided. “You aren’t far off from the truth. Do not test me.” Her lips curled into a slightly terrifying smirk.

Oh, this was going to be fun.

An awkward silence momentarily filled the room before the toddler in Feyre’s arms noticed my presence, patting his mother’s shoulder before pointing a chubby finger at Mor and me. “Mama, mama! Look! Pretty!”

“Finally!” Mor praised. “A male that knows how to give a compliment. Thank you, Nyxie baby.”

—————————————

Dinner was spread out on the table before us leaving my mouth practically watering. Mor seated herself on my right, Feyre on my left at the head of the table with Nyx in a high chair beside her, and Rhys next to him. Azriel sat across from me avoiding eye contact. Though, I felt his burning gaze on me any time I turned to Mor or Feyre to speak. A small, traitorous part of me heated low in my belly knowing that he couldn’t resist sneaking glances in my direction.

Elain seated herself beside him in an awkward manner as it was the only remaining chair. Her body tense and avoiding any accidental brushes of their arms. I caught her looking at me a few times too, something like longing and contempt warring within her overall kind features. My gut churned at the tension, though nobody seemed to sense it.

A pang filled my chest at the sight of the High Lady at the head of the table and her mate, the High Lord next to her and their son, instead of the opposite end of the table. They were good parents, you could see the love they poured into Nyx overflowing out of him. My parents loved me that way too.

Chatter filled the table, Cassian’s boisterous laugh and risqué comments earning elbow nudges from Nesta to which he’d look at her with nothing but love and adoration in his eyes. The fierce female warming beneath his stare.

I may not be a total romantic but my mind wandered. What would it be like to be loved like that? The way Rhys looked at Feyre and her at him, and the way Cassian and Nesta looked at each other. Mates. Something only the lucky few ever experienced.

“You’re being quiet, girl.” Amren accused. “Listening for information to sell to the highest bidder?”

“Amren.” Azriel warned.

“What?” The petite female added. “This is perfectly normal? For you to invite a stranger, one who is a known spy join us as if we’ve known and trusted her for centuries? Since when do you go to such great measures in seeking evening companionship.”

My jaw dropped at the same time Elain gasped at the statement.

“Enough, Amren.” Rhysand spoke. “She is my guest. I am the one who invited her.”

“A foolish decision.”

Darkness rolled off of Rhys, dimming the room. Feyre diverted Nyx’s attention to her with gentle coos.

I stood to excuse myself from the table, Azriel quickly standing to follow, but Rhys held a hand toward him. “Excuse us, Y/N. I believe we need to have a family discussion on manners. Azriel, stay seated. Elain, perhaps you could show Y/N the garden.”

Mor started “That’s not necessary, I can -“

“You will stay here too, Mor.” Rhys demanded.

Elain slowly, begrudgingly stood up from the table, walking past me with a whispered “follow me.”

——————————————-

Tags: @fxckmiup @saltedcoffeescotch @minnieoo

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readychilledwine · 10 months ago

Text

Bound by Fate pt 6

Summary- When Kaylee Archeron meets Azriel, her world turns upside down. Between balancing her trauma, new powers, a mating bond, and war looming over her new home, Kaylee learns everything is not as little as it once seemed.

Warnings- miscommunication trope, sexual tension, Eris being the queen of pettytown

A/n- this is the smutless version of this filler chapter. But boy, do we love a petty Eris. If you'd like to read the smut version of this chapter, click here

Series Masterlist

Lucien and Kaylee sat around the fire. She had hardly spoken since they left the House of Wind a week ago. She had been focusing all her energy and effort on tracking the Mortal queen, and she had been so close today. They had almost linked until the sun fell, then Kaylee felt nothing coming from the Queen's end.

She did feel Azriel all day today, though. Love was constantly showering Kaylee's bones. She had been trying to ignore it, but as a shadow curled into her hand, dancing between her fingers, then ran up her arm, she broke.

Lucien turned to her instantly, pulling her close as she cried. “It's okay,” he rocked her, running a hand up and down her back. “Just breathe, Kaylee.”

She couldn't, though. Panic began to flood her. Lucien rocked her, whispering comfort to her as he reached into her bag. He pulled out a small stuffed bat, one that He could scent Azriel on, and placed it in her arms. “Just breathe,” he repeated. “Breathe.”

At that soft command, Kaylee felt her mind pause, shifting to focus on Lucien's command instead of her panic. She took a deep breath, eyes locked on his as he silently coached her through her panic. “That's my girl,” Lucien wiped a few spare tears from your face. “Keep going, Kaylee.”

Kaylee clung to Lucien that night, holding him close as she slept as if he was her lifeline. Lucien couldn't bring himself to understand Azriel. No matter how hard he thought about it, he could not understand. Had Kaylee been his mate, had those tables been flipped, he wouldn't have picked someone else over her. Just like he wouldn't pick someone else over Elain.

He didn't stay up long enough to further question it, though. They had to get on the road early. Kaylee thought the queen was close, and Lucien needed to focus on this. He needed to prove Elain right.

Kaylee groaned as bright light hit her face and rolled into the warm chest. She felt a pull in her powers causing her to shoot up and hit a sleeping Lucien. “Lu, she's here.”

The male groaned, arm going around Kaylee's waist. “Who?” His voice was laced heavily with sleep, eyes not even opening.

“The firebird?”

Lucien shot up next to Kaylee, eyes locked on the cursed mortal queen. “Can you feel her?”

Her only response was a nod. “Her name is Vassa. She wants to know what we want.”

Lucien looked between the two. “I trust you,” he looked at Kaylee. The simple statement struck, her eyes lighting up as she smiled. “Tell her everything.”

Night fall came quickly. The three of them spent the day talking and moving back towards the wall, with Lucien stopping every so often to grab some form of flora he had Kaylee staying away from.

When she transformed back, silence fell between the three. There, naked as the day she was born, a mortal queen stood with her red hair moving gently in the breeze. Kaylee went into her bag, grabbing the clothing they had packed just in case Elain's vision had been correct and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” she nodded to Kaylee, moving to go change into the soft tunic and leggings before rejoining them at the fire. “It is nice to speak to peo-” she shut her eyes and sighed. “It's nice to speak with… friends again.”

Lucien spoke first, poking the fire slightly. “I can not imagine how lonely you are, my lady.”

Vassa hummed. “You get used to loneliness. She is the first contact I have had in a long while. Most Humans and fae sleep when I'm human again."

“Do not get used to her being around,” Kaylee's head snapped to Lucien. “Her high lord has demanded her back for the meeting he is having. I will be transporting her to Autumn, and my brother will be taking her to the Night Court from there.”

“Lu-”

“He ordered it, hun. I'm sorry.” Lucien handed Vassa a plate of food. “It will be you and I, if you agree to take my company.”

Kaylee stood, walking away from the fire and wrapping her arms around herself. She stopped at a lake, watching as a few fish swam by and took a seat. She thought she had more time to process. To get away. She felt a tug at the bond and gently answered, letting him know she was alive but still hurting. A wave of regret and of self hatred came down causing Kaylee to flinch.

She was angry.

But Gods did she love him. She stroked the bond back, sending him her love and mixed emotions, and prayed he got the message. "Just give me time," she whispered.

Lucien and Vassa left Kaylee the next morning in a cabin. Kaylee shivered in dark, curling into herself as she waited for this brother to arrive.

To her annoyance, he was late. She took the blanket sitting behind her and wrapped it around herself with a sigh.

“Such a sorrowful noise for one who is supposedly such a happy female,” the tone was mocking and bored. “You three were early.”

“Or you're late,” she shot back, wrapping further into herself.

“No, little Kaylee,” the cabin came alive, flames starting in the fireplace, lanterns glowing brightly, and music playing. “You three were early.” She felt the male place a hand on the part of the blanket she had turned into a hood and pulled it down. “A tiny more attractive version of your sister, I see.”

And this male?

A stunning pale skinned red head. Freckles lining his nose like a constellation of stars. Burning bright eyes sparkling with danger that had Kaylee curling her toes. “You must be hungry,” he said. “I brought food. Come. Eat.”

“Papa told me to never take food from strange men.”

He leaned down to her, face inches away. “Then it's a good thing I am a male, isn't it?” Kaylee made a face as he sniffed her and smirked. “Eat. Don't eat. Makes no difference to me, little one.”

Kaylee stood following him after he walked away. “I don't even know your name.”

“Eris,” the male said, pulling her chair out. “Heir and general of the Autumn Court. The more important question is this,” the male pulled out a chair, turning it so he could straddle it and leaned in close to Kaylee. “Who are you?”

“Just Kaylee.”

He scoffed slightly. “The shadowsinger is offering me a pretty deal to ensure you are returned in one piece,” his hand trailed her chin forcing her to look at him. “Just Kaylee. I can see why too. Such a beautiful thing left to the safety of little Lucien? I wouldn't have allowed you to even leave my bed.”

Kaylee immediately noted how close they were. “I do not believe I will ever be in your bed, Eris.”

The heir smiled, face still near hers. “We shall see about that. I have until nightfall to change your mind.” He pulled away, fingers lingering in her hair as he did. “Eat, just Kaylee.”

Eris finally had Kaylee relaxed enough that the cabin didn’t carry a heavy scent of fear mixed with slight arousal. Bringing her four of his hounds had caused her guard to go down, and now the female sat pretty in his lap, sleeping soundly. His intention in trying to bed her was far from pure, but this would work. She would return to Azriel bathed in his scent from the close contact, and maybe then the male would realize how Lucien felt.

His hands had run through her hair countless times, ensuring each strand held his scent. The blankets she was using were his, marking her body in his scent. The dress he was going to change her into hung in his closet.

Was it as effective as fucking her senseless? No. Would it be enough to piss off the clearly tense shadowsinger? Eris smirked to himself, most definitely.

He kissed her shoulder gently, “Kaylee, we need to get you changed and ready to go to the Night Court.” She cuddled in tighter, squeezing her eyes shut and enjoying his warmth. “You've already overslept, little one, you won't have time to bathe.”

She shook her head, “Do not care.”

Eris stood, lifting Kaylee with him and carrying her to his room. “Well, I need to get ready, at least,” he laid her in his bed, covering her with the blanket, and went to the bathroom. Kaylee sat up a few moments later and felt Her eyes go wide before looking down. Eris stood near the bathroom doorway shirtless, broad muscles on display as she finished changing into finely tailored trousers.

“Stupid fae males and their attractiveness,” Kaylee grumbled softly and laid back into the bed. She had turned her back to the doorway, squeezing her eyes shut, and cuddled into the blanket that smelled like warm cinnamon and fire.

She felt the bed dip behind her and herself get pulled into a warm body. “Is my shirtlessness bothering you, just Kaylee?”

Kaylee refused to let him tease her anymore and rolled over so they were chest to chest, her face near his. “I am perfectly fine. Thank you for asking.”

He chuckled softly. “You do not lie well,” Eris ran the back of a finger down Kaylee's face, smirking as her eyes fluttered shut. “You are such a beautiful little thing.”

Her arousal flooded his nose. Her eyes went wide as he rolled them, so he was on top of her. "Say the word, and I'll stop."

“Please stop,” Kaylee put a hand on his bare chest. “Azriel will not appreciate this.”

Eris held that hand, kissing it softly. “Azriel doesn't even appreciate you, but if you insist little Kaylee. Walking away from the opportunity to share my bed is your loss.”

Eris stood again and motioned towards the burgundy dress hanging up. “You need to get ready. We've wasted a lot of time playing this back and forth game, dearest. We are pushing being late."

Kaylee went towards the dress. It was an expensive fabric threaded with hints of gold and gems. It was fit for a queen, not some common female he had offered to bring home. “This is expensive. You didn't purchase this for me, did you?”

Eris shook his head. “It has been sitting unused in the Forest House for a while. I refuse to show up to a party with you looking less than divine. Therefore, I picked that dress. You look close in size to the female it was made for."

Hewn City terrified Kaylee. She could not help but to cling close to Eris despite Cassian having trained her in fairly basic Self defense. “A few more halls, Kaylee,” Eris held no arrogance in his voice. It had almost begun to border on comfort.

These halls were too close to Hybern's cells. Dark smelling of moisture and earth.

Kaylee felt a soft familiar purr and felt her shoulders fall slightly.

Rhys was close, and he had his beast looking for signs of Kaylee. She also felt the bond tug as it began to come alive.

Eris paused before entering a room. “Well, little one, this will be our last few moments alone.”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” Eris nodded.

“It was self serving, but you are welcome.” She watched as a mask went up, an almost sad dead look coming over the heir’s eyes. He pushed the door open, walking in with her on his arm and a smirk.

Kaylee watched as Rhysand's face dropped, anger flaring in his eyes. She heard the growl from Azriel and Cassian. Eris turned to her, murmuring quietly in her ear, “And the game begins. Thank you for providing me with entertainment, just Kaylee."

Taglist: @impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless

@cat-or-kitten @knmendiola @holb32

@mis-lil-red @minakay @whatsupb18 @deeshag @justdreamstars @pyrostatic @acourtofmarvels @no1massassin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @acourtofbatboydreams @mich0731 @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit

@coralseacourt @snoopyspace @tothestarsandwhateverend

#acotar #azriel acotar #azriel x oc #acotar x oc #azriel x archeron!oc #eris vanserra #boundbyfate #azriel shadowsinger

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