#mor x nesta

[laxibbeb]

i'm soooo normal about what could've been

[rosesncarnations]

The girlies got caught

[velidewrites]

Moodboard Requests || MOR & NESTA

[niceminipotato]

I have the last instalment of my little PRIDE fic thing I was doing for June. And yes I know it's been July for more than a week but we queer every day so it's whatever. Anyway in this one we have my own ship from the ACOTAR series from Sarah J Maas. It's for Nesta and Morrigan. Yes I know they both have people, well at least Nesta does. I love Emerie and Morrigan so don't come at me. Still though, I like Mor and Nesta and I really don't like how they have barely any interactions but that's ok I made some here hehe. Enjoy and don't hate too much k. ;)

PRIDE - Effortless

The House of Wind felt different. Ever since a certain Made being had taken residence in it. For some reason it felt alive. It had before, but now it was as if it was a sentient being. It was curious that in all the time spent in the house it had never felt this way until now. 

Curtains were drawn in the study letting natural light in. The veritas sat atop the desk waiting to draw her memories and play them back to Nesta. To teach her dances of the Night Court so that she may use her charms on Eris. 

At least that was what Rhysand had said. She had accepted of course. She would do anything to aid her cousin, her High Lord. Yet Morrigan loathed the fact that she would be throwing the newly Made female to the lions. It irked her that she had been tasked with giving Nesta the tools which could very well place a target on her back. 

Morrigan had always kept her distance from Nesta. 

At first it had to do with the fact that she, like everyone else, blamed her for letting a child like Feyre be the one to protect them when she was entirely able to do it herself. After getting to know them though, her opinion of the eldest Archeron sister changed. It was still not right for Nesta to put the burden solely on Feyre as she had done for so many years but she could understand why Nesta had allowed it. 

Some time later, when a human Nesta went into the cauldron and emerged a High Fae the reason to keep her distance shifted. Morrigan could tell Nesta hated everything about the change. The new fae kept everyone but her younger sister at arms length. She wanted nothing to do with them or their court and did her best to create a barrier around herself and her sister. Thus Morrigan had stayed away and only watched her from afar. 

Now, the reasons for the distance were something different altogether. There was the fact that even though she was well aware there was nothing she could have done, Nesta’s father had perished right under their noses. She knew the female did not blame any of them and neither did the rest of the Archeron sisters but there was always a tiny irrational part of herself that told her she should have been able to save him. 

And then there was the reason she kept buried deep within herself. The reason why she kept as far away from her as she possibly could. The reason that kept her from helping Nesta even knowing how broken she was. 

At some point in those short months stuck watching over Elaine and Nesta before Feyre had returned, something inside of her changed. The one thing she thought she would never feel. Something so deep it felt painful to hide. Something she could not allow. Especially after confirming with her own eyes that her best friend and Nesta were destined to be. 

Nesta and Cassian were mates. Their bond was unbreakable, sacred. And Morrigan could not, would not, get in the way of something like that. She had no right. Helping Nesta heal fell to Cassian not her. Even it felt like dying to look within her grey eyes. Even though Nesta’s pain shined through in a way that made it hard to breathe Morrigan had to stay away. Who could stand in the way of such a bond.

“You’re here.”

Morrigan took a deep breath before turning to the door, where Nesta now stood. “I’m here.”

Nesta nodded and walked in, her steps toward her felt hesitant, almost strained, but Morrigan did not comment on them. She took the veritas in her hands and moved closer to the other female. The orb of truth was cool to the touch but it was the magic within she could feel throbbing at her fingertips.

“This is the veritas. You’ve seen it before. It’s imbued with truth magic. I shall be using it to show you the dances. If you have any questions ask.” She kept her words short and to the point in order to draw a clear line between them. 

Wordlessly, Nesta came closer, her grey eyes drawn to the orb. Music filled the air as her memories played in the veritas. The Night Court came into view after a second. The ballroom was full of High Fae and a waltz was playing. Nesta watched the scene unfold silently, her eyes glinting in wonder. 

Morrigan had never witnessed that before, the look on her face sent her heart into a gallop. Before long the scene shifted to another then another. Those grey eyes were glued to the orb in her hands and Morrigan thanked the mother for it. 

As time went on she could feel Nesta coming closer in an attempt to get a better view and for once Morrigan allowed herself to enjoy their proximity. Nesta’s scent flowed to her, tickling her nose and it was then that the atmosphere changed. 

Suddenly the veritas glowed and went dark, taking away the music and the dance. Nesta threw her a questioning glance and Morrigan only shrugged, halting any hateful words which may come out. She put the veritas down and took a few steps away doing her best to clear the scent of her nose. Not because it was Nesta’s, no. But because mixed with that sweet scent was Cassian’s. 

“Something the matter?” Nesta asked. 

“No. But you’ll need to change out of those training leathers if you want to practice. Go bathe and put on a simple dress. I can wait.”

“Bathe?” Nesta looked at her as if she had somehow grown a second head. “I suppose I can do that. I’ll be back soon.”

“Right.” 

As soon as Nesta left the room Morrigan released a deep breath. The scents lingered in her nose making her twitch slightly. With a defeated sigh she made her way towards the window sill and sat quietly. Her mind was a jumble of thoughts she could not control. 

Nesta and Cassian under the same roof and practically alone. Of course things would progress that way between mates, even those who did not acknowledge it to anyone else. It had taken them long enough, had it not? 

A strange presence brought her out of her thoughts. It did not feel threatening in any way but it was there. Glancing behind her she noticed a small table atop which a small bowl full of roasted coffee beans sat. 

Morrigan stared at the bowl in confusion. It had not been there before and she had not requested it yet it was there. The longer she looked at it the more confused she became. Why coffee beans? 

When the rich scent reached her slightly chasing away Nesta and Cassian it clicked. Aware she would more than likely sound crazy she spoke to the house as if it were a person. 

“Is this to help clear the smell?”

The fireplace sparked to life for a moment before going back out. 

“I’m assuming that was a yes?” 

At her question the fire flared then extinguished again. 

“So you truly are alive. That is… pretty amazing.” Morrigan found herself smiling before taking a coffee bean and bringing it close to her nose. “Thanks.” Her voice came out softly.

In response she felt one of the curtains draping softly over her shoulder. Morrigan gasped softly wondering if the house, this being she never noticed, understood why she was grateful. The curtains shifted slightly as if they were trying to comfort her. In all her years she had never experienced this but rather than question it she embraced it.

“How complicated are we, huh?” She chuckled bitterly and the house responded through the fireplace just as before. “What can we do? The heart does as it wishes. You wouldn’t understand that. Would you?” She expected the fire but only silence greeted her. “I did not mean to offend. Sorry.” The curtain shifted and she smiled. “Would you happen to know of a way that could help with the scent as we work together?” In an instant another bowl of beans appeared, making her laugh. “Sticking those in my nose would not be very subtle.”

Both bowls disappeared and she sighed as she thought she would have the steel herself in order to deal with the mixed scents. She could do it. She was The Morrigan. She could do anything. 

“This will not be good.”

As she rubbed at her temples a new smell began to permeate the area. Vanilla mixed with mint and wood wafted around her. She thanked the Mother and their ancestors for creating a place such as this.

“Thank you.” She breathed out reverently.

The curtain shifted on her shoulder before dropping altogether just as the door to the study swung open. Nesta walked in wearing a simple long purple dress. Where her golden brown hair had been almost coming out of her braided crown now it sat perfectly within the confines of the braid. Her grey eyes searched the study before finally landing on her.

“Would this work?” 

The other female sounded a bit annoyed and Morrigan did her best not to grin, “works great. Shall we?” She offered her hand to Nesta while waving the other towards the veritas.

Reluctantly Nesta took her hand just before a waltz began to play. Together they moved through the cadences of the music. Morrigan was surprised at how the other female had completely memorized the dance from just one or two runs. She had heard from the Archeron sisters, mainly Elaine, that Nesta was an artist when it came to dancing. Truthfully, if Morrigan were not experiencing this she would not have believed it.

They continued on for another couple of hours, stopping on the few rare occasions where Nesta needed more instruction. By the end of their lesson Morrigan was well spent, not because of the dancing-never because of the dancing-but because being this close, actually touching Nesta was driving her insane. She had not missed the way Nesta let a few smiles into her face as she got lost in the music. At those moments Morrigan had done her best to not react and ignore the other female in her arms.

“Same time tomorrow?” Nesta asked before making her way out and at Morrigan’s nod she left.

Once she was gone Morrigan went back to sit at the windowsill. Elbows on her knees while cradling her face she let out a groan. A gentle thud had her raising her head and she let out another groan when she found a new bowl of coffee beans.

“Hilarious.” She rolled her eyes and she had no idea why but she felt as though she could hear the teasing giggling from the house. “This is going to be a nightmare. Please make sure to mask the scent tomorrow and every day after.” 

“Talking to yourself now?”

She almost jumped out of her skin at her friend’s voice. “By the cauldron, Az! What are you even doing here?” 

“I am your ride remember?” He chuckled. “Unless you changed your mind and would rather stay.”

“No. Fly me high enough that I can winnow.” 

“Why do you want to teleport when I can fly you wherever you need?” He sounded offended by the mere request.

At his tone she groaned internally. “Please just fly me past the wards.”

“Fine.”

“Az-” She began but he interrupted.

“I’ll be at the terrace when you’re ready.” 

He replied coldly and though she wanted to be a friend she also needed him to understand that a friend was all she wanted and needed from him. Letting out a defeated sigh she rose and looked back down at the coffee beans then rolled her eyes.

“So very funny. See you tomorrow.”

The fire bloomed to life for an instant and the curtains fluttered so she waved at nothing in particular before stepping out of the study.

***

Days of dance lessons turned into weeks and Morrigan felt proud of herself for making it thus far. The House of Wind had been very nice to her, always trying to mask the intermingled scents of Nesta and Cassian with a different variation of smells. She was certain without its help all the time spent beside the other female for their lessons would have been a living nightmare. Oh, she was tremendously grateful.

Nesta had been a stupendous student, learning every dance that came her way. Morrigan had told everyone as much. The Archeron sisters had been happy with that while everyone else still seemed skeptical. She had expected that though, since she herself had been the same way. But then she supposed once they saw it then they would understand what she meant.

In all the time spent in lessons no one had attempted to spy on them, not Azriel and thankfully not Cassian. She knew having either of them present would be a distraction in one way or another. Cassian had however asked her to teach him a few dances. Morrigan was well aware of the reason and though she felt guilty she used her teasing as a way to deter him. Watching him leave muttering to himself had her releasing a breath she had not known she was holding. 

Guilt gnawed at her for days, after she had refused to help him. But the thought of aiding in their closeness would more than likely break her. Thus she swallowed her guilt and continued to enjoy the last few days she had left dancing away with Nesta. 

The time spent together had been strange. It was true they did not speak much. Then again what was there to say when the music and their bodies did the speaking. One too many times Nesta had stolen her breath as she smiled and closed her eyes letting the music take care of them. Each time they danced it was as though the female was set free, her steps precise yet flowing together in harmony. 

***

Time flew and the day of Winter Solstice arrived and it came down to her to prepare Nesta. It was painful to do. She had to think of Eris and what would most appeal to him. Nesta had requested she at least wore something less revealing than what Feyre and Morrigan herself would wear. The request did help her slightly. 

Once she finished fixing every little detail and she took a step back to admire her work she felt the wind leave her. Nesta looked breathtakingly beautiful. The black gown accentuated her curves, silver embroidered patterns dotted around the snuggly velvet bodice as its flowy skirts swooshed the floor. Golden brown hair sat braided around her head as if it were a crown and above it a glimmering black stone tiara rested with small sapphires at its spikes. 

“Can I see now?” Nesta asked, wringing her fingers as if she were nervous. A rather uncharacteristic thing coming from her. 

“Uh-yes. Yes, of course.” Morrigan cleared her throat, trying mightily to calm her heartbeat. “A mirror please.” 

At her request one appeared and Nesta took a step towards it so that she could finally see. A gasp came from her but nothing else. The female only admired herself in the mirror without uttering a word. Morrigan wrung her fingers as now it was her who felt nervous.

“Do you like it?” She asked tentatively.

Running her hands down her sides, Nesta let out a tiny smile, “like it? I look… I look like…” Her voice died out as she tried to figure out how to describe it.

“Like the Queen of Night.” Morrigan supplied at which Nesta turned to face her. “I think it fitting.”

“Also like death incarnate.” Nesta chuckled to which she hummed.

“Night. Death. Powerful. Stunning. You are all of those things and that is more than ok.”

At her words that silver flame swirled in Nesta’s eyes, making Morrigan gasp slightly. The female flinched and looked away as if trying to calm her dark magic. As Morrigan saw the fear of rejection take over Nesta she took a step forward. 

Slowly and carefully Morrigan reached out as if the female were some spooked creature ready to bolt at an instant. Nesta tensed slightly when she reached under her chin so that she could raise her head.

“Your magic does not scare me. I respect it. However, that is not why I reacted the way I did.” 

The magic swirling Nesta’s eyes calmed and went out leaving only her natural sparkly grey behind while the rigidness on her shoulders ebbed away, “then?”

Morrigan cursed at herself for even saying anything in the first place but she had to continue. She just could not bring herself to leave Nesta like that. While it was true that she would rather keep her distance from her, watching that sliver of hope in grey eyes vanish was not something she could do.

“Your darkness doesn’t scare me. People like to forget I am a child of The Court of Nightmares and though I am also a dreamer it doesn’t mean I don’t share in the dark.” She smiled. “We all have that Nesta. No one is exempt. That spark of magic you hide may not be light but it is beautiful.”

Nesta swallowed, her eyes fixed on her watching her intently before tearing her gaze away and whispering softly. “Thank you.”

They stood in silence a while longer, Morrigan still holding her chin up and Nesta seemingly enjoying the touch, until there was a knock on the door. As if burned they jumped away from each other and turned towards the door as it opened. Morrigan hoped their awkwardness was not as palpable to others as it was to her. 

Feyre poked her head through and smiled as she admired her sister. The High Lady of the Night Court looked as beautiful as ever, her baby bump noticeable at last. Tonight’s celebration would serve as the perfect excuse to finally announce to the world the baby on the way. 

“You look beautiful, Nesta.” Feyre smiled brightly while Nesta let a small smile onto her face. 

“Thank you. I have to go check something first. See you at the terrace.” 

With that the oldest Archeron sister left, not even a glance back to her. Morrigan was unsure as to what had just occurred between them but she was well aware that the same could not happen again.

“You two make a good pair.” Feyre sent her a knowing smirk.

Morrigan snapped her attention back to her High Lady, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh you know perfectly well what I’m talking about. You may be ancient but you’re not as subtle as you think.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Ok. Then let me be clear.” Feyre chuckled. “You and my sister would make a wonderful couple.”

Morrigan felt the wind leave her sails as she trembled before Feyre. For a moment fear clouded her thoughts. She tried uselessly to find a hint of disapproval or repulsion on her High Lady’s expression but there was nothing.

“Mor, it’s ok.” Her voice was soft and gentle.

Surprised, Morrigan looked at Feyre and shook her head. “How would any of this be ok?”

“You and Nes-”

“Stop. Have you any idea what you are implying? Do you understand that-”

“I understand that you have feelings for my sister. Feelings that go farther and run deeper than any bond.” Feyre walked closer and brushed away the tears Morrigan had not known she was shedding. “Why are you denying them?”

“Enough.” Morrigan pulled away, clearing her face of errant tears and turning away from her High Lady. “Cassian has gone through too much. Entirely too much has been taken away from him. I refuse to take any more.”

“Shouldn’t Nesta have a say on this decision?”

“She has also suffered through enough I will not be the cause of any more suffering. Besides she and Cassian, they-”

“You know, I thought we’d have so much trouble with the glamour to mask the scents.” Feyre’s words made her turn back around while pain singed every part of her. 

“I did not think you would be this cruel.”

“It was no trouble, actually. We thought his scent would linger but it looks like she hasn’t been with him. She’s been abstinent ever since you started your lessons. Why do you think that is?” Feyre tilted her head with her question.

A spark of hope ignited within Morrigan but just as quickly it died out. She could not allow herself to hope. She could not allow herself to wish. Allowing herself to believe that maybe something could come of this was a sure way to break herself. 

“Again. I did not think you would be this cruel.”

“Mor-”

“Please, stop. I do not require a matchmaker, Feyre. Especially not one that wants to lead me to pain.”

“I’m not trying-”

“You are!” Morrigan exclaimed and watched a flash of hurt and guilt pass through her friend and High Lady’s eyes. “I know you mean well. But please, no more.”

“I’m sorry, Mor.” Feyre fiddled with her fingers before coming closer. “Can I just say one more thing?”

“You will either way.” Morrigan let out a sigh. “Go on.”

“We are human.” Feyre began and Morrigan only watched her confusedly, making her chuckle. “Well, we are fae but we began as humans. We think as humans. We behave as humans. We feel as human. In my case the pull I feel to Rhys is only intensified by what my human heart feels for him. Our bond is there and it's true but had he not won my heart I don’t think it would be as it is now.” She allowed the words to sink in before continuing on. “I’m not saying Cass can’t do that too but to me it looks like Nesta’s heart hasn’t and won’t be won by him.”

“You talk as if this were a competition. Nesta is not some prize to be won.”

“It was just an analogy. Still you're right. She’s not some trophy to be won. She’s a person with a complicated heart and feelings. And I can say all I want about who I think is better with her but it’s Nesta who will choose in the end.” Feyre smiled. “Anyway, I’m sorry for making you hurt. I just want you to be happy, Mor, and if my sister does that then I want you to know I’m happy with it.”

“What about our friend? Cassian is important.”

“He is and so are you. You are both my friends and I will be there for the both of you.” Feyre rubbed her arm before linking it with hers. “Let’s go. Rhys is calling.”

Morrigan looked at her with a frown. Usually if Rhysand sent a message to her mind she would hear him as clearly as if he were next to her. “I must have missed him.”

Feyre chuckled. “Oh he tried, but your mental shield is pretty dense right now. We would need to force our way through.”

“Oh, I-”

“It’s fine. I know what you’re guarding in there. But enough of that. Let’s go before he comes on a hunt.”

***

Enchanting. Ethereal. Enthralling. 

Morrigan stood frozen to the spot as she watched Nesta dance. She had heard that the Illyrians referred to her as a witch and watching her now, Morrigan was inclined to agree with them. The eldest Archeron sister had enraptured the entirety of the Court of Nightmares. Chatter had died out and only the music remained while all eyes were on the dancing high fae. Nesta was a witch and she had bewitched them all. Ensnared them with her movements and seized their every thought.

Eris looked ecstatic and Morrigan wanted nothing more than to drag the son of autumn through the pits of hell. Nesta was doing a wonderful job of wrapping him around her little finger. Despite knowing it was just for show, the smiles and coy glances made her blood boil. 

“Control yourself, girl.”

Morrigan’s gaze snapped away from the dancing pair and focused on the short female beside her, “I did not expect you to come, Amren.”

“Neither did I. I was only-”

“Worried about your protege and friend.” Morrigan cut her with a smirk.

“Silence.” Amren glared at her and Morrigan could not help but chuckle at the female’s inability to accept her feelings. “As I was saying, you need to control that ire. It is seeping through the fake smile.”

“I have no idea what-”

“Save us both the time and just accept it.” Amren threw her an exasperated glance. “At first I thought it was just the natural disdain for that waste of space from autumn. However it seems to me it is not only the past anger that is consuming you but the fact that the autumn thrash is dancing with her.”

“Quiet.” Morrigan glared at her.

“The bat boys may not see it but I see it clear as day, girl.” Amren shrugged then focused back on the dancing pair. “The Queen of Death and the Queen of Truth together would rip the world from its hinges.” The short female looked back at her and grinned devilishly. “I think I would enjoy the chaos such a union would bring. See you later.”

“A-are you not staying?” Morrigan stuttered and crossed her arms across her chest.

“I grow bored of this place. She is an amazing dancer but I have had enough of watching. Besides, she is rather well protected.” 

With that the tiny ancient one disappeared, leaving Morrigan alone with her thoughts. She turned her attention back to Nesta and Eris and noticed how Azriel was trying his best to control Cassian. Morrigan could not decide if his jealousy stemmed from love or the territorialism that came with the mate bond. She knew where her jealousy and anger stemmed from and she hated that it came from that. Feyre and Amren’s words ringed in her ears as she watched Nesta but she knew even with their words of encouragement she could do nothing but distance herself once more. It was in the shadows and she belonged. She was meant to reside only in the outskirts of Nesta’s life. 

A servant walked by and she snatched a cocktail, downing it almost immediately, before tearing her gaze away from the female she had recklessly allowed herself to love.

***

Morrigan found herself alone in the balcony of the River House gazing up at the stars. She would never tire of this view. In all of her travels she had never found such a beautiful sight. Then again, this was the Night Court and as such the nights full of twinkly stars and shining moon were meant to be breathtaking.

The gift exchange had gone as predicted and everyone seemed so happy. Laughter and music spilled from the open door and though Winter Solstice was her favorite time of year she could not exactly join in the festivities. Her thoughts were flooded by just one person and that person sat next to her best friend with a soft smile.

It pained her to feel the way she felt. She hated the jealousy that crawled over her skin and heated her blood. It was not fair to anyone much less them. But watching them together hurt too much and made her so angry. She had kept her distance for so long but a mere few weeks undid the lock she had placed on her feelings long ago. 

Why? Why must she feel all of this? Was this truly what she was destined to? A life of solitude. Always standing outside and looking in. Getting a glimpse of what she could have but never would.

“Aren’t you cold out here?”

A gasp escaped her and she flinched at the voice, her voice. Turning back towards the door she found herself staring into those grey eyes. The beautiful dress and equally stunning tiara were long gone despite this Nesta still looked like a queen. Her dress was simple yet elegant. Its soft silk was deep night sky blue, the collar sat just below her collarbone and its long sleeves hugged her arms tightly with tiny diamonds framing the end of the sleeves. 

“I was looking for you. Is this a bad time?” Nesta asked, carefully watching her every movement.

Morrigan swallowed all her pain and smiled. “Not at all. What can I do for you?” 

“I wasn’t able to get anyone a gift. I don’t exactly have money just yet but-”

“Nesta, you need not give me or anyone any gifts. I am happy you are here. Your sisters have a different light about them tonight. I know for certain it is thanks to you.” Morrigan grinned. “I think your presence is a gift enough for them.”

“Cassian said something like that.”

At the mention of the male Morrigan was once more swallowing down her pain and softly began, “he is right. Do not tell him I said that.” 

“I won’t.” Nesta chuckled lightly before biting her bottom lip. “I heard you are leaving.”

Morrigan noted a hint of sadness at her tone but decided to ignore it. “That is correct. As the envoy of the Night Court, I need to bolster our relations as well as get allies for these coming battles.” Nesta said something but her voice was so soft that Morrigan had a hard time hearing her. “Pardon?”

“When?”

“When what?”

“When are you leaving, Morrigan?” Her voice came out hard and almost snapish.

“Tomorrow most likely.” Morrigan frowned.

“So soon?” Nesta asked, taking a step closer.

“I have work to do.”

“Y-you should rest.”

“I have been resting.” Morrigan watched her shift in demeanor and she could not understand why she now seemed so distraught. “Are you alright, Nesta?”

“I need to give you your gift.”

“W-what?”

“Could you come with me?” Nesta fiddled with one of her sleeves while looking at the floor.

“I suppose?” 

With that the other female turned and marched into the house. Utterly confused, Morrigan only followed after her.

They silently walked down the hallway, the laughter, conversations, and music slowly fading away until they reached the library. Nesta opened the door and motioned for her to step inside. Still confused but wanting to find out just what Nesta wanted to give her, Morrigan stepped into the room. 

The high ceiling of the library had been glamoured to mirror the night sky above. Stars twinkled and danced and Morrigan reached to touch them. As her finger brushed against one it went shooting the other way as if it had been a shooting star. 

Nesta drew her attention by clearing her throat. “There is a dance we never did. I learned on my own. You showed me a few times but we never did do it.” 

“The Specere.” Morrigan whispered.

“Yes. The mirror, isn’t it?”

A rush of pain and sorrow threatened to swallow her whole and she bit down the whimper that was rising in her throat. “D-do you know of its origin”

Nesta frowned and shook her head.

“We have been told that the dance was created by two high fae. They were deeply in love but they were not meant to be. At least by their family standards the two just did not fit together, not in their eyes. In defiance they made a dance. Each time a song played they would dance, following each other’s stances and movements. There was never a right or wrong move yet somehow they mirrored each other with precision. It is said that their love was what moved them in perfect synchrony.” Morrigan looked at the ceiling of the library and let out a deep breath. 

“Did they…”

“End up together?” Morrigan finished for Nesta who nodded. “Nobody knows. It is just a story.”

“So what I learned…”

“Is an interpretation of it.” She supplied for her. “The way I have seen someone dance it.”

Nesta thought for a moment before walking closer, “then let's make our own. I want this dance to be your gift.”

“Nesta-”

“Please?” 

The other female extended a hand with a hopeful look in her eyes and Morrigan found herself unable to deny her. Nesta glanced to a table and following her gaze, Morrigan found the veritas. The female before pressed her lips together and Morrigan could only laugh. She waved her hand at it and immediately music flooded the library. 

Together they danced. At the beginning Morrigan could recall the movements from what she had seen time and time before but soon enough they were dancing with their own moves. They mirrored each other perfectly and Morrigan could only smile as they did. At times they drew close only to step back and twirl. It felt as though they were lost in waves. Crashing in only to recede back. Once the song came to its final notes they stood closer than they had during their dance, their gazes locked in each other’s and a light sheet of sweat lining their skin while they panted. 

Nesta broke the silence first, “I guess the end of the story is up to us. We can decide what happens.”

“Tell me then. What happens at the end?”

“They’re together. Because to hell with their families. If their love is strong enough to reflect in their dancing, if they move together without having to utter a single word then why would they not be with each other?”

The question punched a hole through Morrigan and she could feel tears prickling her eyes. With a shaky breath she pulled away trying to calm her quick beating heart. Nesta only watched her, not saying another word. In those grey Morrigan saw things she did not understand.

“I… thank you for my gift.” She managed to say before turning away. “I should get going. I need to rest.”

Quick steps echoed through the library and a hand wrapped around hers. “What do you want from me?”

Morrigan had no idea why she was asking that but replied nonetheless. “I am in no position to ask anything of you.” She glanced over her shoulder and found her own pain reflected back.

“What if I ask for something, then?”

“I will give you anything.” Morrigan said without hesitation.

“Then if I want you to answer two questions with only the truth, will you?” There was a steely look in her grey eyes that spelled trouble but Morrigan could not help herself.

“My magic is truth. I could never taint it with a lie.” She replied softly.

“I want your word.” Nesta insisted. “For my next two questions I want only the truth without dubious answers or wordplay and in return I will give you the same.”

Morrigan tilted her head at Nesta’s wording but thought nothing of it. The other female had only been in the Night Court briefly and she would surely not know how to make a bargain, at least not one which could involve a tattoo. On top of that, Morrigan had already said she would only reply with truth.

“You have my word.”

“Then it’s a bargain.” 

At Nesta’s words, black lines etched themselves around her hand and fingers. Morrigan stood staring wide eyed as a tattoo formed on her own hand mirroring Nesta’s. She had been totally wrong when she thought Nesta would not know.

“Uh-”

“No questions yet.” Nesta cut her off quickly. “I’m part of the Night Court too. And I’m a quick learner. Now you’re bound.”

“You did not need to do this.” Morrigan stepped away from the other female.

“I want straight answers. I’ve had enough of your cousin's wordplay. Besides, even if you would not lie you may still hide things and I don’t want that.”

Panic rose to Morrigan’s chest and the thought of the questions she would be asked. She wanted to run. Run far enough that Nesta’s questions would not reach her ears. Distance, she wanted distance. She could winnow to her estate and then she would be gone and there would be no questions and no one else getting hurt.

“Please, don’t leave.” Nesta’s voice sounded so small while she pleaded that Morrigan stood still, once more unable to deny her. “It won’t be too complicated. I won’t ask you to reveal any secrets.” 

Morrigan held her hands together in front of her and tore her gaze away from Nesta before speaking, “then ask.”

“Am I…” Nesta’s voice broke slightly, making Morrigan look back at her, “am I enough?”

“You must have lost your mind in order to ask something like that.” 

Morrigan allowed her tears to slide down her cheeks. She could not comprehend how Nesta still thought so poorly of herself. How she could not see what her sisters, her friends, and she herself saw. It was incomprehensible. 

“I just need you to say it.” Nesta’s own cheeks were lined with tears, her eyes closed.

“Oh Nesta,” Morrigan gently cleared Nesta’s tears away, “you are enough. What you did in the past does not change what you are doing now. It is also true that what you are doing now does not erase your past. But the past is the past and it that is where it shall stay. So yes, you are more than enough. And you are so loved for the person that you are. I hate that you cannot see what we can.”

Bottom lip quivering Nesta took a deep breath and looked at her, “then why are you, unlike my sisters, running away from me?”

“N-Nesta please, ask something else. P-please.” Pain, physical pain laced up her arm making her wince. 

“I want to know. I want to understand.” Nesta’s gaze intensified and the swirling silver flames began to dance in her eyes. “I know what you feel for me. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it. So tell me why, despite that, you are running away from me?”

“I-I cannot… ah!” Pain shut up her arm and into her chest.

“You have to tell me. Morrigan, you have to.”

Minutes of excruciating pain went by as she tried to fight the bargain but Nesta stood her ground and would not budge. Breathing was becoming slightly harder and she fell to her knees, the other female following suit.

“Please, Morrigan. Please, tell me.”

“Because me staying will hurt too much.” She let out heavily, feeling the pain receding. “Me staying by your side without being able to do anything else will kill me. But then, in the slight chance that you want something more that will mean others will be in pain.” Morrigan hiccuped and watched tears running down Nesta’s face while she shook her head. “It is not fair. Not for me or you or Cassian… he is your mate, Nesta. I cannot take you away from him. You two are meant to be together. Your bond-”

“To hell with the bond!” Nesta exclaimed and stood up to pace the room. “I didn’t ask for it. I get to choose. Me! Not some ancient rule that is more based on whether your offspring will be good or not. It is ridiculous that you all let some moronic thing from millenia ago dictate who you will be with. And it is not fair.” She turned back to face her, taking a deep. “Cassian is important to me. I won’t deny it. He has helped me through awful times.”

“Then what do you want from me?” Morrigan said in between whimpers as she looked at her from where she kneeled on the ground.

“I want you to stay… with me. I want you to stay.” Nesta answered quickly as if compelled to do so, which meant the bargain was still active on her side.

“Nesta…”

“I wanted to feel.” Nesta interrupted and Morrigan closed her mouth and listened. “I wanted to feel something. It sounds and is so selfish. I wanted to feel so I used him to feel. It wasn’t until he was between my legs that the numbness went away. I’d lose myself and the power thrumming beneath my skin would just stop.”

Her words clanged through Morrigan bringing way more pain than what trying to abstain from answering her had brought. “I think that is enough. There is no need for you to say anything else.” 

“But then you…” Nesta’s voice wavered, drawing Morrigan back. “You made me feel by just standing there. Even before everything happened you were a constant in my head. With him there’s always the need for more from me but you… with you everything is so different. You haven’t silenced my fire, you've embraced it. My magic doesn’t go away when I’m with you, it calms, it becomes mine. Being with you feels so effortless.” Kneeling once more before her, Nesta took her hands in her own. “You can’t leave. I need you here.”

“But Cassian-”

“Can you think about yourself now? Just yourself. Please.” Nesta cried, her tears coming down in droves. 

Morrigan shook her head, “I-”

“Ask me.” Nesta said quickly, squeezing her hands. “Ask me, Morrigan.”

Morrigan watched her, the question she wanted to ask surfacing inside her head almost instantly. Effortless, Nesta had said. Being with her felt effortless to Nesta. But Morrigan knew well that dealing with the repercussions of allowing this to happen would be anything but. They would have to deal with both Cassian and Azriel, and who knew what Rhysand thought of it all. Amren had been right, being together would bring chaos. It could divide their circle at a point in time when they needed to be closer than ever. There were too many unknowns, their very lives were being threatened as it was.

“Mor… p-please, ask me.” 

Nesta pressed her hand to Morrigan’s cheek, making her whimper at the touch. She needed Nesta. She needed her so much. And she was right, distancing themselves when something could come of this was absurd. It was not fair at all. There would be so much pain and not only for her.

“Mor.”

Taking a deep breath, Morrigan leaned into Nesta’s hand and briefly closed her eyes before opening them once more. “D-do you�� do you love me?”

Nesta smiled as more tears ran down her face, “yes. I love you in a way I never thought possible.” 

Morrigan laughed softly through her tears and felt her whole body begin to tremble as Nesta grew nearer. Her scent surrounded Morrigan in an instant and unlike before she need not brace herself because the scent was just her, it was only Nesta. Their breaths mingled while Nesta now cradled her face, her touch ever so gentle as one wrong move and she would break. Then she stopped moving forward, not in hesitation but to ensure Morrigan wanted the same thing she did.

“Yes.” Morrigan whispered.

Without a second thought, Nesta’s lips were moving on top of hers and in the world there was only them. She knew Nesta’s lips were soft from looking at them but feeling their softness now was a different matter. They moved together in their own dance. It built up with each second, going from soft and chaste to intense and passionate. Morrigan had been alive for so long and had kissed so many others and yet she had never felt this. She could feel it everywhere. In the pit of her stomach. At the tip of her fingers. Rushing from her head to the bottom of her feet.

There had always been something missing and now she knew the missing piece was Nesta. Her blood rushed for her, burned for her. Her heart sang its song and her soul intermingled with hers. The kiss tore her world and formed it anew. She could not believe she wanted to run from this. By the mother, why had she waited this long? This was what she needed to finally be whole. They were not mates like Feyre and Rhysand or her own parents. But their connection to each other was just as strong.

When they finally broke away, their foreheads pressed together and panting, matching smiles etched into their faces. Morrigan knew what would come from this. The good and the bad. However, if she had Nesta she could care less about it. She knew the people they would have to face. But if she had to in order to be like this then let them come. She would face it all.

“I know the bargain is fulfilled but…” Nesta bit her lip and looked away. 

Morrigan knew what she wanted to ask already and she grinned. “I did not expect you to be this… soft.”

“I’m not soft.” Nesta glared for a few seconds before letting out a breath. “Only with you.” She admitted reluctantly. 

“I may have noticed.” Morrigan chuckled as the other female grumbled. “Nesta?”

“What?”

“I also love you.”

Nesta tried and failed to hide her smile but the moment Morrigan was going to point it out the other female stopped her with yet another kiss. Once more the world fell away, leaving only them. As they parted Morrigan watched Nesta's silly smile turn into a more smug one which made her laugh and shake her head.

“You’ll still have to go. Won’t you?” Nesta’s smile withered away.

Morrigan pulled away only to place a kiss on her forehead. “I do. What I said about being an envoy remains true. I have to bolster our relations with other territories and get us allies.”

“I see.”

“But I still need some rest.” 

“You do?”

“I do.” Morrigan watched as a smile grew once more in Nesta’s face and she mirrored it. “I need you to listen to me, alright?” At Nesta’s nod she placed a light kiss on her nose before continuing. “Even when I have to go I need you to understand that I will always come back to you. Always, Nesta.”

“You… you…” Nesta huffed slightly. “You promise?”

“I swear.”

“This is going to be messy.” Nesta mused but soon a smile illuminated her face. “But you’ll always come back to me.”

Morrigan nodded and pecked her lips just because she could. “I will always come back to you. I will not distance myself from you anymore. I swear it. Now… would you like to come rest with me?”

“Just like that?” Nessta smiled.

“I have a feeling I can just tell your sister and at least for tonight and the next few days we can delay facing the mess. Unless you would rather do it now? I will do whatever you want.”

“Let’s go rest, like you say.”

Morrigan let out a giggle which Nesta echoed. “I really do love you.”

“You know I do too.”

“I think you will enjoy Athelwood.”

“Athelwood?” 

“My home away from everyone else, where we can be alone.”

Nesta smiled devilishly, “I like the sound of that. I really like it."

"I am glad you do."

[queercontrarian]

I HAVE BEEN LONGING FOR YEARS FOR WHAT THE MOR X NESTA HEALING TOGETHER COULD HAVE BROUGHT US I truly feel robbed

right?? nesta and mor could have related to each other and helped each other heal from their parents' abuse. i just know that once they bonded they would have been ride or die for each other.

[itsswritten]

wings

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

Word Count: 3.1K

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

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

Wings Universe - More from this world.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 𓇢𓆸

Mor, Feyre and Nesta.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 𓇢𓆸

Cassian.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 𓇢𓆸

Rhys and Nyx.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 𓇢𓆸

Azriel.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s it my love, that’s it…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 𓇢𓆸

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A glow they were forever grateful for.

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

Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x

[utterlyotterlyx]

Sweet Creature

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - The bond snaps after a rather brutal breakup, and after witnessing you with another Vanserra, Azriel is trying to find a way to avoid being hurt once again.

Warnings - fluff, angst, pining, swearing, unrequited love, heartbreak, sad Az, happy ending (yay!)

Word count - 8.4k (oops)

Based on this ask

It had become so intense in the House of Wind that you had little to no choice in moving yourself to the River House. Between Nesta and Cassian's bustling sex life and the constant bickering arguments between Azriel and Elain, you decided that you needed some peace.

And fast.

Rhys had welcomed you at the door that day, his sort-of sister in arms surrounded by brown leather bags that he could almost envision you launching down the House of Wind steps just to escape as fast as possible. Flipping him off and smirking at his chuckle, you slipped around his form stood in the doorway and headed right to Nyx who was more than thrilled to see you, babbling incoherently and grabbing for you the moment you were in eyeshot.

"I take it that it's getting a bit loud over there?" Rhys turned to you, his shirt half unbuttoned and hands burrowed into his pockets. He was lucky. To have a mate and a child. To not have to live with the band of animals currently residing in the Night Court's most opulent residence.

"How am I supposed to get anything done wedged between that lot?" Nyx smiled at your cooing, lapping up all of your love and affection, "I'd much rather be here with my favourite prince."

Within minutes, your bags were taken upstairs by Rhys who was grumbling to himself about never being able to have any peace to which you blissfully quipped that you'd be out of his hair the moment he bought you a lavish apartment in the city. It wasn't as if he couldn't afford it after all.

Your position within the Inner Circle was irreplaceable. Not only were you Rhys' childhood best friend, the only one he could truly depend on before Cassian and Azriel flew into the picture, but you were also known as a witch. A powerful celestial being that had the capability to destroy and create as you saw fit with an affinity to sky and water magic.

The scales could have tilted in the wrong direction had you truly taken up Amarantha's offer to be her pet, the only reason you had confined yourself to that chamber Under The Mountain was to make sure that Rhys survived, and you played your part well, just as you always had.

A break was needed, the air in the House of Wind was almost suffocating, and no amount of your power was able to drown it. Elain was spending more time with Lucien, her mate, and Azriel was not happy about it considering that they were meant to be in a committed relationship. The barking insults and shouting had become too much to bare, so intense that your own power was itching for release in order to silence them for at least a couple of minutes.

"They're going to break up, aren't they?" Rhys certainly wouldn't be the first to tell Azriel I told you so, but he'd certainly be thinking it when the Shadowsinger would inevitably return to the River House just like you had to escape the nightmare of his life.

Humming softly, sadly, you looked up at Rhys, your godson in your arms resting his head on your chest, "I think so. Az hasn't been himself lately."

It was true, your friend had become a shell of himself, wallowing in self-loathing and doubt, and you cursed Elain eternally for turning him into such a thing. How anyone could hurt Azriel was beyond your scope of realisation, he was perfect in every way, devoted, kind, caring, and definitely a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom if your ears served you right.

Being attracted to Azriel was a natural bodily response, you had told yourself at least, it was difficult to not want to jump the bones of the illustrious Shadowsinger who kept a watchful eye on your every step. Like he was waiting for his moment to swoop in and save you.

But you had never needed saving, and you never would.

Elain and you had never really gotten along, it wasn't as though you hadn't tried to be friendly with the Made sister, she just couldn't stand to be around you. Maybe her own abilities clashed with yours, perhaps she was terrified of you. You couldn't blame her, the idea of you was one that stalked travellers and gifted nightmares to the young.

A celestial witch. In the flesh.

Anyone who knew you well enough would be able to dispel any wrongful intent, but Elain was not one of those people.

"I did warn him," Rhys' finger drifted to hook itself around Nyx's outstretched hand, and he shook it gently as he continued on, "A mating bond is not something to get entangled with."

"Az needs us to be his friends right now, Rhys. A breakup on its own is awful, but when it's so close, when he's been waiting so long for it, it's bound to hurt."

A firm hand on your shoulder comforted you, you knew how tough it must be for Azriel to go through it, after how painful it was to hold out hoping that he would be enough to suddenly not be, "I know, Witchling," you scoffed at the nickname as you always had and always would, Rhys pressed a dainty kiss into your hair, like a brother to a newly born sister, "Whatever he needs, I'm here, and so are you."

If you had known what awaited you that week, you'd take the telling words back in a second.

Like you had guessed, Azriel moved back into the River House, residing in his own room across the hall from your own. And boy, was he a raincloud if you ever did see one. Even his shadows looked solemn, and they didn't have faces. Azriel looked positively awful, constantly messy hair, large bags of onyx that imprinted onto the skin beneath his usually warm hazel eyes that had turned into nothing but dark pools of heartbroken sadness.

In the night, you had heard him crying, you'd stood outside of his door, not saying a word, but hoping that he knew that someone was there for him even if he didn't want them to be.

You had tried to talk to him, to coax him out of his haze by offering to train with him, or walk with him along the banks of the Sidra, you'd even asked him if beating your ass whilst you wore a mask of Lucien would bring a smile to his face. Unfortunately, everything you had tried had failed you, and you were at a loss as to help your friend.

"Honestly Rhys, how do you reach anything in here?" Rhys was hovering in the doorway, eyebrow raised with delight as he watched you try and scale the countertops to reach the top shelf of the cupboard.

There were chocolate chips for your cookies up there, and they had your name all over them.

"It's not my fault you're not Illyrian," his eyes darkened into a smirk, "Why don't you just hop onto your broomstick and fly?"

Even a silent Azriel emitted a gasp from his place on the opposite side of the centre island. If there was one thing you hated, it was being likened to the witches children sang about in their storybooks. It offended you how utterly unalike you were, and it made you seethe when someone, usually Rhys or Cassian, would use that hatred to rile you up.

"Oh," you stood on the countertop, towering over the High Lord by a few mere inches, "Is that why all of the doorways are so wide? Because your fat fucking head needs all the room it can get?"

Rhys stood speechless before you, the room fell silent.

Then a laugh.

Not yours of Rhys', you had to check it wasn't you making any noise before your eyes landed on the owner of the most joyful thing you'd heard in weeks.

A smile. Curled parted lips as a howling laugh ripped through them. Azriel's shadows danced to the sound, and his body shook with it. You could have cried, but you kept it together, you choked down your happiness to witness the momentary return of the one who meant the most to you.

It was no secret that you used to be Azriel's favourite. There was nothing that the two of you wouldn't do together, even if it was a medial task like taking you to the bakery or finding you a new Starfall dress that would make Mor dim in comparison. Azriel was always happy to come along. Until Elain, and then you had stopped seeing another, you'd drifted so far apart that he didn't even properly greet you anymore, all you were adorned with was a curt nod and tight lipped smile before Elain would whisk him away.

The male in front of you was nothing like that one, not in that singular glimmer of hope at least. Once his laughter died down, and a serene smile planted itself on his lips, Azriel opened his eyes and moved them to you, they glowed with something you couldn't quite understand, and then they widened. His eyes faltered. His smile faded.

Azriel gasped.

"Mate."

Darting your line of sight to Rhys, you pointed at him, flickering your gaze back to Azriel who had rose from his seat "Him?"

Rhys swatted your finger away, "I'm mated, y/n," Rhys glanced between you and took a step backward.

"So?" It couldn't be. Not right now. Not now.

"I can't do this," Azriel was struggling to breathe, his chest was rising and falling rapidly, sweat beaded at his brow and his skin had paled.

Scrambling down from the worktop, you went to take a step toward him, one that he mirrored in the opposing direction, furling his wings behind his back and clawing his shadows into submission, "Don't, Az. I can go."

The visible wince of pain that shot through you was enough for Azriel to suck in a breath and disappear from sight. The bond was dull, a golden thread soaring across the night sky to meet a shield of inked darkness. Azriel had closed you off. Shut you out.

Silence befell the kitchen, the chocolate chips you had gotten from the top shelf now scattered across the dark oak wood beneath your bare feet. Rhys had never seen you cry, he almost thought it impossible, but then he saw that single tear roll down your cheek, he could feel the pain radiating from you from finding your mate for him only to run from you.

"Hey, it's alright," he wrapped you into his arms, shushing you softly as he ran his fingers through your hair to soothe the quiet sobs rattling your shoulders, "It's going to be fine, y/n. Azriel's just confused, he'll be thrilled soon. Just you wait."

The snap had been gentle, like you had just come home after a long day, like you'd stepped through the door to see everyone you had ever loved all in one place and he was at the epicentre of it. Safe. Warm. Perfect.

Being a witch, you were never sure how life would look for you. Not even the cauldron understood your kind, you had always thought that perhaps the cauldron overlooked your species for the things most pure, like mating bonds and children. Witchlings were rare, you were the lone example of it, perhaps a part of you thought that you weren't allowed to have any love or joy, that you weren't good enough for it.

And there it was right in front of you, with the male a part of you had always yearned for, dancing in ash.

In the weeks that followed, Azriel did all he could to avoid you. No reason was good enough to make Azriel even glance in your direction let alone utter anything to you.

It had gotten to the point where you had asked Rhys for the keys to the cabin, you packed up your things and stepped through time to stand on that cold wooden floor with moonlight drifting through the small square windows.

You’d never thought that you could ever feel so alone, but as you stood there in a cabin so cold that you could see your own breath, the loneliness certainly began to set in.

There was little else to do other than light a fire to warm the little cabin on the outskirts of the city and run a bath; the tub was surrounded by candles, the ottoman at the foot of it was full of scented oils and salts which made your heart flutter. At least if you were to wallow in your own heartbreak you’d be able to do it smelling like the ocean surrounded by candlelight.

Bubbles crept up your neck as you sank into the wooden tub, it should have been a tranquil moment for you, but it was far from it in reality.

Az, please. Just talk to me. I'm still y/n, I'm still your friend. Things don't have to change.

Instead of enjoying the alone time like you should have considering that it was rare to have a minute of peace in a city full of needy children, you sat and let your mind wonder just how everything had gotten so messed up. You understood his confusion, really, you did, you understood how conflicting it must have been for him to separate with Elain, the female he was ready to spend the rest of his existence with, to then find out he was mated to you, not just you as his friend, but you as a witch.

Talk to me.

Too many tears had been spilled, you couldn't stop them from flowing from your eyes each time Azriel would fumble some excuse to get away from you. The bond was cold, it was like trying to break through a shield, an icy 10 foot deep floor that wouldn't even crack under whatever you would throw at it.

If you need me to leave then I will, Az. I'll leave for you, so you can have space, so you can think.

In the weeks that followed the revelation, you'd done all you could to try and get through to him, to let him know that you weren't expecting him to accept it, that he could take all the time he needed to process everything before speaking to you, all you needed was a sign that he was listening to you, that you mattered. It didn't surprise you that Azriel hadn't exactly thought about you in the predicament, of what it had done to you, and you couldn't even be angry at him over it because you'd be the same.

It didn't mean that it didn't hurt though.

Dark skies littered with blinking starlight was cast overhead, too beautiful to be real, too beautiful that you were sure that it was some kind of abstract painting on a black canvas. The cabin used to be one of your favourite places, Azriel and you used to escape there frequently, spending nights upon nights drinking Rhys' best wine and talking about everything and nothing.

A soft knock at the door pulled you from the memories, your eyes drifted to the clock softly ticking on the wall and you frowned, it was quite late. Lifting yourself from the tub, you wrapped a towel around your frame and padded over to the door, your wet footprints embedding themselves in the wood below. Slight disappointment sliced through you when you opened the door to see Mor, Nesta and Feyre on the deck shivering in the brisk breeze.

"We brought supplies," Nesta pushed past you, placing a wicker basket on the table and shrugging off her coat, "By supplies I mean wine, wine, and more wine."

Mor and Feyre entered, sniffing the air with soft smiles, they had always loved your scent, it was peaceful, like ocean waves lapping against the side of a mountain at dusk, airy, blissful, fresh.

The news had spread around the Inner Circle rather quickly thanks to Rhys, he had told Cassian, and well, Cassian wasn't exactly known for holding his tongue. The Lord of Bloodshed had apologised to you, feeling guilty for making things worse between you and Azriel, but you didn't mind. All you wanted was for the Shadowsinger to simply look at you. Anything else was a pointless worry. Not worth your time.

Tugging the towel tighter around your frame, you forced a smile, "This is really nice. Thank you."

Strangely, both Nesta and Feyre had been surprisingly supportive of the bond between you and Azriel. To them it made sense, you had been friends for over 500 years, you both struggled with fitting in, and you only felt truly comfortable to let your walls down around one another. To them, the bond had been there for a long time, waiting for the perfect moment. Too bad that the perfect moment had ended up making feel like the most worthless creature on the planet.

"Has he let you in yet?" Nesta rested her hand on your shoulder, her other hand was busy handing you a goblet of wine which you hugged closely to your chest and shook your head, "I'm sorry y/n. I really thought he would have by now."

"Give it time. He'll come around," Feyre draped her cloak over the arm of one of the dining chairs, smoothing out her skirt. It had always astounded you just how perfect they all were, the Archeron sisters that is, it was hard to understand how any male couldn't be attracted to them. They were quite heavenly.

"You've all been saying that for weeks," you shrugged off Nesta's hand, exasperated, "If anything he's become colder. Azriel doesn't acknowledge me, he looks right through me, he finds any reason possible to not be in the same room as me and when he sees me in the halls he turns on his heels and runs."

"I'm now living in this damned cabin hoping that some space will help him," your shoulders dropped, "I've waited my entire existence for this, I started to think that I wasn't worthy of it, and when it happened and the bond snaps with the one person I know that I could be truly happy with," your bottom lip wobbled slightly, but you choked it down and swallowed hard, "He ran."

Mor leaned forward in her seat, wide eyes under her perfectly sculpted furrowed brows, "It has nothing to do with you, y/n."

"How am I supposed to believe that when he won't even look at me?"

Something thick and fluffy draped over you, Nesta's robe that you always eyed was resting on your shoulders, "Go and get in your comfy clothes, then we can talk and bitch until all you feel is anger."

Amongst the chatter, you spied the three leather bags full to the brim of differing clothes and cosmetics, and then you realised that you weren't alone, not really, not when those three bags of clothes and trinkets belonged to the three females in the cabin with you, clearly ready to move in and stay with you until you were ready to face life again.

Who needed a man when you had three raging bitch queens?

Nesta was right, you just had to get back to work.

If anything was going to be able to distract you from that aching in your chest, then it would be work.

Luckily, Rhys, whilst he loved your abilities greatly, saw you as much more than just a celestial witch residing in his court, he likened you to a sister, blood family, which meant that he trusted no one more than you to act on his behalf when it came to court politics.

Holding such a position meant that you were rather close with the High Lords, they never saw you as Rhys' lackey at all, they saw you as a being that cared greatly about the continent who would stop at nothing to ensure harmony in all jurisdictions. Such a role meant that you were also required to entertain the High Lords whenever they visited Velaris, a place you had extended to them after the war to aid their research and better their own courts, with your help of course.

That particular evening, Rhys had asked you to entertain a certain High Lord of Autumn, Eris Vanserra; he was visiting Lucien and his new mate, Elain, and the entire visit was putting Azriel on edge. So, naturally, you couldn't say no.

"I always love our dinners, y/n," Eris' whisky amber gaze burned into you, searching the supernatural speckles in your own.

It was no secret that Eris had a flame for you, a being he found intriguing beyond belief, in the grasp of the Night Court when Eris knew how much you would thrive in Autumn by his side. The High Lord had offered Rhys pretty much everything he could to try and convince him to let him near you. All attempts had been swiftly denied.

Plates were littered with blotches of sauce and chicken bones, two empty bottles of red had been disposed of long ago, and you were just about to order that sticky toffee slice that made your toes curl when Eris asked, "When were you going to tell me about you and Azriel, hm?"

Candlelight drifted over the side of his face, illuminating his eyes against the darkening backdrop. "What are you talking about?"

Eris smirked, swirling the second glass of your third bottle that evening in perfect circles in his palm, "Come on, y/n. You reek of him, that cedar scent that even I have to admit is rather interesting."

In all of your self wallowing and sudden busyness you hadn't realised that the scent of the mating bond lingered on you, entwining with your scent of blissful oceans to create something new, something drowning. Something suffocating.

"I can admit that the news did hurt me, just a little bit," Eris, since the war, had allowed his hair to grow out. It sat just below his shoulders, layered and playful, he had it lazily pulled back low on his head. Something about that hair and those eyes made you question everything you knew, and you did know that you weren't the only one who felt like that when around the High Lord of Autumn.

Fluttering your lashes at Eris, you ran your fingers across the line of your bodice, "I apologise. It seems that fate wanted to lead me elsewhere."

Eris dismissed the waiter, eyes grinning at you through his lashes, "Let's go to Rita's. I need to drink some more, and you," he pointed to you, knowing that he was interrupting a rather important date with a rather important pudding, and said, "Need to loosen up, Witchling."

That fucking name.

You were sure that steam was emitting from your ears, but you couldn't deny that he was right, you couldn't really remember the last time you let loose and danced the night into oblivion. So you grabbed your purse from the table, a ornate gold cage that matched the intricate details of your skirt, and rose from your seat, "I hate how right you are, Vanserra. Let's go."

The High Lord towered over you, like all of them did really, stupid high fae and Illyrians and their stupid perfect genes making them so handsome and mysterious and utterly fuckable.

Stumbling from the restaurant at the edge of the Sidra, you looped your arm through Eris' and he practically had to pull you along the streets of the city or else you'd go and do a ritual in a field or something. Despite his crush, Eris found that part you a bit odd. In a way, you did too.

"When are you going to come to Autumn, Witchling? You know you'd love it there."

Eris propositioned you with the notion every time he saw you, he clearly thought that if he pestered you about it enough then you'd agree to it one day. Even just a fleeting visit would be enough to satisfy him. Just a day or two. You couldn't deny that Autumn piqued your interest, and with everything going on, perhaps a little break would do you some good.

"Maybe sooner than you think," despite the shameless flirting, you were glad that you could call Eris your friend, underneath that mask of loathing, you found the High Lord to be complex, and he appreciated your understanding. You were the only being that had ever approached him with kindness and treated him for who he truly was and not what he displayed. "All of this stuff with Azriel is spinning my mind. I feel like I'm going insane."

Eris hummed, tugging you a bit tighter into his side as he draped his arm over your shoulder, something completely platonic that you knew would send a certain someone spiralling, "That's what mating bonds do, y/n. I know that everyone keeps on telling you that he'll come around, I hope he does. Truly." It was the first time you had seen him say something and know that he was sincere of it "But, for tonight and tonight only, you are mine and we are going to drink and dance until we physically can't anymore, alright?"

Inhaling deeply, you met his gaze, "Alright."

Rita's was packed to the brim, you could feel the music thumping through the air so intensely that the ground beneath your feet was vibrating in time with the bass. Suddenly, you felt overdressed, but Eris commanded that you not think of it as he pulled you through the doors and past the guards who nodded at you with a curt smile as you clicked by.

In Velaris, you were quite known for being the wild one, the entire city was in awe of you and the powers you displayed so beautifully. More often than not, you would be found in the poorer parts of the city enchanting the children with your magic, curls of water would dance along their cheeks, and they would gasp when you would pluck a star from the sky and rest it in the palm of your hand. You knew what it felt like to feel alone and forgotten, being the last existing witch in your coven and all, and you didn't want anyone else to feel like that. So, if some water and a star would bring some form of happiness to those children, then you'd spend the rest of your life bringing them that wonder.

Eris tugged you through the grinding bodies, some of which parted as soon as they saw your eyes glistening in the lights, and stopped at the bar, shouting over the music to order drinks for you both before he turned, handing you a glass of what you could only assume was straight liquor, "To stealing you from the Night Court, Witchling," Eris raised his glass, rolling your eyes, you met it with a clink and wasted no time in downing the liquid, relishing in the burn that travelled down your throat and chest.

"Keep dreaming, Vanserra."

Hand on heart, Eris swayed into you, "Oh believe me, y/n, I do."

If you had known who was staring at you from across the room then you would have taken a step away from Eris, much like if you had seen the shadows followed you since you left the cabin that evening you wouldn't have agreed to go to Rita's. It was too late to do anything when your eyes connected with his, yours widened in surprise and solemn shock as his own narrowed, flickering between you and Eris before softening.

Of course, the first time Azriel actually looked at you was when you were stood beside Eris Vanserra, a High Lord, the brother of the one now laying with Elain.

Fuck.

It was like he didn't even see you really, he only saw Eris standing far too close to the one the cauldron had decided to be his mate. There was no way to be blind to the hatred between them, and with Azriel's temper and Eris' flare for the dramatics, you weren't surprised that Rhys had asked you to entertain the latter for the evening.

Noticing how your body froze, Eris frowned, he followed your line of sight to the Shadowsinger perched at a booth across the room ignoring both Cassian and Rhys who were trying to speak to him, to keep him calm.

Rhys. I didn't know.

I know, y/n. It'll be fine. We can handle Az if you can handle Eris.

Stiffly nodding, you turned to speak to Eris, to convince him to leave and find another place to drink, but he was gone. Then you saw his red hair moving through the crowd and you cursed, colourfully, and you scrambled through the crowd to try and reach him before he did something stupid.

Rushing up the steps to the usual booth reserved for the Inner Circle only, you stopped in your tracks as Eris' voice sliced through the chilled air, "When are you going to give our sweet y/n a break, Rhys? I keep on asking her to come to Autumn but she keeps on refusing."

Stop talking.

"It seems that she could use a break now more than ever."

Stop fucking talking.

"Especially since the bond is unrequited and she's sat in that little cabin day in day out wondering what her fate will be."

Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you tugged on him, harshly, like you were reprimanding a dog on a leash, "Stop talking."

Little did you know, that one touch alone was enough to make Azriel visibly flinch and shudder with pain. That one act pierced his heart deadlier than Elain ever had or could, the way your fingers rested just over Eris' pulse, the way you looked at him with flame in your eyes, it was too much.

Eris wouldn't hurt you, you were the closest thing he had to a true friend, bit his loosened lips would be the end of you, "You both know that this isn't fair on her. Why is she the one who has to sit in misery and move to the outskirts of this city in order to make your poor Azriel more comfortable?"

Tension bubbled, Rhys was slowly rising from his seat whilst Cassian angled himself in front of Azriel, probably to stop the Shadowsinger from doing something he would come to regret, "Eris, you're making it worse," he finally gave you his attention, "Just wait outside for me, we can find somewhere else to drink, okay?"

It took him a moment, but your pleading eyes convinced him to listen, and Eris moved from your side, disappearing from you and leaving you stood before three Illyrians, all of which you were sure didn't wish to be around you in that moment. Fiddling with your fingers, you looked up from the ground at them, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were going to be here. You told me to keep him entertained, I'm sorry."

Rhys froze, his breath caught in his throat, and Azriel was glaring at him with such intensity that it made even you shrink, and you didn't shrink away from anything or anyone, "I'll go. I'm sorry," your chest ached when Azriel didn't even glance in your direction, instead keeping his gaze trained on his High Lord who simply nodded once at you.

Then you left, you grasped Eris by the lobe of his ear and dragged him away from Rita's before Azriel could make him pay for his words, or even worse, Rhys. It took only a few blocks for Eris to swat your hand away, "I'm not a child, y/n." Eris rubbed the red tinged patch of skin at his ear with a pout.

Velaris watched on as you bundled down a cobbled path toward the bank of the Sidra, a place you went to often to channel your magic, it was serene and beautiful, and had been the perfect place for you to find your calm in the midst of such brutality, "That is my mate, Eris. Do you understand that? Azriel is going through so much already, he lost Elain to Lucien," Eris cocked his brow in warning but you continued, "Elain was meant to be the one for him, and as long as Az was happy then I could choke down everything I had ever felt for him because he deserved all of the happiness possible after everything he's been through. I could live alone for the rest of my days as long as he was happy. Then it turns out that he's mine, that he was always meant to be mine, it should have been the best day of our lives," tears pooled on your bottom lids and you were sick of it, of crying, you had never cried, it wasn't in your nature but it was all you could do these days.

"Azriel can't even look at me, I had to move out of the River House and isolate myself from everyone I love just to give him a moment to think and process everything," you turned to Eris, "You just had to prod him, didn't you? You just had to get under his skin. Do you know how this looks? Elain chose Lucien and then he sees me drinking with you?"

Eris ran a hand over his face and sighed, "I didn't mean to make things difficult, y/n. I just want what's best for you, what you deserve."

"I know and I appreciate that, I really do. I just wanted things to get better, not worse."

It astounded Eris how Azriel wasn't over to moon to have you as his mate, you were elegant and graceful, a formidable opponent, tactical and sharp, and one of the most beautiful creatures to ever walk under the skies of Prythian. Perhaps he could have been a touch more sensitive to the situation at hand.

The moonlight waltzed over the rippling waters of the Sidra which acted as a mirror to the sky above, clear and bright, full of possibility.

The bond strained in your soul, empty and unrequited, a lone dying ember searching for its flame, and you knew then that Azriel was going to pull away from you more than ever.

"You should go back to the House of Wind," your voice was small and weak, "I'll see you before you leave tomorrow."

Eris took a step toward you, fumbling, knowing that he had messed up, "Please, y/n."

"Eris," he paused his movements, "Just go. I'll see you tomorrow."

Knowing that nothing was going to change your stubborn mind, Eris retreated up the embankment and down the cobbled path, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

Pebbles brushed together under your weight, moving flat to accommodate your position. You hugged your knees to your chest, unclasping your heels and tossing them aside, rubbing the skin on your ankles softly to alleviate the pinching that was once there.

How long could you go like this? How long would be able to deal with the rejection before it broke you? How long until you took Eris up on his offer and left Velaris forever?

You didn't have much time to think of an answer, not when a familiar cool pressure coiled at the small of your back, travelling up your spine and over your shoulders. The shadows drifted through your hair and you smiled sadly at them, at the sweet sign to tell you that you weren't alone.

"How did you find me?"

A shuffle sounded from behind you, shoes scraping along the pebbles, "This is our place. Where else would you go?"

You turned then, peering over your shoulder at him, examining him for a moment. Azriel certainly looked better, his eyes had lightened by a couple of hues and his skin was healthy an tanned to perfection, though, sadness and doubt still lingered in his eyes.

Silently cursing yourself, you turned back to the water. It was yours and Azriel's place, it always had been, until Elain came along that is and then it became your place. Whenever either of you had a bad day, the other would bring them there, to listen to the water rushing up on the rocks and watch the stars, and you'd talk, about anything that was bothering you and causing you any pain, and then suddenly you'd be alright again.

You rose from the ground, brushing little fragments of twigs and dirt from the golden swirls of your skirt, and Azriel gazed at you as you did, wondering how his best friend had become a stranger so quickly, "If I had known you were there tonight I wouldn't have taken him."

"I know," Azriel had his hands bundled into his pockets, afraid that if they lingered at his side then he would reach for you and risk a whole other world of pain, "I think we need to break the bond."

The world stopped moving.

"What?"

Azriel repeated, "I think we need to break the bond."

Break the bond.

It writhed in your chest, it writhed in pain and sorrow, striking you so deeply that you thought you may stop breathing, "I can't do it again. I can't be broken like this again, not with another Vanserra, not with anyone."

Thumping in your chest, your heart cried out, lurching around in its cage, and you struggled to form any words, "Az-"

"It's what's best for us, y/n."

No. No, no, no.

"How can you say that?" Azriel frowned, his hazel orbs softening, like he too was in pain, "I have done everything I can to give you space to process this, I moved out of our home, twice, to give you space to process whatever you need to process and feel whatever it is that you need to feel. I have gone 500 years being perfectly content of being your friend and that alone, because that was better than not having you at all. I stood by and watched you pine for Mor, and then her, the one who put such a wedge between us that I was reduced to polite hellos and nods. But I dealt with it, for you and your happiness. I dealt with all of the comparisons and pain, I dealt with the punishment of your feelings for her. I would deal with every ounce of hatred you throw at me if it meant that you would feel better, hoping that one day you'd realise that I have always been here for you, that I have always loved you in ways that no one else ever could."

You were pacing up and down the riverbank, pebbles knocking together as you walked, and Azriel stood before you unmoving, unknowing of what to say and only knowing that he needed it to end, "You never even gave it a chance," your choked whisper put him on edge.

Azriel had never seen you cry, had never heard of it happening, clearly Rhys had negated to tell him just how deeply the last few weeks had impacted you. To the point where you had actually cried. Tears gathered at your bottom lids and he noticed how you looked up at the sky to prevent them from falling.

"You never let me in."

Everything within Azriel was screaming at him to reach for you, the bond that he had frozen in place behind a wall of shadow was battering against the shield like a ram to break free and comfort you.

You were right, you had been his best friend, one of the few he could ever really depend on for everything. Elain had never liked you, she had always blamed it on her abilities not being able to harmonise with your own, but Azriel had always known it was deeper than that. Elain was a seer, and somehow it hadn't dawned on Azriel just how much she could have been hiding.

Elain hated it when he spent time with you, and being as in love as he was, he believed that it was down to some strange jealously that lingered on the surface. No one would have blamed Elain for her jealousy, you were truly a sweet creature, the other half to his marred coin that he had so carelessly tossed away. What if Elain had seen something and had chosen to lead Azriel away from you in order to preserve what she wanted them to share?

"I've given you everything I can," you sounded utterly defeated, "I don't know what else to do, Azriel."

His name was like a sonnet on your lips, one of heart-breaking sadness and longing, and he stepped to it, his shadows swirled around his body and drifted out to you. They had always adored you. They had always sought after you, a stark difference to their hiding from Elain.

"I would ruin you, y/n. You deserve so much more, so much better than me," his fingers twitched for you, he was so close yet so far from holding you, from inhaling the coconut scent of your shampoo and the scent of your soul, of soft salted breezes and jasmine, "I never meant to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like you weren't worthy of love, and I'm so sorry for making you think that you were alone in the world," you had cocked your head to the side in question, "Rhys told me."

Azriel took another step forward, exhaling with relief when you didn't make a move to get away from him, "Love scares me. Elain had my heart in the palm of my hand and then crushed it, and then the bond snapped with you, with the one person I know would never hurt me, and I just couldn't risk it. I can't risk it. I can't risk being broken again, I can't risk hurting you."

All this time, when Azriel had been wallowing in the loss of Elain, of having to deal with her and Lucien's bond, he had completely neglected you, and your feelings. It was something you had never done to him, something you never could.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air, it carried your scent to him, and on inhaling it, he felt his entire body relax, he felt his aching disappear, and it was as though the world had gotten clearer. You turned away from him, hands folded over your chest and facing the river so that he couldn't see your tears, "I thought I was destined to be alone. The rules of your kind and the fae have never really applied to me, even the Cauldron doesn't understand me. I thought that it took the chance of love from me, but now I see that it was just some cruel joke."

Let her in. Feel her.

The shadows cooed to him, faintly, like a lullaby to a new-born babe.

"If it'll bring you peace," your voice broke, "Then break it. Break the bond. I'll find some other place to be."

Don't let her get away. Mate. She loves you. Love her. Let her in.

As though the world was tilting, Azriel let down that wall, he felt that bond slither over the seam of it to reach you, and then what he felt brought him to his knees.

Love. Wanting. Hope. Pain. Sorrow. Longing.

It consumed him with light, fighting off the demons that had been left to plague him, decimating them with the most pure substance in Prythian. Love.

When you heard his knees hit the ground you had turned and ran to where he knelt on the pebbles, meeting him as you slid onto your own, ignoring the stabbing into your skin, "Az? Are you alright? What's wrong?" You cupped his face in your hands and he felt each one of your fingertips flow life back into him.

The two tethers to the bond were dancing with one another, meeting in the middle and thrumming as two became one, turning dark skies into ones of bright sun and opulent warmth.

It was you. Sweet and fierce you. You who had always protected him, you who had always put him first even when he couldn't return it. You.

"Az? Talk to me, tell me what's happening. Do I need to call for Rhys? I'll get him right-"

Azriel stopped you before you could rise to your feet, the act of wrapping his fingers around your wrists enough to make your words vanish in your mouth, "You love me."

Settling into the space before him, knee to knee with him and his shadows itching to pull you closer, you didn't remove your hands from his, the feeling of it so powerful that it wiped all of your pain away, "I always have."

Walks along the Sidra. Visits to the bakery. The countless thoughtful gifts for Winter Solstice. The nights spent locked away in the cabin talking about dreams and fears.

Azriel's fingers drifted along your cheek before resting there, his thumb softly soothing the tightness in your jaw, "Why did you never say anything?"

"Because you deserve to be happy, even if it isn't with me," Azriel watched your bottom lip wobble, and that stream of love within him rippled with upset. His thumb moved to it, dragging across that plump flesh that he had always wondered of the taste.

Would you taste sweet or of lightly salted oceans? Of the air at dusk perhaps?

All he had ever chased was happiness, how foolish of him to be blind to the fact he had always had it within you.

"I think the only time I've ever truly been happy, at peace, has been with you. You've always felt like home," your eyes met and he offered you a small, genteel smile; his fingers moved to your hair, raking over your scalp and floating to rest on the small of your back, "I've missed you so much."

"You have?"

Azriel hummed in admittance, "The worst part of all of this was that I left the House of Wind to be near you, because I could be, nothing was in the way of us anymore, and I knew you'd be the only one patient enough to deal with me. It was selfish, but you've always been the rocks on which the ocean crashes, you've always been the one I can turn to without fear of judgement. You understand me."

"I can still be that person, Az. I can still be your friend."

Resting his forehead against yours, Azriel spoke lowly, like he had just awoken from slumber, "Do you know how hard it is for me to not take you back to that cabin right now and make you mine?" The carnal desire was dwelling within him, a rabid need that begged to be satisfied, "But you deserve better, y/n. Better than what I've done. So if you'll let me, I want to do this properly. I want to court you and make you feel like you're the only woman in the world, and when you're ready, not me, you, then you can accept it for the both of us. Because you deserve the magic of the bond more than me, you deserve this happiness."

"And if you don't want to, then that's fine. I can live with what I've done, and if you want to move to Autumn and find happiness there then I won't stand in your way. In no world would I ever stop you from finding love and passion and joy, because you deserve it y/n, you are everything that is beautiful in this world and then some. Every single part of you is destined for greatness, for a love so powerful that people drown in it."

"I hate what I've done to you, I hate that I've made you feel unworthy of a mating bond and I'll never forgive myself for it. But if you let me, I'd like to show you that I want this, that I want you, and you can decide for yourself if a life with me is something you want."

Silence fell between you but you didn't make a move to pull away, you knelt in place, peering up at him with your hands resting on his biceps, channelling the pulsing energy of the Sidra as it ebbed and flowed downstream, "A life with you is all I've ever wanted."

The bond glowed, golden and blinding, and Azriel was struggling to keep himself together as he basked in the ocean of your love and devotion, "Can I kiss you? Please?"

If he wasn't searching for it then he wouldn't have even noticed the tiniest hazed nod directed at him. Even the stars had stopped their flickering to focus on you, their most prized possession, the only one capable of harnessing their power and turning it into something blissful and good. It was why they chose you.

Closing the gap, Azriel tilted your head upward to give him better access to the lips that had often haunted his dreams; the scent of jasmine entwined with his own and he felt himself hold his breath as he closed that gap between you.

Your lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined them to be, they tasted of fresh saltwater and some kind of sweet fruit from the gloss you always wore that made them shimmer in any light. It stopped the world from turning for a moment, the universe watched on as Azriel sealed your fates. Moving his fingers from the small of your back to your neck and deepening the embrace of your lips, Azriel relished in the taste of you, in your warmth, in the way his soul sang and his shadows pulled you in closer to him. It was a feeling he had waited his entire existence for, one you had also yearned for.

Utterly magical. Soul consuming.

Everything made sense then. How everything you had both endured was meant to be, just so that you could end up entwined in that moment. All of the pain and sorrow, all of the false love and distance, all of the laughter and sweet memories, it was all worth it. It was worth every morsel of agony.

"Such a sweet creature. My sweet creature."

"Yours?" Azriel hummed, pressing dainty kisses to the tip of your nose and cheeks, and you closed your eyes to consume his touch and shuddered when his lips landed on your collarbone, caressing the skin there, "I think I could get used to that."

Authors Note

Hey besties!

I got very carried away with this - sorry if it's not great, these pain meds are really kicking my ass right now so I haven't even properly proof read this yet xo

Taglist

@crazylokonugget @fxckmiup @rogersbarnesxx @emryb

[thehighladywrites]

— “You were flirting with me?”

pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.”

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

“Yeah?”

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

“How have you been?”

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

“Uh, I’ve been good, you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elain giggled and nodded in agreement.

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

Azriel feigned ignorance. “Who?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

His presence was undeniable.

Azriel was here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You look absolutely breathtaking."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"May I-"

"Yes."

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fr0stf4ll]

A proper girls’ night

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; You and Azriel have been mates for some time now, and between managing the males, training, missions, raising a child, and fulfilling duties as High Lady, you haven’t had the chance to enjoy a proper girls' night with your closest friends. But tonight is supposed to be all about you and the girls—or is it? ;)

word count ; 7.2k

warning; SMUT ;p, alcohol, drunk sex

notes; Yoo everyone, here I am again for a one shot. I'm not the best for smut so I hope that you will enjoy it. I got the idea of this story after a small party with some of my best friends so I hope that you will like it ! With love <3333

---

I was lounging on my plush couch, admiring the final touches I’d added to make this apartment truly feel like home. The floor-to-ceiling windows offered a breathtaking view of the Sidra, and soft, warm lights created a comforting ambiance. This place was everything I’d hoped for—a fresh start, a new chapter.

I had just finished arranging the last decorative pillow when a knock echoed through the apartment. I grinned, already knowing who it was.

“Come in!” I called out.

The door swung open to reveal Feyre, Nesta, and Mor. Feyre carried not just one, but two bottles of wine, Nesta had a stack of board games tucked under her arm, and Mor, of course, arrived with an enormous grin and—was that three bottles of spirits?

“Are we throwing a party, or did I miss something?” I laughed, taking in the sheer amount of alcohol they had brought with them.

Mor dropped the bottles on the counter with a flourish. “What? It’s not every day we christen a new apartment, Y/N! We needed to make sure we had enough… well, more than enough.”

Nesta smirked, adding, “You know how things go with us. We start with wine, then move on to something stronger. And just in case, I thought we’d better bring a little extra.”

“A little extra?” I echoed, raising an eyebrow as I counted the bottles. “This looks like enough to keep us going for a week.”

Feyre chuckled, setting the wine down. “Consider it insurance. We’re not leaving until we’ve had a proper girls’ night.”

Mor waved a hand dismissively. “No boys, no responsibilities, and a whole lot of alcohol. That’s what tonight is about. We’re here to have fun, relax, and forget about everything else.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I started pulling out glasses. “Well, if that’s the case, then let’s get started.”

The girls settled in, each finding a spot on the couch or one of the oversized chairs. Mor was already opening one of the wine bottles, filling up our glasses generously.

“We’ve spent too many nights at Rita’s,” Nesta said, her tone teasing but sincere. “It’s nice to just relax here for a change.”

Feyre nodded in agreement, raising her glass. “Especially with the company. I could get used to this.”

Mor clinked her glass against Feyre’s. “Here’s to our host, for letting us invade her beautiful new home. And for not skimping on the drinks.”

“I didn’t realize I had a choice,” I teased, holding up my glass before taking a sip. The wine was rich and full-bodied, the perfect start to what promised to be a wild night.

“Tonight is all about us,” Mor declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she leaned back in her seat. “No boys, no distractions, just us girls and more alcohol than we know what to do with.”

“Agreed,” Nesta said, holding up one of the board games. “Let’s start with something easy. Then we can see where the night takes us.”

The night was still young, and the four of us had already settled comfortably into my new apartment. The alcohol was flowing freely—perhaps a bit too freely—and the conversation had naturally turned to gossip. It was inevitable when we got together, especially after a few glasses of wine.

We were sprawled out on the couch and chairs, each of us with a drink in hand. The warmth from the alcohol had already loosened our tongues, and the atmosphere was buzzing with the excitement of shared secrets.

Mor, never one to hold back, was the first to dive in. “Alright, ladies, I’ve got some tea. And I’m not talking about that herbal nonsense.” She leaned in, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Did you hear about the sparring match Cassian had the other day with Devlon?”

That got everyone’s attention. “No,” Nesta said, her eyes narrowing. “What happened?”

Mor grinned, clearly enjoying the anticipation. “So, apparently, Devlon thought it would be a good idea to challenge Cassian in front of all the Illyrians—like, really make a show of it. Cassian, being Cassian, accepted, but he didn’t just beat him. He absolutely humiliated him. We’re talking flat on his back, wings pinned, can’t even move. And to top it all off, Cassian just stood up, dusted himself off, and said, ‘Next time, try harder.’”

Nesta snorted, trying to hide her amusement. “Serves him right. Devlon’s been asking for it.”

Feyre nodded, her eyes wide with delight. “I wish I could have seen that.”

“Oh, but it gets better,” Mor continued, her grin widening. “Devlon’s been walking around the camp like a wounded animal ever since. The other Illyrians are having a field day with it. They’ve even started calling him ‘the Fallen Commander’ behind his back.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Cassian really knows how to make an impression.”

“Not as much of an impression as Rhys made when he was caught singing in the bath the other day,” Mor added, her tone dripping with amusement.

Feyre blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mor said, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “I happened to be passing by when I heard it. He was belting out some old Prythian ballad—badly, might I add—and I swear, for a second, I thought a cat was dying.”

Nesta burst out laughing. “Please tell me you have some sort of recording.”

“I wish!” Mor exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “But trust me, the image is seared into my memory forever. The High Lord of the Night Court, all serious and stoic by day, and an absolute disaster in the bathroom.”

Feyre groaned, but there was a hint of a smile on her lips. “I’m never letting him live that down.”

“And then there’s Azriel,” Mor said, shifting her attention to me with a wicked grin. “I’m surprised he hasn’t broken anything with those late-night visits to your place.”

I blushed instantly, caught off guard. “What? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Mor teased, her eyes glinting with amusement. “We all know that shadowy lover of yours can’t keep his hands off you. I mean, with the way you’ve been glowing lately, it’s not hard to figure out why.”

“Azriel doesn’t talk much,” Nesta added, smirking, “but I bet he more than makes up for it in other areas.”

Feyre was giggling, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Spill, Y/N! We need to know—does he really keep the shadows around, or does he prefer a more hands-on approach?”

My face was burning by now, but the alcohol had loosened my tongue enough that I couldn’t help but join in. “Let’s just say, the shadows aren’t the only thing that’s always… active.”

That sent Mor into peals of laughter, nearly spilling her drink as she doubled over. “Oh, I knew it! Azriel’s got that dark, broody exterior, but underneath… he’s a beast, isn’t he?”

I could only laugh in response, covering my face with my hands. “I’m not saying anything else!”

“Come on,” Nesta urged, leaning in. “We won’t tell a soul. Just a little more.”

I peeked out from behind my hands, giving them a sly grin. “Let’s just say, he’s very… thorough.”

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Mor cheered, holding her glass up for a toast. “To thorough lovers and late-night visits that leave you glowing!”

We all clinked our glasses together, the laughter bubbling up again. The night was filled with stories that grew more outrageous with each passing drink. Feyre even confessed to sneaking up on Rhys one morning with a bucket of cold water, just to get back at him for something he’d done weeks earlier.

“I’ll never forget the look on his face,” she giggled, eyes bright with mischief. “He didn’t speak to me for half the day—until he figured out how to get me back.”

“Did he manage to one-up you?” I asked, curious.

“Oh, he tried,” Feyre replied, a smirk playing on her lips. “But he should have known better than to start a prank war with me. I’m still two steps ahead.”

“You two are impossible,” Mor said, shaking her head but unable to hide her amusement. “But what about Cassian? Does he know about all of this?”

“Cassian,” Nesta said, still grinning, “is too busy preening in front of the mirror these days. He’s been obsessed with perfecting his ‘battle-ready’ look. You wouldn’t believe how much time he spends adjusting his armor to make sure it’s just the right amount of ‘ruggedly handsome.’”

Feyre rolled her eyes, but there was a fondness in her voice. “Typical. He’s worse than a peacock.”

“Speaking of peacocks,” Mor added, leaning in again, “I heard that Tarquin’s been parading around the Summer Court with his shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest. Apparently, he thinks it makes him look ‘mysterious and approachable.’”

Feyre snorted. “More like ridiculous.”

As the conversation began to wind down, Mor suddenly jumped to her feet, a wild look in her eyes. “Alright, ladies,” she declared, “enough sitting around. It’s time to take this party up a notch.”

The night had taken a turn, a wild, exhilarating turn. What started as a simple girls' night had quickly evolved into something far more chaotic and, quite frankly, downright ridiculous. The ridiculous part might have had something to do with the copious amounts of alcohol, but that was beside the point.

It all began after the third bottle of wine was emptied, and Mor, in her infinite wisdom, declared that the night was far too young to end with just drinking and talking. The suggestion to turn the apartment into our very own private club was made, and, well, it didn’t take much convincing.

I don’t know where Mor had pulled it from—whether it was some hidden magic or just her unrelenting spirit—but somehow, my apartment transformed. Soft lights gave way to pulsating club lights, shifting in colors that matched the beat of the music that now blasted through the room. The furniture was pushed aside, making space for what had effectively become a dance floor.

“I didn’t even know you had this in you,” Feyre shouted over the music, her eyes wide with delight as she took in the scene.

“Neither did I!” I shouted back, laughing as I twirled around in the flashing lights. The wine had long since turned my limbs to jelly, and I felt lighter, freer than I had in a long time.

Nesta, who had been initially reluctant, was now completely immersed, her usually stoic expression replaced with a flushed grin as she sipped from yet another drink. “I’m not even sure what’s happening anymore,” she admitted, before bursting into laughter at the absurdity of it all.

Mor, of course, was in her element. She had Feyre by the hand, pulling her onto the makeshift dance floor. “Come on, Feyre! Show us those moves!”

Feyre, not one to back down from a challenge, joined in with gusto, the two of them dancing wildly, their laughter filling the room. It was infectious, and soon, we were all moving to the beat, lost in the moment.

The alcohol flowed freely, and it wasn’t long before we were all well beyond tipsy. Nesta, usually the most reserved of us, was now draped over the couch, clutching her drink and singing along to the music—though the words were more slurred than sung. Mor had taken it upon herself to DJ, switching between tracks with the enthusiasm of someone who was enjoying every second of the chaos she had created.

As for me, I was somewhere in the middle of it all, dancing with Feyre and Mor one minute, then flopping down next to Nesta the next, my head spinning in the best possible way.

“This was the best idea ever,” I declared, holding up my drink in a toast to… well, everything. The lights, the music, the ridiculousness of it all.

“I told you!” Mor shot back, barely managing to avoid spilling her drink as she twirled around. “This is what girls’ night is all about!”

Feyre, who had given up on dancing in favor of lounging on the couch with Nesta, nodded vigorously. “We should do this every week.”

“Yes!” Nesta agreed, raising her glass—though she missed her mouth when she tried to take a sip, spilling a bit of her drink on herself. She didn’t seem to mind, though. “Every week!”

We all dissolved into laughter, the kind that made your stomach ache and tears stream down your face. It was a night of pure, unfiltered joy, the kind of night that reminded me just how lucky I was to have these incredible women in my life.

At some point—who knows when—the music was turned up even louder, and we all found ourselves back on the dance floor, moving in a way that was far more about having fun than it was about looking good. Not that any of us cared. This was our night, and we were going to make the most of it.

As the night wore on and the drinks continued to flow, the line between reality and whatever madness we had created blurred even further. The lights, the music, the alcohol—it all mixed together in a haze of color and sound, until it felt like we were in another world entirely, a world where nothing mattered but the here and now.

At some point, Mor pulled out a bottle of something stronger—something that definitely wasn’t wine—and poured shots for everyone. We downed them without hesitation, the burn in our throats a reminder that we were alive, that we were here, that this night would be one we’d never forget.

And it was. By the time we finally collapsed in a heap on the floor, the world spinning around us, I knew that this was a night I’d look back on and smile. We were drunk, we were ridiculous, and it was perfect.

As we lay there, catching our breath and trying to stop the room from spinning, Feyre turned to me, her eyes heavy with exhaustion and alcohol. “You know,” she said, her voice soft, “this was exactly what we needed.”

I smiled, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “Yeah,” I agreed, my voice barely a whisper. “Me too.”

Tonight was one for the books.

The night had taken a wild, exhilarating turn. What started as a simple girls' night had quickly evolved into something far more chaotic and, quite frankly, downright ridiculous. The alcohol was flowing freely, and the atmosphere was buzzing with energy as the room transformed into our very own private club.

But just when I thought the night couldn’t get any crazier, Mor clapped her hands together, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Alright, ladies, let’s up the stakes. Who’s up for a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’?”

Feyre groaned, though her eyes were gleaming with mischief. “Oh gods, this is going to get dangerous.”

“Exactly,” Mor said, grabbing a fresh bottle of something strong and pouring shots for everyone. “We’re already half-gone, so let’s see who can survive this round.”

Nesta eyed the shot glass suspiciously but took it anyway. “Fine, but let’s keep it reasonable.”

“Reasonable?” Mor scoffed, raising an eyebrow. “Where’s the fun in that?”

With everyone armed with a shot glass, we settled onto the floor, forming a loose circle. Mor, as the instigator, went first. She smirked, lifting her glass. “Never have I ever… kissed someone with the intention of getting free drinks.”

Feyre immediately took a sip, as did Mor, who winked at me. “What can I say? Sometimes, charm gets you a long way.”

"When the person buying your drinks is Rhysand, it doesn't count Feyre" I said laughing at her.

Nesta, surprisingly, didn’t drink, but she gave a small smile. “I prefer to pay my own way, thank you very much.”

Next, it was Feyre’s turn. She narrowed her eyes in mock concentration before grinning. “Never have I ever… gotten out of trouble by flirting.”

Mor and I immediately took our shots, causing Feyre to raise an eyebrow. “Come on, you two, spill.”

Mor grinned, clearly eager to share. “Alright, so there was this one time in the Summer Court… I was supposed to be at a formal dinner, but I got a little sidetracked with a rather charming advisor. We were caught by one of the palace guards, and let’s just say, I had to turn on the charm full blast to avoid a very awkward conversation with Tarquin.”

Feyre shook her head, laughing. “Only you, Mor.”

I couldn’t help but join in. “For me, it was during a mission. I needed to get past a rather stubborn gatekeeper who wasn’t interested in letting me through. A little flirting and a lot of batting my eyelashes later, and suddenly I was the most important person on his list. I got what I needed, and he never even knew what hit him.”

Nesta looked at me with a smirk. “I’m surprised Az didn’t handle that for you.”

“Oh, he would’ve,” I admitted with a laugh. “But sometimes, a girl’s got to do things her own way.”

Feyre shook her head, still smiling. “Rhys would’ve been so jealous.”

“Please,” Mor scoffed, “Rhys would have encouraged it.”

Nesta chuckled, lifting her glass. “Alright, next one. Never have I ever… sent a dirty thought to your partner to see their reaction.”

Feyre and Nesta immediately took their shots, while Mor and I exchanged surprised looks, our glasses untouched.

Feyre’s cheeks flushed as she laughed. “I did it to Rhys once during a meeting—he nearly choked on his drink. I thought I was being subtle, but apparently, his reaction was… noticeable. I think I almost caused a diplomatic incident.”

Mor burst out laughing, her eyes wide. “Oh, I would’ve paid to see that.”

Nesta, surprisingly, offered her own story, her voice more subdued but with a hint of amusement. “I sent Cassian a… vivid thought while he was training the Illyrians. He dropped his sword mid-swing and nearly took out an entire row of recruits. They didn’t know what happened, but Cassian spent the rest of the day giving me death glares.”

The room erupted into laughter, the image of Cassian flustered and distracted by Nesta’s thoughts too much to handle.

“Well, I’ve never done it,” I said, still giggling. “But now I’m tempted. I wonder how a certain shadow singer would react.”

“Knowing you, Y/N” Feyre said with a grin, “he would probably drop everything he is doing to go join you.”

“Oh, definitely” I agreed, taking a sip of my drink anyway. “But let’s keep going, shall we?”

The game continued, the questions growing bolder, the shots more frequent, and the laughter louder. By the time we were on the tenth or eleventh round, there was no turning back.

“Alright, my turn,” Nesta said, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Never have I ever… had someone walk in on me during sex.”

Mor and Feyre both took a sip, while I hesitated before taking mine. “Let’s just say, it was awkward,” I said with a cringe, though I couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

Mor, however, was not about to let it go. “Oh, no, no. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not give us details. Who walked in?”

I smirked, taking another sip of my drink for courage. “Rhys. And let’s just say, I’ve never seen him retreat from a room so fast.”

That sent Mor into peals of laughter, nearly spilling her drink as she doubled over. “Oh, I can just picture it! Poor Rhys, walking in on you two… I bet Az didn’t even bat an eyelash.”

Nesta snickered, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “And I’m sure Azriel was just as composed as ever, right? Or did he actually look guilty for once?”

I rolled my eyes, unable to keep the grin off my face. “Let’s just say, Azriel wasn’t too happy about the interruption. But once Rhys was out of the room… he made sure to make up for lost time.”

Feyre choked on her drink, laughing as she wiped her mouth. “I bet he did! Azriel’s got that silent intensity… but I’m sure he can be anything but quiet when he wants to be.”

“He’s very… intense, in more ways than one.”

Mor grinned wickedly, holding her glass up for a toast. “To very intense lovers who know how to get the job done—and then some!”

The night had taken on a life of its own, with the alcohol flowing and inhibitions flying out the window. We were deep into the game of "Never Have I Ever," and it seemed like nothing was off-limits at this point.

Feyre, clearly feeling the effects of the drinks, leaned forward with a mischievous grin. “Alright, ladies, last one from me. Never have I ever… tried the ‘Moonlit Arch’ position.”

There was a pause as the question hung in the air. Mor immediately downed her shot, as did Feyre. Nesta hesitated, then took hers as well. Meanwhile, I just sat there, my glass untouched, staring at them with a raised eyebrow.

“Wait… what?” I asked, feeling completely out of the loop. “What’s the ‘Moonlit Arch’? Are you sure you didn’t made that up ?”

Feyre’s grin widened as she set down her glass. “Oh, sweetie, you’ve been missing out. How do I explain this?”

Before I could protest, Feyre had jumped up from her spot, a bit unsteady but determined. She sauntered over to me, her eyes gleaming with tipsy mischief. “It’s easier to show than tell.”

The next thing you knew, Feyre was pushing me back onto the ground, her hands on your shoulders. “Relax, this is educational,” she teased, as she gently pushed me down and straddled my lap.

“Feyre, what are you—” You began, but was cut off as she leaned down, bringing her lips close to your ear.

“It’s all about the angle,” Feyre whispered, her breath warm against your ear. “You lie back, just like this…”

She gently guided me into position, her hands on my shoulders as she demonstrated. Before you knew it, Nesta was there too, her eyes gleaming with the same mischief as she grabbed Feyre’s hands and placed them on either side of your face.

“It’s all about guiding the energy,” Nesta murmured, her voice low and sultry. “Make sure your partner knows exactly where to focus.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though it was tinged with nervousness and the absurdity of the situation. “You’re both insane.”

“Insanely helpful,” Mor chimed in, a grin spreading across her face as she sauntered over. She took Feyre’s hands and moved them down to my chest, giving a light squeeze. “And don’t forget about the importance of… other areas.”

“Mor!” You gasped, my face burning as you tried to squirm away, but the alcohol had made me sluggish, and the three of them had me pinned in place.

“It’s all in good fun,” Feyre said with a laugh, her eyes twinkling as she gently patted my cheek. “Now, the trick is to—”

—

It was nearly dawn, and the soft light of morning was beginning to creep through the windows of the townhouse. One by one, the guys emerged from their rooms, each of them groggy and slightly disoriented, but with a nagging feeling in the back of their minds.

Rhysand was the first to step into the hallway, his brow furrowed in concern. “Is it just me, or is something off?” he muttered to himself.

Cassian’s door creaked open next, and he stuck his head out, his hair a wild mess. “Where the hell are they?”

Azriel appeared a moment later, his eyes shadowed with worry. “They’re not answering,” he said quietly, though his voice was tinged with concern.

The three of them exchanged glances, the same thought running through their minds: their mates weren’t back yet, and none of them had responded to the bond.

Cassian scratched his head, still half-asleep. “You think they’re okay? Maybe they… got distracted?”

“Distracted?” Rhys repeated, raising an eyebrow. “By what, exactly?”

Azriel sighed, trying to remain calm. “It’s just a girls’ night. They’re probably just… having fun.”

Cassian leaned against the wall, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, but still… it’s nearly morning. Shouldn’t they be back by now?”

Rhys glanced toward the window, watching as the sky began to lighten. “They should be. I can’t get through to Feyre.”

“Same with Nesta,” Cassian added, his worry finally starting to show.

Azriel’s expression darkened slightly as he nodded. “And Y/N’s just giving off this… contented feeling. But nothing else.”

The three males stood in silence for a moment, the unease growing between them. Finally, Cassian huffed and pushed off the wall. “Alright, that’s it. We’re going to check on them.”

Azriel hesitated, glancing between the other two. “You’re all overreacting. They’re perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.”

“Sure they are,” Cassian agreed, a glint of concern in his eyes. “But aren’t you just a little curious about what they’re up to?”

Azriel hesitated, glancing out the window at the faint light of dawn creeping over the horizon. “Maybe… a little.”

Rhys grinned, clapping Azriel on the back. “Then let’s go. If nothing else, we can make sure they get home safe.”

The three of them headed out, taking to the skies with ease. It wasn’t long before they spotted your apartment building, and as they landed on the rooftop across the street, they were greeted with an unexpected sight.

Bright, colorful lights were flashing from your windows, pulsing in time with the faint thrum of music that could be heard even from outside. It looked more like a nightclub than a place where anyone would be getting a decent night’s sleep.

Cassian stared at the windows, his mouth slightly agape. “What the hell…?”

Rhys raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “I didn’t know Y/N had a nightclub setup in her apartment.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed as he took in the scene. “She doesn’t. Or at least, she didn’t.”

Cassian shook his head, his concern deepening. “Come on, just a peek. I’ve got to see what kind of chaos they’ve created.”

They descended to your apartment door, and as they approached, the music grew louder, the flashing lights spilling out from under the doorframe, casting strange, colorful shadows in the hallway.

Rhys knocked, but there was no response. He knocked again, louder this time, but the only sound was the thumping music and muffled voices from inside.

Cassian glanced at the others, a serious expression on his face. “You sure they’re alive in there?”

The three of them exchanged worried looks, and before anyone could suggest otherwise, Cassian stepped forward, bracing his shoulder against the door. “Alright, let’s find out.”

With a firm push, they forced the door open—and were immediately greeted by the sight of complete and utter chaos.

The apartment was a mess, with bottles and snacks strewn everywhere. But what caught their attention was the scene in the living room: Mor and Nesta were on the floor, laughing uncontrollably, while Feyre was perched on top of you on the ground, pinning you down and demonstrating something with far too much enthusiasm.

Mor had one hand on your chest, playfully squeezing your breast, while Nesta’s hands were on either side of your face, her touch light but clearly part of the explanation Feyre was giving.

The moment the door flew open, all four of you turned your heads in perfect synchronization, staring at the doorway with wide, startled eyes.

The guys froze in the entrance, their faces a mix of shock and utter confusion. It was as if they had just walked into another world, one they couldn’t quite make sense of.

Feyre, still on top of you, blinked in surprise, her hands frozen in place. Mor and Nesta, still in their positions, were too drunk to even try to move, their eyes fixed on the three males standing in the doorway.

For a long moment, there was complete silence, the only sound the faint thrum of the music and the distant hum of the lights.

“What the hell…?” Cassian finally managed to mutter, his voice laced with disbelief.

Rhys, his usually calm demeanor shattered, shook his head slowly. “I think we interrupted something… very strange.”

Azriel, for his part, could only stare, his mind trying to process the chaotic scene in front of him. “Should we… come back later?”

The sudden absurdity of the situation hit you all at once, and you burst into laughter, the alcohol-fueled hysteria too strong to resist. Feyre, still on top of you, collapsed onto your chest, shaking with laughter, while Mor and Nesta lost it completely, both of them rolling on the floor as they tried to catch their breath.

The guys, however, remained rooted in place, their expressions still a mix of shock and confusion as they watched the four of you dissolve into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

Cassian was the first to recover, though his voice was still laced with disbelief. “What in the world is going on here?”

Feyre, still laughing, finally managed to roll off you, her face flushed as she wiped at her eyes. “I guess we got a little carried away.”

“A little?” Rhys echoed, his voice flat as he glanced around the room. “This place looks like a warzone.”

Mor, still struggling to sit up, waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, please. We were just having fun!”

Azriel, who had finally managed to close his mouth, walked over to you, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. “Let’s get you home.”

You looked up at him, your smile turning into a confused frown. “But this is my home, Az.”

Feyre, catching your words, let out a snort before dissolving into another fit of laughter. Before long, you were both on the floor, laughing so hard that you could barely breathe, the absurdity of the entire situation hitting you all at once.

Mor, still perched on the floor, threw her head back and screamed with laughter. “This was better than every night at Rita’s I’ve ever had in my life!”

Nesta, who was trying her best to stay composed, finally gave in, collapsing onto the floor beside Mor as the two of them giggled uncontrollably.

The guys, still standing in the doorway, could only watch as the four of you descended into a drunken, giggling mess, their shock slowly giving way to resignation.

Rhys sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Cassian, finally managing a grin, shook his head. “We’re going to have to carry them out of here, aren’t we?”

Azriel, who had gently lifted you to your feet again, just nodded, his concern still evident. “Probably. But at least they had fun.”

---

The chaos of the night had finally started to wind down. Mor and Nesta, still giggling, were being helped out by Rhys and Cassian, who looked more than ready to get everyone home and into bed. But you, still tipsy and more than a little giggly, had managed to cling onto Azriel.

He lifted you effortlessly into his arms, your face nestled against his neck, legs wrapped tightly around his torso. The cool night air hit your skin as he carried you out of the apartment, but you barely noticed, too focused on the warmth of his body and the comforting scent of him surrounding you.

Azriel walked steadily, his wings twitching slightly with every step. You could feel the muscles in his back flex as he held you close, his grip firm yet gentle. Despite how drunk you were, a playful smile tugged at your lips as your breath fanned across his neck.

“You know,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing, “you’re really strong… and warm. Like, really warm.”

Azriel’s chuckle rumbled through his chest, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. “Good to know,” he replied, his voice taking on a huskier edge. “Are you comfortable?”

You nodded, snuggling closer to him, your breath warm against his neck. “Mmhmm. This is nice. I could stay like this forever.”

He smiled, adjusting his hold on you slightly as he continued walking. “I wouldn’t mind that either. But we should get you home. You had quite the night.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you rested your head against him. “Yeah… tonight was fun. I think we broke the apartment, though. Sorry about that.”

Azriel shook his head, his smile growing. “Don’t worry about it. It’s your place—you can do whatever you want. And it’s nothing a little cleaning won’t fix.”

There was a brief pause before you giggled, the sound light and airy. “Do you think… do you think Rhys was mad? I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

Azriel’s lips brushed against your temple in a soft kiss. “No, I don’t think he was mad. Maybe a little surprised, but that’s all. He knows you were just having fun.”

You hummed in response, your fingers idly tracing patterns on the back of his neck. “Good. I wouldn’t want to get in trouble… But you know what’s funny?”

“What’s that?” he asked, his tone indulgent as he continued walking.

“I kept thinking,” you whispered, your voice a little more serious now, “that I was so happy tonight… because you weren’t just my mate, but also my best friend.”

Azriel’s heart swelled at your words, and he tightened his grip on you slightly. “I’m happy to hear that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re my best friend too, you know. I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You smiled against his neck, feeling a wave of affection wash over you. “You’re so sweet, Az. The best.”

He chuckled again, the sound low and warm. “I’m just being honest. Now let’s get you home, so you can get some rest. You’ve had a long night.”

“Mmhmm. This is very comfortable. I think I’m enjoying this a little too much.”

Azriel’s grip on you tightened slightly, and you could feel the tension in his muscles as he tried to maintain control. “Is that so?”

“Mmm,” you hummed, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of his neck. “I’ve always liked being this close to you… feeling you.”

He sucked in a breath, the sound a mixture of surprise and desire. “You’re drunk,” he reminded you gently, though there was a strain in his voice as if he was trying to convince himself more than you.

“Maybe,” you admitted, your lips brushing against his skin as you spoke. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want.”

Azriel’s steps faltered as you reached the townhouse, his heart hammering in his chest. You could feel the way his pulse quickened under your touch, and it only made you more bold. “And what is it you want?” he asked, his voice low and rough.

You smiled against his neck, your teeth grazing his skin ever so lightly. “I want you, Az. Always.”

His breath hitched as he carried you inside, the familiar darkness of the townhouse wrapping around you both. Without a word, he started toward his bedroom, the tension between you crackling like electricity.

He pushed the door open with his foot and crossed the threshold, finally setting you down on the edge of his bed. But before he could step back, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down to you, your lips crashing against his in a fierce, hungry kiss.

Azriel groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding up your thighs to grip your hips, pulling you closer as you leaned back onto the bed, dragging him down with you. His wings flared out behind him, twitching as your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan again.

He pulled back slightly, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he looked down at you, your face flushed, eyes dark with desire. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice thick with need.

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him down to you as your hands slid under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his chest. “I’m sure,” you whispered against his lips, your voice a sultry invitation.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Azriel’s lips crashed back onto yours, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive hunger. You could feel the heat of his skin against yours as he tore at your clothes, desperate to feel you, to have you.

His hands slid up under your shirt, fingers brushing over your bare skin, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he kissed his way down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

He paused at the hem of your shirt, his eyes dark with desire as he looked up at you. You nodded, and he pulled the fabric over your head, tossing it aside before his mouth descended on your chest, his tongue tracing a path down to your breasts.

You gasped as his lips closed around your nipple, his hand sliding down to the waistband of your pants. With a quick tug, he had them off, leaving you bare beneath him. Azriel’s eyes raked over your body, taking in every curve, every inch of skin as if he were memorizing you.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice reverent as his hands slid down your sides, his lips following the path of his hands.

You reached for him, pulling him back up to you, needing to feel his skin against yours. “I need you,” you whispered, your voice breathless with anticipation.

Azriel shuddered at your words, his lips capturing yours in another searing kiss as he positioned himself above you. He hesitated for just a moment, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt, but all he found was desire, love, and a deep, unyielding trust.

With a soft groan, he slid into you, the sensation drawing a gasp from both of you as your bodies finally connected, fitting together perfectly. He moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of being with you like this, but it wasn’t long before the tension between you became too much to bear.

You moved together, each thrust deepening the connection between you, your moans and gasps filling the room as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. Azriel’s hands roamed over your body, his touch sending shivers of pleasure down your spine as he whispered your name like a prayer.

As you neared the edge, you tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer as you felt the wave of pleasure crashing over you. Azriel followed soon after, his movements becoming erratic as he buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he reached his climax.

For a moment, the world stood still, the only sound the ragged breaths of you and Azriel as you held each other close. Then, slowly, the tension ebbed away, leaving you both in a state of blissful exhaustion.

As you both lay there, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow, a soft giggle escaped your lips. Azriel, still holding you close, raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice low and affectionate.

You shifted slightly, a playful glint in your eyes as you rolled over, pushing him onto his back. Azriel let out a surprised laugh, his hands instinctively moving to rest on your hips as you straddled him, your hair falling around your face in a soft curtain.

“What do you have in mind, love?” he asked, his voice filled with a mix of curiosity and desire.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Something the girls showed me earlier…”

Azriel’s eyes darkened with intrigue as you began to move your hips in a slow, teasing rhythm, your hands sliding up his chest. He sucked in a breath, his fingers digging into your thighs as he tried to hold on to the last remnants of his control.

“Is that so?” he murmured, his voice rough with anticipation.

“Mmhmm,” you hummed, your lips trailing soft kisses down his jawline as you continued to move against him, the friction sending shivers of pleasure through both of you.

Azriel’s hands roamed over your body, his touch growing more desperate as you began to pick up the pace, your hips rolling in a way that had him groaning your name.

“Y/N…” he rasped, his eyes locked onto yours as you took control, guiding him deeper inside you with each movement.

You bit your lip, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you leaned down to kiss him, your tongue teasing his as your movements became more intense. Azriel’s grip on your hips tightened, his wings flaring out behind him as he struggled to keep up with the pleasure you were giving him.

“What did those girls teach you?” he managed to say between gasps, his voice filled with both awe and amusement.

You just grinned, moving your hips in a way that had him arching off the bed, a deep groan escaping his lips. “Just a little something they thought you might enjoy.”

Azriel’s eyes fluttered closed, his head falling back against the pillow as he surrendered to the sensations you were giving him. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmured, though the smile on his face told you he wouldn’t have it any other way.

You chuckled, leaning down to kiss him deeply as you pushed both of you closer to the edge. “Then let’s make it worth it.”

With that, you moved even faster, your bodies moving in perfect sync as the pleasure built to a crescendo. The room was filled with the sound of your moans and gasps, the intensity of the moment taking you both higher and higher until finally, you both shattered together, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave.

As you collapsed onto his chest, both of you breathing heavily, Azriel wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both came down from the high.

“That was…” Azriel began, his voice trailing off as he tried to find the words.

“Amazing?” you offered, your voice still breathless as you snuggled against him.

“Amazing,” he agreed, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender kiss. “But also… unexpected.”

You giggled, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Just trying to keep things interesting.”

Azriel smiled, his hands sliding up and down your back in a soothing motion. “You definitely succeeded. But now, I think it’s time for some sleep.”

You nodded, feeling the exhaustion starting to catch up with you. “Yeah… sleep sounds good.”

With a contented sigh, you let your eyes drift closed, still wrapped in Azriel’s warm embrace. And as you drifted off to sleep, a satisfied smile on your lips, you knew that no matter what surprises the night brought, you and Azriel would always find a way to enjoy them together.

---

don't hesitate to comment, I read them ;)

[nebarious]

Rhys: so let me get this straight when you told us it snapped. You're not talking about the mating bond?

Y/n: yes

Cass: what snapped then?

Y/n: my patience

Mor: so when you jumped him, it was not out of love?

Y/n: yes. It's out of anger

Feyre: and you did that because?

Y/n: he insulted az

Elain: so you think violence is the answer?

Y/n: i think it's more fitting to talk with my fist

Cass: *looks at sulking az* now stop being dramatic she's defending your honour

Amren: such a dramatic damsel

[rosesncarnations]

Oh I forgot to post this one

[incorrectacotarblog]

Rhysand: Nesta, don’t let anyone treat you like an option

Nesta: wow that’s actually really nice of you to say

Rhysand: you’re inevitable - a horror beyond comprehension, an omen, a threat

Nesta:

[azrielslittleslut]

"The Lost Queen"- Chapter 11

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: A magical incident causes Azriel to unexpectedly tumble through a portal into modern-day Earth. Confused and injured, he is discovered by a compassionate human woman with a hidden past. She takes care of him and helps him discover the complexities of the modern world, completely unaware of who she truly is. Meanwhile, Azriel struggles with his conflicting desires: his duty to the Night Court and his growing love for the woman who saved him.

Their journey unfolds amidst ancient prophecies and the looming threat in Prythian. As they uncover the truth about forces conspiring against them, they must confront their deepest fears and make choices that will change their lives and the world forever.

Warnings: language, slight angst, fluff

Word Count: 8k

series masterlist

a/n: i know, i know. it's been 2 months. but i'm back in the game, and i promise to update more frequently.

Enjoy!

Azriel leaned against the wall outside of his bedroom, his shadows swirling lazily around him. He smiled softly as he listened to you talking and laughing with Elain as she helped you get dressed. He was thankful that Elain had taken the task of helping you into this world upon herself, but he hadn’t been surprised.

Elain was kind and compassionate, and she knew what it was like to be forced into a world of magic and shadows. At one time, that was what had drawn Azriel in, and he had fantasized about what it would be like to be with Elain. But the Cauldron had other plans, giving her a mate that wasn’t Azriel.

Months ago, Az had hated that, and he had lost sleep over it. After that almost kiss on Solstice, he had distanced himself, deciding to let Elain choose her own path. The undeniable scent of her mating bond, a sign that she had accepted Lucien as hers, made him thankful for his decision.

Elain was happy now, the joy written all over her face. His entire family was happy, even though they were facing a strange darkness in Prythian. Az thought that perhaps he would be the one to never find happiness, and he had accepted that. He had made peace with it, even.

He had lived a life full of pain and torture, and he had hurt more people than he cared to admit. He had thought that his loneliness and pain were the world’s way of punishing him for all of the wrongs he had done, for all of the sins he had committed.

But then he had been pulled into a strange world and had met a beautiful, compassionate woman with wildfire in her eyes. He had learned that his lack of happiness had nothing to do with everything he had done. It was simply the fact that his happiness, his mate, had been lost in another world.

The world had a strange way of doing things, Azriel thought, but he wasn’t going to question it. One minute, you could be facing darkness and shadows and horrors beyond the imagination, and the next, you could fall through a portal and into the arms of the love of your life. 

The bedroom door opened, followed by the sound of your musical laughter. “I think this color suits me,” you said as you walked into the hallway. “I’ve always liked blue, especially dark blue. Like cobalt.”

Azriel pushed himself off the wall, his eyes wandering down your body. You were wearing a simple pair of black leggings and black ankle boots. You had donned a cobalt blue sweater, the same color as Azriel’s siphons. The material looked soft, and though it covered your body completely, it hugged your form in a way that made his head spin.

Elain chuckled softly, and Az pulled his attention away from you long enough to meet her gaze. She was raising a knowing brow at him, amusement twinkling in her brown eyes.

Had Rhys told everyone about you being Azriel’s mate?

“Thank you for helping me, Elain,” you said, placing a gentle hand on Elain’s arm. “And for buying me these clothes.”

“Don’t mention it. It was no trouble at all,” Elain responded. She turned on her heel and started down the hallway. “I’m going to check and see if they need any help in the kitchen.”

Alone in the dim hallway, Azriel took a step forward, his hand trailing down your arm. The material of the sweater was warm and soft under his palm. “You look lovely,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on the exposed skin of your neck. “I like seeing you in my color.”

You ran a finger over the siphon on his hand. “You said these are a way for you to channel your magic?”

Azriel nodded in response, unable to form words at the sight of your pulse. He longed to know what it would be like to have it under his lips. Your scent of warm vanilla and jasmine filled his nostrils, and he found himself leaning down, his mind clouded by want and need.

“Why is it blue?”

The innocence of your question pulled Az from his desire. Now was not the time to let his mind wander to those places. Hopefully, in the future when this whole mess with the unstable magic is dealt with, he will have all the time in the world to get the soft skin of your body under his lips. But for now, he needed to focus.

By the Cauldron, he still needed to tell you about the bond.

Azriel reluctantly pulled away from your warmth. “The color of the siphons depends on the color of the magic.” He shrugged, his hand laying atop yours on his siphon. “My magic is blue, so my siphon is blue.”

You raised your eyes to meet his, and he could see a wariness in your gaze. He could tell you were trying to hide it, but in the few days he had known you, he had learned to read your every expression. “Oh,” you said softly, pulling your hand away from his.

“Are you alright?” Az asked, placing his palm on your cheek. “If you don’t want to meet my family, we can-“

“No,” you said sternly, cutting him off. “I won’t get the answers I want by hiding away in that bedroom. I need to face this, even though I’m scared shitless right now.”

Azriel smiled softly, his thumb sweeping across your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered closed as you leaned into his touch. “My brave fyrvor,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. He pulled away and gestured down the hallway with a hand. He offered his arm to you as he asked, “Shall we?”

You looped your arms through his and followed him down the hallway. The wall was lined with paintings, all thanks to Feyre, and he watched as your eyes took in each one.

“Feyre painted those,” he said, gesturing to the walls. Some of them were of Nyx, and others were of Rhys and Nyx together. Az could see the paintings of the Illyrian mountains and Elain’s garden. He was always impressed at his High Lady’s talent. Meanwhile, he couldn’t even draw a straight line.

You hummed as you looked, a small smile blooming on your face. “When we were at Serena’s studio, you said you knew a better painter.” You looked at him then, your expression soft. “Were you talking about Feyre?”

Azriel smiled faintly as he thought back to that day. Had it really only been a few days ago? “Yes,” he said finally.

“You missed them a lot when you were in my world? Your family?” Your tone was full of gentle curiosity, your face searching his.

He nodded, the weight of those days away from his world pressing in. “I did,” he admitted. “More than I expected. I have never… fit in with my family. I’m different in many ways, so I’ve always felt like an outsider, even to them. But they’ve been my sanity through the centuries.”

Though they do drive me insane most of the time, he wanted to add but kept that to himself.  

“An outsider,” you mumbled, seemingly to yourself. You shivered, as if you were shaking off an unwanted thought. “I know what that’s like. To feel like you don’t belong.” Your voice was quiet as you confided in him. “I suppose I feel more so like an outsider now.”

The sudden graveness on your face startled him, so he trailed his hand down, lacing his fingers with yours. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Maybe we can feel like outsiders together?”

You smiled up at him, and he felt the tightness in his chest ease at the light in your eyes. “Yeah. We can make it a club or something. Give it a name to make it official?”

Azriel chuckled. Things felt so normal between the two of you, despite the dark could that hung over his shoulders. “I like the sound of that.”

The conversation died out as the two of you walked toward the dining room. Your eyes took in the interior of the River House, your mouth hanging open slightly as you looked at all of the expensive décor.

As he pulled you toward the dining room, the clatter of dishes and the soft murmurs of his family greeted him. His shadows swirled around his shoulders, telling him that Cassian was already seated and tearing into pieces of toast, while Rhys and Feyre exchanged quiet words at the head of the table. Nesta was there, too, apparently looking at Cassian with a rather disgusted look as she watched her mate eat like it was his last meal.

At the doorway, Azriel squeezed your hand, leaning down to whisper into your ear, “Are you ready, fyrvor?” Your hair tickled his nose as you turned to look at him, your eyes filled with determination.

“Yes. I’m ready.”

“Cassian.” Nesta’s sharp voice cut through the room over the clatter of plates. “At least use a napkin. You’re getting toast all over-“

Azriel stepped into the dining room, clearing his throat, not caring that he cut Nesta off. “Family,” he greeted, his hand tight in yours as he pulled you around his wings. “I would like everyone to meet Y/N.”

The room was silent, utterly silent. Cassian stopped his chewing, his mouth open as he looked at you with raised brows. Nesta’s eyes were sharp and calculating as she leaned back in her chair, a faint smile playing on her lips. Rhys was biting his lip, his hand protectively on Feyre’s shoulder, while Feyre was nervously twirling her fork in her hands.

Azriel swallowed against the tightness in his throat. He couldn’t think of anything to say to ease the tension, not knowing how to begin explaining all of this. He opened his mouth to say something, he didn’t know what, but was thankfully cut off as Elain entered the room, Lucien at her heels. They were both carrying plates of steaming food.

“Y/N! Azriel!” Elain greeted with a warm smile. “I was wondering when you two would make it here.” Leave it up to Elain to be the one to bring down the blade to cut the tension.

Feyre dropped her fork as stood, pushing Rhys’s hand off her shoulder as she did so. “Welcome to our home,” she said, raising her hands in welcome. “My name is Feyre. I’ve heard that you’ve already met Rhys, my mate.” She gestured to the other side of the table. “You’ve met Elain, but the female next to her is Nesta, my other sister. The male eating his body weight in toast is Cassian. The male sitting next to Elain is her mate, Lucien.”

Following the awkward introductions, everyone nodded once in greeting. Azriel could feel the nervousness radiating off of you, so he ran a calming hand down the center of your back. “It’s nice to meet all of you,” you said in a quiet voice, but Az could hear the steel behind it, a sign that though you were nervous, fear had no hold on you.

Feyre smiled, her face radiant. “Az has told us so much about you.”

“All good things I hope,” you said with a soft laugh.

Nesta drummed her fingers on the table. “If you consider being from another world, one completely different from this one, a good thing… then yes. All good things.”

Your smile faltered at Nesta’s tone, and Azriel fought the urge to snarl at Nesta for making you uncomfortable. But he knew that Nesta meant no harm by what she said. It was just how she talked to people who she didn’t know that well.

Still, Azriel glowered at Nesta, a quiet sign that he would not tolerate her sneering.

“Nesta,” Rhys drawled, his eyes moving between you and the female. “Maybe we should hear Y/N’s side of the story.” He managed to force a smile onto his pale face, and Azriel could see the dark circles under his eyes. When had his brother last gotten a good night’s rest?

Not since before you left, shadowsinger, his shadows answered him as they swirled around his shoulders and wings.

“Please. Have a seat,” Elain said, gesturing to two empty seats at the end of the table. Azriel noticed that the seats were farthest away from Rhys and Nesta, but they were closest to Elain and Lucien. “And dig in. The both of you look like you could use a hot meal.”

After the two of you had taken your seats, Azriel grabbed the nearest dish and spooned some of it onto your plate. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“I can do it, Azzy,” you murmured, taking the spoon and bowl from his scarred hands.

Cassian chuckled, no doubt at the nickname you had given him. Az ground his teeth as he shot a glare at Cass, silently warning him to keep his mouth shut. His brother shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating his toast, not caring that his face was covered in jam.

“So,” Feyre said, picking up her fork. “Az tells us that you come from another world.”

You set down the bowl and took a deep breath. “Yes. I come from a place called Earth.” You reached for his hand under the table, and he returned your gesture with a soft squeeze, encouraging you. “I grew up in a place called New Orleans, Louisiana. I was a nurse, working at a hospital in the trauma department. My parents, they-“ Your voice trembled slightly, your eyes filling with tears. You looked down at your uneaten food, obviously trying to hide it from everyone’s prying eyes.  

Azriel’s heart broke at the sight of it. He knew, deep down, you had not had the time to deal with everything that had happened. Madja had said that you were more than likely still in shock from the whole ordeal. The healer had told him that he needed to be ready for when everything hit you, that he needed to prepare himself to weather the storm.

Azriel had told Madja not to worry about that. He would fight through the deepest, darkest pits of hell to make sure you didn’t have to bear that burden alone.

You continued on, your voice shaky but clear, “My mother was a teacher. My father was a mechanic. They raised me with so much love and kindness… My life was so simple, before all of this…”

Feyre nodded solemnly, her eyes shadowed. “Azriel told us about your parents. About what happened,” she said, her voice soft like silk. “We are very sorry about what you went through.” Her tone was genuine, and Az knew she was telling the truth.

His High Lady knew was it was like to suffer and watch someone you love die. All of them did.

“Thank you,” you whispered. You blinked the tears away, pulling your eyes back up to Feyre. “As much as it hurts, I know that none of that matters right now.”

“What do you mean?” Lucien asked, leaning forward in his chair. “Surely the loss of your parents should be at the forefront of your mind. None of us would blame you if you took the time to grieve for them.”

You turned your eyes to the male, your gaze lingering curiously on his mechanical eye. “I worded that wrong. It matters, yes, but I think more important matters are at hand right now. I will grieve when I find out the truth about this… mess. My parents are dead because of who, or what I am. That is what I am focused on.”

Rhys ran a finger along the edge of the table, his gaze nearly piercing as he looked at you. “And what exactly are you?”

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly at the High Lord, not caring that you were talking to the most powerful male in Prythian. Azriel wanted to laugh at the sight of it. “You know as much as I do. You were there when Madja said I wasn’t human, and that’s all I know.”

Rhys narrowed his eyes. “How can you not know that you’re not human?” His voice was almost a snarl, and it was enough to pull Az out of his silence.

“There is no magic where she’s from, Rhysand,” Azriel growled. “When I first met her, I was convinced she was human. Up until I saw her burst into flames, I thought she was human.” He planted his hands on the table, pushing himself out of his seat. He leaned over the table, his face twisted into a snarl. “So, believe me when I tell you, she doesn’t fucking know what she is.”

Cassian whistled. “Damn, brother,” he said, his voice full of amusement. “Why are you so on edge?”

Azriel snapped his head toward Cassian. The other male wiggled his eyebrows, a silent taunt for Az that said, Come and get me. Get it out of your system before you make a fool of yourself.

Az planted a foot on the ground, meaning to take Cass up on his silent offer, but a small hand wrapping around his wrist stopped him in his tracks. He turned his head, only to be met with your steady gaze. Just like that, his heart rate calmed, his breathing slowed.

Calm down, his shadows whispered. Our mate is scared.

“I think,” Nesta said, her voice echoing through the now-silent room, “that we all need to sit down and have a normal fucking conversation.” She looked at Cassian, Azriel, and then Rhys, her eyes as sharp as a dagger. “Can the three of you handle that?”

After a beat of silence, the three of them nodded. Azriel took his seat, Cassian went back to nibbling on toast, and Rhys leaned back in his chair.

“Good.” Nesta turned to you, her face warm and open, so unlike her usual demeanor. “Now, you said there was no magic where you are from. If that’s the case, how did Azriel show up in your world?”

You shook your head, your hand still tight on Azriel’s wrist. “I don’t know. He just… showed up one night.” You let out a sigh and ran a hand through your hair. “We tried to find answers while we were there, but we got nothing. We only met a weird artist and a lady who threw epic masquerades.”

Azriel paused. He had told his family about the bigger details, like falling through the portal and you going up in flames like a wildfire. But he hadn’t told them about Serena or Mama Laveau. Maybe his family knew something he didn’t?

“The artist,” Azriel said, his voice low. “Her name was Serena. She said she had dreams and visions of Prythian, and she painted them.” He turned his head toward Rhys. “She painted Velaris, Rhys. It looked like she had been here before, but she said she hadn’t.”

Elain spoke up, her voice soft. “Was she a seer?”

“I don’t think so,” Azriel responded. “She said she came from witches and warlocks, whatever that is. But yes, I think she was human.”

“And what about this woman who threw masquerade balls?” Rhys asked, his brows raised. If the fact that a woman from another world knew about Velaris bothered him, Rhys didn’t show it. “What about her?”

“Mama Laveau,” you said. “She was… strange. There was something about her that was different. Serena seemed odd, too, but this woman was..” You shivered slightly. Azriel hadn’t been aware that she had affected you that much.

But then again, the two of you hadn’t really had time to talk about that before everything went to shit.

“She mentioned something,” you continued on, turning your head to Azriel. Your brows were furrowed in confusion as you tried to recall what was said. “What was it she said, Azzy?”

Azriel swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “The World Walkers.” He turned to Cassian. “Do you remember Firewine?”

Cassian grimaced. “That shit that made me puke for two days? Yeah, I remember that stuff, even though I wish to forget it.”

Azriel pressed on, “She had some. She said she got it from a World Walker.” Az shook his head, his mind suddenly feeling clearer than it had in days. “There is no way she could have had that unless there was someone from Prythian who gave it to her.”

“What are World Walkers?” Lucien asked, his face twisted up in confusion, as well as something almost like fear. Azriel wondered if he sometimes regretted getting involved in the Night Court’s drama. “Did she ever explain what that is?”

“No,” you murmured. “She did not.” Your expression was one of defeat, and Azriel knew what you were feeling. You felt like the two of you had failed in trying to figure out why he landed on your doorstep. He felt the same way, but he couldn’t let himself dwell on that, not when so much was at stake right now.

“Hey,” he murmured to you, his voice low. “We got something, Y/N. We will figure out the rest. I promise.”

You offered him a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “Okay.”

“We need to figure out the rest sooner rather than later,” Rhys said, standing up from his chair. “Things here are bad, Az. I know Cassian has told you some of it, but things are worse than you can imagine.”

“Then enlighten me,” Az snapped back, still on edge from earlier. He took a deep breath to calm himself. “I know I haven’t been present these last few days, but now that Y/N is awake, I’m all ears.”

Rhys glanced over to you, his eyes wary. “Perhaps we could talk about it in my office?”

“I think you should talk about it here,” Elain cut in. “Y/N lives here now, so she should know. There’s no point in hiding it from her.”

Azriel nodded his head toward Elain, silently thanking her for saying what was on his mind. Feyre glanced up at her mate. “Elain is right. She should know, Rhys.”

Rhys sighed. “Alright,” he grumbled as he sat back down. He raked a hand through his black hair, and Az noticed the slight tremble in it. “You know how all of this has affected us, especially our magic. I know Cass told you about the Illyrians. But it’s more than that.” Rhys took an unsteady breath. “The magic is… going away. There have been reports of the land dying. Creatures in the woods have been found, but the only thing left of them is their rotting corpses and the scent of something dark and wrong. Crime throughout the courts has risen. Riots have started. We’re on the brink of another war, Az, and we’re not on the winning side this time.”

Rhys’s words hung in the air like a dark cloud. Azriel felt his heart stutter in his chest, and his ears started to ring. A chill crept into his bones as he pondered what could be causing this. He had faced darkness in his life, more darkness than most people. He had fought in wars and seen the worst that life had to offer.

 Still, nothing in his centuries of living could compare to the fear he felt right now.

“The magic is going away?” Azriel asked, his voice almost a whisper. “How is that possible?”

Rhys shook his head. “We don’t know. It’s like someone, or something, is stealing it. That’s all we’ve been able to come up with.”

Azriel felt your body lock up beside him. “Mathias,” you hissed, your voice full of disgust.” He mentioned a queen. He said the queen had requested my presence.” You tightened your hold on his wrist. “Do you think that has to do with any of this?”

“There are no queens here, other than the Mortal Queens,” Azriel responded.

“The Mortal Queens wouldn’t do this.” Lucien’s voice was hard. He had spent much time with Vassa, so out of anyone, he would know if they were capable of something like this.

Feyre’s face paled. “Do you think Amarantha-“

Rhys growled lowly. “No. She is dead. You know that as well as I do, Feyre.”

“What if she had someone on her side? What if she had been planning this before she died?” Feyre asked biting her lip.

“Enough.” Cassian’s voice dripped with command. It was the voice he used only when he was trying to deal with the Illyrians who wouldn’t listen. “I will not sit here and listen to that bitch’s name be spoken in this house.” He glanced over to Rhys and Feyre. “Especially not by the two of you.”

Nesta cocked her head to the side, her eyes on your face. “Who is Mathias?”

“He was a man that moved in next door to my parents.” You swallowed. “And he was the one who killed them.”

“He wasn’t human,” Azriel said. “He appeared to be human, but he was glamoured. When he removed it, I felt his power. It wasn’t like anything I’ve ever experienced, other than what I felt in the Whispering Woods.”

“And he mentioned a queen who wants Y/N?” Elain asked, her eyes locked onto you. She had a strange look on her face, as if she could see something the rest of them couldn’t.

“Yes,” you mumbled. “He wanted to bring me back here, to Prythian.”

The room was filled with voices, all questions directed to you and Azriel. Why did he want you? Where did he go? How could you let him get away, Az?

Azriel was about to stand and yell at his family to shut the fuck up. He could see the stress on your face, the tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. He needed to tell you more about his world before his family scared you so much that you decided to find the fastest way out of here.

He had just placed his hands on the table, pushing himself out of his seat, when Elain’s eyes went white, her expression going blank.

“She walks in the shadows of mountains. Her breath is death and decay. Her smile is sharper than any blade, and she is coming for what is hers.” Elain’s voice was no longer hers, carrying with it something dark and sinister.

Lucien reached over, placing his hand on his mate’s shoulder. “Elain,” he murmured. “What do you see?”

“Mountains. Snow. A throne. A sword.” Elain’s eyes refocused, her gaze still on you. “I see you, too, Y/N. She’s coming for you.”

You shuddered. “I don’t- I’m not-“ You started to tremble as you spoke, your eyes wide. “I’m just a girl from New Orleans! I’m nothing!”

Azriel pulled you into his arms, holding your shaking body against his. “You’re everything, fyrvor,” he whispered. “I won’t let her take you. Nothing will happen to you. Do you understand me?”

You pulled away, raising your face up to his. At that moment, the dining room and his family melted away. It was only you. You were the center of his being, his entire world. He could feel the bond in his chest, glowing so brightly that it almost took his breath away.

“You promise?” you asked in a small voice, so broken, so fragile.

He ran a hand down your cheek, savoring your warmth against his scarred flesh. “I promise.”

“Well,” Cassian drawled, “this is all very endearing. Really, it warms my heart. But we still know nothing about this queen, or what she wants with Y/N.”

Azriel forced himself back into reality, turning his head to face his family. Lucien was holding Elain, who was staring at her food. Rhys and Feyre were pale, eyes on each other, no doubt talking to each other with their minds. Nesta was the only one who seemed unphased by the whole situation.

“I’ve faced one evil queen,” she said with a shrug. “I think I can handle another one.” She smiled darkly, her eyes glancing over to Ataraxia where it leaned against the far wall.

“Azriel,” Rhys said. “Can you check in with your spies? See if they have heard of a queen amongst the courts?”

Azriel nodded numbly. He didn’t want to leave you, not now. But he still had a job to do, and he had to trust that his family would protect you while he was gone. “Yes. I can leave after breakfast.”

“Then it’s settled,” Nesta said, rising from her chair. She smiled at you, her eyes bright. “I’m assuming you want to know more about our world, Y/N. About magic and all of that. But tell me,” she said, leaning forward slightly, “have you ever heard of a Pegasus?”

---

The Pegasus, it seemed, was a rare creature here in Prythian. According to Nesta, it came from this place called “The Prison,” and the only remaining two in existence belonged to some guy named Helion.

“So, you’ve never seen one?” you asked Nesta. The two of you were sitting in the living room of the River House. The room was warm, smelling faintly of citrus and jasmine. After breakfast, everyone had gone their separate ways. Elain and Lucien had wandered into the gardens, Rhys to his office, and Feyre to her painting studio. Cassian went back to this place called the House of Wind, saying that he could not miss another day of training.

Only Nesta had stayed with you, choosing to keep you company in Azriel’s absence.

Nesta shook her head. “I’ve seen a miniature Pegasus, but never the real thing. My friends and I would be very happy to see one, to say the least.”

You hummed as you looked around the room, your eyes wandering as you took in everything around you. Rhys and Feyre were rich as hell, no doubt. You had never seen a house that was so well furnished. Somehow, though, it all looked cozy despite the grandeur of the place.

A part of you wanted to curl up in this chair and sleep for an eternity, hoping that you would wake up and this nightmare would be over. You knew that wouldn’t happen, no matter how much you wished for it. Whatever was happening in Prythian, whomever this queen was… It was your problem now, and sleeping wouldn’t solve it.

Your eyes caught a small object sitting on the floor next to the fireplace. It appeared to be a tiny sword, small enough that a child would be the one to play with it. “Is there a child here?” you asked Nesta, who was quietly sipping her tea.

“Yes,” she said. “Rhys and Feyre have a son named Nyx. He is here in the house, but he’s been napping all morning.” Her voice was tight, and you could tell she was lying.

“It’s alright, you know. You can tell me that Rhys and Feyre don’t trust me enough to bring their kid around. I get it.”

Nesta smiled sadly. She leaned forward and placed her tea on the small table next to her chair. “We’ve been through a lot these last few years. They will come around. Just give them time.”

Your eyes snapped to Nesta. There was something about this female that settled your nerves. You could tell she was powerful, that something different lurked beneath her skin, but it didn’t scare you. “Do you trust me?”

“I do.” Nesta crossed her legs, leaning back in her chair. “I don’t know you, but I can tell that what you say is the truth, about not knowing what you are. Besides,” she said, a smile forming on her face, “if Azriel trusts you, and that male trusts nobody, who am I to argue with that?”

The mention of Azriel caused your heart to clench. Immediately after breakfast, he had pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before leaving to meet with his spies, whatever that meant. You missed him, even though it had only been a few hours since he had left.

“When do you think he will be back?” you asked, forcing your voice to remain steady.

“I’m not sure,” Nesta said with a shrug. “Hopefully he doesn’t wander into another portal while he’s gone.”

Your chest tightened at the thought of Azriel leaving, an unsettling mix of fear and anxiety setting in you. The thought of him landing on another girl’s doorstep made you want to sob. “What if he doesn’t come back this time?” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could catch them.

“Azriel will come back, Y/N,” Nesta murmured, leaning forward to place a hand on your knee. Her touch was oddly comforting. “This is Azriel’s job. He’s Rhysand’s spymaster, and he needs to see what he can find out about this whole ordeal.”

You nodded, but the sinking feeling in your chest didn’t go away. The room was filled with silence after that, save for the sound of the wind softly howling against the windows. You looked toward the city- Velaris- the one Serena had painted. It was beautiful, to say the least. You could see the river winding through the city, and you could make out the forms of people as they walked, completely oblivious to whatever dark forces were at work here.

Your mind wandered to Azriel’s family. Feyre, Nesta, and Elain seemed nice enough, and Cassian reminded you of the gym-obsessed frat boys you had met during your college tours. Rhys seemed… on edge, but you couldn’t blame him. You would probably act the same way if your court and people were at risk. You hoped he would warm up to you eventually.

Lucien didn’t seem to fit in here, but you could tell he was attached to Elain, his mate. Wait. What the hell is a mate?

“Nesta?” You turned your attention back to the female, who was busy stirring her tea.

“Hmm?”

You bit your lip, annoyed that you had so many questions. You always hated being around those who asked questions constantly, but now you were one of them. “What is a mate?”

Nesta’s gaze snapped to yours, her eyes like the color of a raging sea. “A mate is like a husband or a wife, but it’s more than that. It’s more of a soul-bond.” She placed her hand on her chest, right over her heart. “You can feel it here, like a pull or a tug, connecting you to them.”

You furrowed your brows. “So, like soulmates?”

Nesta smiled as she nodded her head. “Yes. I suppose that’s a good comparison.”

Your mind worked, thinking back to the conversation at breakfast. Rhys and Feyre were mates, and so were Lucien and Elain. Nesta had Cassian, so that left only one…

“Does Azriel have a mate?” you blurted out, unable to stop yourself. The room suddenly felt smaller, the walls closing in at the thought of Azriel being bonded to someone else like that.

“No,” Nesta said, “he doesn’t.” There was a shadow over her face, though, and you had the sinking feeling that there was something she wasn’t telling you.

You wanted to press more, but your heart couldn’t take it. You remembered the kiss at the ball, the way Azriel’s hands had caressed and held you like a lifeline. You couldn’t bear the thought of another being the one to receive such affection from him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” you asked, hoping she didn’t notice the sudden change in conversation. “Elain has been kind, but everyone else has been keeping their distance. Why?”

She ran a finger around the rim of her teacup, her eyes suddenly filling with sadness. “I was human once,” she said, her voice low. “So was Feyre and Elain. We were forced into this life a few years ago, when other dark forces were at work in Prythian. We dealt with it in our own ways, of course. Feyre had Rhys to help her, and Elain, after suffering through depression, found her own way. I, on the other hand, did not deal with it all that well.”

You looked at Nesta. She was clearly not human, fully Fae, with her pointed ears and longer limbs. “What did you do?”

“I nearly drank myself to death. I also slept with at least half the males in Velaris,” she said, but there was no shame in her voice. She spoke like a woman who had been to hell and back and had come out on the other side triumphant. “Cassian and my friends helped me through it. So did Azriel. They helped me discover that this life isn’t as bad as it seems.”

She leaned forward then, her eyes locked onto your face. “I’m being nice to you because I know what it’s like to have your world turned completely upside down. I know what it’s like to be one thing one day, only to wake up and be something else. I watched my father die before my eyes, and I watched the others move on as if nothing happened.” She tilted her head to the side, her eyes soft. “The only difference, I suppose, is that I grew up in Prythian, unlike you.”

You were at a loss for words, your throat closing up. “I’m… sorry. I had no idea. I-“

Nesta raised a hand. “I figured Azriel hadn’t gotten around to telling you about that yet, so don’t feel bad,” she said.

“Do you miss it?” you asked. “Being human?”

Nesta’s eyes softened as she thought for a moment. “Sometimes I do, but I’ve gotten used to being Fae. I’m able to fight now, and I have a badass sword. I have Cassian and my friends, so I can say that I don’t miss it as much as I used to. “

You smiled softly. “I hope I can say the same thing one day.”

“You will, especially if Az has anything to do with it,” she said with a sharp laugh. Suddenly, she stopped herself, clearing her throat as if she had said too much. “I do have a question. Azriel told me about what happened at your parents’ house, more than he told the others, I think. He said you grew wings and went up in flames, that you healed him. What do you remember about that?”

“Mathias had killed my parents, and he was trying to kill Azriel,” you said with a shrug. “I don’t know… I just felt so much anger and rage. I felt something like a flame inside of me, begging to be let out, to grow.” You looked at Nesta, your gaze as cold as ice. “So, I let it out, and it grew.”

Nesta pursed her lips. “Is that the flame that I see in your eyes? The one flickering like a small candle?”

Damn. Everyone could see it, then.

“Yes. I still feel it now,” you said, running a hand over your chest. “It’s stronger here, in Prythian. I don’t know what any of it means.”

“Hmm,” Nesta mused. “It must have been something, considered Az admitted it scared the shit out of him. Nothing scares that male, except for…” She trailed off, a small grin on her lips.

“Except for what?” You couldn’t imagine that Azriel, stoic and emotionless as he is, could be scared of something. 

Nesta ran a finger along the arm of her chair. “Except for me,” she said frankly. “I have a different power, too, Y/N. Az can tell you the details of it all. But you should know that I am willing to help you. So is Elain, Lucien, and Cassian, and of course Azriel.” She sighed softly. “Even Rhys and Feyre will help, though their attention will be more focused on the bigger threat in Prythian.  We can help you figure this out.”

For the first time since you arrived here, you felt a small flicker of hope bloom in your chest. Azriel’s family wasn’t all that bad, after all. You were thankful they were willing to offer their aid, despite the darkness surrounding their world.

You opened your mouth to express your gratitude, but you were cut off as the door to the living room opened, revealing the frame of a female you hadn’t met. She was incredibly beautiful, with a strong, curvy body that would send any male to his knees. She had brown eyes and flowing golden hair. She was wearing a pair of black pants paired with a silky red sweater threaded with gold.

She was easily the most beautiful female you had ever seen.

“I swear if I have to stay in that library for any longer today, I will lose my mind,” the female said as she gracefully glided into the room. She was rubbing her temples as if she had a throbbing headache. “It’s so dim in there. I don’t know how any of the priestesses see anything.”

Nesta gestured to the female, completely unbothered by her complaining. “Y/N, meet Morrigan.” She gestured to you with a hand. “Morrigan, meet Y/N.”

Morrigan pulled her hand away from her face as a beautiful smile bloomed on her full lips. “Oh! You’re Azriel’s Y/N!” she exclaimed. “I’ve been dying to meet you. But please, call me Mor.”

A part of you wondered just what had been said about you while you were unconscious. You weren’t Azriel’s anything, but you decided not to comment on it. “You weren’t at breakfast,” you said.

Mor sighed and took the extra seat between you and Nesta. “No. I was in the library trying to help Gwyn with her research about this whole mess.”

You wanted to ask who Gwyn was, but Nesta said, “Did you find anything? She said she had been researching ancient spells that could have something to do with the magic going away.”

Mor shook her head, causing long, blonde waves to fall over her shoulder. “No luck with that,” she said. “But we did find something strange. You know the map of Prythian that hangs on the wall next to Gwyn’s desk? You know, the small one that has been the same for thousands of years?”

Nesta nodded slowly, her eyes wary. “Yes. Gwyn said it had been there since before the library was even built. What about it?”

Mor reached into her back pocket and pulled out a rolled-up piece of paper. With long fingers, she unrolled it, laying it on the small table at the center of the chairs. “That,” she said, pointing to a spot at the top of the map, “was not there three days ago.”

You leaned forward in the chair, inspecting the map. It looked oddly like the maps you had seen of Europe, but it was outlined differently. You saw an island to the right of the mainland named Hybern. As your eyes scanned the paper, you saw the Mortal Lands, all of the courts. The court at the top was the Night Court, where you were now. Above that, you saw a mountain range called the Illyrian Mountains.

Mor’s finger was hovering over a black spot at the center of the mountain range. “In the centuries I have looked at maps of Prythian, I have never seen anything in the middle of those mountains.”

“What mountains?” came a deep voice from the doorway. Azriel stood there, his wings tucked in, those beautiful shadows swirling lazily around his body. One of the shadows darted out, moving over to you.

You smiled down at it as it wrapped itself around your wrist. “Hello to you, too,” you whispered to it.

Mor looked back at Azriel, her finger still on the map. “Az,” she greeted. “It seems we’ve had a recent change of geography in Prythian.”

Azriel walked into the room, looking every bit like a dark prince from a storybook. Your heart lurched as he bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “What do you mean, Mor?” he asked, but his attention was still on you.

“Look at this.” Mor pulled the map from the table, offering it to Az. “Look at the Illyrian Mountains.”

He kept his eyes on you as he took the map from Mor. He smiled at you as he looked down to study it, his brows creasing. “It looks like the mountains,” he said. “The same frozen wasteland that’s always there.”

Mor rolled her eyes. “No, you idiot.” She sat up and put her finger on the black dot. “There. That isn’t normally there.”

“Perhaps you got ink on it?” he said with a shrug, handing the paper back to Mor. “Nothing looks amiss to me. Then again, I try not to look at those mountains unless I have to.”

From the other chair, Nesta chuckled, her shoulders shaking as she tried to contain her laughter.

“Whatever,” Mor groaned, throwing up her hands. “I’m still going to take it to Rhys. Even if it is just an ink stain, he’ll need to get Gwyn a new map.” Mor stood and made for the door, stopping once she got to the threshold. She turned around, her eyes on you and Azriel. She had a soft expression on her face, like she was looking at something that brought her great happiness. “Hey, Nesta. Elain wanted me to ask if you could help her with something in the kitchen.”

Nesta glanced over to the blond female as she settled herself back onto the chair. “Right now?”

Mor nodded, her eyes as hard as granite. “Right now.”

“Fine,” Nesta mumbled, standing up and walking over to Mor. Her green dress swayed around her body as she walked, making her look regal. While Az looked like a dark prince from a fairytale, Nesta looked like a queen.

Once they were in the hallway, you heard Nesta say, “Just when things were getting good, too.”

Mor laughed. “Do you think he will tell her?”

Tell me what? You strained your ears to listen to the rest of their conversation, but you were distracted by Azriel as he placed his hands on your hips, pulling you into a hug. You melted into him, breathing in his scent, letting his warmth thaw out the chill that had settled into your bones.

“You’re back,” you mumbled into his leathers, your words barely understandable. “Find out anything?”

Azriel squeezed you once before pulling away, moving his hand up to cup your chin. “No,” he murmured. “My spies have been blinded. They haven’t heard of anything strange going on. At least nothing that we didn’t know already.”

You felt your heart sink at his words. You had hoped that he could find out something. “Back to the drawing board, then?”

“Mm hm,” Az said, moving his head down. As his lips pressed against yours, the world melted away. There was no horror or pain or darkness. There was only this moment with him, only his soft lips touching yours.

As the kiss started to grow, Azriel pulled away. You wanted to cry out in protest, but he placed a finger on your lips. “Are you tired?” he asked, his voice low.

You were tired, but you had been sleeping for days. You knew that you would be haunted by strange dreams if you went back to sleep, and you needed to do something, anything, to take your mind off things.

“Not really,” you admitted, smiling up at him, hoping he would believe you.

He returned your smile, his lips still swollen from kissing. “Good. I was wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. I know things are… strange right now. But I want to try and make things normal for you. As much as I can anyway.”

You blinked at him, your chest filling with emotion. “What do you have in mind?” you asked, wrapping your arms around his slim waist.

He unfurled his wings slightly. “How do you feel about flying?”

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[azrielslightintheshadows]

Masterlist

Warning; English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes.

Azriel x f!Reader

Payback is a bitch (angst, fluff)

Best mistake (fluff)

Broken Bat (angst)

Alive (angst)

Circle. (fluff)

I fell for you. (Angst) ,

Part 2 (x Eris) ,

Final part (a bit angst, fluff)

Scary mate (mostly fluff)

Trapped mate. (angst)

Failed proposal. (angst, fluff),

Successful wedding (part 2)

Oops (fluff)

Peregryn. (fluff)

Meant to be together. (angst, fluff)

Missed you. (angst, fluff)

Idiot. (angst, fluff)

Forever (angst, fluff)

My mate (angst, fluff)

Scattered vows (angst),

Part 2 (coming soon)

I've got you (fluff)

Winter solstice (dad!Azriel, fluff)

Honeymoon phase (fluff, suggestive)

Untouchable. (angst)

Dirty mouth (suggestive, fluff)

Rhysand x f!Reader

Game night disaster (angst, fluff)

Between you and danger. (angst, fluff)

Sick (fluff)

Panic. (fluff)

Baby. (fluff)

Together. (angst)

What would I do without you? (fluff)

Lucky. (fluff)

Hold me. (angst, fluff)

Safe. (angst, fluff)

Insecurities. (a bit of angst, fluff. dad!Rhysand)

Let me take care of you. (mostly fluff)

High Lady (mostly angst, a bit fluff)

Cassian x f!Reader

Live without you (angst, fluff)

Perfect mate (fluff)

Wings. (dad!Cassian, fluff)

Forever yours (angst, fluff)

Not alone (angst, fluff) Warning; depression.

Finally (fluff, dad!Cassian)

My girls (dad!Cassian, angst, fluff)

Brat tamer. (SMUT 18+, angst)

Survival (a bit angst, mostly fluff)

Overprotective daddy (fluff, dad!Cassian)

Always. (angst, mostly fluff)

Forgotten. (angst, fluff at the end)

Eris x f!Reader

Everything is going to be okay (angst, fluff)

Sucker for a brat. (a bit angst, SMUT (18+) towards the end)

Part 2 (SMUT 18+)

Fake love. (angst)

Helion x f!Reader

Desire. (Angst, fluff)

Inner circle x f!Reader

De-aging potion (mostly fluff. Mate; Azriel)

Family (mostly fluff. Rhysand's daughter!Reader)

Series Masterlist;

Shadows and tears (angst). Completed. [Azriel x f!Reader]

Princess. (angst). Ongoing [Azriel x f!Reader]

Currently working on two new series. Planning to post one shots daily.

If you like my work send your requests. It will be my pleasure to deliver your fantasies with a touch of my own. Bat boys requests are welcome! 🖤🦇

Read this before you make a request!

[littlestarlightseverywhere]

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.”

[shadowdaddies]

Here's my ACOTAR masterlist! I'll keep my posts linked here. 🩶

✨= fluff

❤️‍🔥= smut

💧= angst

💥 = action (ka-pow!)

Azriel

Cassian

Rhys

Eris

Lucien

Helion

Feyre

Nesta

Elain

Mor

Tarquin

Amren

Poly Fics

the beautiful dividers on my blog are by saradika-graphics