#shadowsinger x reader

[thelov3lybookworm]

Misreading Letters

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Day 4: character A thought it was a date and character b thought they were going as a group

Summary: Maybe misreading letters sometime lead to happy nights.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1283 (longer than i thought it would be honestly)

Warnings: a bit of angst ig? heh

A/n: i wanted this to be SO, SO ANGSTY, but then i was like eh lets see where this goes, and its kinda fluffy i think! so ig thats a plus? as always, with me not liking my fluff fics, i think i could have done better with this one, but i wrote half of this in like 30 mins lol (dont we love procrastination 😍😍😍)

ANYWAYS. not proofread but hope yall like it!!

my entry for day 4 of @starfallweek <3

ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Sometimes, Y/n had learned, the cold that seeped into her bones was not always a bad thing.

Sometimes, instead of the cold heralding an impending arrival of doom, the feeling grounded her. It made her focus on getting herself warm and ignore the nervousness spreading through her veins like venom.

On the evening of starfall, it was the giddiness of finally having her mate to herself that induced the feeling.

For months now, Y/n had felt like she had been waiting for this very day. The two had barely been mated for six months before the high lord had him deployed at the outskirts of a city on another continent, one too far for Azriel to be able to winnow or fly home easily. And so Y/n had endured, written letters that barely got a response, usually two sentences detailing his health, inquiring about hers, and a small, little promise at the end, telling her he’d be back soon.

The day before starfall, she finally got more.

The cold I’d acquired a week ago is gone. How are you, love? Be ready for starfall. I’m visiting for the night. Though I won’t be able to stay. Let’s make the most of our time together, right?

Yours,Azriel.

She hadn’t been able to sit still for more than a few moments since she had received the letter. Nerves made her jittery, her heartbeat erratic at any given moment.

Most of her day had passed making cookies, the same ones she had baked the day they had accepted the bond. It would be a nice touch, she hoped, for their first starfall together. It gave her a reprieve from her thoughts too, from the constant buzzing in her head. It gave her something to do with her hands, gave her something to focus on.

Just before night dawned, the table was spread with aromatic foods, all his favourites, and desserts. He had a sweet tooth, something Y/n adored. She was dressed up too, hands on her hips, surveying the sparse ornaments she had decorated the space with.

It was perfect for the two of them, she thought.

The sun set. Moon rose.

Candles were lit, the faelight enhancing the soft glow.

And yet, the one who Y/n waited for didn’t arrive.

But.. she had waited four months.

One hundred and twenty one days.

Two thousand nine hundred and twenty hours.

Another hour of wait wouldn’t kill her.

She glanced out the window. No trace of shadows.

And another hour.

Y/n picked up a book, having covered the feast she had prepared.

And one more.

Starfall was almost about to begin.

Finally, the sound of wings descending stole her attention, and Y/n was out of her seat and opening the door before she could even think about it.

"A… Cassian?"

The general smirked. "Oh don’t look so disappointed. Any other day, I’d be sobbing if you greeted me with that look."

Y/n straightened her shoulders, pushing a smile onto her face. "I’m sorry! It’s just- I didn’t expect you-"

"Oh hush. I was just teasing." His smile softened as he took a step onto the porch, his eyes moving behind her, taking in the decorations inside. His brows furrowed. "Were you… expecting someone?"

Y/n tucked her hair behind her ear. "Az. He said he’d be home for starfall."

Cassian’s eyes widened with understanding and something close to…pity? "Oh. He didn’t tell you that we were meeting at the river house?"

Y/n blinked in confusion. "He… is at the river house?"

Cassian nodded matter of factly. "He was asking about you."

Her heart dropped a little, yet she ducked her head, a bashful smile on her face. "I- I must  have misread his letter. I-"

"It’s okay. Happens sometimes. Come, he’s waiting. Let me take you." His voice was gentle, understanding, like he knew she was lying. She had not misread the letter. After all, there weren’t enough words to mis-read. She had just assumed he’d want to spend time with her after months of absence.

Y/n nodded, her shoulders bunching inwards as she closed the door behind her, feeling the scrutinising gaze of the general on her back. His grip was gentle when he wrapped her in his arms, and Y/n could tell he was trying to purposefully look anywhere but her.

In a way, she was glad. She did not want to see the pity in his eyes.

The flight was quick, leaving her with little time with her thoughts. Another blessing on a ruined evening, one she was grateful for.

Soft laughter poured from the sitting room as Cassian landed, and Y/n hurried to find her balance and waited for Cassian to lead the way.

"Well, fly safe, Az."

Y/n’s heart stopped at the high lord’s voice.

Was he already leaving?

There was no response, except a quiet hum that ignited the longing residing within Y/n’s heart that she had tried so hard to hide from her mate, lest he abandon his mission. And if he had to leave now…

Only one glimpse. That’s all she wanted. She wouldn’t stop him. This was important to him.

He was still in his leathers when the main door opened, the siphons on his body glowing like a beacon in the dark night, beckoning Y/n closer like she was prey. His wings were slumped, almost imperceptibly, but Y/n noticed. Not in the way they slumped in her presence, relaxed, but… dejected. That’s what he looked like. Like his expectations for the night weren’t met. And she had an inkling why. After all, she felt the same.

His eyes were rimmed by darkness, the spark in them dimmer as they swept the foyer, waving to his family. And then he turned, his eyes landing on Cassian walking up the steps towards him. Azriel’s brows furrowed.

"Where were you?"

Cassian shrugged, pointing behind him. "Happy starfall, brother."

Azriel’s eyes flared the moment they landed on Y/n

His body jerked lightly, as if it were trying to move towards her without command. The corner of his lips lifted as he began towards where she stood, frozen.

"Thank- thank you." Azriel mumbled softly to Cassian, who nodded, shooting Y/n a teasing smile. Azriel reached out to clasp his brother’s shoulder gratefully before he began down the steps towards her, the door closing behind him and giving the two a reprieve from the curious stares.

"Az." Y/n mumbled, her gaze fixed on his.

"Y/n." He whispered, his eyes tracing over her figure. "I… I’m sorry."

She shook her head. "Did you forget to tell me that we were having dinner with them?"

He swallowed. Nodded. His hands reached out to lightly caress her face, his shadows already twining around her fingers and hair. "I was in a hurry. And excited. And it is no excuse. Forgive me, love."

Y/n wrapped her arms around him, an involuntary sigh escaping her as her figure relaxed into her mate’s body. "It would have been nice knowing I was not going to have my mate all to myself, but… I forgive you, Az. It’s no big deal."

He scoffed, his arms winding tight around her. "The hell it isn’t."

Y/n huffed out a laugh, pulling back to search over his features. "So… you’re leaving now?"

He offered her a gentle smile. "No. Bullied Rhys into letting me stay till tomorrow."

Her heart soared, and she stepped out of his embrace, her hand’s clutching tightly at his forearms. "Really?"

He grabbed her jaw, pulling her into a soft, quick kiss. "Really."

"Let’s go home?"

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[yourlittlebunnyy]

tw: size kink, bit of dacryphilia, overall this is nastyyy

something about having you under him, squirming and helpless, makes azriel go feral.

it's the way you look so small compared to him, the way you are incapable of doing anything because he's just too strong and you can't fight back even if you want to.

the fact is, that no matter what size you are, he is big. all those hours passed in the illyrian camps training pay off. his hand alone could cover a good part of your back. and his cock... it's a struggle everytime, but oh man if he doesn't take pleasure in seeing you struggling.

the first time you two fucked, he had to strech you out with his fingers first. and when he saw how much you struggled with just one of his fingers, he knew it was going to be a tight fit. your walls barely capable of fitting one single finger, he couldn’t imagine how you could have taken his cock, but you did. you take it like a good girl every time.

"you can take it, baby. yeah..." he groans. "you can fucking take it. just like that..." the room is filled with the thick smell of sex, your little cries overpower the sound of skin against skin. you might almost feel embarrassed by the sounds coming out of your lips, but azriel's cock is fucking you so well it sends your brain to mush. zero thoughts behind your pretty eyes.

and azriel loves fucking you. loves watching as your face scrunches in a mixture of pain and pleasure, his cock stretching you out, breaking you in an half. he mutters praises under his breath, his eyes fixated on your tummy that bulges with every thrust, the line of his cock visible through your skin. "look at us, baby. fuck... look at us." he moans, forcing you to look at where your bodies meet. pretty tears stream down your eyes, overstimulation kicking in. you're so full you can feel him in your stomach.

he watches in wonder, completely intoxicated by you and amazed by how much of him you can take.

azriel is addicted to the power he has over you, too. the way he could throw you around like a toy, holding you in place just how he likes.

"c'mon baby, just a little more..." he whispers, supporting you with those strong arms. your back touches his chest, you can feel the wild rhythm of his heart against your back. your legs tremble, exhausted. "give me one more, just one more... i promise."

every time he says something, even tho your head is disconnected, your body can somehow still register his words, your walls clenching automatically around his girth, making him groan.

his hand presses against your tummy, feeling the bulge makes him twitch inside of you. the pressure causes his cock the hit even deeper, hitting spots that make you see stars. "keep clenching around my cock, sweet girl." you sniff, little incoherent prayers fall from your lips. you don't even know what you're begging for. "gods, gonna ruin you for everyone else. you're fucking mine."

main masterlist - azriel masterlist

[serpentandlily]

We Should Stick Together - Azriel x Reader

We Should Stick Together - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel deals with the aftermath of losing his mate. (Part I)

Warnings: angst, death, self-harm

A/n: An epilogue of sorts to Birds of a Feather - Read HERE. Thanks for all your love!! 

• ───────────────── •

I want you to stay

'Til I'm in the grave

'Til I rot away, dead and buried

'Til I'm in the casket you carry

• ───────────────── •

It was dead silent in the Temple. Many fae had come today to pay their respect and to honor the female that died during the war with Koschei—the female that had bravely lured the Death God to his demise and had ultimately met her own in the end.

Azriel had watched the service from the shadows, consumed by his shame and grief. Grief over losing his mate, his best friend, and the chance at a long life with her. Shame from not being able to protect her, from not realizing the mating bond between the two of them until it was far too late and for those last few words he had spoken to her that had only pushed her further into a suicide mission. 

You just want me to continue being miserable. Because that’s always been why the two of us got along so well. Both lonely and so unhappy and now that I’m finally not, you want to drag me back down. Maybe one day someone will love you the way me and Elain love each other. But just because no one does right now, does not mean I have to give up my happiness to keep being miserable with you.

The words haunted him. 

She haunted him. 

Azriel had always been good at ruining his own life. But saying those words was single handedly the worst mistake he had ever made. He hadn't meant them. Of course he hadn't meant them. He loved Y/n. He had since the day he had met her. She was his closest friend—someone he had felt comfortable with. But he had been so blind...blinded by Mor and her vivacious personality...blinded by Elain and the sunshine she had brought to the Night Court. 

All along his mate had been right by his side. The one person he had been searching for all his years of living had been right in front of him and he hadn't even noticed. 

Azriel walked down the long aisle towards the casket that was displayed on the dais. His footsteps echoed in the now silent chamber—not even his own heart beat could be heard. No, his heart had stopped beating the second hers had. 

He fiddled with the flower in his hand, swallowing the tears and sadness that threatened to consume him. He owed her this. He wasn't going to run and hide himself in the shadows as he'd been doing the past week. He needed to be here today. 

Azriel finally stopped in front of the casket and choked on his own bile as the sweet, comforting scent of his mate reached his nose. This felt all too much like a nightmare—one he was stuck in with no way out. Cursed to repeat this day from beginning to end for the rest of his existence. 

She would never stop haunting him.

And he didn't want her to. 

If the ghost of her was the only thing left of his mate in this world, he would cling to it for the rest of his days. 

Azriel placed the spirit lily on top of the casket, the glowing silver petals matched the marble stone. He had searched day and night to find this flower. It was your spirit lily. The one that had bloomed when you died. 

"I'm so sorry," he cried, the tears finally falling. "I'm so sorry." 

He fell to his knees before the casket, one scarred hand sliding along the cold marble as he continued to repeat those words over and over and over again. 

"I am so sorry."

• ───────────────── •

If you go, I'm going too, 

'Cause it was always you, alright

And if I'm turning blue, please don't save me

Nothing left to lose without my baby

• ───────────────── •

Azriel's ears were ringing as he sat at the kitchen table in the cottage that Elain and he had purchased a few weeks before their wedding. It was the first time he had stepped inside since the war with Koschei. It was the first time he'd even been in the Night Court since the loss of his mate and best friend. 

"I understand that you need time to process this, Azriel, I really do," Elain pleaded with him. "But we made vows to each other the day we married. Vows that were supposed to transcend any mating bond." 

Azriel's shadows wailed from the corners of the room. They had started searching for Y/n the day she died and hadn't stopped their cries of panic since then.

It had been a month already.

A whole, entire month had passed by without you. 

And here he was—dark circles lining his eyes, stubble on his hollowed jaw and a song he'd never hear again playing on repeat in his mind. His mating song. His soul's song. His soul that was desperately crying out for its other half. 

"I can't do this, Elain," he spoke, voice hoarse from disuse. "I'm sorry." 

"That's it? That's all you have to say?" Elain questioned, crossing her arms and leaning on the kitchen counter. "Azriel, I rejected my own mate for you. I...I thought we were in this together. We talked about the day you might find your own and we agreed that you'd reject it too." 

"I know," Azriel whispered, his forlorn eyes stuck on the cracks on the floor. "But I didn't know what I was giving up the day we made those vows, Elain. I'm sorry. I truly am. But this...this is different. Lucien was a stranger to you. I thought if I ever met my mate, she'd be a stranger to me as well. But Y/n was my best friend. I've loved her for centuries."

"All that time together and yet, you still never went after her," Elain argued. 

Those words landed a heavy blow in his gut. Elain was right. He had known his mate for years and years and never once did he think of her as anything more than a friend. But that wasn't because of her. No, he had done that to himself. 

He had found a companion with Y/n. She saw him in ways no one else did. He'd be lying if he said that hadn't scared him. For someone to see through him—through all the good and to the rotting, decaying bad that existed in him. He was a monster hiding in plain sight and she had seen that. She had seen all of that and loved him anyway. 

And he had ran from it—from her. It was his own self-hatred that caused him to never see Y/n that way. She reminded him of everything that he was because she was all the same. She was the missing piece to his broken soul. But she had been beautiful in her darkness, hauntingly exquisite in her shadows. And he had been a brutish beast who thought that someone could vanquish the darkness that surrounded him.

What he hadn't realized was that he was never looking for a light to cast the shadows away. Not really. He had been fighting a storm whose tides had only been trying to bring him home to her. To his mate. His soul and heart and mind.  

And now she was gone and she had taken all of his love with her. 

Azriel stood from his seat, barely present in this reality. "I'm sorry, Elain. No words will change my mind nor my heart. I belonged to Y/n. It is only my fault that I never saw that." 

And it was his fault. 

All of it was his fault.  

• ───────────────── •

And I don't know what I'm crying for

I don't think I could love you more

It might not be long, but baby, I

I'll love you 'til the day that I die

• ───────────────── •

"Papa, who is that?"

Nyx's innocent voice caught Rhysand's attention. He followed Nyx's gaze to the corner of the room where Azriel stood, wreathed in his shadows. It had been years since any of them had laid eyes on the elusive shadowsinger. Years since he had been so consumed with his grief that he had disappeared from this court, from Prythian entirely. 

But there was one day he always returned.

The anniversary of Y/n's death. 

Cassian had ambushed him before he made it to her gravesite and all but dragged him to this family dinner. It broke Rhysand's heart that his son didn't recognize one of his uncles.

"That's Azriel," Rhysand answered, clearing his throat. "He's one of your uncles. He used to be around a lot when you were just a baby." 

"Oh," Nyx said, tilting his head as he looked at the shadowsinger. "He seems...sad. Why is he so sad, Papa?" 

Rhysand's heart snapped in his chest. The loss of Y/n had been felt by all of them, of course. But for Azriel...it had destroyed him. None of them had known about the mating bond between the two of them. They had been caught off guard just as much as Azriel had been. Rhys had felt an inkling that she might've been in love with him due to her slowly distancing herself once he and Elain had gone public with their relationship.

He had only thought she needed space and time. He hadn't realized that she had been slowly wilting away. And no one had done a single thing to help her. They had all failed her. 

Sometimes he felt a fire-burning rage towards his brother. He had tried to steer him away from Elain that Solstice night but Azriel hadn't listened to him. Perhaps if he had, Y/n might still be here. Perhaps the mating bond would've finally snapped in place for Azriel. But instead he had stubbornly doubled-down on his feelings for Elain. 

"He lost someone he loved," Rhys choked out. "We all did. Do you remember the stories about Y/n?" 

Nyx clapped his tiny hands together with a smile. Gwyn had made sure that Y/n's name had been honored and recorded in the new books about the war with Koschei. A story that was being passed down through the years. A story Nyx had read time and time again because it was his favorite. 

"She was the warrior who faced a Death God all on her own!" Nyx exclaimed. "She led him straight to the trap where he was ambushed!"

Rhysand smiled, patting his son on the head. It had been too hard to speak her name after her death but slowly, they had all started talking about her more and more. Perhaps it was finally time to tell his son the whole story. Rhys glanced at Azriel again, who was a shell of his former self. Perhaps not the whole story.

"Well, before all of that," Rhys started, "Y/n was our friend..."

• ───────────────── •

Birds of a feather, we should stick together, I know

I said I'd never think I wasn't better alone

Can't change the weather, might not be forever

But if it's forever, it's even better

• ───────────────── •

Azriel was kneeling on the grass, his hands grasping the beautiful stone marker of your gravesite as his eyes combed over the engraving: 

Here lies Y/n

Beloved Daughter, Sister and Friend

The stars will shine brighter with you among them 

Rest in Peace

"I have tried to go on for your sake," Azriel murmured. "Because I know that is what you would've wanted. But I can't...I can't do this without you. I relive every day I've shared with you and it is still not enough to make me miss you any less. I am sorry that it took your death to make me realize just how much you meant to me." 

Azriel had gone through it all in his head time and time again. Always reliving moments where he could've seen what was right in front of him all along yet didn't. Your last words to him constantly looped in his mind. 

"I'll find...you...again. Maybe...maybe I'll be...good enough...then."

Those words could not be more untrue. It was always him who had never been good enough for you. Not you. Never you. You had always been as beautiful as the moon reflected on the sea, alluring and mysterious but peaceful. So peaceful. Despite the darkness the two of you shared, you'd always been so soft and kind to those around you...those who had never felt the kind of pain you'd gone through. 

You lured people in because of your grace. You gave people a safe place to exist in. Your shadows had felt like a warm blanket on a chilly night. Your smile had rivaled the moonlight. 

You had always been far more special than you knew. 

Your mistake had been thinking you could out love his hatred for himself. 

But the mating bond had opened his eyes. Although he had only gotten a few seconds with his mate, its song had told him everything he needed to know. He no longer hated his shadows or the anger he felt inside. He no longer hated himself. How could he? How could he hate himself when part of him was you? 

And he could never hate you. 

Gods, he could never be without you. Your souls were intertwined. 

But living in this world without you was something he could not bear. He was consumed by your memory. He looked for you in everything. In the sea, in the breeze, in the faces of random people, down alleyways and behind every door. But you were not here. You were not here and so he decided he could not be here, either. 

"You said you'd find me again," Azriel whispered. "You said you'd find me again but that is not enough. I cannot sit here and wait for you. I will crawl through Hell and everything that is ready for me when my life ends to find you. This life means nothing to me without you in it. You were my heart, Y/n. I love you. I've always loved you. And I am ready to prove that in our next life."

Azriel slid Truth-teller from its sheath and turned it over in his hand, pointing the blade directly as his own heart. He closed his eyes, tuned out all noise except that of the leaves gently rustling in the breeze. 

"I love you, Y/n," he murmured, gripping the blade tighter. "And I can't wait to see you again." 

His dagger pierced through skin and bone until it reached his heart. 

Until all life was spilled from inside of him. 

Until his final breath carried with the wind. 

Until he could finally see his love again.

• ───────────────── •

I knew you in another life

You had that same look in your eyes

I love you, don't act so surprised

[acotarxreader]

Other Worlds

Azriel x reader

Synopsis: Nesta accidentally pulls you from our realm into theirs and a certain Spymaster can't help but be enamoured.

Original Request: "So I was wondering if you could do like Reader is from the modern world but ends up in the ACOTAR world, and ends up like falling in love with one of batboys."

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of cuts from a fall, my silly wordplay

A/N: I loved writing this, it really had me in my silly sense of humor (at one point Azriel is jealous because he thinks Xanax is a person) and just like also so happy to have written my first request! I hope you like it Anon and tolerate my silliness.

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

“Do you think she’s dead?”

“Hard to say, you fall that height and would expect it” Nesta gently rocked the body back and forth with the sole of her shoe and you groaned.

“This is exactly why you shouldn’t practice without Amren Nesta” Feyre bit out.

“And how was I supposed to know that a human would fall out of the sky? And besides, I did catch her before she hit the ground” Feyre gave a huff to her sister’s bored tone. 

“But not before all the trees Nesta”

“Details, details”

“Rhys is gonna kill you, we have to move her before he finds out” Feyre got level with your marbling body, sticks and leaves sticking out of your hair from your fall through the canopy above. Nesta folded her arms across her chest in protest as Feyre rolled you onto your back, a deep whimper escaping your throat.

“Well she’s not dead”

“For now” Nesta raised an amused eyebrow before rolling her eyes and squatting to lift your feet as Feyre caught your shoulders with her own disapproving look. 

“Her clothes are so odd, is it continent fashion?”

“Hard to say, the material on her legs is so…dense?” Nesta replied, a thumb rolling over the cuff of your jeans, your Doc Marten burying into her sternum.

The two sisters carried your weak body through the hillside towards the cabin they had retreated to for a break from the Illyrians. They reached the humble home after a small uphill climb in the Winter air and gently placed you down on the couch again. The two stood then at the foot of the couch, unsure of what to do next with their new house guest, a thud from outside followed by a swear interrupting their thoughts. 

“Shit it's Azriel with the food supplies you forgot”

“You forgot” Feyre returned

“Whatever, here help me cover her” The two sisters sheathed you in a thick woollen blanket as Azriel pushed through the door causing the females to shoot straight up, standing shoulder to shoulder to try to hide you behind them. 

“Hey, I dropped a bottle of liquor on the path sor- what are you two doing?” he looked suspiciously at the two, plopping the crate of food down by the mouth of the door. 

“Nothing!” their heads snapped to one another at the same time, cursing their simultaneous reply. 

“You two have the same look on your face that Cassian had when he was trying to hide the blood ruby he got from Summer Court after his experiment with arson” he gave a laugh that turned nervous when the females didn’t do the same, another almost panicked glance shared between them. 

“Well if that’s all Az, thanks for coming” Feyre made a quick movement to Azriel, catching his shoulders and turning him back towards the door, Nesta taking a wide stance to try to obscure more of you. 

“Fucking hell” your voice rattled out in pain as you pushed to sit up, the wool sinking down to your lap as your heavy hand found your bleeding head. Azriel’s eyes grew to nearly the width of his skull as he looked frantically between Nesta and Feyre. 

“She did it!” they said in unison again, pointing to one another. 

“Oh Rhys is going to kill you” he whispered angrily, moving to the couch as Nesta sidestepped, throwing an anxious look at Feyre.

“Whe-re the fuck a-m I? What happ-ened?” your hand traced through your thick hair, branches catching in the locks. You squeezed your eyes together tightly, trying to bring the cozy cabin into focus before swinging your legs to the ground and supporting your weight with one arm. Your movement went entirely still as you looked up to find the three members of the Night Court staring at you with matching bewilderment. 

“Am-am I dead?” Your stare landed on Azriel’s wings, conclusions forming quickly.

“No unfortunately not” Feyre elbowed Nesta into the ribs as Azriel analysed your whole figure with his hazel eyes, his shadows swirled around his feet until they wrapped around yours. Your shriek of pure terror caused them to dash back to their master. 

“You're okay!” Azriel tried but it was too late, you were in full panic mode, your system shutting down in utter distress until you felt your blood pressure hit the soles of your feet after hitting the ceiling, sending you into a loss of consciousness. 

“Nice going you big bat, you killed her” Azriel gave a dirty look towards Nesta, her eyes rolling for the thousandth time that day. 

“Send for Madja-”

“-Rhys will kill Nesta for this”

“Well I think her little magic trick will die without her” Feyre folded her arms into her chest, weighing up the options. 

“We could give her the tonic that's here, let her heal without everyone gawking at her at home. I’ll go back with Nesta and explain, by the time we’re here again perhaps she’ll be healed and Amren will be home from her travels and can send her back” 

“And am I supposed to play healer Feyre?”

“Well you have more experience with healing because of the battlefield than us and besides, Nesta isn’t known for her bedside manner” Azriel sighed before rubbing a hand across his face at Feyre’s logic, she showed him how you got here in his head to help her point.

“Okay fine, go but if she dies, I’m not to blame” They nodded in agreement, taking another look at your floppy body before heading for the door with their things, kicking the box of supplies out of the way. 

Azriel lifted your legs slowly back onto the couch before fetching a dish full of mountain water and healing tonic. He hovered the cloth over one of your large gashes that had cut straight through your straight-leg jeans. He looked over your body, unable to hide his curiosity towards the university logo decorating your sweatshirt, the deep purple colouring at the very ends of your hair as well as the multiple pieces of metal piercing through your ear's cartilage. Despite the series of cuts and bruises generously coating you, Azriel believed you might be the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and you were entirely out for the count. 

He sighed, dropping the cloth back into the dish and going to make tea with another healing concoction. He rolled his shoulders back and tucked his wings in as tight as possible to minimise their appearance before gently tapping your shoulder to bring you around. When that didn’t work, he fetched one of Cassian’s training boots and ran it beneath your nose, you stirred immediately. You went to shoot up in shock, his strong steady hand, gently pressing you back down. 

“You’re okay, you…you just fell but you’re okay.” he said as softly as possible, the ease of his voice unable to settle the rising worry across your face. 

“I-I fell?” he gave you a small nod, not entirely a lie he thought to himself. 

“Fucking hell my head-” you once again ran your hands down your face, the dry blood slightly flaking in the movement “-do you have any paracetamol or something?”

“Para-what-almol?” Azriel’s eyebrow raised in question before he reached for the tea he made for you from the small table behind him. You removed your hands from your face and looked towards the squatting Illyrian, taking in the beautiful male in front of you, pain being replaced by embarrassment. You pushed up despite his disapproval look, returning to the same position you were in before you fainted.

“Sorry, I should-I should go? Emm…where are we?” 

“This is Velaris”

“Velentia?! How did I get here?!” You shot to your feet in surprise, the blood rushing and sending you shakenly back to the soft fabric almost as quickly. 

“No, I’m not sure where that is but you’re not there, here take this” he passed the cup with a half laugh and you looked down unconvinced. 

“No thanks man, not here to be poisoned” Azriel scoffed in slight offense as he watched you wince to put it back on the small table. You look down at your freshly ripped jeans, your fingers tracing the fresh wounds. 

“I’m Azriel” His voice brought your eyes back to him as he passed you the soaked cloth, allowing you to run it over the gashes. 

“YN” You gave a small smile back, fighting the singe of the elixir. 

“YN? That’s an odd name”

“You say that as if there’s an Azriel at every petrol station in town” You half laugh, more questions entering Azriel’s head than answers. Azriel rose to his feet and headed into the kitchen with the abandoned groceries as you finished with your leg, starting on your forehead. 

“No paper here or something?” Azriel looked towards you as you took the cabin in in all its glory, Feyre’s artwork the object of your marvelling. 

“They’re Feyre’s, she was here earlier. She went a bit mad up here when she found out Rhysand was her mate”

“Mate? Oh she’s like Australian?”

“What? You speak in riddles” he laughed, joining your side on the couch with his own cup of tea. You looked at it with an air of hunger, not unnoticed by the Spymaster, he looked from the cup to your face. 

“You can drink it YN, it’s not poisoned, here look I’ll take a sip” You watched him take a taste before offering it back to you where you took it from him, its fresh floral taste having an almost reviving effect, you drank it almost one gulp. 

“Now, I’m afraid you can’t go home just y-”

“Fuck I knew it! What’s in this tea?! I’m being kidnapped!” You shot towards the door, almost knocking the dish of water all over the floor, sending Azriel swearing. You reached your exit and with a wave of his hand, Azriel locked it from the inside.

“YN, no one is going to hurt you, you just, this is going to be hard to explain, one of my…friends brought you here by accident” You still tried to pull on the knob of the door, glancing from it to Azriel as he stood to close the distance.

“Stay back! I know self-defence!” Azriel couldn’t hold his laugh at the small human girl before him threateningly looking at him. He went to catch your arm softly, only for you to send your heavy-booted Doc straight into his instep, followed by the base of your palm up and into his nose, the shock of your sudden movement catching him off guard. He groaned slightly reaching for his nose as it bled, missing your hand reaching for the keys in your pocket and the mace on the keychain. Azriel roared at the feeling of the spray of chemicals burning into his eyes, sending him onto the floor writhing in pain.

“Fuck! Fine! Die in the snow!” He shouted out, waving his hand and releasing the door. You hardly heard him, whipping the door back as the now night air lashed in near-freezing gails of icy snow. You fought the tornado of air as you put the oak door between you and it, sliding down the wood to the ground, your body screaming in pain still from the fall. Azriel sat up, still blinking hard to clear the burning liquid. 

“And you thought I’d be the one to use poison” A breathy laugh left him as his red eyes watered and you found yourself matching his smile.

“I promise I won’t kill you, if you don’t kill me” he gave you a genuine look and for some reason you felt such a wave of trust hit you. You agreed, too tired to run from him or face the snow and you rolled your head along the door before looking back at the Illyrian, tracing your eyes along his linen shirt and leather pants

“Are you in a motorbike gang or something?”

“Gods I hope you start making sense soon” he pushed up from the ground, doing his best to not untuck his wings for balance. You looked up at him and reluctantly took the hand he offered, noting the deep scaring covering them like burls on a tree. He followed your eyes to his hands before he gingerly took them back to replace them across his still-stinging eyes. Azriel threw himself back down on the couch and you followed suit.

“I’m sorry about the-” you gestured to your own eyes and he gave a small laugh.

“It’s okay, I’m impressed a human would have such speed, to be honest”

“Human? And what are you a fish?” 

“No” he didn’t return your laughing tone, only reaching for your disregarded cloth and placing it over his eyes. Your hand ran down the side of your jeans until you retrieved your phone, the screen fully destroyed from your dance with the trees. 

“Great” you sighed, throwing it down on the table, Azriel watching the action. 

“Nesta couldn’t save your mirror from the fall?”

“Nesta? Rhysand? Azriel? No one called like Dave around here?” 

“Not really the fashion in Prythian” he smiled.

“Prythian? Like from the children's stories?” you chuckled at him.

“No, Prythian like the realm” he tossed the cloth back into the dish, the red in his eyes subsiding. 

“My mom used to tell me stories about Prythian and these like great bat boy warriors with these really big-big-win…” you trailed off as you looked to see the shape of Azriel’s wings over his shoulder. 

“Really big? Well, thanks for the flattery” He laughed aloud as your face greyed. 

“Fuck, it’s happened, studying for my physics final has finally driven me insane, this is all in my head, a stress-induced dream” Azriel reached to your thigh and gave you a gentle pinch following your matter-of-fact speech, causing you to flinch a little.

“Okay so not a dream…”

“Not a dream, my brother’s lovely ma-wife’s sister, pulled you through a sort of rip in the realm and landed you here…not very carefully might I add” He said softly so as to not have you black out again, you nodded very very slowly to his words. You faced away from him, fixing your stare on the smashed phone, you thought of your physics lectures. The theories of tears in the fabric of time being possible, the possibility of alternative realities, the possibility of unexplored realms before settling finally that this wasn’t a possibility, this was a reality. 

“So, okay, right-” you bit your lip, working through the thought, Azriel trying to push the shiver down his spine away at that action “-okay cool, right, so I’m gonna need like an excuse note or something for the exam and then, right, cool, Xanax maybe”

“Is Xanax a friend of yours who can help?” Your head shot towards Azriel at his genuine question and you let a roar of laughter leave you. 

“Definitely although I don’t think they’re here somehow” you offered with a smirk, Azriel feeling a weird sense of jealousy at not being the object of this smile. 

“Well, we’ll make do and try to get you home” You nodded sheepishly to him.

“Do you not want to go home YN? You seemed pretty eager when you tried to break my nose earlier” he smiled and you gently knocked into his shoulder playfully. 

“I mean…I’m not in a rush to get back to the test” 

“Okay well, it will be a day or two before my friends are back and Rhys has calmed down over Nesta bringing you to greet us so you’ll have time. As for now, care to have something to eat? You can help me make it so we both know neither is trying to poison the other” he gave a light laugh while standing again, and you followed him along to the kitchen. 

For the rest of the night, the both of you spent your time cooking, laughing and teaching one another about your worlds. Azriel explained the Courts, his role and his family’s as well as giving a shortened version of their relationships with one another. In return, you told him about your studies, what Instagram was and how democracy works. Azriel wasn’t sure he’d ever felt such strong feelings towards someone he’d just met before and it confused him almost as much as what microwaves were. 

“Here you go, a glass of our best liquor, you deserve it” Azriel passed you the tumbler as you sat cross-legged on the couch beneath the woollen blanket you were previously hidden under.

“Oh slay”

“No, I didn’t kill anything to get this for you” You almost choked on the drink with the laugh that left you at his confused words. 

“No Azriel it’s like-actually maybe I’ll explain drag culture to you another day” He nodded eagerly at the prospect of learning more, sinking into the couch alongside you with his own drink. 

“So have you girlf-mate type person like Feyre and Rhys?”

“No, no girlf-mate type person-” he teased back and you sighed, clipping him with the pillow from under your elbow “-do you?”

“Nope, to be honest, I don’t think I’ll be missed from home, I lost my parents young and never really found my flock at college either” you shrugged. 

“How could anyone not miss you YN?”

“You have to say that, you’re my captor”

“Actually Nesta captured you, I’m just minding you-” You returned his smirk “-speaking of which, time for sleep, tomorrow they should be back to figuring getting you home for your exam” you whined like a misbehaving child but you’d been fighting off sleep since dinner so agreed with him.

He lead you to his room in the cabin before offering you one of his clean linen shirts and leaving you to sleep. You practically swam in the fabric, with no wings or Illyrian muscles to fill it out, feeling the same way about the colossal bed that you slipped into. You looked up at the ceiling where Feyre had painted delicate little consolations, the day washing over you, had all your prayers finally been answered? You smiled as you gave into the sleep that hunted you all day.

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

“We are sending her back!”

“Amren can’t guarantee she’ll end up in her realm, she’s not going anywhere!” You wiped the sleep from your eyes, Azriel's blunt tone waking you from the best sleep of your life.

“She can’t stay here Az!”

“And what if she ends up somewhere a lot worse, she coul-oh YN you’re awake” You looked from the doorway between the two gorgeous Illyrians. 

“This is Rhysand”

“Oh, your majesty I suppose” you did a half bow after stepping closer to the males, a small laugh leaving Rhysand at the action. 

“Don’t flatter him YN”

“YN, flatter me if that would make you happy” he grinned, Azriel rolling his eyes. 

“You’re exactly as described” You shrugged at him, settling down on the couch between where the lllyrians stood

“I would like to apologies for Nesta’s…interuption to your day to day life and more so for…probably being all Nesta when you woke up” Rhysand offered, Azriel folding his arms tightly across his chest as he inspected you closely, you in his shirt may now be his favourite sight. Rhysand watched the slight change in his brothers demanour at your presence, this increasing his worry. 

“Now YN, it’s time we get you back to-”

“-I heard you guys say you can’t say for certain I’ll get home” you cut across Rhysand, his eyes darting back to you, Azriel trying to bury his smirk.

“I’m confident we know how to get you there”

“Okay cool, so Feyre will accompany me” 

“What?” Rhysand bit out.

“Well its just if you’re so sure you’ll get me in the right spot, surely you’ll have no issue allowing Feyre to accompany me yanno, since you’re confident” Azriel lost his battle in holding in his smirk. 

“She’s got you there Rhys, if one of us wouldn’t do it, why should she?”

“Because she doesn’t belong here” Rhysand chewed out, locking eyes with his brother.

“She is sitting right here and she isn’t going near any wormhole or whatever if you’re not sure I’d get there safe” You forced his attention back to your with your sharp words.

“Who said anything about worms?”

“YN has a habit of speaking in riddles” Azriel sat alongside you, giving you a somewhat proud smile, his arm instinctively resting on the back of the couch behind you. 

“YN, I’m sure you’re great but I can almost guarantee that our world is vastly different to yours, it’s a lot to take on for your mortal mind, perhaps we could arrange a home for you in the mortal realm?” you tilted your head side to side weighing up his offer before Azriel replied for you.

“I can teach her our ways, I can school her like you did Feyre” Rhysand sighed out but couldn’t deny the way Azriel looked at you and you at him was deeply familiar to him. 

“Fine, a week, you may stay a week and if it doesn’t work out then the mortal realm it is, we’ll set you up with a nice manor and you’ll live very comfortably”

“Like Downton Abbey?” you teased despite your audience.

“I’m not familiar with that region”

“Is that where the drag culture is?”

“Of sorts” you laughed at Azriel and his quizzical words, his hazel eyes so enamoured by the sight, further cementing Rhysand’s suspicions. Rhysand sighed deeply ensuring you agreed to the terms and to be taught by Azriel before he left to continue to reprimand Nesta. 

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

Over the next week it became abundantly clear that despite being from two different realms, you and Azriel were made for one another. You both had the same humor and intelligence as well as thirst for knowledge. You continued to teach him about your home and he taught you about the new world around you and the more you learned the less you wanted to leave. On your first day in Velaris, you thought your heart may burst with the growing love for the place and even more so for your guide. 

“And then Cass completely blew the building up, I thought the vein was going to burst in Rhysand’s head” Azriel tilted his head back and laughed loudly while you both crossed the bridge of the Sidra, your last official day in the Night Court before you had to decide. Somewhere along the way, Azriel and your hands became interlocked and forgot to separate.

“You live such insane lives here”

“And you could too” he stopped you in your tracks, his eyes warming over your body as he looked down on you, the sinking sun reflecting off of the snow. 

“Maybe with less arson though” he added with a grin you loved so much. 

“Az, I’d love to stay but-”

“-No, just say ‘Az I’d love to stay’ and leave it there” he fought his faltering smile as you looked down at his shoes, both hands held in his now. 

“But Az-” you couldn’t find the end of the sentence, the words lost on Azriel’s lips as they met yours with such searing passion. His mouth slotted over yours with such a perfect fit it was like they were always meant to be there. You stood further on your toes to deepen the kiss as his hands traced around the nape of your neck and yours landed around his torse. You separated when the need for air almost matched the need to never let go. 

“I-I can’t remember the end of my last thought” you laughed lightly and he grinned. “So you’ll stay?”

“I don’t think I was ever going to be able to walk away from you…well not without mace anyways” you smiled back into another kiss, the second of many many more.

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

Let Me Know What You Think Friend!?

Part Two

[mellowmusings]

Pretty Princesses | fluff

Azriel x reader A/N- thank you so much for a 100 followers love you all so much, this is the best birthday present ever <33 also my requests are open for a 100 followers celebration so ask away and let me know if you wanna be tagged also i stole inspo from the rocks video Warnings- none just a lot of fluff

Azriel was a force of nature. A warrior whose name sent shivers through the spines of enemies and allies alike. The darkness clung to him, not as a curse, but as an extension of his very being. His mastery over the shadows was unparalleled, his blades quicker than the eye could track. No one controlled him, no one commanded him—except perhaps Rhysand, but even then, it was a tenuous thing, a bond of trust rather than obedience.

There wasn’t a battlefield he hadn’t conquered, a war he hadn’t outlived. The mere mention of his name was enough to strike fear into the hearts of those who opposed him. He was lethal, ruthless, a whisper of death carried on the wind. But time, it seemed, was the one thing even the great Shadowsinger could not fight.

Three Centuries Later

The once-feared warrior now sat cross-legged on a plush rug in the middle of his home, his usually sharp, scarred hands now adorned with glittery rings and sticky, colorful paint. His daughters, twin toddling whirlwinds of mischief and delight, were giggling as they draped him in layers of fabric, a tiara slightly too small perched atop his head.

“Papa, you have to drink your tea,” the older of the two, barely three years old, declared with all the authority of a queen addressing her court. She held out a tiny teacup filled with absolutely nothing, but her golden-brown eyes—so much like her mother’s—shimmered with expectation.

Azriel, the mighty warrior, the deadly Shadowsinger, lifted the cup delicately between his fingers, took an exaggerated sip, and sighed as if it were the finest wine in all of Prythian. “Exquisite, my lady,” he said gravely, bowing his head slightly. “A most delightful brew.”

The younger one, barely two and still unsteady on her chubby feet, clapped her hands in delight. “More tea, Papa!” she insisted, lifting her own cup towards him. A tiny stuffed bear sat in her lap, watching with button-eyed approval.

From the doorway, you watched it all unfold, barely holding back laughter. Your husband—your terrifying, untouchable, deadly husband—was currently covered in pink and purple scarves, fake pearls draped around his neck, and a large butterfly sticker plastered to his forehead. And yet, he looked more content than you had ever seen him.

Azriel caught your eye, his shadows curling lazily around him, brushing against his daughters like affectionate pets. There was warmth in his gaze, a depth of love that no one else had ever been privy to.

“You dare laugh at a princess?” he rumbled, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrayed him.

You grinned, stepping into the room. “Not at a princess,” you corrected, moving to press a kiss to his cheek. “Just at my husband, the prettiest warrior in all of Prythian.”

Your daughters squealed with glee at the declaration, their little hands eagerly adding more adornments to their father’s unwilling but unresisting form. Azriel simply sighed, resigned, and let them.

The feared Shadowsinger, tamer of shadows, wielder of truth and steel, had been utterly and completely conquered by two tiny, giggling girls.

“Papa, you need more sparkles!” your eldest announced, furrowing her tiny brows in concentration as she grabbed a small container of shimmery powder from her collection of “makeup.”

Azriel arched a brow, but he did not protest as she dusted his cheeks with the glitter. Instead, he feigned a dramatic gasp, touching his face. “I feel positively radiant,” he declared, making both girls shriek with laughter.

The younger one, now sitting snugly in his lap, reached up with her tiny fingers and patted his cheek. “Pretty Papa,” she murmured approvingly.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter anymore, stepping forward and taking a seat beside him. “I think they’ve truly transformed you,” you mused, reaching up to gently adjust his tiara. “The mighty Shadowsinger, reduced to a glittering spectacle.”

Azriel hummed in agreement, leaning in slightly as you ran your fingers through his dark hair. “And yet, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

Your heart swelled at his words, at the sheer adoration in his voice as he looked at his daughters. These two little girls had him wrapped around their fingers, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Papa, we have one more thing,” your eldest declared, grabbing something from her toy chest. She and her sister exchanged a mischievous look before presenting it with a flourish—a pair of delicate, pastel wings meant for playing dress-up.

Azriel blinked, glancing at the small, feathery appendages. “You wish to give me wings?” he asked, amusement dancing in his voice.

The younger one nodded eagerly. “Pretty wings, like Mama’s!”

You stifled a laugh as you saw the seriousness in their eyes, their tiny hands already fastening the wings to his back. And just like that, the mighty warrior who had once been feared across battlefields now sat, utterly regal, in a tiara, scarves, glitter, and a pair of tiny, pastel fairy wings.

Azriel sighed dramatically. “I have been defeated.”

Your daughters cheered, climbing into his lap to hug him, their tiny arms wrapping around their “pretty princess” of a father.

You simply smiled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I think you’ve won, actually.”

And as Azriel sat there, holding his daughters close, his shadows curling around all three of you, he knew without a doubt—you were right. @anarchiii @darkbloodsly @sunnyspycat @er1023 @clementine111002 @buubblles @onebadassunicorn @donnadiddadog @ren-ni @lilah-asteria @rcarbo1 @tele86 @sillyfreakfanparty @sopheeg @secretlyhers @isa1b2h3 @readinshadows @thesunloveschips @generalmoonpolice @kathren1sky-blog @willowpains @theravenpheonix26

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Just thinking of tattoo artist!Azriel giving reader slow, deep strokes from behind while he tattoos his bite mark into her shoulder, covering her mouth with his other hand to muffle her gasps and moans because they're in the shop during hours, occasionally whispering in her ear.

"Good girl."

"You're takin' me so well."

"You like that, huh?"

"You feel so good."

"Fuck — just like that. . ."

The whole time, he's struggling to maintain control and keep his own sounds quiet so they didn't get caught in the act. . . But the thought of getting caught made it all the more fun — more thrilling for him. . .

And then when he cums (after reader, obviously), he doesn't pull out. He makes sure he stays in, as deep as he comfortably could be, while he finishes the rest of the tattoo.

*Throws phone into the closet and runs away.*

[remember-that-one-blog]

You're Mine

Azriel x reader

~

You threw back another drink at Rita’s trying to drown the way you were feeling. You sighed as you leaned against the bar. You watched as Azriel leaned into Elain to make sure she was okay. You felt your heart crack a bit. You made sure your walls were up mentally and physically. You didn’t want anyone else to know how you felt about the shadowsinger. Mor was the only one that knew and you wanted to keep it that way. You closed your eyes centering yourself. When you opened them again, you locked eyes with those hazel ones you have loved for the last two hundred years. You gave him a smirk as you turned for your next drink. You felt a presence beside you.

“How are you holding up?” Mor leaned against the bar with you.

“I’m fine, Mor. Nothing a little of this can’t take care of.” You swirled the amber liquid around in the glass. Mor rolled her eyes at you. 

“Maybe, you should tell him?” You felt yourself freeze. She was the only one that knew the mating bond snapped, for you anyway. She was there when it happened. Your jaw tensed. 

“I’m not telling him.”

“Why?”

“Look at him over there with her. He’s infatuated, he looks like he’s in love and in the last three hundred years I’ve been with you all he’s never looked at anyone else like that before. Anyone.” Mor pursed her lips. She was about to say something when she saw it about the time you felt it. A shadow wrapping around your ankle. You smiled a bit. You let the shadow slither up to your shoulder. 

“Hello there. I’m fine, you can tell him.” You gently caressed the little shadow before it scurried back down your side and over to the shadowsinger. You looked over to find shock on his face. Did he not know one of them came over to you? You quirked your eyebrows but quickly turned back to your conversation with Mor. “Anyway, I’m gonna go. I leave in the morning.”

“Leave? Where are you going?” You downed the rest of your drink before you answered her.

“The continent. Rhys wants an eye on the queens since we haven’t heard from them since before the war with Hybern.” Mor’s eyes widened.

“Are you going alone?” You nodded. She let out a scoff. “I can’t be here right now, Mor. Not while all of this is going on. I need to go somewhere, do something. I won’t be gone long, just a day.” She sighed. She knew.

“Doesn’t mean I like it. Just be safe, don’t die.” You laughed at her. She gave you a smile back.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” You gave her a small hug and made your way out of Rita’s. You were halfway down the street when you heard, and felt, a gust of wind.

“You’re leaving?” Shock covered your features as the shadowsinger appeared behind you. 

“Jeez, Az, a little warning please.” He waited for you to answer his question. “Yes, I’m going home.” He gave you a look. You sighed before answering him. “I leave in the morning. I’ll only be gone a day, two at the most.”

“Where?”

“The continent.”

“It’s dangerous.” You tilted your head at him.

“I’ll be fine, Az. You’re the one who trained me. I’ll be fine.” Azriel didn’t seem so sure. You giggled as one of his shadows wrapped up your arm. You smiled down at it. “Tell him I’m going to be fine.” The little shadow seemed to disagree as well. You let it wrap around the hand you held up to it. You let it wrap around your hand and slide around for a while until it seems to be content. 

Azriel was looking on in awe. He didn’t even ask his shadows to do that. They did it of their own accord. He had never seen that happen until tonight when you were at the bar with Mor. The way you giggled as it wrapped around your hand made his heart squeeze in a good way. Once his shadow seemed pleased it slithered back down your arm, leg, then scurried across the small space between the two of you.

“Are you sure you don’t need anyone to go with you?” He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of you going that far alone made his entire body ache. You reached out, giving his arm a squeeze.

“Az, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” That signaled the end of the conversation. Azriel sent one of his shadows with you to make sure you made it home. You let out a loud laugh, “Thank you, Az. Goodnight.” The shadowsinger didn’t reply. He just waited until you made the short walk back to your apartment.

~

You were not fine. Someone had tipped the queens off about your arrival. You didn’t know who it was, but you sure as hell were going to find out. You were taking a quick breather in a cave that seemed to be safe. That’s when you felt it. A little shadow crawling from behind your wing. You let out a sigh of relief. 

“Hey there. He just couldn’t stand that I was going alone could he.” The shadow seemed to do a little dance confirming you were right. “I need you to tell him I was ambushed. I don’t know who did it and it could be more than a day until I’m back. He cannot come and cannot send anyone. I’ll make it back.” The little shadow slithered down to your hand and wrapped itself around it. You gave it a smile. “I will make it back.” It seemed to hear the conviction in your voice. It seemed to hug your hand before it scurried away. 

You took a deep breath steeling yourself for what you were to do next.

~

Azriel’s shadow came back to him. He was surprised considering he hadn’t sent any out today. Once back it told him what happened. He swore the entire world stopped at that moment. You were ambushed and you told him to stay away. The worst part is, he knew you were right.

“Dammit.” He made his way to Rhys’s office at the House of Wind to relay what he found out. He did send a few shadows out to see if he could find who ratted you out. Azriel opened the door to find Rhys and Cassian already there. “We have a problem.”

“What is it?” Azriel explained everything that happened to you and how you were holed up in a cave, safe, for now. 

“Shit.” Cassian was up pacing before he even finished and Rhys had his head in his hands. 

“What was this for anyway?”

“I needed someone to go see if there was any movement from the queens. I was going to ask you, but she volunteered.” Azriel didn’t know how to feel about that. 

“Why would she do that?” Rhys and Cassian leveled him with a stare.

“For a spymaster, you sure are dense.” Rhys threw a hard stare in Cassian’s direction.

“For the love of the Mother, Rhys, I can’t not tell him at this point.” 

“Tell me what?” Cassian and Rhys shared a conversation he wasn’t privy to. Rhys finally relented.

“She’s your mate, Az.” Az felt his heart drop. 

“What?” Rhys and Cassian sighed. You didn’t know Rhys and Cassian knew the bond snapped into place for you. They had sensed something was different. It didn’t take long for them to put the pieces together, although you hid it very well. They let the information sink in for the spymaster. 

“She volunteered because of the way you’ve been stuck to Elain’s side.” All three turned to see Mor standing in the doorway. She wasn’t sure if they had put the pieces together, but she knew Rhys, it wouldn’t take him long. Azriel felt his chest tighten. Yes, he had been by Elain’s side the last few months, but she didn’t see him that way, she just needed a friend. 

“That’s not, there’s nothing between Elain and me.” 

“It didn’t seem that way, especially to her. I tried to get her to tell you, but she thought you wanted Elain. So, she took this mission to get away, even if it was just for a day.” Azriel had no idea. Didn’t even get a hint that the two of you were mates. It made sense though, the way he was around you. He seemed more open with you, it was easier to joke with you. The way his shadows were drawn to you. It made so much sense. The other three stood there watching as all the pieces fell in place for the spymaster. Azriel opened his mouth to say something when one of his shadows wrapped around his ear. 

She’s hurt. 

Azriel stood up ready to go find you when they heard a commotion in the hallway. The four of them ran out to see what was going on. They followed Naula down the corridor, she led them to the balcony outside the dining area. There you were a crumpled heap on the ground.

~

You heard your name. You looked up to see Azriel, Mor, Rhys, and Cass running toward you. Azriel reached you first. He hooked one arm around your back and the other under your knees lifting you off the ground.

“What a welcome committee.” You rasped. You were breathing hard, too hard. Az watched the pain flash across your face. Your hand gripped Az’s shoulder a little harder. One of his shadows curled around your hand. You managed to smile a little. “Hello again.”

“Where are you hurt? What happened?” You closed your eyes, taking a breath before you replied. 

“My wings.” The four of them looked to see the ends of your wings torn and many different spots. You heard Rhys yell for someone to get a healer. “I found out who did it. They won’t be a problem anymore.” Azriel couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face.

“That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of your head. Azriel carried you to a room, there was a couch. That’s all you could manage to comprehend through the pain. Azriel laid you down on the couch and immediately kneeled down beside you. He grabbed your hand. He didn’t let go. Not when Madja arrived. Not when you nearly passed out from the pain. He was there. Never letting go. Never leaving your side.

~

Madja said to rest for a few days. It was currently day four of healing and you had managed to talk Madja into letting you go home. You were rummaging through your kitchen when you felt it. You giggled as the shadow wrapped itself around your ankle and made its way up your side and perched on your shoulder.

“You can come in, Az. It’s unlocked.” A second later you heard your apartment door open. You turned to see him bringing a couple of bags in. “What’s all this?”

“A few groceries. I thought you might be getting low.”

“Thanks, Az.” You started helping him unload the bags. You were putting them away, his shadow still perched on your shoulder.

“They don’t do that with anyone else.” You turned, giving him a questioning look. “My shadows. They don’t do that with anyone.”

“You haven’t sent them?” Azriel shook his head. “Even the one that was with me on my mission?” 

“I didn’t send it. I didn’t even know it was gone until it came back to me.” The shock was evident on your face. You had assumed he sent it. You looked at the little shadow still perched on your shoulder. “They only do that with you.”

You felt your heart stutter at the look he gave you. That’s when he felt it. The bond snapped into place. It had snapped for you long ago, but you could finally feel him. Everything. 

“Az,” you didn’t know what else to say as he made his way to stand in front of you.

“You’re mine.” You felt the bond glow within you, but you had to ask.

“What about Elain?”

“What about her?” He didn’t mean it in a mean way, but he wanted you. 

“You two just seemed so close.” You didn’t know how else to say it. 

“I don’t want her. I’ve loved you for so long. I just didn’t think I was enough for you. I’m a-” you placed your finger on his lips. You knew what he was about to say. He was about to repeat what every Illyrian warrior has called him for years. You weren’t having any of it.

“Don’t you dare. You are everything, Az. Everything.” You cupped his face and watched as his shadow crawled across your arm to join the others. You stared into those hazel eyes, losing yourself. You took a deep breath knowing what you were about to do would make this final.

“Would you like something to eat?” Azriel’s eyes widened. He knew you were mates, but he was still unsure if you would accept the bond. 

“Really?”

“Really.” Finally he slotted his lips against yours. You felt everything in the kiss. You were his and he was yours.

[imaginesmai]

Breeding tonic gone wrong - Azriel

This got out of hand, don't want to label it as Dark!Azriel since it's a breeding drug but it's darkish. Wonderful @daycourtofficial wrote this fic and I thought I could try the breeding potion since I've read fics about it before. But I wanted it to be a little dark, not just smut. Here is the result!

Plot: during a trip to the Illyrian mountains, Azriel and you discover a cabin with all types of monstrosities. One of them ends up in Azriel's blood system, a breeding tonic, which no male nor female has survived before.

Warnings: it is consensual but the consent is given in a life-death situation for both characters. Rough, unhinged Azriel smut. Sex pollen fic.

Illyrians were the worst males alive, and if it was up to you, you would blow those mountains down until none of them breathed. Proof of their cruelty was the lab you were investigating right then, that had installed a permanent frown on your face.

The silence of the room was only broken by the occasional scoffs from your partner, who seemed to have the same feelings about the work done in there. With a half-limp from the previous fight against the guards, you let your eyes travel between the different labeled bottles and horror at their uses.

Pain extension for wing clipping – prevents the muscles from reattaching

Numbing lotion – apply in small quantities before perpetration, makes the female stop squirming

Pleasure beverages – draws the pleasure out of fae 1 and inducts it into fae 2. Still testing

All of them were horrific and terrible, and all of them had been tested. You had heard rumors about hat place before, but Azriel and you didn’t have a real location until now. The twenty males that had died protecting that secret were proof of how sicked that twisted that place was.

“It feels wrong to be here” Azriel muttered from the other side of the room, holding up a bunch of vials in his scarred hands. “How long have it taken them to fill all this up?”

“They are all against… females. Years of researching into their pain, uses and worth” you commented too, your voice only a whisper. “And they have been tested. Approved”

“Let’s finish this and get out of here”

You could feel Azriel’s shadows too exploring the room, and for a moment, you gave yourself a minute to think about possibilities. You had also been raised by Illyrians, in the mountains, yet had been lucky enough to be born in Windhaven. To live next to Rhys’ mother’s cabin and become friends with Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand.

To have one of them as your kind-of-lover, at least more than friends. Everyone knew that you and the shadowsinger were something, and few males approached you when you visited the camps.

You had been lucky, because you could have ended just like those girls that had been used like guinea pigs. The hairs on your arms rose up just at the idea, and you promised yourself you would find each and every participant and tear them into pieces.

“Y/N” Azriel called out of you, and you turned around. “Watch this”

The tremble in his voice, the break from his usual stoic voice, was enough to tear you away from your own worries and thoughts. You replaced his place in front of a worn-down table, full to the brim. Azriel stepped back until he was behind you, until he was between you and the open space.

It didn’t go unnoticed.

You looked over to the notebook he was holding open, old and used. There were different handwritings, names of women crossed out and names of males half-erased. On top, a blank space for the name they would come up with.

In the desk, you spotted several vials with a blueish, bright liquid, some of them empty. The handwritten was tough to read, but before you could squint your eyes, Azriel summed it up for you.

“They were testing breeding accelerations” he explained, the edge of his wing curling around your smaller form. “So far, they hadn’t had results. All the participants died, both males and females”

You held your breath as you read some of the details. Fucked to death seemed to be repeated a lot. Was it a game, to them, the lives of so many women that were dragged into their sick experiments? The miracle of life that they perverted so often?

Azriel shifted closer to you on instinct, probably thinking about the same options you were pondering about. His warm chest against your back made you close the notebook with little care. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, feel pity for those males who had died raping innocent females, probably sold by their own father.

The best thing you could do now was try and find their corpses, give them a proper burial and incinerate the whole place down.

Scarred fingers brushed yours softly, like a gosht touch. Azriel wasn’t a verbal lover, not a public one. He preferred to stay quiet and hidden, and you liked him just like that. Only with your fingers tangling, you expressed the horrors in that poisoned cabin.

You turned around, intending to give him a small smile and maybe make it seem real, but you caught movement from the corner of your eyes. The troubled look on Azriel eyes had him too far away to notice the threat, and you only had time to squeeze your joined hands before he was pushed into you.

With a considerate force, you both collided against the work desk and tumbled into the ground with its content.

“Bitches” the incomer groaned, the edge of his knife breaking the skin of Azriel’s forearm. “You’re all bitches, bastards”

“Motherfucker”

You cursed when your hands touched something sticky. The attacker’s knife scurried down Azriel’s arm when your knife drove through his head. A sickening crunch of blood, bone and brain echoed through the cabin. Azriel had kept his body as an iron shield around you, but you had managed to drag one of your curved weapons and kill the male.

He hissed when the body fell against his back, elbows crumbling under the unexpected weight. You fell back against the sticky substance with a grimace, and helped Azriel push the dead body off.

“That was unfortunate” he complained, rolling off you. “I liked my new jacket”

“And I liked my knife clean, I had just wiped off the blood” you rolled your eyes, getting up and offering him a hand. “Even in death, they cause problems”

Azriel smiled at you when you helped him up, and while he readjusted his weapons, you looked down to the ground.

Papers and empty vials were scattered around. Most of the blood was from the corpse of the ground, which you realized, was one of the males you had thought you killed. One of his wings was missing, courtesy of Azriel, and he was covered in wounds. The biggest of them, the missing part of his head thanks to your knife.

You were about to comment about Azriel getting sloppy when you heard him suck a breath. His body tensed like an arch bow, one of his hands quickly peeling the leather off his arm.

“What?” you were instantly on him, helping him get a better look at the bleeding cut.

“There’s something here” he answered, and you didn’t miss the edge of panic in his usual calm voice. “Something is stuck. In the back”

“Must be a splinter” you walked to his side and peeled the rest of the hard training leathers. “Overgrown baby bat”

He didn’t laugh with you, and your smile died down when you saw the empty vial sticking out of his muscled biceps. It still held the remains of the blue liquid, mixing with his own blood. Azriel couldn’t see it, since it was small enough to hide from his sight. Objectively, it had broken from the fall and emptied on the ground. Objectively, it could be any vial and Azriel would be just fine and perfect.

You felt as if someone had submerged your head underwater as he asked you what was it. As you watched yet another drop run down from the bottom of the vial into his body. No matter how quickly you pulled it off, the harm was done.

For good measure, you took a step back and stared all your intrusive thoughts into the palm of your hand, where the remains of the vial stood. It was covered in his blood, your Azriel’s blood. Your friend, your lover, your Azriel. Your mouth went dry when you looked up and watched his eyes widen in panic.

“Is that…” he didn’t finish the question, nor he needed to.

“Think so. It’s small”

“Was it in? Has it touched my body?” Azriel reached a hand behind his back, searching for a non-existing reassurance in your eyes. “Y/N”

“Maybe it doesn’t work like this. It – it broke, the contents spilled before. We have no way of – “

“Was it in?”

You nodded softly, watching him find the exact point of puncture. You could try and fool yourself, fool him, but you noticed the change in his scent in just a few seconds. Under his spiced, fresh smell, there was something else. His throat bobbed down and his eyes darked, just an inch.

Both of you kept quiet for a second. It had never gone so wrong, so fast, in your missions together. You worked well, you were efficient. At worst cases, any of you got injured and the other would cause a carnage well deserved. At better, you spent time with the person you loved the most but didn’t dare to confess to.

Your ears picked up the increase of his heartrate, and your mind replayed the words in the notebook. The effects of the drug were clear – and the consequences too. That sprung you into action, rounding his rigid body and picking up the fallen notebook.

You flipped through the pages, trying to come up with something else. Something that wasn’t death and a breeding tonic that was just flooding through Azriel’s veins.

“I can’t winnow. I can’t… my shadows. They’re gone” you heard Azriel from behind you, but all you could see were words and crossed out names blurring together.

1st trial: Jolene and Atrox. Healthy subjects. No previous incidents to report.

The male ingested the vial. The effect was instant. Killed the female before undressing her, in his haste of getting closer. Snapped her neck. Died after two minutes, heart gave out.

“Rhysand doesn’t expect us until tomorrow. They won’t be coming. Damn it. Damn it!”

9nd trial: Marvel and Broncor. Stronger, healthier. She has already given birth. Fertile and flexible.

The male ingested the vial. The effect was instant. They copulated for five hours. Female died upon multiple traumas taken to the head. Male kept going for two more hours. Heart gave out.

“Isn’t it too hot? Y/N, listen – what are you doing? Y/N?”

20th trial: Evene and Cyrian. Mated couple. Together for fifteen years. Unconsented teaser.

It was injected into the male arm. The effect was instant. Lasted almost a day. Destroyed previous test cabin, in need for a new one. Female died from multiple lacerations. Male died. Heart gave out.

Weirdly, it wasn’t Azriel’s voice trying to call for you what broke you free from the notebook, but the faint sound of his heart. As you had read through the pages, it had increased dangerously. You had never heard it so loud and fast. The spymaster always controlled his heartrate – through exercises, through missions, through sex.

But you could hear it over your own, loud and demanding. You turned around and found Azriel covered in sweat. His pupils were expanded until you couldn’t see the sweet hazel behind them. And his hand, the one that wasn’t tugging at the edge of his shirt, was holding his crotch with a trembling grip.

The jacket was already on the ground, and above all of that, you vision became blurry at the notice of his arousal. The evident, primal arousal that filled the cabin, that was radiating off him in steady waves.

His eyes bored into yours with an intensity you had never seen, but he didn’t move. It must have taken you a while to read all those tests. Failed test where they all died, the males’ heart giving out in each one. And the heart you greeded the most was threatening to give out in front of you.

“You need to leave” Azriel managed to say, his hand squeezing his cock painfully.

“Az”

Part of you seemed to be horrified at the situation. It was aware of the danger Azriel had just turned into, the order to your legs to run fast and steady ready. It was the part of you Azriel had liked, that had made him train you to be a spy.

The other part, he had created. Between soft touches and kisses. You didn’t need a name to know that you loved him, that he had given you everything when he had nothing. That part was terrified, too, yet seemed to scream in the opposite direction.

Neither of those parts seemed to come up with a solution.

“Don’t say my name. Leave” he couldn’t help the moan at your voice, his fingers quickly getting rid of the confines of his trousers. “Y/N, leave”

His cock spang free with little effort, and he jacked off with an impressive speed. Yet you had read also test 14th, where the male had tried to masturbate and hadn’t even lasted five minutes. Any other day, you would have melted at the sight of Azriel’s cock tall and proud in front of you. There was a steady drip of precum that seemed too eager, too early.

He had an impressive resistance, as you well knew. But his balls were almost purple, the veins along his shaft pulsing.

“If you don’t give in, you will die” you announced him, trying to keep your eyes on his. Your own core was starting to pulse with unwanted need. “None of them could do it on their own. And you’re not different”

“And none of the females live either, Y/N. Please, please” his voice broke at the end. His nostrils flared at your own smell, and his thighs tightened in an effort to keep still. “Run as far as you can, and take Truthteller with you. I can’t – with you, I… leave, please”

“There is one who made it”

The lie rolled off your tongue easily, and you knew Azriel was in too much pain and desperation to notice. Only a male had survived, after killing three women in a row. Your heart seemed to work on its own as you noticed the opportunity. Staying wasn’t the reasonable option, yet leaving him was no option at all.

“It might take a while, but we can make it. You need to fuck it out, and we have done it before”

“With consent!” he almost screamed, ending up in a frustrated moan. “I won’t touch you while this is in me. Either you leave or I – I’m gonna – Y/N”

His heart speeded even more if that was possible, and his hand flattered. How long had it been? You didn’t want to think about how long he could make it, how long he could resist it. But you were certain that he would die before touching you in that cabin.

Azriel had been denied of many choices and options in his life, and you knew how much he hated to have decisions taken from him. You watched the anger in his eyes as you stepped closer, unbuttoning your jeans.

With muscle memory, you stepped out of your confines and stepped up to him. Every part of Azriel was on edge, every nerve on his body screamed. And still, he didn’t touch you. Azriel stared with a silent plea in his eyes, a last warning.

“I can’t do this” Azriel begged. “Not to you, Y/N. Don’t make me do this”

“I won’t lose you”

Those were your last words before you snuck up your arms around his shoulders, forcibly lowering his head so you could lock your lips with him. One last act of normality before the drug took control over him. At that point, there was only one real objective in your mind, one coherent thought – don’t let the only light in your life die. Don’t let Azriel die because a stupid mistake.

You brushed your lips against his and didn’t show the surprise at his body temperature. He was burning, not only hot against the cold wind, but sickly hot. His skin was sweaty against your palms, his lips cracked already.

“It’s fine, Az” you whispered against his mouth. “I trust you”

Before you could blink or fully register the implications of your consent, you were turned around and pushed to the closest wall. Only Azriel hand on your forehead avoided the blow to your head.

His other hand wasted no time to roam through your body, already with enough pressure to leave bruises. It wasn’t the kindness you were used to, the love Azriel professed for you in every touch and caress. His touch was rough and brutal, and you didn’t know what to do with the pooling wetness at the thought.

It could have been tears of frustration or drops of sweat falling onto your shoulder, but Azriel didn’t let you turn around to check. As if looking into your eyes made it worse.

“Az” you moaned loudly when he found your center, trembling with the restrain. “The door, close the door”

He obeyed when his index finger pressed in you with enough pression to make your knees tremble. You only heard the sound of the door closing, maybe his shadows doing the work, as your eyes rolled back when he started fingering you as if it was your own pleasure who was making him mad.

Azriel rutted into your body from behind, growling like a feral animal. His hips pushed into you again and again, the hand holding your face into place lowering to your neck. He kept pushing his finger in and out of you, in a rush to make you wet enough to take him. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it wasn’t for his size, that you were feeling in your lower back.

When you heard Azriel’s breath hitch, when you were sure he wouldn’t last another second with the drug speeding his heart, you urged him to continue.

“If it gets too much, kill me” Azriel whispered with the last remains of his self-control. “Promise me if it’s between me and you, you’ll kill me”

“We’re gonna be fine”

“Promise me”

You only nodded, and hoped he wouldn’t notice the second lie thrown his way.

His fingers left your entrance with a wet sound, and his cock replaced them. You were lifted a few inches with just one of his hands, your feet leaving the ground. Along the smell of both arousals and the sickening scent of the drug, you noticed the blood that peaked through the scratch on your naked chest.

The brief pain of the rough wood against them died down when Azriel finally pushed into you.

Azriel’s cock stretched you so much that, for a moment, you lost your breath. His body moved on its own accord, driven by the drug, and didn’t let you time to adjust. No matter how wet he had gotten you, it hurt. It hurt as he pistoled himself in and out, fast and hard. As he moaned and whined and screamed your name.

He fucked you so hard, yet you could see from the corner of your eye his fingers creating dents on the well. His sheer will was the only thing keeping him from killing you, according to the reports you had read previously.

You didn’t know for how long it went on, only that you came around his cock and he didn’t stop. He came minutes later, sputtering like a teenager with trembling knees, only to keep fucking you with the same strength.

It could have been minutes, or hours, yet the only thought you could focus on was that his heart was still beating, strong and steady. That you were alive and he was with you.

“I’m going to wreck you” Azriel panted, and his voice was only a distant sound in your haze of pain and pleasure. “Please kill me. Kill me before I do, Y/N”

It wasn’t a playful promise of two lovers, but a terrified pled from a drugged male. Azriel’s body was the only thing keeping you straight, his cock keeping his restless movement inside you. There were cuts all over your breast from how hard he was pushing you against the wall, yet he couldn’t stop.

The drug was so powerful, so primal, that he could only keep fucking you on and on.

Even if you wanted, you couldn’t have answered him. If felt like your throat had closed up long ago, only opening for moans or whines. The line between pain and pleasure was blurry all the time, and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it.

“Y/N. Y/N” he called your name as he emptied himself inside you once more – only to keep going a second after.

Your thighs were sticky with his cum and yours, cascading down your legs like a torrent. But the drug kept affecting his body, and he continued even when your body was too sore to handle it. You knew your tears would hurt him and break him into two, but you couldn’t control the overstimulation as you let them free fall your cheeks.

Azriel must have smelt them, the saltiness in the air, because for a moment the male was strong enough to slower his movements. You almost fell to the ground when he took a step back, his heart speeding all over again.

As if the last hours hadn’t meant nothing.

“Run” he whispered desperately, one of his hands furiously stroking his cock.

“I’m not leaving you here to die, Azriel” you managed to say. “Don’t make this harder”

You used the advantage of his self-control before it consumed, and turned around. You didn’t need to follow his gaze to the wounds on your chest, to the bruises with the form on his fingertips, to know they were there. The pain of Azriel’s action was making your mind dizzy.

Yet it was fuck or die. It was for him, whose eyes were still pitch black, his whole body covered in sweat. That you had managed to survive so long broke the records on that old notebook, and that alone would have been enough to make you consider how strong Azriel was.

But you couldn’t think about the pain he must have been in, only dried your tears on your forearm. More threatened to fall because you were tired. You wanted to stop and go back a few hours ago, burn that place down before it was too late. Still, you knew you couldn’t do that.

“I trust you, okay?” you reminded him as Azriel’s own eyes became glossy. “We can make it out. You just need to endure through and try not to kill me in the meantime. We can do it”

You weren’t as confident as before, but you didn’t have time to consider it. With your enhanced hearing, you could hear his heart. It had slowed down from that frenetic, dangerous point at the beginning, but it wasn’t safe still. At any moment, it would give up and you couldn’t phantom that thought.

So, with a trembling hand, you replaced his hand on his cock with yours. He had finished three times already, a fourth time when you used your other hand to squeezed his balls. They emptied on your stomach, precum flowing as soon as he finished.

“I’m so sorry” Azriel admitted, and your breath hitched as you kept stroking him.

It wasn’t enough, the drug made him need to be inside a woman. But it was giving you time to regain your breath, hug his shoulders once more and let him lower you to the ground.

-

Gaining back consciousness was a long process, that took you a few minutes. First it was the notice of the snow beneath your body, and on you. Flakes fell from the sky and covered your hair and nose, your naked feet. It should have made you cold, but you were warm.

Then it was the soreness that hug every inch of you, from your legs to your shoulders, even your neck. Your throat felt dry and it took you a few tries to open your eyes. When you did, you were met with white.

White ground, white sky, white trees. You frowned at your surroundings before the last events caught up with you, and your body perked up with panic.

Finally, you noticed Azriel’s body draped over yours. He was still inside you, one of his hands cupping your cheek. As you turned to look at him, you saw frozen tears on his cheeks, a sight so rare yet beautiful that broke the last of your stupor away.

“Az” you croaked out, more of a groan than a word.

You weren’t cold because his body and wings were a blanket against the weather. He too was unconscious, covered in snow. The last hours were blurry, only him and his body and the persistent need to hold on. You remembered his body heat, you suggesting the snow to lower it – and the cabin crumbling under his power as he came inside you once more.

One of your hands rose to his cheek, and you watched with morbid fascination the paleness on your fingertips, almost blue. You were far too tired to care about it, the edge of your consciousness slipping away once more.

“We should go” you muttered, tapping those frozen fingers against his cheek. His head just rolled back.

You tried to listen to his heart, to make sure he was alive and had survived the drug. But you blacked out before you could worry about it.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!

Azriel taglist:

@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend , @starsinyourseyes , @bakananya , @tele86 , @lilah-asteria

[thewulf]

The Quiet Between || Azriel

Summary: Request -Hiyaaa loved your Az story. So freaking good. I had one in mind and wonder if you could write it? Maybe some deep Azriel and reader angst? I'm picturing a scene where Azriel, drowning under his duties and secrets snaps harshly at the reader, our newest healer at the Night Court when she gently suggests he talks about what’s weighing on him. His words sting, making her doubt her role at the court... Read Rest Here

A/N: Whew this was challenging to write but I really love how it turned out! Please let me know how you like it below. And as always, keep sending in your requests!

Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Dawn Court Reader)

Word Count: 6.2k +

TW: Mean Az, Harsh Words (soft ending!)

When Madja, the esteemed healer of the Night Court, realized the growing demands of her duties required an apprentice she petitioned the High Lord for permission to seek out a promising candidate. Her search led her to Dawn Court where your skills and unique approach to healing caught her attention. Impressed, as she often wasn’t, she offered you the chance to study under her. A chance to take over for her in a few hundred years. It was a proposition that both excited and terrified you. Normally you were more risk-averse but something within urged you not to let this opportunity slip by. Accepting the offer might be a decision you'd regret forever if declined.

Your arrival at the Night Court was a mix of awe and overwhelming pressure. You were acutely aware of the Court’s reputation with its warriors and schemers, and its dances of politics and power. Yet, as the years unfolded you found more than just acceptance. You found a place where you felt like you just might belong. Madja was an exacting teacher and under her guidance you thrived. Your skills became indispensable to the Night Court.

Mor, your favorite social butterfly, took it upon herself to integrate you into the Court's vibrant life. She invited you out with the girls to Rita's where the music and laughter helped weave you deeper into the fabric of Night Court society. Cassian with his easy grin and boundless energy offered to train you in physical defense. He said it was essential for everyone at the Court to know how to protect themselves. And even Rhysand himself showed you how to fortify your mental shields as a necessary skill amidst the intrigues that often played out around them.

Yet despite these warm inclusions, Azriel was the only one who kept a cautious distance. The shadowy spymaster was polite but reserved. He often watched you with a contemplative gaze that suggested he was trying to figure you out from a safe distance. His reluctance to engage was not overtly hostile but it was clear he held reservations. His own shadows clinging too tightly, perhaps, to allow another close. This delicate balance of respect and curiosity marked your interactions, or lack thereof, with the spymaster. You often caught glimpses of Azriel as his presence like a whisper in the vast halls of the Court. He was always just out of reach, both physically and emotionally. His aloofness didn't hinder your duties. But it did create a space of unanswered questions in your mind.

One cool evening in the Night Court the opportunity to bridge that distance between him presented itself unexpectedly. Azriel returned from a particularly grueling mission. His arrival unannounced except for the quiet clatter of his boots in the hallway of the healer's quarters. As he pushed open the door, the grimace etched across his face spoke volumes of the pain he was enduring, both visible and hidden beneath the surface.

You ushered him in, your professional demeanor in place yet your heart beating a tad faster with the realization that this was the closest you had ever been to him. His usually guarded expression was replaced with a rare, unguarded grimace of pain. It revealed a vulnerability he typically masked beneath layers of shadows and silence making you feel a touch uneasy.

"Let me help," you offered softly while guiding him to a seat where you could better assess his injuries. The proximity to him in this moment tending to his wound felt like an unspoken permission to finally address the silent questions that had lingered between you. It was an opening to understand the man who had so thoroughly perfected the art of being untouchable.

"Let's take a look at that," you murmur while taking his hand in yours. Your hands are steady and careful as you gently peel away the fabric near his wound. The cut isn't deep, but it's laced with poison, enough to have caused significant discomfort. “I’m sorry. This is going to sting.” You whispered as you rushed off to grab the needed supplies.

As you apply a soothing salve you notice Azriel's clenched jaw and the way his muscles tighten under your touch—not just from the sting of the wound. You've seen warriors in all states, and you recognize the signs of inner turmoil as clearly as physical injuries.

"Azriel," you start, your voice soft but firm, "even the strongest warriors can benefit from sharing their burdens. It doesn't make you weak to speak about what's weighing on your heart." You try and sound confident in your words, but it comes out as meek.

His reaction is immediate and sharp. It cut through the air like a freshly sharpened knife. Azriel's eyes snap up to meet your with a coldness in them that freezes you in place. "You think you have the right to offer me counsel?" he says with his voice low and biting. "You, who have barely seen a fraction of the darkness I have faced. Yet you presume to understand my duties, my sacrifices?"

You open your mouth to apologize. To clarify your intentions but he doesn't give you the chance. "No, don’t," he snaps. Cutting you off as your heart begins to sink. "Don’t patronize me with platitudes and naive compassion. You know nothing of the burdens I carry. Of the secrets that consume me. You see surface wounds and think to heal a soul scarred by centuries?" It was the most you had heard him speak and unfortunately for you those words made your heart nearly twist in two. Surely that wasn’t what you were trying to do.

Your eyes begin to burn. His words slicing through any defense you might have had. You look down instead focusing on the bandage. To hide the hurt that’s welling up, threatening to spill over. "I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—"

"Save your apologies," Azriel interrupts with a tone as harsh as a winter storm. "They mean nothing in the face of what I endure daily. You wish to help? Do so by not overstepping your bounds again." You drop his arm after finishing up removing the poison and sealing the cut. But he wasn’t done, no. You just wished he’d fly away instead of cutting you even deeper. You had no intention of offending him yet here he was, hurt by your very own words. You’d never truly felt like a helpless child in all your centuries until this very moment.

As he continues his words grow even colder, each one a deliberate stake right into your very own heart. "Understand this, healer. My life, my pains are not fodder for idle chatter or curious minds seeking to 'fix' what they perceive as broken. You cannot begin to comprehend the wars I fight within the shadows. Wars meant to protect you and everyone else here from horrors you should hope never to encounter." His words were final, offering you no chance at rebuttal. Not that you would have been able to find the words. Your mind was racing in horror about what had just transpired in your very own healing hall. You, the one who was meant to mend broken souls might’ve just torn his right back open.

He stands abruptly with his wound tended but the air around him colder than the stone walls of the court. His departure is swift, leaving a wake of silence so deep it echoes through the chamber. You're left alone with the sting of his rebuke more painful than any physical wound you've treated. His words replay in your mind as a harsh reminder of the chasm between his world of shadows and your desire to heal. Guilt begins to consume you as you replay the words that struck you so hardly in your mind.

The room feels overwhelmingly empty as you struggle to compose yourself. The impact of his dismissal weighing heavily on your heart. You realize that healing Azriel might be beyond your reach. Not for lack of skill, but because the wounds he carries are far deeper and more complex than you ever imagined. Perplexed and deeply hurt you find yourself grappling with a tumult of emotions. Confusion is the first to surface. You had approached the situation with genuine concern. Your offer to listen driven by the empathy that defines your role as a healer. His aggressive response, then, feels like an undeserved refusal. A dismissal not just of your words but of your very intent.

You replay the conversation in your mind, dissecting each exchange, each barbed word. His accusation that you, nestled in your world of herbs and healing, could never understand the scope of his darkness stings sharply. It's true though you realize. That the depths of his secrets are beyond your grasp. This acknowledgment doesn't ease the sting of rejection. If anything, it deepens the wound. You had not claimed to understand. You only wanted to listen. And yet, he had cut you off, leaving no room for reconciliation.

As the initial shock fades, a deeper, more persistent ache settles in. You're hurt. Undeniably so. Hurt by his insinuation that your attempts at comfort were trivial, naive even. Does he truly see you as just another court member? As just a healer? Naive to the true workings of his world? The thought is disheartening, and you feel a profound sense of isolation creeping in. A sense that perhaps you are out of your depth in this court of shadows and secrets. Perhaps your mother was right. You weren’t built for the Night Court. You had a wonderful, easy life in Dawn. She had even picked out a high-ranking husband for you that would’ve provided and kept you safe. Her nagging words pricked at the back of your mind as the last five years here almost fell all for nothing. Five years was no time in the world of fae, you knew this. You were still the new healer, but you had thought that maybe you were finally finding your footing here. But then again maybe you were wrong.

Yet, beyond the hurt and confusion there's also a glimmer of resolve. You're a healer, trained not only to mend wounds but to understand the people you treat. Azriel's outburst, though harsh, reveals more than his disdain. It highlights his immense burden. His profound isolation. Perhaps your approach was too direct. Too unguarded for someone so accustomed to concealing his emotions.

As you clean up the space a quiet resolution forms in your mind. You won't push him again, no, not without invitation. The sting of his words lingers, and you decide that perhaps the best way to handle this is to give him the space he seems to fiercely guard. He may have dismissed your concern today but it's clear that what he desires most is distance. Not the compassion you offered. In this moment of reflection, you recognize the complexity of healing. It’s not just about tending to visible wounds. It’s also about understanding when to step back. Recognizing that some scars are too deeply etched to be approached without consent. Azriel has his walls, high and fortified. And you, you decide, will no longer attempt to scale them. Instead, you resolve to avoid him, believing that distancing yourself is the kindest thing you can do for him right now.

This decision doesn't come easy. You're a healer, trained to offer solace and aid to those in pain. Yet, in this case, the healing you want to provide is not welcomed or perhaps even needed in the way you thought. You accept that sometimes healing means stepping back. It means allowing wounds to close in the solitude they were opened in. Maybe with time he will seek you out if ever he feels ready to lower his guard. Until then you'll focus on those who welcome your help carrying with you the lesson that sometimes the best way to care for someone is simply to let them be.

After the confrontation in the healing room the atmosphere at the Night Court seemed to shift becoming dense with an unspoken tension that hung heavily in the air. Azriel quickly became burdened by the discomfort of his own harshness. It wasn’t often but he felt an acute sting of regret. His words, sharper and colder than he had intended, replayed relentlessly in his mind. Each sentence an echo of a reminder of the pain he had inflicted on somebody so kind.

Late into the night he found himself wandering the quieter corridors of the court trying to clear his mind.. The stone beneath his feet was cold and unyielding much like the mask he wore so well. With each step he attempted to outpace his regret, but solitude brought no relief. The memory of the genuine shock and sadness in your eyes haunted him. A vivid image that refused to fade into the shadows where he so often retreated.

Why had he lashed out? Azriel questioned himself. His normally composed thoughts unraveling with unusual disorder. He knew the stress of his duties as the spymaster often left him on edge, a blade perpetually sharpened and ready. Yet, it was more than just the strain of his role. It was the fear of vulnerability. Of opening those darker parts of himself he fought so hard to control. Seeing your concern, so innocent and genuine, had somehow threatened the walls he had meticulously built around his emotions for centuries. He couldn’t become undone by your one simple question.

He hated himself for how he had responded to you. How his instinct to protect his inner turmoil had manifested as cruelty towards you. The more he thought about it the more he despised the part of himself that had become so adept at pushing others away, especially those who dared to care.

As Azriel continued his nocturnal wanderings the shadows around him seemed to whisper of solitude and sorrow. Yet, it was the sorrow in your eyes that lingered most prominently in his mind. He realized then that his actions might not only have hurt you but could also have damaged whatever budding respect or friendship could have grown between you. This thought tightened the already constricting band around his chest. He had messed up badly and he knew it. His shadows knew it.

Resolving to seek redemption, not just for his peace but to mend the fracture he had caused, Azriel decided he would apologize to you. He needed to explain to you. To make you understand that his outburst wasn’t a reflection of his feelings towards you but a misguided defense against his own insecurities.

His journey through the night didn’t erase his regrets, but it solidified his resolve. He would try to bridge the gap his words had created hoping that you would understand and perhaps forgive. In the quiet before dawn Azriel finally stopped walking, the decision firm in his mind. Tomorrow, he would face you again, not as the Night Court's daunting spymaster, but simply as Azriel… imperfect and remorseful.

As he moved silently past the gardens the moonlight cast a serene glow over the night-blooming flowers illuminating the path with a ghostly light. Drawn by the soft, muffled sounds of distress his shadows unconsciously steered him towards a secluded alcove hidden by tendrils of ivy and the long shadows of the towering trees. It was unmistakably you. His heart tightened as he approached. Driven by a mix of concern and a need to understand the impact of his earlier harshness.

There in the dim light, he found you seated on a small bench. You were not alone, but with one of the younger assistants from the healer's quarters he had recognized. The assistant, whom you often mentored, sat beside you with a hand on your shoulder. Her presence meant to support you as you struggled with a flood of emotions.

"I don’t know any more Helena. Maybe I just don't belong here," you whispered between sobs. Your voice shaky with uncertainty. Tears streamed down your cheeks unrestrained after holding them back for so long. Azriel's words had not just stung. They had acted as a dam break, releasing all the pent-up doubts and fears you had about your place in this illustrious court. "I keep thinking maybe I should just go back to Dawn. My very own mother always said I was chasing a fantasy coming here. Maybe she's right. Maybe a quieter life away from all this would be better for me. Maybe I’m not cut out for the Night Court."

The young assistant, Helena, looked up to you not only for your healing skills but also for your kindness and leadership. She listened intently. Her expression one of deep empathy and concern. "You can't think that way," she responded softly. Her voice earnest. "Everyone here, especially Madja, respects you so much. Cassian, Mor, even Rhysand—they all see how much you bring to our home. It's not just you’re healing. It's your spirit. You're meant to be here with us. Please don’t think like that. I’ve learned more than I ever thought possible from you. We need you here."

Her comforting words were meant to bolster your spirits, but the reassurance felt hollow against the backdrop of your raw emotions. Despite her encouraging tone, the doubts seeded by Azriel's harsh outburst lingered. They tainted your thoughts with shadows of uncertainty about your place in this world you had grown to love yet still sometimes felt alien in.

Azriel was hidden just out of sight. He felt a deep pang of regret as he listened. The raw pain in your voice and the sight of your tears struck him more profoundly than he had ever expected. He realized then that his careless words had cut far deeper than he had intended, not just challenging your confidence but piercing the very core of your sense of belonging. Knowing that an apology would be necessary but not sufficient, Azriel resolved to actively show that you were valued and essential. Not just as a healer but as a vital member of their community. His thoughts solidified in the quiet of the night. He would make amends, starting with a heartfelt apology and followed by actions that would hopefully restore your faith in your place at the Night Court.

It was an ordinary yet busy day in the healer's quarters of the Night Court. You were deeply focused on tending to a young fae warrior who had sustained a minor but painful injury during training. As you carefully applied a healing salve the sound of urgent voices and heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

"He needs help now!" Azriel's voice carried a tone of dire urgency as he burst into the room. He was supporting a limping Cassian whose leg was bleeding profusely from a deep gash surely laced with poison. These damn Illyrians always coming back with some form of poisoned injury. The sight of such an injury would normally have you on your feet and rushing over. But the presence of Azriel, the harbinger of your recent heartache, gave you pause.

For a split second your gaze met Azriel's and the memory of his harsh words and cold dismissal surged through your mind. You looked away as quickly as you could. Your chest immediately tightened with anxiety at the thought of what to do. It wasn’t fair to Cassian to ignore him, but you didn’t think you could face Azriel right now. Terrified of another confrontation and still raw from the last you quickly turned your attention back to the young fae before you.

"This one's in a critical state, I need to focus here. Helena, please attend to the General." you called out your voice slightly louder than necessary. The lie laid bitter on your tongue. It wasn't entirely untrue. His injury did need attention, but it certainly wasn't as dire as Cassian's condition.

Helena, who had followed in behind Azriel and Cassian, quickly stepped forward to assist, sensing the tension. "I've got him, don't worry," she spoke as she moved to tend to Cassian with a swift efficiency that you were grateful for.

As you focused intently on the young fae's injury with your back turned to the drama unfolding behind you, you heard every strained whisper and shuffling footstep echoed ominously. Despite your efforts to concentrate your mind spun with anxiety and dread. You knew your actions were a protective shield guarding you from a confrontation you felt unprepared to handle.

Behind you, Azriel's concern for Cassian was palpable. His usual stoic demeanor was pierced by urgency. His voice a low, constant murmur as he assisted your assistant. Yet, his mind was partly on you. He was troubled by the palpable tension and the rigid set of your shoulders. The memory of his previous harshness towards you weighed heavily on him, mixing regret with a newfound caution. He wondered if his actions had broken something essential. Perhaps fearing that your trust in him might be irreparably damaged.

Cassian, despite his pain noticed the strained dynamics as well. As your assistant worked on his wound his eyes flicked towards you, then back to Azriel. "What happened between you two?" he hissed under his breath not missing the unusual distance you kept. Azriel's silence was an answer in itself. It was filled with remorse and resignation. Cassian's frown deepened. Concern for his friends overshadowing his physical discomfort. "You need to fix this, Az," he muttered, firm yet worried. "She’s not just any healer. She’s part of this family now. She’s going to replace Madja someday."

Once the immediate crisis was handled and Cassian was stable Azriel made his way towards you. His steps were hesitant, each one heavy with regret. When he paused by your side his presence felt like a cold shadow. His usual warmth for his family became obscured by the barrier that had formed between you.

"Thank you," he said softly. His voice low and perhaps understanding more than you wanted him to. "For all that you do here." You sucked in a breath at his words. Was he apologizing? Was he sorry? Were you completely misreading the situation yet again?

You didn't turn to face him. Fear of what you might see in his eyes—anger, disappointment, or worse, indifference—kept you fixed in place. "Of course," you managed to whisper. The words barely escaping your lips. He sensed that this wasn’t the time nor place to dig deeper so he resolved to keep his words simple. He would find you later when you weren’t busy working. He truly needed to apologize to you.

After he left the weight of the encounter settled heavily upon you. You felt a mix of relief at having avoided direct confrontation and a deep-seated guilt for your evasion. You knew this wasn't just about professional duties. It was about the fractures within a team, a family you had grown to cherish.

Later, as the healer’s quarters quieted and the evening settled in, Cassian found you in the gardens, where the night’s cool air seemed to echo the chill in your own thoughts. It was your favorite place to relax and unwind. Your sanctuary in the chaos that was the Night Court. He approached with a confident stride despite his recent injury and his expression was serious.

"Hey," he started. His voice carrying a hint of his usual directness mixed with concern. "Things were off between you and Az today. He’s worried, and frankly, so am I. We’ve all had our rough patches, but we don’t let that drive a wedge between us. Yeah?"

You paused, looking down at your growing herbs rather than meeting his gaze. You let out a soft sigh before answering him. "I’m just scared, Cass. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing again. It’s like... I’m tiptoeing around landmines with him. How do I even start to fix that?"

Cassian nodded. His features softening slightly. "Az can be intense. I won’t argue with that. But he’s also one of the most upright guys I know. Just be honest with him. Tell him you’re trying to avoid making things worse. He respects straightforwardness. Always has." He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "And remember, it’s not just about avoiding the landmines. It’s about clearing the field. Start with the truth. It’s always been the best foundation for us here, no matter how hard it might be."

You nodded appreciating his words. He was right. The truth got you so much further. "Thanks, Cass," you replied feeling a resolve begin to form. "I think I’ll talk to him. Just lay everything out."

"That’s the way," Cassian said with a brief nod. "We’re all here together, and we keep no secrets... save Azriel,” He smirked knowing that’s likely what got the two of you in the situation in the first place. “At least not the kind that hurt. If you're honest, he’ll listen. And if there’s anyone who can understand the value of facing hard truths, it’s Azriel."

As Cassian left you to your thoughts the weight on your shoulders didn't lift entirely but you felt more prepared to face the challenge ahead. Honesty would be your approach; you would share your fears with Azriel, hoping that it would bridge the gap between you. After all, in the Night Court, even the darkest shadows were faced together, not alone.

The next night you found yourself back in the serene confines of your herb garden where the evening light softened the edges of each leaf and petal. You were deeply absorbed in tending to a cluster of chamomile. The quiet focus on your plants provided a necessary reprieve from the swirling anxieties that had occupied your thoughts lately. However, your calm shattered when a shadow loomed unexpectedly over you. Azriel.

Startled, you looked up, only to find him standing there watching you with a curiosity you’d never seen from him before. His sudden presence was imposing and unexpectedly close and sent a rush of panic through you. His height and the intensity in his eyes seemed to fill the space making the air around you feel thinner.

"Oh! Azriel, you surprised me! I didn’t hear you walk over," you blurted out. A nervous chuckle escaping you as you hastily tried to gather your scattered wits. "I was just, um, focusing here, and—you know, plants don’t really talk back, so I guess I wasn't expecting any company."

He paused after noting your discomfort. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you," he said gently. His voice a soothing rumble. "I came to apologize. For the last time we spoke. I was too harsh. It was unfair to you."

Your response tumbled out in a rush. Your words tripping over each other. "No, no, it’s fine, really. I mean, not fine fine, but you know… I should’ve been more aware or something. I’m usually not this jumpy, I swear. Maybe a little—actually, maybe a lot right now because, well, you're kind of, um, imposing? And this wasn’t how I imagined our next conversation going..."

Azriel’s slight smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it did appear to carry a hint of amusement at your rambling. "I appreciate you saying that, but truly, I am the one who should be apologizing. I’ve thought a lot about what I said... and I regret it deeply. You didn’t deserve that." He took another step toward you as you stood.

You swallowed hard trying to steady your racing heart. "Why are you apologizing now?" you managed to ask feeling suddenly very aware of how close he was standing. The question felt bold, but your voice was anything but confident.

He took a slight step back giving you a bit more space. "Because I realized I might have made you feel unwelcome or undervalued here and that’s… that’s the last thing I want. We all need to support each other, and I failed in that moment. I want to make it right if you’ll let me."

Your mind raced with every thought, but you nodded feeling a mix of apprehension and relief. "I... yeah, I’d like that. I’ve been feeling a bit lost here. Like maybe I don’t belong. It’s been tough, and, well, your words stung. But maybe, I don’t know, maybe we can start over? Try to understand each other a bit more?" As you offered him a tentative smile the garden seemed to return to its peaceful state. The earlier tension dissipating slightly.

Azriel’s gaze softened with a rare flicker of amusement lighting his eyes as he noticed your unease. "You handle the complexities of healing with such ease," he commented with a slight tease in his voice, "yet you seem quite disarmed by a rather simple conversation."

You gave a small self-conscious laugh appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, it's one thing to deal with herbs and potions. They tend not to talk back. It's another to navigate apologies and emotions. Especially with someone who usually keeps his cards so close to his chest."

He smiled and it transformed his face, softening the usual stern lines. "Fair enough," he conceded. Then, his expression turned more serious. The playful glint replaced by a depth of sincerity. "I really am sorry, though. For everything. I know I keep saying it, but it’s because I mean it. I’ve been... difficult towards you these last few years. And I don’t want to burden you with the things I’ve carried. Of the decisions I've had to make. It’s not your weight to bear."

You listened, understanding dawning as you saw the heavy cloak of responsibility he wore. Something that was so integral to his identity yet so isolating. "Maybe not," you replied softly, "but sharing those burdens doesn’t mean you're passing them on. It just means you’re not alone with them anymore. We can share without it being a burden. Sometimes, sharing is how we heal."

Azriel looked at you with something like wonder flickering in his gaze. "I suppose you’re right," he admitted. "It’s just not easy for me. I’ve always thought keeping my troubles to myself was a way to protect others. But maybe... maybe I’ve been wrong about that." The conversation deepened as each of you explored the nuances of forgiveness and the strength found in mutual understanding and empathy. Azriel learned about the power of vulnerability. Not as a spymaster but as a man. And he saw how your empathy and gentle nature enriched the court in ways that strategy and strength could not.

"I've kept many secrets," Azriel confessed. His voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of rustling leaves. "Not because I enjoy the solitude but because I fear the consequences of those secrets unraveling."

"You don’t have to tell me everything," you assured him. "Just knowing that you trust me enough to admit you have these secrets is a step. We all have secrets Azriel. What matters is how we face them and who stands with us when we do."

Azriel nodded. The corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes. "Thank you for understanding."

You nodded but still felt a nagging question at the bottom of your heart. The gardens around you seemed to hold their breath as you voiced a concern that had been shadowing your thoughts. "Azriel, back when you... when you were upset. You called me 'healer.' Is that… is that all you see me as?" Your insecurity got the better of you. The question sounded so much more childish as you asked it aloud, but you needed to know the answer.

Azriel’s expression changed instantly. The regret in his eyes unmistakable. "Gods, I am so sorry, Y/N. I was angry and overwhelmed and I unfairly took it out on you." His voice was thick with remorse. His usual stoicism giving way to a rare openness. "You are so much more than just a healer to us, to me. I should never have made you feel otherwise." Seeing the sincerity in his gaze you felt a complex knot of emotions begin to untangle. Yet, there was still a shadow of sadness in your eyes. A remnant of the hurt his words had caused.

Noticing this, Azriel did something completely unexpected. He stepped closer. His presence enveloping you whole, and hesitantly, almost awkwardly he opened his arms. "May I?" he asked softly giving you the choice.

With a small nod you stepped into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. It was a rare gesture from him as he was known for his guarded nature. It spoke volumes of his regret and his desire to make amends. His shadows ever a part of him, seemed to curl around the both of you gently. A comforting whisper against your skin.

As you stood there held in his careful embrace Azriel spoke again, his voice gentler than you had ever heard. "I’m truly sorry, Y/N. For everything. I let my anger and frustrations dictate my actions and you bore the brunt of that. I promise you this, I will do better. You deserve better."

Pulling back slightly he looked down into your eyes, ensuring you could see the truth in his. "Thank you for giving me the chance to apologize, to make things right. I don’t take your forgiveness lightly."

Your heart that was once heavy with doubt and hurt now fluttered with a burgeoning sense of renewed connection. "Thank you, Azriel, for understanding, for this," you said, your voice steady despite the emotions brimming within.

This conversation that was once a tentative path to reconciliation had blossomed into something deeper. A genuine connection fostered by understanding and shared vulnerabilities. Azriel's willingness to show his softer side, to bridge the gap with both an apology and a hug, marked a new chapter in your relationship. One filled with potential for even greater understanding and closeness. Together in the quiet of the herb garden you both began to navigate a path toward healing. Your relationship strengthened by the honesty and empathy of your exchange. It was a tentative step forward. One filled with potential for deeper understanding and a strengthened connection.

As the weeks turned into months, the atmosphere between you and Azriel visibly shifted. You both continued with your roles at the Night Court—Azriel, cloaked in shadows as the spymaster, and you, weaving magic and medicine as a healer. The sharp edges of earlier interactions softened replaced by a mutual respect and an unspoken understanding that grew with each passing day.

One evening during a relaxed gathering at the Night Court, the air was filled with the soft murmur of conversations and the warm laughter of friends and allies. Under the gentle glow of twilight you found yourself beside Azriel discussing something that excited you greatly—a plan for a new herb garden specifically designed for healing and restorative properties.

As you outlined your ideas your enthusiasm was palpable. "I’ve been researching some rare herbs that could thrive here under the Night’s eternal stars," you explained with your hands gesturing animatedly. "There’s this one flower, Lumina Blossom, known for its potent healing capabilities with poison but incredibly rare. I think with the right care, we could cultivate it here."

Azriel watched you with a soft smile playing on his lips as he listened intently. The usual shadows that clung to him seemed to lift slightly instead replaced by a light of curiosity sparked by your passion. It was a stark contrast to the brooding intensity he was known for. His gaze was fixed on you, clearly fascinated by your knowledge and the excitement that lit up your features.

"Have you considered adding Dawnlight Belle to your garden?" he suggested. His tone encouraging but slightly hesitant, as if he were treading on unfamiliar ground. "I've heard it's a good one. Especially for salves used in treating deep wounds, which unfortunately, we encounter often here."

You paused, your expression a mix of surprise and delight. "Azriel, I'm impressed you’ve heard of Dawnlight Belle," you said while nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, it's remarkably effective for healing deep wounds and incorporating it here would indeed be incredibly beneficial. It's also a bit of home but with a practical use for the Night Court."

Azriel’s smile widened slightly. His usual reserve melting away in the warmth of the conversation. "I thought it might be useful," he said softly. "It’s important to have pieces of home with us. And you’ve done so much to find your place here. It’s only fitting your garden does the same."

The conversation flowed easily between you as it slowly had come to. And as you spoke more about your plans Azriel's responses were thoughtful, showing his deep respect for your work. It was clear that he was not only listening but also truly engaged in what you were sharing.

As the evening wore on you found yourself more relaxed and open to discussing your hopes and dreams for the garden. Azriel's attentiveness and the sincere interest he showed in your passions brought a new depth to your interaction. A sense that something meaningful was blossoming between you, rooted in mutual respect and a shared sense of purpose.

Together you sketched out potential layouts for the garden. His strategic mind complementing your creative vision. The project that was born from a casual conversation was shaping up to be a beautiful symbol of regeneration and unity. It was a confirmation to the growing relationship forming between you as you both discovered the joy of collaboration and mutual understanding.

From across the way Cassian caught Rhysand and Feyre’s attention, nodding subtly towards you and Azriel with a wide grin. "Look at that," he chuckled. "Seems our resident shadowsinger has found a bit of light. Never thought I’d see the day."

Rhys, with a sly grin and a sparkle in his eye that matched the mischief in his voice, glanced over at you two. "Oh, I’d say there’s a bit more than just gardening going on there," he quipped as he leaned back with an air of casual intrigue. "Wouldn’t you agree, Cass? Feyre? It seems our spymaster might just be more enchanted with our lovely healer than he lets on."

Cassian laughed. His loud voice booming across the room. "You're one to talk, Rhys. Just don’t start planning their mating ceremony yet. Let them at least decide if they like each other first."

Feyre, who had been quietly observing the exchange from her place next to Rhysand, chuckled and shook her head. "She seems so good for him I must admit. But don't you dare meddle, Rhysand. We know how that turns out," she teased. Her eyes gleaming with humor. "Remember the Great Cake Incident of '49?"

The group erupted into laughter, including Rhys, who rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a grin. "Alright, alright, no meddling," he conceded. His voice still laced with laughter. "But for the record, that cake deserved better and meddling here would only help them."

The evening continued with the stars twinkling above as conversations flowed around the room. Your interaction with Azriel, now less guarded and more genuine, did not go unnoticed by those who knew him best. As the night deepened, the easy banter and shared smiles between you and Azriel spoke of something that was quietly strengthening. It was clear to everyone, even without Rhysand’s playful meddling, that something significant was blossoming. Something that went beyond the professional respect of two court members.

Together, you and Azriel discovered that even in a place as mystical and imposing as the Night Court, the true magic lay not just in ancient spells or hidden power but in the connections forged through vulnerability, trust, and perhaps, the beginnings of something deeper.

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[azrielwingspan]

A TACTICAL PLOY (AZRIEL X READER)

Summary : You knew Azriel had been pining after you for a very long time but you NEEDED him to make a move. So in order to give him a little push, you made use of a very tactical weapon : Jealousy.

Warnings: None

Blue eyes. Green eyes. Brown eyes. Eyes trailing you across the room, whispering across your skin , feeding your ego. Yet your eyes sought out the hazel ones.

Shades of gold, green and brown that set a trail of fire across your skin. Eyes that made you feel. Eyes that made you want. The gold pierced through your skin, peering into your heart and soul. The green trailed across your flesh, making you yearn for things that plagued your dreams. The brown spoke of a future if you only dared to take that first step.

Ah, that was the obstacle. The first step.

You had one simple rule when it came to males.

You never chase.

So as you walked through the room, your blasé attitude making you all the more enticing, your heart betrayed you ignoring the rules your mind had set. It searched for him, desperate for the hit of ecstasy he would induce.

Once it found him, the decadent hit of euphoria rushed through your veins, leaving behind a crack in your mask. It was intentional. Every emotion, every 'slip' of the tongue, every word, every glance. He was the spymaster after all.

He glanced your way and tipped his chin in greeting.

You raised your glass, taking a sip and watched his eyes trail over you.

Longing, desiring and denying.

That was all he ever did. Denied himself of you.

You would be lying if you said you understood why he did what he did. You would be lying if you said it didn't make you doubt yourself. However, you knew for a fact he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

You would've been dense to not notice the heat in his eyes, the glances filled with unfulfilled promises, the softness behind his words and the kindness in his actions. It drove you mad some days. Drove you to the brink of breaking your rule.

You never chase.

You yearned to be wanted. You yearned to be fought for. You yearned to be loved, cherished and indulged in. So you had waited... and waited...and waited. A small part of you believed you were foolish enough to keep waiting for however long it took. Yet as a female, you had your wants and needs. There was only so much patience you could exhibit and you were currently running out of it.

Therefore, you decided to give him a little...push.

Tactic I : The art of heedlessness

You shook hands, kissed cheeks, hugged bodies , all the while never looking his way. Of course, you were aware of his presence acutely. It made it all the more fun. At one point, you had walked right past him talking animatedly with one of the guests. His scent had overtaken your senses and you had to physically stop yourself from responding to it.

His eyes, trailing you, lighting your skin on fire , the tension gasoline.

Watch me. Come to me. Talk to me.

Your eyes were fixed on your companions, their words a cacophony compared to the conversations the both of you had shared. The wine was making you bolder, impatient and lulling you into thoughts you kept at bay.

Tactic II : The art of flirtation

A subtle tuck of a strand of hair behind your ear, a soft tilt of your lips, a soft huff of laughter, an inch closer. You looked away from the male in front of you to glance down at your wine. Empty.

How many more glasses would you have to guzzle down before the spymaster grew some balls?

You pulled your hair to one side, the heat starting to stick to your neck. Looking up once again, you noticed that the males gaze in front of you was transfixed to the slope of your neck. Wonderful. Time to leave.

"Well, I should go." Turning around before he could respond, you walked away in the search of more wine.

Tactic III : The art of impelling

You didn't meet his gaze as a group of you stood near the balcony overlooking the Sidra. The flow of the water reached your ears, the sound a welcome distraction. Closing your eyes momentarily, you let the memory of the coolness of the water wash over you.

"I'll be heading home now." you spoke into the night, your companions voicing out their interjections. A small smirk and shake of the head later, you walked towards the exit not bothering to say goodbye to the male with no balls.

A few kisses on the cheek, soft smiles and polite goodbyes on the way to the exit.

"I'll drop you home." the voice swept over your skin like a shadow trailing its fingers across your skin.

"I'll be alright." you said, head turned over your shoulder.

There he was, finally...

"I insist." No arguments. That was final.

"If you insist." you say, wrapping your scarf around yourself.

Silence was the third being accompanying the both of you. You let it play its part, choosing not to say anything. It was entertaining, watching him struggle to say something...anything. He was doing a good job at hiding his emotions but he could never truly hide them from you.

After watching him suffer for a few more minutes , you say "If you're done struggling, we could teach you a thing or two on how to talk to females."

His face turned red, as his shadows skittered around.

Your house had come into view, the star lit night casting soft shadows around the both of you.

"Well.." you turned to him and said watching him under the moonlight.

"Well..." he replied watching you through his shadows.

A pang of disappointment rushed through you as you took a step back from him. "Good night then."

"Good night." he said, his voice dropping.

Giving him a final nod, you turned around not wanting him to see the look of disappointment on your face. You would never be desperate...no matter who it was.

Legs feeling like lead, you forced yourself to take that first step towards your house mustering all the will power within you. Just as you had lifted your leg off of the ground, a shadow wrapped around your wrist and tugged you backwards. A yelp made its way out of you as warm hands caught you, goosebumps making their way across your skin.

For a moment only two sets of heavy breaths could be heard. Maybe he could hear your heart thudding out of your chest. You lost track of what happened in the next few seconds as the shadowsinger pulled you into a ravishing kiss, igniting your body and jumbling your thoughts.

Lips coaxed your open, tongue sliding in to give you a taste of whisky and something darker and heady. Hands travelled down your sides, stopping at your hips only to give them a gentle squeeze. Your hands were on a path of their own, travelling into his hair and giving it a gentle tug.

All your senses were attenuated to the male in front of you. You were lost in another universe, a universe of want and need.

Suddenly, he pulls back to look down at you, his eyes wild and predatory. "I couldn't put into words what I felt..."

You brushed your lips against his, eyes fluttering shut. "Then show me...."

You could feel his lips split into a devilish grin before the both of you were engulfed by shadows.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Want You

Summary: It is unfathomable that he might want her, but it seems like there's nothing more he wants than her

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 5010 (woahhh 😦😦😦)

Warnings: tiniest bit of angst? idk i dont think theres any ngst but there is a bit of fluff hehe, and a bit too much childhood memories but eh we love it, right?

A/n: teehee i love this 🤭🥹 based on this request 😋

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

For as long as Y/n could remember, she had been fascinated with the shadowsinger.

Grabbing at his small shadows with her chubby hands, watching him sit in a corner as Rhys and Cassian bickered over which seat they wanted at the table, peering curiously as he made snowballs after snowballs to hit her older brother.

She had been fascinated, and it was very clear from day one.

Or atleast, she thought it was.

Even thinking about her actions made her cringe at how puppy-like she had been in following the spymaster around. Like the time she had forced him to tell her what the shadows spoke of late one night.

Y/n was a fairly small kid. Even compared to other five year olds, she was inches shorter than other kids. Being almost five years younger than her older brother, she barely reached his shoulders. He was also too tall for his age, being half high fae came with such advantages.

Y/n had knocked on Azriel’s bedroom door after he had retired early, claiming he had a headache from Rhys and Cassian’s foolish antics, but Y/n figured he was lying, since he did not ask mama for medicine. After all, he should have asked for at least a massage if he was in pain, no?

He had opened the door, scowling, but when he found no one outside, he glanced down in surprise at the little girl who grinned at him.

"Y/n?"

She had pushed her way in through the small space between his legs and the doorframe, dragging her big stuffed bear- Mister Bear- in behind her.

"What are you doing?" She questioned, raising onto her tippy toes and peering at the books discarded on his table.

Azriel followed her halfway before turning and getting onto his bed. "I was trying to sleep."

Y/n’s brows furrowed. "Why?"

"Because I have a headache."

"But you didn’t ask mama for medicine."

His brows furrowed. "I don’t need medicine."

"Why not?"

He sighed. "Because I am a big boy, and I am strong."

Y/n pouted. "But you should ask mama for medicine, it is good for you."

He shook his head. "I don’t want that."

Y/n huffed at his silliness, but then tugged her stuffed bear upright and clutched it to her chest as she moved closer to the bed. It was hard trying to get on without help, so she pushed mister Bear onto the mattress, then splayed her hands wide onto the surface and lifted one leg. Bent at the knees, she put it as high as it would go before trying to pull herself up onto the bed.

"What are you doing?"

Y/n didn’t respond, simply wiggling her way on the bed, breathing heavily. But she had a mission, and she was focused on that. She didn’t have time for breathlessness. She grabbed mister Bear and dragged him over to Azriel, placing him next to the confused boy.

"Whenever I’m sick, mama says to cuddle. And because I will be sleeping with mama, you can have mister Bear instead."

Azriel’s brows furrowed. "I’m not sick."

Y/n rolled her eyes and flopped down on the bed, mister Bear between the two, as if he were their baby. "Whatever." She looked up at the ceiling, then glanced back at Azriel, an excited smile on her face. "Your shadows can talk right?"

Confusion still marred his face, a hint of curiosity in his eyes as he nodded.

"Then they can tell you stories too, right?" He remained silent, seemingly contemplating. But Y/n continued, almost complaining, ignoring his lack of speech. "I keep asking mama to tell me stories, but she says she doesn’t know more. She says she has told me all the stories she knew, and now she doesn’t have any more."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Y/n giggled. "So your shadows can tell me stories, silly."

Azriel sighed. "They can’t tell stories to you."

She pouted. "Why not? Do they not like me?"

"No, they like you. But they can’t speak, like you and I."

"Then how do you understand them if they don’t speak?"

He paused. "They can talk to me, but they don’t speak loudly. Think of it as Rhys talking to you without speaking, with his mind."

Y/n huffed dramatically. "At least do they tell you stories before sleeping?"

He shook his head quietly, and Y/n pushed to her feet, wobbling on the soft mattress that had taken Azriel over months to get accustomed to. Y/n didn’t understand why Azriel kept sleeping on the floor despite having such a good bed. After all, why would he want to sleep on the cold floor when he had a bed?

"I am going to mama then. Don’t bother mister bear too much, okay?" He nodded, and watched Y/n get off the mattress with great difficulty before skipping over to the door and leaving. "Night, Azzie!"

Or the time she had chosen to play with Azriel, making Rhysand sulk for over a week.

"She is my sister!"

Azriel sat quietly on the ground and watched amidst Y/n’s dolls and kitchen toys, a pink kettle and small cups littering the space around his legs.

"Rhys, that is unfair. You didn’t want to play with Y/n before, so you can’t get mad now." Their mother tried to step in, her voice gentle. Despite that, Y/n glared defiantly at her older brother, chin lifted in a way she had so often seen her father stare down at his people.

"But she is my sister! I want to play now, come Y/n."

She stuck a tongue out. "I don’t want to play with you. You are mean."

"No I’m not!"

"You pull my hair."

"I don’t!" He very nearly whined, looking up at their mother with pleading eyes. She simply shrugged, because he did, in fact, pull Y/n’s hair sometimes.

When he got no help from his mother, he abruptly stepped forward and grabbed Y/n’s small hand, tugging her away from Azriel. "You can’t play with him, you are my baby sister."

Instantly, tears began pooling in Y/n’s eyes, and she jerked back, trying not to skid across the ground. "I don’t like you Rhysie! Go away!"

Rhys persisted, fury and jealousy that his sister chose his friend over him flashing over his face.

Mama had to step in, then.

"Rhys, let go right this moment!" Her stern voice echoed in the room, and even Azriel pushed to his feet, watching the scene unfold warily.

Rhys’s eyes clouded with angry tears as he glared up at mama, then Y/n, and dropped her hand. Almost pushed it away from him, and then turned and stomped out. Y/n watched him go, scowling at his back until he was out of sight, and then she wiped her tears and turned back to Azriel, smiling. Mama watched Rhys too, and then she turned to Azriel and offered him a gentle tilt of her lips, patted his head, reassured him that Rhys would come around, and then left them to play.

Later, Y/n would feel bad about refusing to play with her brother when at dinner he chose to sit on the chair farthest from Y/n. When he glared and hissed at Azriel to sit in Rhys’s place next to Y/n. He used to throw tantrums if anyone else sat next to her, because he had claimed that particular chair as his, but now he refused to even look at her as he angrily scarfed down his rice.

Y/n had turned to look at her mama in concern, who only told her to give him time. She had tried to, but after an hour, she had gotten bored and wandered into Rhys’s room, ready to play before bed.

Which was a wrong decision, as Rhys mocked and taunted her, then told her to go play with Azriel instead.

Even the next day, when Y/n got dressed in her thickest jacket to go play in the snow with her brother as their weekly tradition, she found him playing with other kids instead. He ignored her most of the time, even when she accepted that he wasn’t going to play with her and settled down on the porch, hands under her chin, watching sadly as he laughed and giggled with other kids.

Eventually, as the week had come to an end, he had gone back to his own seat. Y/n had to apologise, had even begged mama to let her bake Rhys’s favourite cookies with her as a peace offering, for Rhys to give her a smile.

Mama had to sit all the boys down from then on and make them agree to play together with Y/n, and that Rhys being her brother did not mean she could not play with others. It had taken a lot to get Rhys to agree, and when he nodded, he had still grumbled and glared.

She had been lost in thought the entire day, mainly after she had walked into the kitchen and found Azriel staring at her like he had been caught stealing cookies. He had left quickly after that, mumbling something about meetings and Rhys. Memories aside, as Y/n lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling almost three centuries later now, she couldn’t figure out why she felt so drawn to Azriel.

Sure, she had been a kid, and most kids liked other kids. But even as she grew up, that sense of friendship and companionship she felt with Azriel grew, morphing into something deeper, something more.

Sure, it could be infatuation, but this felt like it was so much more than that, something purer, something more emotional.

It was as if every time she saw him, her bones shifted, her ribs expanded, wishing to be closer to him. It was like his very soul kept tugging at her.

She had an inkling of what this was, but it was just that. An inkling.

Because she had not felt that crack, that snap, that mama had used to describe her own mating bond. She had said it felt like a sudden appearance of a new limb she didn’t know existed, the sudden breath of air after spending years asphyxiated.

No, Y/n had not yet felt any feeling like that, and it left her confused and saddened everyday. If anything, all she felt when seeing Azriel resembled the feeling of soft, warm sunlight on her skin, the slow warming of her freezing limbs after sitting in front of a bonfire.

What she felt was not quick, a sudden realisation. It was a soft, gentle awakening over the years.

And she could not wait to feel everything the stories had described.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

The past few weeks had been… not fun, to put it in a nice way.

Y/n could not find Azriel anywhere. Everywhere she went, all she encountered was his fading, lingering scent. Not him though. It was as if he was actively trying to avoid her.

In the mornings, she’d go to the training ring, and he’d be absent. The library, his study, the whole house of wind.

He was gone.

Even Rhysand didn’t know where he was. And if he wasn’t on any mission, where was he?

Mor didn’t know, neither did Amren. Cassian was Y/n’s last option.

She found him in the kitchen, chopping a small loaf of bread into thick slices. He only glanced up when Y/n scuffed her boot against the ground.

"Hey, Y/n, what’s up?"

She sighed, walking closer and leaning against the kitchen counter. "Do you know where Az is?"

Instantly, his shoulders bunched up. The movement was almost imperceptible, but Y/n clocked it.

"No, I haven’t. I’ve been looking for him myself." He mumbled, and Y/n knew he was being sincere. But the slight hesitation in his eyes, the small pause before he spoke, told Y/n that he knew something, if not his location.

"Is there a reason you think he’s gone off somewhere?"

He didn’t meet her eyes. "Uh- no."

"Cassian."

"Y/n."

"It’s a bad thing to lie."

"I’m not-"

"Mama used to say you were the nicest of us all."

He paused, glancing up at her skeptically. "Lying is bad."

Her lips quirked up. "Oh, so you know."

He rolled his eyes. "Sod off."

A silence that surrounded the two sobered Y/n up.

"Cass, I need to know what happened." A beat. "Please."

He looked away. "He made me swear not to tell."

"Is he mad at me? Is that why he’s left without telling anyone?"

He shook his head. "The complete opposite, if I’m being honest. He’s not mad at you."

"Then what is it, Cass?"

He sighed. "Y/n… I know I shouldn’t tell you, but…"

"But?"

"But I know Az would likely never say, and just wallow in his own head. I’m just telling you for his and your good, right?" Y/n could see the war waging in her friend’s head, and she felt bad for forcing him, but Y/n couldn’t stand going in circles.

"Yes, Cassian, now will you tell me?" It took a lot of effort to hide her frustration, but she somehow did it, watching him expectantly.

"He said you’re mates-"

Her ears began ringing the longer she stood there, eyes seeing but not watching as Cassian stopped speaking.

Her mind went back to a few days ago, the day since Azriel began avoiding her.

He felt it then. That morning.

Oh.

No wonder he left.

"So he found out?" Y/n breathed, more to herself than him, eyes unfocused.

"You- you knew?!"

"I had an inkling." She admitted.

Cassian nodded quietly, then pointed the knife in his hand at Y/n. "You better not throw me to the wolves if you decide to confront him."

Y/n offered him a weak smile in response. "No promises." She paused, searching for a good enough excuse to leave. "Thank you, Cassian. I would have lost my mind had you not told me."

He shrugged, turning away to grab an apple. "I’m nice like that."

He was, because he acted like he didn’t notice the way Y/n kept shifting on her feet, glancing at the door, wishing she could leave. He simply turned away, as if he was dismissing her and not her wanting to get out of there.

She gladly took the opening and hurried out, making her way up the stairs and back into her bedroom. Closing the door with a quiet thud, she walked over to the bed and settled on the edge, clutching the soft fabric of the covers under her palms.

In the quiet safety of her bedroom, she let herself wallow a bit.

Did he not want the bond?

I mean, who’d fault him.

He probably wanted someone nice, someone soft. And Y/n was none of that. She was all hard edges, kicking taunts and screaming boldness.

She was loud. She was a smartass and she was shameless when it came to being selfish. While Azriel… he liked to help people, his past making him want to do more good in order to make himself feel worthy.

She knew what people saw when they looked at her, and it was not pretty. At least, to her it was not.

She didn’t want to be the way she was. She wished she was sweet, wished she offered soft smiles instead of snarls and smirks. Knew that Azriel, if given the choice, would pick anyone else over her.

The bond clicking for him and eliciting such a response was to be expected. After all, why would he want her? Not to mention, if he did want to see where this path led him, her brother would go feral.

She sighed, leaning back on her hands and staring up at the ceiling.

But did all of that give him a right to try and keep her in the dark?

Sure, it had barely been a month, and maybe he was going to tell her about the bond, maybe he just needed time to settle his thoughts and come to terms with having her as his mate, having lost his chance to have someone he truly wanted as his mate. But she deserved to know, did she not?

He should have come to her first. Instead of going away for weeks on end, he could have come to her, told her to her face that he didn’t want the bond. She would have appreciated that more than… than whatever this was.

But now no one can change the past, or predict the sequence of events to come. It would be of no use to sit and wish for things. The only option Y/n let herself come onto was waiting for him to come home, and then confront him.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

It took two more days for Y/n to catch a stronger whiff of his scent in the house of wind.

Not his lingering scent that had begun to fade as days went on, but one that told her he had been in the exact sitting room she stood in, and he had been there very recently.

It took her barely ten more minutes to find him in the training ring, pummeling a dummy, shirtless and sweaty.

Poor thing.

The dummy looked ready to split at the seams if he didn’t stop, and so she stepped in, clearing her throat.

"Long day?"

He stilled, shoulders heaving. But didn’t turn.

The setting sun cast long shadows over the sand pit, his already large figure looking larger than ever.

"Something like that."

She hummed, crossing her arms and leaning against the archway. "Heard tea helps."

"Not in the mood for it."

A shadow slithered across the ground towards Y/n, but it froze just a moment before touching her boots. Looking up told her that Azrie had turned halfway, his eyes fixed on the rogue little thing.

"What are you in the mood for, then?"

Finally, he lifted his gaze to meet hers, the hazel set ablaze. "To be left alone."

The lazy smile she had fixed on her face faded, and she straightened, tightening her gloves as nonchalantly as she could.

She did not miss the way her chest sang at the way his eyes followed her movements, nor did she miss the barely there intake of breath as she stepped into the ring. "Too bad, I am in the mood for a tussle."

"I’m not fighting you."

"But I will be fighting you."

His brows furrowed. "Same thing."

"No."

He released a breath, sounding oh so exasperated, like he hadn’t tested her patience for a month straight. "Y/n, I really am in no mood to-"

"Well too-" punch "-freaking-" punch "-bad."

She paused, her chest expanding to pull in enough air for the next round of punches she flexed her finger for. He watched her warily, hunched over slightly as he held his bare abs.

He’s half naked.

Not my problem.

Your fantasy, though.

She shook her head, dislodging the thought along with stray strands of hair sticking to her skin as he straightened, his eyes concerned.

"Y/n, what-"

She didn’t let him get another word in before she threw another punch towards his abdomen. This time, he had enough time and instincts to shoot his hand out and hold her fist away from him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Her eyes narrowed in on him, the pit of anger in her chest bubbling over, beginning to poison her veins. "What is wrong with me? Me, Azriel?"

He had the decency to look chagrined as he dropped her fist and took a step back, his eyes searing hers.

"I’ll tell you what’s wrong." She mused, her teeth gritted as she took a step to mirror him. Another punch was flying through the air before she could stop herself, snapping his face to the side.

"Y/n, that’s enough-"

Another punch, this time at his pectorals and finally, a tether seemed to snap in him.

His arm came up to intercept her next hit, his eyes alight with fury, and he pushed her off of him, lips twisting in a sneer. "What has gotten into you? Why are you acting like a bloodlusting animal?"

A pang echoed through her chest at his words, her eyes narrowing. "Is that what you think of me? An animal?"

Azriel’s brows furrowed. "What- no-"

Y/n launched herself on him, teeth bared as a guttural snarl ripped through her throat. Before her nails could make contact with his heaving shoulders, though, he had her pinned to the ground, sand clouding the air around them.

For a long moment, she struggled against him, a strangled sound, almost an angry sob, spilling from her mouth. But when the weight on her refused to budge, she stopped, panting heavily as she glared up at him.

Azriel’s gaze remained unwavering as he bore down on Y/n, confusion and fury alike rippling off of him.

"Now, will you tell me like a normal freaking person what bit you, or am I going to have to chain you like a beast and get your brother?"

She scoffed, pushing against his hold, however futile her efforts were. It gave her a sense of satisfaction at the low grunt he let out and that was all that mattered. "Of course, I am, after all, a beast to be chained."

He scowled. "Y/n you need to stop taking everything I say in the wrong meaning. Stop putting words in my mouth."

"Well, if you put words in your own mouth, I wouldn't have to. But you seem to have a talent of hiding away for days on end instead of talking things out."

His brows furrowed. "Is that what this is about? Me going away for barely a month?"

Her brows rose, incredulity taking over the rage that had been blazing through her not a moment ago. "No, Azriel, this is about you tucking tail and fleeing when you really should have talked to me."

Understanding dawned on his features, the shadows cast by the almost set sun making the difference starker. "Cassian told you."

"No one told me sh- anything, Azriel." She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Not even you." Y/n could tell Azriel was beginning to lose his patience, frustration evident in the set of his shoulders, so she hurried to add. "I figured it out myself."

His jaw tightened, a muscle feathering as he pushed himself off her into a kneeling position, head turned away from her.

She scrambled to follow, staring at him accusingly. "What? Nothing to say?"

"Y/n, I don't know-" He sounded so helpless, so lost, that all fight drained out of Y/n. She hadn’t expected him to tell her he wanted her, or even give a good enough excuse as to why he didn't even talk to her about it. She'd already figured he didn't want her or the bond, and she wouldn't have cared. She wasn't going to force herself upon him. But him sounding so dejected, so… heartbroken, it broke something in her too.

"I don't want the bond, Az. But you could have told me…" She trailed off, swallowing when he turned to her, his eyes wide.

"You- you don't?" His voice broke towards the end. Y/n stared at him, wondering if she was misunderstanding the emotions on his face for desperation instead of relief, then shrugged coolly, trying to not let her feelings show, like she always did in emotional situations.

"I mean, if you don't want it, I don't want it. I mean, I get it, why would you want it anyway-"

"Y/n I- I want it."

Her brows rose. "Huh?"

"I do, I really do."

She raised an unimpressed brow. "You really do?"

He scowled. "Yes, Y/n."

"Then why’d you run off?"

"I- I was scared."

She scoffed, undeniable hope beginning to take root in her heart. "Of me?"

"No!" He looked horrified she had even uttered such atrocious words, and slowly, Y/n began to humour the possibility that he really was not playing a sick prank on her. "I- I thought you wouldn’ want it."

She nodded sagely. "And running away instead of just asking me about it gave you answers you needed. Or maybe it gave me a change of mind and made me suddenly like you a lot, right?"

He huffed, looking down at his lap. "You can stop now."

"Of course, I’m too loud for you, right?"

He released a breath, pushing to his feet and dusting off his pants. "I know what you’re trying to do, and it won’t work."

"I am doing nothing but stating what you’re thinking."

He turned to her, looking thoroughly unamused as he extended an arm. "Would you like to sit here and continue bullying me into saying something I don’t want to say, or are you going to come with me and break the news to your brother?"

"I think I’m fine here, thank you." She mused, leaning back on her hands as she grinned up at him.

He remained emotionless, though the corner of his lips ticked up. "Come on, up."

She pouted. "No."

He did not move, and neither did she. Eventually, he gave up and crouched next to her, hands hanging from his knees. "Why not?"

"It’s your job to convince him." She shrugged.

He reached out, and Y/n forced herself to sit still, trying not to move even an inch in case he stopped whatever it was he was doing. She held still as he grabbed a stray strand of her hair between his thumb and index finger, rubbing it. His whole being seemed to be focused on that act, the texture of the strands.

A cool breeze tickled the nape of her neck, sending shivers down her spine and her hair swaying. It seemed to break him out of his reverie, and he lifted his gaze to meet her eyes, molten and soft.

"Y/n, I mean it. I want this, you. Have for a long time."

"How long?" She mumbled, not willing to just accept the confession. But that’s just how she was. And he knew that, and the fact that he still wanted her was beyond her.

This time, his smile grew as he leaned in, his hand dropping her hair and grabbing her jaw instead. "Over a century, if my maths is correct."

She rolled her eyes. "And to think all this drama could have been avoided if you had just talked."

He raised a brow, poking her arm with the hand that wasn’t occupied with holding her face. "It could also have been avoided had you said something."

She lifted her chin. "Why should I? I’m a female."

He snorted, the sound of incredulity so at odds with the gentle swipe of his thumb on her cheek. "So?"

"So, I’m not the one who should make the first move. You should, and yet I had to come here and ask you to-"

"Punch and bully me, you mean."

She rolled her eyes again, moving to push the hand that still poked her arm away. "Whatever I do it always seems like bullying to you."

He said nothing, just tugged her face closer and placed his lips at her forehead.

Blood surged to her neck and face, hot and quick, as he pulled back to smile at her. He gently grabbed her hand and pulled her up so she stood toe to toe with him, gazing down at her with emotions she had never seen in him before.

At least, not for her.

She didn’t know what to do with herself under that gaze. Was her hand placement too awkward? Was her head lifted too high? Was she looking at the right feature on his face?

She could not even begin to let herself think about his words.

Stop, it’s not that serious.

I want this. Want you.

For over a century.

It was unbelievable, so inconceivable, that Y/n could not even begin to process the fact that he did actually reciprocate her feelings, and it was not just because of a sacred bond.

She needed at least days to get herself to take in the information he had dumped on her, and now she understood why he had run off. Especially now that the pull on her ribs was stronger, firmer.

He rested his forehead against hers, blissfully unaware of the turmoil inside Y/n, caressing the skin on her face softly before sighing, the rising moon highlighting the apples of his cheeks and the slight tint of red.

"I’ve been so scared to say anything, thinking you wouldn’t like me back ro Rhys would bite my head off, but now I can say we’re mates and he wouldn’t do anything."

Y/n giggled. "He might still beat you to a pulp."

He chuckled, shaking his head and pulling Y/n into his chest. "Well, getting beat up is still better than being barred from loving you."

Her heart did a silly little jump, but she pulled away to point a finger at him, frowning. "Your flowery words will do nothing to get you out of punishment."

His brows rose in question. "Punishment? For what?"

She turned away. "For making me lose my mind for a month straight, thinking you didn’t want me."

He snorted. "Have you seen you? No male would reject you, not even someone who’s lost his mind."

 She smiled secretly as she proceeded to walk down the stairs, disbelief at how things had turned out and his quiet steps following behind with a sigh. "You’re saying I belong in an asylum with a mental-"

"Y/n-"

"Oh I’ll just shut up then-"

"Y/n."

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[utterlyotterlyx]

Another Love

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Based on this ask

Summary - Azriel knows you'd never leave his side, no matter what, but when his new situationship with Elain takes over his every living moment and he takes advantage of your feelings, you make the only decision you can to save yourself only for him to hurt you in a way you never thought he could.

Warnings - ANGST, mega fluff, swearing, neglect, abuse of feelings, mentions of death, slight grovelling (I’m more of an epic admissions girlie you all know this), lots of sadness.

Word Count - 4.9k oops

The clock ticked away, idly counting the seconds by, seconds that turned to minutes, and minutes that turned to hours, hours that Azriel had seemingly forgotten about the promise he had made to take you to the theatre.

The cobalt blue bow in your hair, that you had chosen to perfectly match him, swayed sadly as you moved about your room with a heavy heart, hanging up the dress you had bought especially for the occasion and changing into something more comfortable to wallow in self-pity.

It had become normal, his lateness, his nightly visits became later and shorter until they had stopped all together, well, that is until he needed something from you, and you would give him whatever he asked for, no matter how much it hurt you.

You had been a part of the Inner Circle for over 500 years, you were one of the originals, growing up in the camps with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel, Rhys' mother protected you fiercely, and you were very close to Selene, your chosen sister. You were the one they turned to for everything, you were wise and brutal, an incredible warrior and tactician, but also soft and kind; you were the blue break in a sky of storm clouds, you were the spring breeze that cut through the edge of winter, you were everything.

A thing Azriel knew all too well.

It didn't surprise you when Azriel had become fond of Elain, like it didn't surprise you when he had pined after Mor for all those years, completely looking over you in the process. Elain was a soft and fragile thing, she was quiet and graceful, and Azriel was completely besotted by her. A fact that made your heart curse your stupidity, cursing the hope you had willed into it that maybe he would finally see you.

It was no secret that you and Azriel were the closest out of all of the members of your growing family, you had shared 500 years of respect and adoration for one another.

Azriel was by your side when Selene had so brutally lost her life, he had held your hand through the depression and brought you back to life. Azriel knew every single thing that you loved and hated, he knew what every facial expression meant, he knew every tick of your body language which silently conveyed how you were feeling. Azriel knew you better than anyone, even better than he knew himself. The map of you laid etched bare on the back of his hand, a map he used to scour daily, but now barely even glanced at.

It wasn't so one sided.

You knew Azriel better than anything, and you knew a lot. 500 years of life pointed to a rich knowledge. You were the one who cleaned him up after a mission, you're the one who mended his broken bones and washed his turmoil away. You were the one who helped him overcome his insecurities with his hands. You were the one his shadows shot to at family dinners. You were the one who sang him to sleep when his demons had become to much. There was nothing you wouldn't do for Azriel, even if it meant standing on the side-lines until he wanted you.

Moonlight streaked along the floor of your bedroom, cascading across the pale blue of your comforter and drifting along the edges of your antique furniture. The dress you had wanted to wear to the theatre hung off the frame of your mirror, rippling softly in the gentle breeze that entered through the slightly ajar window.

It was silly to feel upset, you knew Azriel didn't owe you any of his time, but you had really thought he would pull through, especially after you had told him how much you missed spending time with him.

Interrupting your damaging thoughts, your door opened to reveal Azriel, who looked annoyed and not at all in knowing of his lateness or the promise that now lay in tatters in your chest. From the look on his face, you knew instantly that Elain was the one who plagued his mind, she was the cause of it every time he had come to see you recently.

Huffing, Azriel trudged to your cream living area, propping his feet up on the antique table you had asked him to be careful with far too many times and sinking into the cushions. He hadn't spared you a glance as he entered, he didn't note his colour in the form of a bow in your perfectly styled hair, he didn't see the sadness in your eyes laced with that naïve hope that he may have turned up to apologise for being late. He didn't see you.

"What happened this time?" You inquired, wrapping yourself tighter into your robe and sliding into the seat beside him, tucking your legs underneath you and propping your head in your palm as you stared at him.

Azriel was beautiful, scars and demons and all, the height of his cheekbones, those hazel oceans of a thousand emotions, the golden skin and arched brows, the curve of his muscles under his second skin, everything about him was intoxicating.

"Lucien," Azriel through his head back and closed his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose, "I was so close to kissing her, so close, Y/N. And then Lucien walked in, he ruined it."

The revelation had stung, he'd never admitted to you to being close to kissing Elain before, it was always a myriad of stolen glances and ghosting touches, of hushed words laced with a million differing meanings. But never a kiss.

Azriel paid no mind to the hurt that radiated from you, he knew it was there, he always knew it was there but he couldn't focus on it.

Only an idiot could be blind to the clear feelings you had toward Azriel, the way you looked at him was not the way a friend looked at another friend, no matter how close they were. Azriel knew that he could never truly push you away, no matter how much you were hurting you'd never leave, he knew that, he knew you'd always be there for him to fall into.

It was so awfully wrong, but he lapped in serenity you gave him, in that unwavering loyalty, and he had no intention to stop drinking from your fountain of love.

"Lucien is her mate, Az. He's bound to not like whatever it is that's going on between you," your voice was gentle and full of understanding, your hand rested on his shoulder and he felt any anger disappear almost immediately. That's what your touch alone could do to him, bring him immeasurable peace.

"I know," he sighed, opening his eyes and turning his head to the side to look at you, a small smile tugged at his lips when he noticed how pretty you looked, with your hair parted just how he liked it, and with a bow tied neatly at the back, "I still think that the cauldron was wrong," your face faltered when he immediately continued on his weekly rant, "It gets it wrong sometimes, we know that. It's wrong, it has to be."

All you wanted was for Azriel to be happy, he deserved it more than anyone you knew. Rhys had found Feyre, who you adored tremendously. Cassian had found Nesta, who had become a very good friend of yours. So, you couldn't blame Azriel for believing that Elain was fated to be his, three brothers for three sisters. Even you had to admit that it made sense, The Mother moved in mysterious ways.

You plastered a smile on your face, you vision catching the satin of your new dress moving softly against the breeze, "Maybe it is," Azriel hummed at your words before continuing on, listing everything he adored about Elain.

"I wish sometimes that she was you, you know? That her and I could be like this, with no one watching over us, to be able to spend time alone and do whatever we wanted to do and talk about anything," it was like he didn't realise what he exactly he was wishing for.

Azriel wanted you to be Elain, so that he could have the life he dreamed of. Elain. Not you. Elain.

You weren't good enough for him.

"I hope you get to that point one day, Az," your voice was strained from holding in your strangled sobs, "I'm tired, can we talk about this more tomorrow?"

"Sure," Azriel smiled at you, rising from his seat and heading to the door, standing in the doorway and looking back at your form still glued to your spot, "I like your bow, Y/N. Blue suits you, always has," and then he closed the door behind him, you waited a few moments before letting your sobs flow through your lips and ripping that damned bow from your hair.

Azriel would never see you the way you begged to be seen, and you couldn't sit around and be the one he fell back to when life wasn't going his way.

More days had passed, more days of Azriel complaining to you, more days of Azriel wishing that Elain and you had switched paths so that he could finally get what he was owed.

Azriel didn't care for your tear stained skin, he didn't care for your weary eyes whenever you spoke of Elain to you.

It was awful that he knew exactly what he was doing, he was abusing your relationship with him, he knew you'd never walk away from him, he knew you'd never be able to put your foot down and tell him to cut it out.

The idea of a mate had him completely obsessed, obsessed to the point that he became blind to what was right in front of him, what had always been in front of him. That blind faith in your loyalty crumbled in his fingers once Rhys had told him that you had decided to purchase your own home in the city, a home away from them all.

"What?" Azriel had asked from his place at the dinner table, bewildered by the news given to them once he had asked where you were.

Nesta knew the exact reason why you had decided you separate yourself from them, you couldn't handle the rejection anymore, and you couldn't begin to heal from the decades worth of heartbreak under the same roof as Azriel and Elain. Nesta knew you held no ill feeling toward her youngest sister, you were too kind for that, you knew it wasn't her fault that Azriel came to you each time something went wrong in their situationship, but that didn't make it hurt any less.

"She left, Az," Mor had cried when Rhys had pulled her to one side that afternoon to tell her that you had decided to move into the home that Rhys had bought you after you had made it clear that you needed your own space, and Rhys had spent an hour trying to convince his cousin that your decision was not impacted by anything any of them did.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Azriel asked his brother who frowned, Feyre grabbed Rhys' hand and squeezed it in hers, "She can't just leave, Rhys."

"She has every right to after everything she's done for all of us, she deserves some peace," Rhys spoke calmly, snapping his fingers and allowing the sentient home to rid the plates and serving dishes from the table.

Azriel was speechless, he felt a frantic pull in his body, one that was poisoned with desperation at the thought of you being anywhere else than under the roof of the River House, the home you had spent a century redecorating and perfecting, paying special attention to each room to make it feel as homely as possible.

He didn't believe it as his chair groaned against the floor and he took off up the stairs toward your room, pushing his way through the doors to find it completely empty. No pictures hanging on the walls, no lines of hooks containing an array of ribbons in different hues, no dresses draped over your mirror, no antique furniture. It was all gone, and the scent of you that was usually so strong that it drowned him was a whisper in the atmosphere.

You had left.

Anger bubbled within him, how could you leave without saying anything? How could you move out of your shared home without a single word? How could you leave him after 500 years at his side?

Azriel flung open the doors to your balcony, a balcony plush with fresh flowers and greenery, he flexed his wings and hurtled himself into the starlit sky, allowing his shadows to peel from his body and search every inch of Velaris until they returned to him reeking of your scent and pulled him down to a small townhouse along the bank of the Sidra.

It was a charming home, pale brickwork, large bay windows, golden light emitting from them, and a large garden full of rich wildlife and botanicals. Your scent flowed from the closed oak door, lavender and honey with a hint of firewood and he found himself following that smell up the winding path until he was knocking on your door.

Golden light flowed from the home as you opened the door. You were dressed in denim overalls that were spatted with cream paint, you hair was loosely bound on the top of your head, and your face was full of uneasy surprise as you looked at him, "Az, what are you doing here?"

Azriel pushed past you and stood in the centre of your hallway, listening to your deep exhale as you closed the door. The space was pretty, it was very you, the walls were half painted cream from their original sage colour that you were obviously painting over, the coving was white and saturated with intricate little sketches of leaves, the carpet was a rich brown and had clearly been laid that day from how interrupted it looked, the only pattern on it being the imprints of your bare feet. Azriel didn't stop his shadows as they extended from him and scoured each part of your new home, nodding with approval and curling around your fingers in understanding adoration.

White sheets were draped over your perfectly placed furniture, to protect it from the paint no doubt, and the same tarp lay at the foot of the walls to protect the carpet. Music drifted softly about the room, and boxes upon boxes of books lay open, with some of them idly placed on shelves to get them out of the way to be sorted properly at a later date.

"It's true? You've really left," he noted the intricately presented kitchen, white cabinets and exposed wooden beams, just like you always wanted.

You rounded him, walking into your new living space, bending down to pick up one of your plant pots before placing it on the window ledge, your back faced him but he could see the pain in your features through the reflection in the window, "Yes, I live here now."

"No. No. You're coming home with me, this is ridiculous," his heart was beating a mile a minute, he couldn't think straight, all that was consuming him was the reality that his fear had come to fruition, that the one person he believed would never leave him had actually walked away.

"I'm not coming back, Azriel," you told him softly, and he saw your shoulders rise and fall with each deep inhale of breath you forced your lungs to take.

Then you turned to him, in the middle of the home that you were trying to make yours, a home away from him, "I thought you'd never leave me. You can't leave me. You're my best friend, I need you."

"No, you don't. You need someone to fall back onto when life isn't going your way, that's all I am to you now," you felt your heart breaking, you felt it shattering in your chest, "I can't be the one you turn to when something becomes between you and Elain. I can't be the one you wish was her. I can't do it anymore, Az. You've taken advantage of me for too long. You promise me the world and show up empty handed. You don't realise I even exist until you need someone to complain to and I just can't do it anymore."

Azriel knew every word you were saying was the truth, he knew he had been using you, but he never expected you to actually walk away from him, you were supposed to love him too much to leave.

Your heart was in the palm of his hands and he knew it, he knew you'd spent hundreds of years falling deeper in love with him each passing day whilst he pined for someone else. The fact of your departure made a bitter monster appear in his mind, he allowed it to tug on the venom in his heart, he allowed it to control him, "Aren't you supposed to be in love with me?"

Azriel watched your eyes widen and a breathless gasp fall from your lips, "You know?"

The Shadowsinger scoffed, "Of course I know. Only a fool wouldn't be able to see it," he saw your face contort into painful sorrow but did nothing to stop himself from saying, "I've known for years. I've known that you'd never leave, you've always been the one that I come to for anything I need and you never complain or tell me to leave. You made it easy to take advantage of you."

A tear slid down your cheek but Azriel made no move to wipe it away, "I want you to leave."

"I'm not leaving without you."

Fire roared in your eyes, "You have no right to command me after what you've knowingly done. I honestly thought that you didn't know, that it was innocent and that you just needed my advice. Now I know that you've willingly abused my kindness, Azriel, you can rot in hell," the tears didn't stop flowing from your eyes, your voice was strained and sore, your chest was so tight that you thought it may stop beating all together, "Get. Out!"

Azriel had left you then, he had left your door wide open and soared into the skies, leaving you in the home that was now tainted by his deceit.

It had been months since Azriel had seen you, Nesta and Feyre had practically forbid him from going anywhere near your home, that being from the land or sky. But that didn't stop him from allowing his shadows to slither under your front door or linger in the streets, he was desperate to know how you were.

Azriel hated himself for what he had said to you, he hated himself for taking advantage of you. In some way he tried to justify it, you were too good for him, he didn't want to ruin you, but it was clear that he already had.

Your absence had left a void that no one could fill, not even Elain despite her efforts, even the thought of her made his stomach drop and sickness swirl to the point where he couldn't bring himself to be around her. All Elain did was remind him of how he failed you.

Azriel had tried writing to you since you wouldn't see him, he gave the letters to Feyre and Nesta, the latter of which still saw your daily, and grew colder toward him with each passing moment. Even Cassian did nothing to hide his disappointment in him, and Rhys had some very telling words to express once Feyre had told him the truth of what had happened in your home that night.

Nothing was working, things with Elain were strained and difficult, the problems between them so raw and everyone's opinions so disapproving that it created a distance between them that was unmanageable.

Then it dawned on him that nothing was working with Elain because it wasn't meant to. The person who was meant to be his had been under his nose for 500 years, and now wanted nothing to do with him.

Cassian had pulled Azriel from his thoughts by stepping through the threshold of his room, "Are you coming to training?"

"Tell me how to fix it," Azriel lifted his head from his hands and turned his head toward Cassian who sighed in reply, moving to the bed to sit beside Azriel, "I need to know how to fix it."

"Only you can figure that out, Az," Cassian spoke to him, throwing his arm over Azriel's shoulder before continuing, "Y/N loves you Az, she has for 500 years. A few months apart won't change that. You're really fucking stupid for this though, she's the only one of us who knew the exact right thing to do and say every time. Y/N deserves more than the basic requirements of respect, she deserves the world in the palm of her hand and a person who loves her more than he loves himself. Don't bother her unless you can do that."

It was the anniversary of Selene's death, and the day hadn't gotten any easier for you to deal with.

Rhys and you had made a habit of doing something together each year, though, Azriel was the one to accompany you when Rhys had gone Under the Mountain. The location was sacred to you, you and Rhys would bundle yourselves up in blankets and watch the sun set over the Sidra, you'd rehash old memories and stories, ones that you both knew the script to by heart, but that never got old.

Your High Lord had tried to convince you to come home, but didn't push you when you had told him no. Your life had began to feel rather empty without the family antics that consumed your day-to-day life.

"I miss her," you had told him sadly, your head rested on his shoulder as the sun tipped her toes into the water in the distance, the sky grew darker each passing minute.

Rhys hummed, holding you closer to his side, "So do I," he replied with equal sadness, you had all grown up together, you basically were his sister by blood, and when you both had lost her, it only made him clutch to you more, "She'd nail Az's balls to the wall for sure."

A laugh passed through your lips before it died in your throat, you had done your best to not think about Azriel despite him owning your soul, you had done your best to heal from what he had done, but even then, you missed him more than anything, "How is he?"

It was the first time you had asked about him since before you had moved to your new home which was now fully decorated and yours, thanks to Rhys, Feyre and Nesta who made it their priority to help you settle, "He's-" Rhys couldn't lie to you, he was never able to even when you were younger, "-Not great. He misses you, he hates himself for what he said to you that night."

"I'd hate myself too," you had hummed, shifting to stand on the stone ledge where you and Rhys had sat, wanting a better view of the sun as it began to disappear against the horizon.

A familiar cold kiss pecked at your ankles and you looked down to see those shadows you had missed so dearly meandering around where you stood. Cedar entered your lungs and you shivered in painful delight as his warmth curled around your back.

"Y/N," his voice was deep and rough, it was pleading, you looked to your side and found that Rhys had vanished. That damn meddler. "Please look at me."

Not able to say no to that voice, you indulged the Shadowsinger and turned on the balls of your feet to peer upward at him. Azriel had his wings neatly tucked behind his back, his hands dangled at his sides, and his head was hung low. He looked terrible.

"Why are you here?"

Azriel clenched his jaw, he didn't expect you to be happy to see him, but it didn't stop the self hatred from growing in every single cell of his body, "I know how hard today is for you, I just wanted to see if you were alright."

"Well I'm fine, so you can go now," you made a move to walk away, to take the path down the edge of the Sidra to your home which had become your haven away from reality.

Though, you didn't get very far, perhaps two steps before Azriel's fingers curled around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks and pulling you back to him, "Y/N, I don't even know how to apologise in the way that you deserve. I don't know how to say sorry and make you feel like I see and hear you."

"What I did was disgusting, I hate myself for it. I never should have taken advantage of you like that, you've done everything to help me the entire time that I've known you and I ruined everything for someone I don't even want. I've always wanted a mate, you know that, and I got so carried away with wanting it that I completely ignored the only person who's ever truly loved me for me despite all of the horrid things I have done. Elain isn't you, Y/N. No one compares to you. No one makes me feel safe like you do, no one makes me feel alive like you do, and no one can make me hope for death by their void like you do."

"I am yours, Y/N. I always have been. I couldn't be the reason you ever got hurt, I couldn't be the one to risk extinguishing that glorious fire in your soul. You are the only one I cannot bear to lose, the thought of losing you terrifies me, it always has, and instead of protecting you, I took advantage of you and pushed you away because I would rather hurt someone else with everything that I am than hurt you with just a a part of it."

"I'm so stupid for ignoring you, I'm a prick for using you as my security blanket rather than let you in, you know me better than I know myself, you love me more than I could ever imagine, and it terrified me because I couldn't let myself love you. I couldn't let myself taint you."

Azriel lifted his hands, cupping your face in his palms and you could see every inch of despair within him, that conflicted flame dancing within his soul, "I'm not asking you to forgive me, I don't think I will ever be able to forgive myself after what I've done to you. I'm not asking for anything from you. I just need you to know that no matter how severe your storm, I promise I won't leave your side, I'll stay with you through the howling winds that whip my cheeks raw and red. I will stay and hold you when the night leaves you shivering and give you space when when your searing heat pushes you into a fiery rage. I will stay and love you in whatever way you crave, whether that be from next to you or from wherever you cast me to."

"Azriel-" tears flowed freely from his eyes and you knew he meant every word he was saying. Every single word was being plucked from the core of his essence.

"I know that you're scared, and that you don't trust me. I'm scared too. But you're the only one I can face love with because I only want to feel it with you. At the end of the day I want it to be you and me, I want your early mornings and late nights, I want you on your good days and bad. I will never stop wanting you. I will never stop needing you filling my lungs like oxygen and giving me life."

Azriel dropped his forehead onto yours, and you felt your own cheeks dampening from your own tears at his words, "I love you, Y/N. I will always love you, even if you don't want me to, even if you decide to walk away from me I will not stop loving you. I am so thankful for you, and I know I haven't shown that, but if you give me one more chance, I will show you exactly the man you have made me into. I will give you the world you have always dreamed of. My soul is yours until you stop loving me. Please. Please."

"I can't stop loving you, Az. I've tried but I can't and I don't want to," his thumbs wiped your tears away and you found yourself reaching to rest your fingers on the marred flesh around his wrists, "One more chance. Don't fuck it up."

Azriel pressed his lips to your forehead, relishing in your warmth as you bundled into his chest, "You're mine."

"Take me home, Az."

"Yours or mine?"

You grinned against his chest, "How about ours?"

Authors Note

I really hope this does the ask justice x

Alternate ending incoming 👀👀

[sodapopwrites]

like calls to like

azriel x shadowsinger!reader

summary - you and azriel have been dancing around the mating bond for years. hiding the secret of your shadowsinger powers from your friends for years. before leaving for hybern to destroy the cauldron some secrets must come out and some remain unsaid. both you and azriel must deal with outcome.

work count - 3.2k

warnings - angst i suppose.

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“I’ll stay”

Amren’s words sat heavy amongst the inner circle. The town house, in all its warmth, was dark. The air of what was ahead of them settling into the space. Rhysand studied her carefully. 

“If Rhys must go to Hybern, then I am the only one of you who might hold the city until help arrives.” 

Silent still. 

He watched her eyes find his. His shadows curled around his neck. The smallest shake of his head. The smallest warning. Don’t. 

“No you’re not.” 

All heads turned towards her. 

Grim faced, she held her chin high, meeting Rhysand’s gaze. He studied her. Brows furrowed. It only took him a moment to realize what she was hinting towards. He whipped towards Azriel. Who held his gaze. Cold as ever, but wavering just slightly. With guilt more than anything. 

Amren’s silver eyes had not left hers. Watching the girl before her. The girl offering to stay behind and help. There was something like surprise, and what looked like a glimmer of approval, laced through Amren’s sharp features. Surprise that now was the time she was choosing to reveal this to Rhysand. 

The highlord in question turned his gaze back to her, and it all clicked. 

The way that his spymaster trailed behind her all these years. The way his shadows had curled around her like they followed her, and not only their master. Azriel’s insistence on training her personally. The shade that came over her features sometimes, so palpable it could almost be seen as real. 

“How?” 

The question voiced by Rhysand, but asked by all of them. Mor and Cassian studying the impassive look on Azriel’s face. Feyre looking only at Rhys, waiting for him to grow angrier. To ask the question with more insistence. 

“How do any of us have any magic?” 

Her words lingered in the air for a moment before being swatted away by Rhys’s retort. 

“Why hide it? All this time?” 

“It hid itself.” 

He waited for her to continue. Eyebrows raised expectantly. 

“I didn’t need…I didn’t know what it was until..” 

Until Rhysand had gone under the mountain. Until the loss of a friend and the fear for the rest of Prythian had swallowed her whole. Until him. Until the shadowsinger became her solace.  Until his shadows had wrapped themselves so tightly around hers that they couldn’t breath, that they had to come out. Why? She knew why. Like calls to like. But she forced it away. She didn’t want to know. Not until there was time, and there never seemed to be time. 

Her eyes flitted to Azriel. Who had pointedly not said anything. Whose eyes were locked with his Highlords in some sort of silent battle. Some silent argument about the lie of omission. 

Feyre’s hand came to rest on her mate’s arm. Severing the telepathic conversation with Azriel. Another time she seemed to say to him. 

Mor loosed a sigh. “So what do we do now?” 

Amren cast one more look towards the newly revealed shadowsinger, her ally to be in the hours coming, before saying, “We sleep. We eat.” 

Azriel, voice raw and quiet, added “And then we retaliate.” 

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He found her minutes before everyone was to depart. 

He searched her face for any sign of fear of what was to come. Any sign of regret of the admissions made last night. Her eyes were fixed to the floor. Avoiding. 

“Is he angry?” 

Her question was whispered. Barely audible. He sighed heavily. 

“Rhys is upset that he didn’t bother to notice. He’s upset that I didn’t tell him.” 

“Why didn’t you tell him? I thought it would be one of the first things you’d tell him after he came back.” 

He paused. 

“You deserved to understand it. To wield it on your own. Before anyone else could.” 

She looked up at him. Finally. Taking in his Illyrian leathers. Truth-teller by his side. His siphons glittering. He looked beautiful. Terrifying. With him those two features always seemed to blend together seamlessly. Fear and grace. Dread and delicacy. 

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The pair made their way downstairs. To where the group was readying themselves for departure. All of them dressed in the Illyrian leathers. Strapped with silver blades. 

She watched as Feyre rose to kiss Rhysand and whisper “We’ll be fine – We’ll all be fine.” 

Her eyes locked with Azriel’s. He gave her the smallest dip of his chin. As if in agreement with Feyre. 

A small promise that he’d be safe. He’d be careful. 

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Azriel forced himself not to think of her while creeping his way through the Hybern castle. 

He should have told her.

He took out another guard.

He should have told her. 

He willed himself not to worry about whether or not she’d have to wage a battle of her own tonight. Demanded that cold calm to seep through him, to keep him focused on the task at hand. 

Feyre standing in front of the Cauldron. Entranced almost. Moving to connect both halves of the book. A small glimmer of panic before it all happened.

He should have told her.

It wasn’t until the arrow pierced his chest that he let himself fall into the chasm of lament. 

It wasn’t until he could not stand on his own that he let himself think it. As chaos and betrayal raged around him it was all he could think. 

His mate.

He wasn’t even sure if she knew. 

He should have told her. He should have told her. He should have said it. 

He could feel it. The poison on the arrow tip. Weaving it’s way slowly through his entire body, through everything, shadows and all. 

He could barely think. Could barely process what was happening around him. His eyes were barely open. His blood was everywhere. On everyone. Coating his brothers. Dripping onto the ground and trickling away. Trying desperately to escape him, as everything did, as everyone did. Everyone except for her. The shadows trapped within him straining against whatever held them. Trying desperately to make their way to something familiar. To her. 

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She sat with Amren in the town house. Never speaking. Barely moving. Frozen with worry that she wouldn’t let loose. 

Amren’s silver eyes roamed over her. But she didn’t break the silence that had fallen over them in the last few hours. 

They had been gone too long. 

Something had gone wrong. 

She could feel it. Darkness simmered in her gut, behind her rib cage, under her finger nails, everywhere. Shadows buzzing like they could sense a disturbance. Like they knew something had gone awry. Like they were reaching for something. For someone.

And then it happened. In a storm it all happened at once. 

Rhysand slammed into the floor of the house. Amren lept from her seat, racing to their friends. 

Cassians wings were shredded, bleeding, almost beyond repair. 

Rhys’s face stricken with what could only be grief and rage and something else. Something she couldn’t quite place. 

Mor nowhere to be seen. 

She couldn’t see him. There were too many people in the entryway. She couldn’t see him. 

Where was he. 

“Get the book out of here” 

Rhys shoved the thing towards Amren, who let it fall to the ground. The slender female ignored Rhysands order. 

“Where is she?” 

And then she could see him. As Rhysand moved slightly, as if he'd been hit by Amren's demanding question.

He was on the ground. Arrow in his chest. Eyes closed. Barely breathing. 

A sob hurtled it’s way out of her throat, a sound so broken that it was barely a sob at all. She pushed her way through her friends. Falling to her knees before him. Ripping the arrow free of his chest. His blood spattering her hands, her face, the carpet. The faintest shadow seeped it’s way out of his wound. 

Something in her broke. Something in her shattered. Something between them snapped. 

Her mate.

She let the snap of that golden bond hit her hard.

Every bit that pent up worry, that pent up shadow, burst from her in a roaring storm. Reaching desperately, clawing for his prone form. Swirling around them. 

The force of it pushed the others back a few paces. Rhysand’s wings stretching behind him in some desperate attempt at balance. Amren’s hair whipping around her face as she held steady to shield Cassian from it. 

She had no idea how long she let the shadows rage around her, in fury, in terror, in grief.

She could hear the faintest call of her name through the tempest of black cloud. Mor. 

She let the shadows calm…slowly. Gradually they retreated within her once more. As they ebbed away they swept gently across Azriel. Through his hair, across his cheekbones, over the hole in his chest. As if they thought they could heal him. 

Her name once more echoed through the room. 

She couldn’t move. Couldn’t bring herself to raise her head from where it rested against him. 

Her mate. 

Did he even know? 

How could he not? 

Why follow her footsteps so closely? Why watch her form move through every room they shared? Why keep her secrets from his brother…His highlord? 

How could he not have known? Like calls to like. 

Why didn’t he say anything? 

Would he ever be able say anything now? 

She barely felt Mor come to kneel beside her. Barely felt Mor’s arms circle around her. Barely heard Amren repeat her earlier question. Barely registered Feyra’s gaping absence. Barely heard Rhysands explanation, his admission. High lady of the night court trapped once more in the thornes of Spring. 

Azriel’s bleeding had eased, enough to keep him alive until the healer arrived. Her shadows still circled  around his wound as if they were trying to keep the blood in his chest. As if they could do anything at all. 

She couldn’t bring herself to rip her eyes away from him. 

“Until then?” Amren demanded. “What of the cauldron – of the book?” 

It was only when Rhysand responded that she was able to look away from her mate. 

“Until then,” The high lord’s face was grim as he looked towards the door, as if he was hoping Feyre would miraculously walk through it, “We go to war.” 

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She hadn’t left his bedside. She hadn’t slept. Hadn’t eaten. As long as Azriel remained unconscious, she remained restless. 

Her eyes had lost any glimmer they once held. Her hair had gone flat and dull. Her skin pale and stretched thin. 

She didn’t move when Rhysand crept into the room and took a seat in a chair a couple feet away. He watched her pained and tentative. He watched as she ran a hand over Azriel’s forehead, sweeping the hair from it, soothing the fever ridden skin. He watched as wisps of shadow trailed along his brothers face with her fingers. 

“Why keep it a secret?”

She sniffed and straightened her spine. Still not looking at him, but acutely aware of his incessant stare. She didn’t answer. 

“A gift like that. It’s rare…It’s vital.” 

She turned to face him slowly. Her gaze full of reproach. 

“Don’t dare to lecture me about secrets.” 

Feyre Cursebreaker. High lady of the night court. 

He clenched his jaw. She spoke once more, barely more than a whisper. 

“If I had known. I would have-” 

He shook his head. Realizing now where her anger was coming from. 

“There was nothing you could have done.” 

She looked back at Azriel and something in her cracked. A tear raced it’s way down her tired face. 

“I would have gone. I would have helped. Protect her.” 

Another tear. Searing a path down her cheek. 

“I would have protected him…With my life.” 

Rhysand moved to stand and sit by her. She tensed. He stilled and settled back into his seat. 

“You protected his home.” 

“I sat idle while he lay on death’s doorstep a hundred miles away.” 

“You did exactly what you were supposed to.” 

She took a rattling breath, “And it wasnt enough”

The cold fury in her voice sent a chill down Rhysand’s spine. No. Not a chill. A shadow had stretched from her to wind it’s way up his body. Cold and unrelenting. He watched it, more calmly than he should have per chance, before slowly responding. 

“He didn’t want you to tell me you were a shadowsinger, for fear that I’d ask you to accompany us to Hybern.” 

No response. 

“He wanted you as far from that place as you could get.” 

Again no response. Rhysand sighed and ran a hand over his face. He shook the tendrils of shadow off and moved closer to her. She let him lay a hand on her shoulder. 

“He’s healing.” 

She laid a hand over the bandages around Azriel’s wound, again refusing to look at Rhys, no matter the comfort he tried to offer her. 

“He’s okay.” 

He heard a creak in the doorway. Mor leaned against the doorframe and cocked her head, beckoning him out of the room. Telling him to leave her be. He relented, withdrawing his hand from her shoulder, and closing the door behind him as he followed Mor down the hall. 

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No one spoke to her in following days. Not that it would have been any comfort to her. She could hear the whispers of her friends in the hall behind the closed door. She could feel the worry seeping up through the floorboards from the rooms below. She ignored the panic that came off of Rhys in waves. She knew what being separated from his mate was doing to him, and she just couldn’t bring herself to care. Not when her own lay stationary in bed, sweating out a fever, working a poison out of his blood stream. 

She would feel guilty later. For abandoning her family while they all suffered loses. 

Mor would come by every couple hours to try and get her to eat. It never really worked. The room was always clouded with shadow and with unspoken grief. Even Amren prefered not to enter. No one could bear the darkness that she had let consume her, that she let simmer around her. The black mist that she let settle against the carpet and pool into every corner. 

Cassian came to visit once, when he was strong enough. He stood next to the bed that she had yet to move from and stared at his best friends figure. The sight of Azriel blanched his face to a snowy white. He looked like he could be sick. He tried to play it off with a half hearted comment about how the shadows she summoned probably weren’t helping the healing process. He barely managed to get the statement out before he was met with a piercing glare, and excused himself from the room. 

Another thing she would feel guilty about later. 

She didn’t know how many days had passed. It didn’t matter. Every hour felt like years. 

She was so tired. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she had let herself sleep. 

She couldn’t look at him anymore, moving to face away from him. She remembered the last time she was in his room. In this bed. 

Weak morning light flickered through closed curtains. Her fingers tangled with his and she watched as he spun a shadow between their interlocked hands. She listened to the hum of content that rumbled through his chest and she sank further into him. Letting his warmth envelope her. He let her take control of the shadow winding it’s way down their arms. 

Like calls to like. 

She flicked it into his face and watched it disperse with a small laugh. He stared back at her. Something in his eyes. Something dangerous. Something warm and adoring. 

A golden thread wound it’s way out from her soul, from her chest, reaching for him, begging to connect with him. She pulled away and moved to start getting dressed. 

“Stay” He had whispered. 

“I have to meet Cassian. I promised him we’d train at seven. It’s seven thirty.” He rolled his eyes and stretched his arms over his head. Watching as she sat on the edge of his bed. 

“He’s going to be pissed you’re late.” 

She let out a huff of annoyance at his response while she tugged on her boots. He watched her tie the laces and slowly let one of his shadows creep towards her. It wrapped around her hands and her movements stilled. 

“I have to go.” It was a whisper. 

He rolled over, closer to her now, and ran a hand down her back in what could have been a soothing gesture, if he hadn’t been trying to get her to come back to bed. 

“Don’t” 

Her tone a mock stern. 

He tried to hide a smile, “Why not?” 

“Because if I stay here with you a moment longer I’ll do something stupid.”

He wasn’t even trying to hide the smirk now. 

“Like what?” 

She looked at him, lips pressed into a thin line like she was actually nervous. Maybe she was. 

Like fall in love with him. That’s what he knew she wouldn’t say. He nodded his relent. 

“Better hurry. Cassian is apparently taking Feyra to the Symphony today.” 

She let out a snort trying to imagine the bulking warrior in a theater. 

“And what are your plans for the day spymaster?” 

He shrugged, “Patrol”.

She nodded once. Straightening and heading for the door. She paused before leaving. Maybe considering voicing what they both knew she wouldn’t. 

He should tell her. He should tell her. 

The thought rampaged through his mind, through the gaping hole in his heart that he yearned for her to fill. 

“I’ll see you at dinner?” Was what he said instead. 

She pushed away the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

She should have said something. That morning. Before the attack. Before Hybern. She should have said something. 

She couldn’t even bring herself to cry now. She was too tired. Too dehydrated. 

Something cold ran its way down her back. She shivered. Another shadow.

No. It was solid. Something solid and cold rested against her skin. A hand. 

“You look terrible”

She whipped around at the sound of it. His voice. Shredded to a thin rasp, but his voice nonetheless. 

Hazel eyes blinked under long dark lashes. Smile lines crinkled the corners of them. He was awake. 

And there it was. 

That golden thread untangling itself from her ribs. Calling for him. 

And she leaned into it. Letting it wind it’s way towards him as she crashed into him. A pained huff escaped him at the impact. She pulled away at the sound, her hands grasping each side of his face. She turned his face from side to side, inspecting him, as if his appearance in the last couple minutes had changed. 

And then she let herself laugh. An unbelieving sound. 

“I look terrible? You have a hole in you chest.” 

Half a joke. Half a panicked statement. 

And then he felt it. That golden thread. That bond. That thrumming power reaching out and unwavering. 

She knew. She knew. She knew. 

His mate. 

“Not anymore”

His words held years of meaning. Years of longing and pushing away. Years of hiding from what they were. Years of letting her hide from it. 

They held eachothers gaze for a moment, and then she frowned. 

“Not anymore huh? You want me to stick my finger in there to prove a point?” 

He winced at the thought and shook his head. 

“No. I want you to kiss me.” 

[acotarxreader]

The Sea's Call

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: You belonged to the sea in every and all sense of the statement. Pirating the seas was just who you were and you loved it, its where you belonged until a pesky Spymaster takes an interest in your activity, quickly finding himself captivated by you in more ways than one.

Warnings: Flirty back and forth, snark, angst, near drowning, seasickness, light smut, enemies to lovers to omg could this be mates!?!?!?!?!? Rough editing (its exam season yall)

A/N: Hello! For this to make sense lets pretend that Azriel was with Amren and Feyre when they went to get the Book of Breathings! hehe, okay sound good? good!

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The feeling of solid ground beneath your boots was always a source of discomfort for you, a child of the sea would never feel at home on the solid soil of Prythian. Rarely did you leave the comfort of the ship you captained, only coming to shore for the more lucrative deals. Passing through Adriata, you felt yourself admiring the shimmering buildings, catching yourself in an instant and banishing away the thought. You practically counted the cobblestones back to the port, where a smaller sailboat would bring you back to your floating home. You passed a building that was in the process of being rebuilt, the whole city still practically on stilts after Amarantha’s reign of terror, the stories your crew told you enough to keep you awake at night. 

“Excuse me” A broad, winged male apologises as he gently bumps into your shoulder, your cloaked head unlifting from your course home as you pass. Never noticed, never seen, the main attribute that landed you at the helm of one of the most infamous ships at sea.

Through the crowded area before the final dock, tradespeople called from their port, customers eager to obtain the precious goods they brought from their travels. You quietly noted who sold what and for how much, marking their ship's colours in the back of your mind for later. You chuckled lightly to yourself at the plethora of unassuming fae, all ripe for the rip-off at the hands of these merchants, their financial gain ultimately trickling into your own. A sudden shudder shot up your spine as you found your feet instinctively taking you to shield yourself behind the canopy of one of the port side stalls. A large crowd of people stood in awe and fear as Tarquin transversed the crowd, a female in Night Court clothing on his arm with Cresseida and the Lord of Night following closely behind. You sneered at the sight of the foursome, playing Court to the crowds and clearly winning favour with all. 

“How am I going to pass by their giant egos?” You scoffed quietly to yourself for no one to hear. 

“I know the cape is a bit overkill on the Lord of Night Court’s part” You laughed lightly at the comment that came from the warm voice behind you, your movement then stilling completely. On the ball of your foot, you turned to face the wall-like male who you had passed earlier. Azriel raised an eyebrow to you, clearly feeling cocky he had caught you off guard, something that made you feel bare. Your eyes fell briefly on the Night Court emblem on his chest, its gleaming blue goldstone flickering in the unrelenting Summer sun. 

“Shouldn’t you be part of the other swans?” You asked boldly, your hood still slightly obscuring your full face, a smirk dashing for a moment across Azriel’s face. 

“Not my style, besides, who would keep an eye on the ones who normally avoid all observation?” 

“I know know what you’re implying sir” You did your best impression of the confused damsel, the type you were sure Azriel spent countless nights with before you turned away to head into the flowing crowd, the royal four now nearly at the exit of the port marketplace. Azriel caught hold of your wrist, the leather of his glove crinkling under the light pressure on your skin. You turned to watch him lift your own hand between you both, his eyes falling on the toughened skin before sweeping away your hood. Azriel swallowed what gasp rose in his throat, trying to stay with his feet on the shore as your marine blue eyes seemed to flicker back iridescence. 

“A seafarer?” He questioned gesturing with his head to your waterworn digits. 

“I dabbled briefly” You lied, taking your hand back from him and a step to put some distance between you. 

“What brings you to shore? You don’t seem to have a stall here? Or not one that I see that hasn’t recoiled on sight of you?” He quizzed, the mystery prickling along every nerve. 

“Maybe I’m a tough of a boss?” 

“I don’t doubt that somehow” he laughed as you fought to not show your offense. 

“I have no business with the Night Court right now, no cause for this line of questioning” You bristled, turning your back on the Illyrian and striding away, the end of the dock in sight. You thought of your contact waiting beneath the boardwalk, you unable to meet him with the Night Court’s Spymaster breathing down your neck. 

“Interesting how you said right now. What previous business had you with my cour?t” He called out to you, stopping you in your tracks. You balled your face into a knot, rookie rookie mistake you cursed yourself. The sound of the rising tide crashed beneath the tall boardwalk. Beneath the gnarly warped boards, you could make out the silhouette of your contact, gently swaying back and forth between the slats of the wood. The end of the unfenced dock now a mere metre away.

“I meant… I’m always open to business with all courts, perhaps we have business to agree to down the line” You lied again, the business you occupied yourself with would never be agreed to by any Court inner sanctum. 

“I somehow doubt the business you deal with would be in the interest of my Court unless it is to stop it?” Azriel’s voice danced the line between playful and arrogant ease similar to that of a cat with a cornered mouse. 

“I spoke out of line sir, I have nothing to offer anyone, I was simply shopping for wares for presents” You decided to change tacts entirely. 

“And the large bag of rare gems and crystals you have in your shoe, is that the payment for these invisible presents?” 

“How di-” You cut off your own question, Azriel’s eyes fully aligned with the thrill of the catch, he would have to try harder to catch you. You scoffed, your face changing from faux concerned cornered damsel to the hardened confidence in your ability that years of trade had given you. Your hands clasped together in front of you before you clapped slowly, the action seemingly catching the Illyrian off guard. 

“Nice catch, tell me is your outfit fully leather?” the question surprised Azriel, his eyes looking down briefly.

“Are you a fashion consultant now?” 

“No no, just making an observation, you seem so fond of those” You rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet, ever so softly inching your way to the edge of the dock. 

“And what observation is that?”

“Quite a heavy material when it's wet” Azriel didn’t have time to further question you before your foot slammed harshly down on the rotting board, Azriel narrowly but nimbly dodging the gap created by the crumbling plank, its reminisce crashing into the swirling tide 20 feet below. 

“Cute, any other party tricks?” Azriel straightened himself. 

“Just one” You saluted him with two fingers against your forehead before once again surprising the Illyrian and launching yourself backwards off the dock to freefall into the rushing wild tide below. Azriel ran to the edge of the dock, foamy white circles fizzed around your entry point into the water. The heel of Azriel’s ankle slipped from his boot as he prepared to follow you the moment you came up from the air. Except you didn’t. He waited and counted to at least 2 minutes before planting his foot back into the boot. Azriel looked out towards the growing swell in the ocean where he squinted to bring the very distant hazy grey outline. He couldn’t understand how you had made it so far, so fast, clearly at home in the crispy sea. 

“Azriel, if you’re gonna off yourself you have to at least warn me so I can get a jumpstart on the funeral speech” Rhysand laughed from behind the Spymaster, his voice making Azriel jump slightly, the sight of it confusing Rhysand. 

“Hey you okay?” Rhysand clapped a hand on Azriel’s shoulder, ever so gently guiding his friend back from the edge of the dock. 

“Yeah I eh..” He couldn’t find the words.

“Oh Azzie I know that look, well keep it in your pants, we’re here to get the book and go, I’m sure you can find someone just as fun at home” Rhysand laughed, turning Azriel’s body away from the edge of the dock, guiding him back up the boardwalk. Azriel took one more quick glance, no longer able to make out your distant shadow. 

—--------------------------------------

Azriel cursed every moment of his life that led him to this one that he shared with Feyre and Amren. This was the Spymaster's ultimate nightmare as the floods of endless water crashed into the chamber room, Feyre seemingly having a psychotic breakdown while clinging to the Book of Breathings. Every nerve was screaming at Azriel to entirely freak out but watching Feyre struggle with whatever the Book was giving her kept his head between his shoulders. As quickly as the water flooded in, the pulling force wrapped around the friends and tugged. Feyre and Amren seemingly had a silent discussion that pulled the three through the smothering water. 

The first swallow of salty air was choked down by the three as the wraiths pulled them upward through the blasted door, the dehydrating water still keeping a tight hold on Azriel. Alarms blared in any and all directions as Rhysand clearly had his own trials during the retrieval of the book. Wraiths suddenly squabbled over Azriel, their sharp talon like nails clawing along his wings, his yelps drowned out by the waves. Swelling currents pulled and pulled as the wraiths clung to Amren out of fear and Feyre out of repayment of debt leaving Azriel to fend for himself against the violent washes of water. Azriel had felt all his energy sapped by the fight for air inside the chamber being challenged again by the pulling force of the water. Out of bloodshot eyes, he saw the wraiths successfully bring his friends to shore until he could no longer fight the fray and instead allowed it to sweep him out. 

—--------------

Azriel’s face was swollen in the colours of choking purple and blue as his lungs fought to cough up the swallowed seawater. He felt his bones sink into the water-swollen wood of the ship he found himself hauled up onto. The sound of his body being dragged along the wood rattled against the strong gusts of wind. 

“Well, who did you piss off this time?” You laughed down towards the greying Spymaster as he tried to blink you into focus. He could only groan in reply before you jerked your head to the side, the large males dragging him across the deck continued their course, tossing him into the bowels of the ship. A smaller fae quickly clasped heavy chains on him, energy stores still depleted from the fight with nature. 

Azriel couldn’t tell if it had been minutes, hours or days since he had arrived on board the next time he woke up. He took in the musty surroundings, unable to detect any other living creatures in the room with him.

“I told you leather was a heavy material when wet” You smirked from atop the beam above Azriel before jumping down to land in front of him. 

“Remind me to take the fashion advice next time” Azriel rasped out, his throat raw from the salt. You circled him briefly before retrieving a tray from a darkened corner of the room, the swells of the wave lifting and dropping the boat in a natural rhythm, it never throwing off your stride. You placed the tray down by his side as he squared off his hips to sit upright on the sodden wooden floor. 

“Drink” You half ordered, Azriel looking from the liquid lifeline to your eyes of equal colour. 

“To have you poison me?” he scoffed. 

“The salt in your system will do that work for me if you don’t drink” Azriel looked back down at the water, weighing up the options before deciding to take it with a heavy chained hand. The water tasted of pure light itself as you watched him carefully swallow it all while attempting not to drool yourself. Another swell hit the side of the ship, causing Azriel to fall to his side. 

“You’re going to want to find your sea legs soon Leathers if you want to be able to keep your lunch down” You laughed, removing a cloth from the tray to reveal a thick, nutritious stew. 

“Where are we going?” He managed, trying his best to keep his sickly grey cheeks from turning green. 

“We're chucking you out closer to home, a courtesy” you squatted down to his eye level, drawing his amber eyes into meet you. 

“Why?”

“What can I say, I don't love the drama it loves me” you laughed standing again, pushing the tray closer to him with your foot. 

“Real answer” the stew bubbled in the dish, punctuating Azriels words. 

“I fish a prize out of the ocean, I'm going to collect”

“Aw you think I'm a prize” Azriel batted his eyelashes in faux flirtation, righting himself. You squatted back down, catching his chin lightly and to his own surprise he allowed you. 

“No, but the High Lord of endless wealth does” you let him go with a jerk. 

“Now eat, we've a few stops to make” You left him to his thoughts. 

-

Azriel picked at the food, before falling in and out of a state of pure exhaustion, it had been at least 3 days since he was sent out to sea. He gave into the food after 72hrs of deciding whether or not it was poison until it's filling nature sent him to as comfortable sleep. Azriel woke to the feeling a cool liquid dripping down his wings.

“Don't touch me” he jerked his wings out of your reach, the cloth going slack in your hand. 

“Listen here Leathers, either the wounds are cleaned or you lose the wings” You bit, Azriel weighing up your words, the cuts the wraiths left fighting to heel under his diminished energy. 

“Fine, do it yourself” You wrung out the cloth before dropping it to his side.

“Why do you care?” The thought rattled around Azriels head for the hours you had left him in the dark, he had to try to find the answer. He reached for the cloth, dripping the liquid down what wounds he could reach under the constraints of the chain. 

“You're less valuable to me dead” You lied, trying your best to ignore the cuts he missed. You ran your tongue across your teeth, and Azriel took note of your inspection. 

“Seems you care an awful lot about someone you see only as monetary gain” he smirked, unable to hide how your interest made him feel. He then proceeded to miss the wounds on purpose until you finally snapped, whipping the cloth from hands. 

“Just let me!” You snapped harshly and then met his wing with surprising tenderness. Azriel watched you from the corner of his eye, afraid to blink and you'd disappear. 

“Damn wraiths” you whispered, the deep claw marks fighting against the healing solution. 

“The way you swim, I thought you might be one yourself” You met his eyes with a grin, the cloth slipping from your hand. 

“Don't belittle me like that Spymaster-” Azriels eyebrow raised again at your coy response “-yeah I knew the moment I met you who you were and how much it drives you crazy that you have no idea who I am”

“I'm piecing it together” he said softly, watching you trace your eyes over his wings. Veins of opal and midnight blue liquid leaked from your hand, flowing over the deeper marks and sealing the shut-on contact.

“And more pieces fall” Azriel said, watching in amazement. You brought a finger to your lip and whispered shh, a banging then coming from behind.

“Captain, we're here” a burly voice came from the door, you stood before they could see what you were doing. 

“Business to attend” You grinned down, wiping your hands on your trousers and leaving Azriel once again.

—------

The boat soon after began to rock again, Azriel still not finding comfort in the waves. He tried to map out mentally the course you had taken him and why his family had yet to appear and save him. He knew the importance of the Book of Breathings and its vitality in a successful mission but he thought he was equally as vital. The swells rocked the boat to almost vomit-inducing levels as it reached the peaking waves of the thick sea once again.

On the main deck you glided with ease, your whole crew used to wild seas and never wanting to change any part of them. A long day of scouting out treasures and seeking payment for your protection had you staring up at the ceiling of your cabin, contemplating it all. The rush of waves hitting the solid oak of the massive ship sent you to welcome sleep shortly, the whole ship falling into well-earned rest after a day of various activities. Hours later you woke with the feeling of a true unfamiliar sickness. You ran quickly to the private washroom adjacent to your room, your skin a sickly green colour, your body at the will of the ocean for the first time in centuries. 

“What the fuck?” you said to yourself before wrapping a cloak around you and heading to the deck. Stray waves washed over the rim, flooding the deck as your crew fought with the sails, waves almost as tall as them made an attempt to claim a prize. You raised a stray hand, deflecting the walls of water from any serious damage, still unable to fight off the full feeling of sea sickness. You were always one with the ocean, allowing it to reek it havoc but keeping it from toppling the ship. The boat rocked nearly level to its starboard side before you willed the water to keep the mast from tilting, your crew ever happy to have a master of the elements at the helm. 

“Just keep the fucking sails straight” You barked, your crew scrambling to obey as lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the flooding deck, your stomach doing somersaults to match the movement. You rushed from the wheel down the decks again before entering into the depths of the ship, shielded from the rain. 

“For fuck sake, drink this before I vomit” You fired a small vile at the green Illyrian who caught it through his disorientation. Azriel always hated being at sea, doing his best to avoid it during his training and having a stark reminder of why now that he found himself at the centre of a colossal storm.

Azriel’s eyes locked on you as he fiddled with the lid of the bottle, he no longer cared if it was poison, if it ended the hellish seascape he’d drink it happily. Your eyes rolled like the waves before you made short work of the distance separating you both and in quick movement you separated the blade strapped to your thigh from its holder, sinking it into a miniscule chink in one of the chains on Azriel’s arm. You quickly hauled him upwards, the movement rattling his head to accompany the severe seasickness as you hauled him over to the side of the room. With your bare hands, you pulled the small wooden sheet nailed to the wall down, revealing a porthole. In a swift motion, you whipped it open, pressing Azriel’s face out into the swirling sea air. 

“There! See that line, thats the horizon, stay on that!” You barked at him, the ravenous waves crashing up to meet Azriels face through the hole as sea spray. He rocked from foot to foot, allowing his weight to rest in your strength as he found the horizon, nearly boring holes in it with his eyes as he focused.

“Just focus on the centre of your world Azriel, focus” You tried more softly this time, his name from you striking some deep nerve he always neglected. He caught as much air as he could before turning to lock eyes on you, colour drained from his face. 

“Not on me, the horizon!” You snapped, catching the back of his head and forcing it forward again. The curling, twisting sensation in your stomach was quickly replaced by a different sinking sensation. 

“Okay, okay, I’m okay” Azriel called out, your pressure releasing slightly on him, allowing him to sink back to the floorboards, one arm still tethered to the bowels of the ship. You followed his lead, sliding down the wall of the ship to meet his side. He curled his knees into his chest like he did as a child and you found your thumb tracing small soothing circles on the back of his hand before realising. He scanned you in almost horror, panting deep breaths into his lungs.

“That vein in your head is gonna pop if you keep thinking that hard” You found yourself laughing breathlessly, thankful for the end of the illness you so rarely felt. 

“Do you make this many visits to prisoners normally?”

“I guess you’ll never know, maybe this is how I am with all my guests” You rolled your head against the wall to look at him.

“An interesting way to treat your guests” He jingled the chains.

“Chains make it more fun” You whispered, the words rolling over his nerves like a wave at sea.

“More pieces, Captain” his rusty voice stopped your thoughts under his warm gaze.

“You’ll never have enough to understand”

“Oh yeah?” In one smooth movement, Azriel swerved his chained arm over his head, hooking it around your throat. He pulled until you found your back flush with his chest, his legs like vice grips around you from behind as you dug your nails into the betraying chain. 

“Chains make it more fun-” He whispered into the crook of your neck, the hairs on your neck standing on their end “- Now tell me how you knew I was sick down here?! Have you spelled me?” He ordered, rolling his hands into tighter fists around the chain, ensuring you were fully at the will of its biting metal jaws. He released enough pressure for a life-saving gasp of air you took hungrily. 

“The-the same way you-you knew how to find me on-on the dock. How did you see m-e that day?” You rasped, Azriel allowed more slack on the chain as he thought, the answer rolling off his tongue like a rogue wave. 

“How could I not?” he admitted in a whisper, the only sound filling the room. 

“Then that is my same answer to you” You thought of the ways you could overpower him at this moment, the simple ways you could will the sea to save you and yet you didn’t. You weren’t ready to end this moment and you weren’t fully sure why, well not in a way that you’d admit to yourself yet.

“I just-I felt someone need me, call to me without a voice… I just saw you through it all” he realised aloud.

“People don’t usually”

“I thought you were a Captain, or was that just a pet name?” his head tilted in question, “I’m no ones pet” More tension was released from the chain, enough for you to put your fingers between it and your marbled throat.

“I bet I could change that” his warm breath coated your ear, some force pulling him forward until the full slack was released from his chain, it clattering to the floor along its captivated wrist, his other hand tracing along your chest to gently catch your chin. You felt your back relax further into your chest until you instinctively fell to the side allowing the Spymaster the access to your neck he desperately craved. Fresh, electrifying bittersweet pain rattled through your body as Azriel sank his teeth into your tender flesh, his chained hand anchoring you to his chest by curling tightly around your abdomen. You released the air from your lungs that felt as though it had been held forever. Azriel’s hand left your obedient chin to trace down your body, landing at the fraying waistband of your favourite sleep shorts. His thumb traced beneath the band, his nail skirting along your skin, a shiver shooting up your spine. 

“Tell me your name” He whispered with tantalizing ease. 

“YN” You replied, not often telling those outside the inner sanctum. 

“The name I’ll thank the sky for and wish on every star to hear” His hand finally sank beneath the elastic, stroking small circles to coat your throat in soft moans you fought to keep hold of. You could feel him against your backside, feel how much he wanted this and you and yet you didn’t want him to know the same about you. 

“For you, only you” He groaned, pressing further into you as if hearing your thoughts, a rewarding groan this time unable to be stopped from leaving you. As quickly as he had trapped you, you turned, hooking a leg over his to press him back into the deck, straddling either side of his waist, his chained arm clanking against the wood. Your hand traced his cheek and he allowed himself to rest against your palm, his wings relaxing outwards, the wraith marks on show. You felt rage boil beneath the surface at the sight of their claim to what you felt was yours. You lowered down to his mouth, eyes swirling into his as he drank your energy in. 

“I’ll kill them for hurting you”

“And I’ll do the same to those who look at you in any unkindness, or look at you at all, unworthy of the pleasure” His free hand found the nape of your neck, magnetic forces guiding you down until a wash of the purest release met you both in one another's lips. Nirvana. Then unrelenting hunger. Your mouth parted slightly causing him to eagerly take the invitation, his tongue conducting teasing strokes that you happily match. Your hands clutch the material of his shirt, afraid to let go of him and the movement.

“Land!!!” An unwelcome shout came from far above where the two of you were deep in entanglement. The voice of your second mate pulled you back from Azriel, who tried his best to not whine at the movement. You quickly shot from his grasp, retucking your shirt and pulling your damp hair to one shoulder. You looked frantically at the broken chain before darting to cover the porthole again. 

“What-what just happened?” Azriel asked, doing his best to stand.

“We just reached your drop off” You left a sad smile paint your face as Azriel bolted towards you, his chain dragging.

“But we-I just- we just-”

“I know but they’ll be expecting you and my crew will be expecting the payout I promised them when we diverted course to fish you from the sea” You caught his knotted hands in yours, the marks of your years of hard work melting into his of deepest cruelty. 

“Run with me, come with me, just don’t leave me” he found himself begging.

“This is my world, that’s yours, I don't have land legs just like you definitely don’t have sea legs-” you laughed “-besides, I don’t think we’ll be welcomed in this Court after our capture of one of the favourite children” You joked, your hand tracing his cheek. 

“YN, I’ll tell them the truth, tell them how you saved me, how you will save me in so so many ways” A knock came at the end of Azriel’s plea, your sign to say goodbye. 

“I’m sorry Azriel, my crew are my family and I owe them what they deserve” you stepped back outside the range of what his remaining chain would allow. You reluctantly opened the door, towering males like those who dragged him aboard entered, your back facing him unable to look. Azriel wasn’t sure what happened yet, wasn’t even sure he cared. 

—------

“Is he dead?” Azriel heard Nesta through the screeching song of overhead seabirds. He rolled onto his back, the sharp sun scratching his retinas after a few days in the dark.

“Azriel!” His friends said in unison, helping him to sit up in the soft sand. 

“They didn’t drop you where they said, sorry it took so long to get to you” Feyre smiled, dusting the sand from his hair as Rhysand and Cassian scanned the horizon for any semblance of your ship, long long gone. 

—-----------------

The following weeks were rough for the whole Night Court, all unsure of their next moves to save their world from Hybern. Countless nights watching the bay allowed Azriel time to devise plans and hatch ideas. All paths lead to you more so than success against Hybern. 

That Starfall his family rejoiced in their full reunion, their first in 50 years and yet Azriel still felt a missing part of him, it cast out to sea. He watched Rhysand take Feyre by the hand up the stairs, a smile decorating his face at his brother's deserved happiness. His rusty coloured liquor reflected the moon, the party danced around him, the noise of it all not enough to drown out what he felt was a call he had to answer. 

Azriel landed on the shores of Velaris, the hidden home he’d die for, thinking about the hidden love he’d do the same for. An idea pinged into his head at the sight of Velaris residents releasing lanterns from passing canoes. 

Without full coherence, Azriel found himself rowing a small dingy of a boat out of the Velaris port. He dug deep against the slowly growing waves, the House Of Wind and it’s gleaming party lights in the growing distance. He rowed until he could no longer see his home over the crests of the waves before he stood on rattling legs and found the bow of the small boat. With one deep breath, Azriel swan dived into the crystal clear depths, allowing it to overwhelm him and pull him down. Cautiously, Azriel opened his eyes beneath the water, adjusting to he burn before swimming deeper. Lactic acid began to build in his muscles and beg him not to swim deeper into the pressure of the unforgiving water. Black blots inked across his vision as the darkening water began to overwhelm his system once again until right before blacking out an arm wrapped around him. 

“You have to be fucking kidding me” Was the first thing Azriel heard you say in weeks as you both breached the surface. He almost howled with laughter and exhilaration of his near-death experience and seeing you again. 

“I-I knew you’d come” he rasped out in giddy excitement. 

“Risky game Leathers” You laughed until he kissed you, the lapping water supporting you both. Overhead the sky began to fill with lights on their journey, reflecting off the water with pure light but in that moment Azriel knew that even the darkest night would be illuminated by you.

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

Teehee Whatcha think?!

[mellowmusings]

Blessed mistakes | part 2 (reworked)

part 1 part 3 there aren't much changes just a few subtle ones

Azriel x reader

A/N- Literally thank you so much to my wifey @anarchiii for being there for me and proof reading this story when it was just a stupid little drabble, if you all want some soft but well written fics she has some amazing ones especially her gwynriel fic,(ps: shes already taken and so are her cats too so dont even try anything else >:<) also i might be going off summary a bit but its fine,let me know if you wanna be tagged :)

Summary- After over 5 centuries of waiting Azriel hasn't found his mate, given up all hope of any chance of finding her he decides to start pursuing Elain, not seeing what was in front of him all along.

Part Two: Fading Echoes

(*A few years after y/n had left, timeline during Amaranthas reign*)

The years had a quiet way of passing, like a river flowing slowly under the weight of the stars. Azriel couldn’t remember the moment when the ache of her absence had begun, nor could he pinpoint when it had deepened into something permanent, something that hummed just beneath his skin. Fifty years. They had come and gone, one after the other, a steady stream of days filled with work, with battles, with the constant motion of life that had never quite let him stop. And yet, the absence of her—her—never left. It lingered, as if it had always been there.

Y/N had left without a word, without a trace, slipping quietly from his life as though she had never belonged there. He had never asked her why. Maybe he thought the answer was too simple, or perhaps he didn’t want to hear it. And so, he had never asked.

He thought of her that night—the night she told him she was leaving—as he often did, though the memory felt like a soft echo, fading at the edges. It had been a simple conversation, nothing remarkable at first. They had been in the garden, the air cool and still around them, the moon casting its pale light over the courtyard. Azriel had been lost in his thoughts, as he so often was, his mind drifting from one responsibility to the next.

She had been quiet, more than usual, and when he had finally turned to her, he saw it in her eyes—the tiredness, the distant look that hadn’t been there before. It was the look of someone who had been carrying something heavy for too long.

“I think I need to go,” she had said, her voice soft, almost like a whisper. “There’s a mission in the Autumn Court... It’s time for me to leave for a while.”

He had nodded, of course. She had always been so independent, so steady. He didn’t think much of it, didn’t realize the weight of her words, the finality in them.

"Of course," he had said, offering a smile, thinking it was just another one of her short trips—another mission, another step away from Velaris that would bring her back once more.

But she hadn’t come back.

The days stretched on without her, and slowly, the absence began to settle over him like a thick fog. He kept himself busy, as he always did, throwing himself into his duties, his work, anything to keep his mind from wandering to her. But she was never far. She lingered in the corners of his thoughts, in the spaces between meetings, in the quiet moments before sleep would claim him.

And then there was the silence. The silence of not knowing. Not knowing where she had gone, why she had left so suddenly, why she hadn’t come back. At first, Azriel had told himself it was nothing—just a mission, just time apart. But as the weeks turned into months, and the months into years, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of her absence pressing on him.

He had searched, of course. He had gone to the Autumn Court, asking quietly, desperately, if anyone had seen her. He had questioned every contact he had, asked around the realms, sent word through every possible channel. But no one had known. No one had seen her.

She had simply... disappeared.

It wasn’t until years later, when the weight of her absence had begun to feel like a constant ache in his chest, that Azriel had realized the truth. The truth that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface of everything he had felt for her. She hadn’t just left because of a mission. No. She had left because of him.

He hadn’t seen it then. He hadn’t understood. But looking back now, with the distance of time and the space of so many years between them, the truth became clear. Y/N had loved him. Loved him in a way that he had never allowed himself to see. She had loved him in the quiet moments, in the way she had looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. But Azriel hadn’t noticed. He had been too wrapped up in his own world, in his own pain, his own battles, to ever see it.

To him, she had always been like a sister—steadfast, loyal, someone who understood him without needing words. She had always been there, always by his side, always offering him the quiet comfort he hadn’t known he needed. But to her, it had been more. It had always been more. And she had waited, hoped, for something that he had never been able to give.

And when she left, when she quietly walked away from him without so much as a second glance, it had been the final piece in a puzzle he hadn’t even known he was putting together.

He hadn’t loved her in the way she had wanted him to, in the way she deserved, he had realized the reason she left long after it was too late. But even now, fifty years later, the ache of that unspoken truth gnawed at him. The truth that he had broken her without ever knowing it. Without ever meaning to.

In the years that followed, Azriel had buried it. Buried the regret, the guilt, the unanswered questions deep within himself, like a wound he was too afraid to touch. He had never spoken of it to anyone—not even Rhys. He couldn’t bring himself to tell them that he had failed her in a way that he would never be able to undo.

And so, he carried it. The quiet weight of knowing that someone—someone who had been everything to him—was gone, and he didn’t even know why.

It wasn’t until after the war, after Amarantha’s reign had ended, that Rhys returned. The air was filled with victory, with the promise of a future that seemed almost too good to be true. But to Azriel, it felt hollow. Empty. Because in the midst of all of it, there was still the question of Y/N.

Rhys had come to him, as they always did, to speak of what had been won, what had been lost. But there was something else in the air that night, something unspoken between them. Rhys, as always, seemed to sense it.

“Az,” he began, his voice quiet, almost hesitant, as though he had been waiting for the right moment. “I know you’ve been looking for her. I’ve heard the whispers. The Autumn Court... You thought she might have gone there?”

Azriel’s heart skipped in his chest, the hope that he had long buried resurfacing just for a moment. He had never told Rhys the full truth—the way he had searched for her, the way he had never given up. But Rhys knew. Rhys had always known, his brother always did.

“I did,” Azriel said, his voice thick with something he couldn’t name he couldn't help as his voice broke. “But I couldn’t find her. No one has seen her.”

Rhys’ expression softened, as if he had known all along that this moment was coming. “I searched, Az. I went to the Autumn Court. I asked around... but there’s nothing. She’s gone.”

Azriel’s breath hitched. He knew it, he did. But hearing the words—hearing it from someone else—made it feel final in a way that it hadn’t before.

She was gone.

All because of him.

He had failed her.

And as the truth settled over him, as the weight of the years pressed in, he realized something else—that even after all this time, even after all the battles he had fought, the scars he had earned, there was a part of him that still, somehow, hoped she might return. That hope had been foolish. She wasn’t coming back.

Azriel stood there, the weight of Rhys’ words hanging between them, and for the first time in decades, his thoughts weren’t on his duties or his responsibilities. They were on her. Y/N, the girl he had known since childhood, the girl who had always been like a sister to him. His heart, ever steady in the face of battles and wars, felt something more raw now. More broken. She had been the one person who had always understood him. And now... now she was gone.

She wasn’t just a sister, a friend. She had been the one constant in his life, the one person who had given him something real, something solid. And now, he would never get the chance to tell her how much she meant to him. He would never get the chance to apologize for not seeing her.

His chest tightened with the weight of it all. The girl he had grown up with, the girl who had quietly woven herself into the fabric of his life, was gone and Azriel, the Shadowsinger, could do nothing but stand there in the empty quiet of the night, broken by the truth that she was lost to him forever. And so he sunk to his knees and let himself shatter, under the weight of his heart.

@anarchiii @darkbloodsly @sunnyspycat @er1023 @clementine111002 @buubblles @onebadassunicorn @donnadiddadog @ren-ni @lilah-asteria @rcarbo1 @tele86 @sillyfreakfanparty @sopheeg @secretlyhers @isa1b2h3

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

𝑹𝒂𝒊𝒏 | 𝑨𝒛𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒍 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

[400 followers celebration]

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: Sleepy voice Az, SMUUUUUUUTTTTTTT — pretty vanilla imo (unprotected p in v, creampie, biting, maybe the slightest hint of shadow play? Idk, I just work here) but it's morning sex, fem!mate reader, hints at possessive Az.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1.4K

“You don't know the things you do to me, shadowsinger.” Your soft voice cut through the serenity of the room, echoing in a whisper as his shadows caressed your neck, gently brushing through your hair.

The dark sheets beneath the two of you rustled as Azriel shifted slightly; his grip on you tightened a small fraction, pulling your body closer to his.

He hummed sleepily, burying his nose in your hair, inhaling that sweet scent he loved so much. 

“I might have some idea.” He murmured, his voice a low rumble, still laden with sleep. Yet you could hear the slight smirk in his tone.

A soft hum of amusement came from you as your fingers delicately traced invisible shapes on his skin. “Why's that?” Your voice was still quiet, not wanting to disturb the calm that came with the rainy morning outside.

The whole house was quiet except for the soft pitter patter of rain on the balcony and windows, as if everyone else was enjoying the cozy, rainy morning just as much as the two of you were. . . Hell, neither of you had opened your eyes yet. 

Azriel ran his fingers down the bare skin of your back, tracing your spine with a feather light touch; you shivered slightly beneath his hand. 

He let out a breathy chuckle, his hand drifting from your spine to your hip — he gripped it firmly, the muscles in his hand flexing. He shifted once again, his head moving down so he could press light kisses to your skin. 

Your temple. Cheeks. Jawline. Neck. Shoulder. Then he kissed back up again, until they reached your lips. 

He was gentle. Basking in the feeling of your lips against his, the connection was almost lazy in movement. 

Then he pulled back just enough, finally opening his eyes to stare down at you. “Because I know you.” His hand came up, cupping your cheek as his thumb ran across your skin, his gaze tracing every possible detail of your face.

Your eyes fluttered open at the soft touch; your heart beat faster at the sight of his beautiful hazel eyes. Gods, you loved those eyes. . . Especially when the usually stoic shadowsinger was staring at you with such reverence. 

You'd never seen him look at anyone the way he looked at you.

“I know how your body reacts to me.” He whispered. You shivered as his touch fell to the pulse point on your neck, gently tracing the area.

“I know how you taste.” Azriel shifted both of you so he was on top, his body naturally taking up residence between your legs. 

He hovered above you, his head lowering to leave a trail of kisses and love bites from your chest to just below your ear. He smirked against you as he listened to your breathing begin to grow slightly ragged. 

“I know how you feel.” He whispered, gently grinding his hard length against you, feeling how wet you already were.

You let out a soft, whimpering moan; he let out a low groan and his hands gripped the dark sheets. 

“I know how you smell when you're aroused. . .” Azriel shifted his hips, positioning himself right where he wanted to be. 

“Az. . .” You whimpered softly. He lifted his head to look into your eyes once again, searching for any indication that you didn't want him to continue. He found absolutely none. . . All he found was a heady mixture of love and lust in those eyes he fell in love with. 

He shifted his hips once again, before he finally began to push in, filling you inch by inch — a hand found your hip to hold you in place.

Your body reacted immediately and arched into him as a sound of pleasure left your parted lips. At the same time, his shadows brushed over your hardened nipples in the cool room, a gentle caress over your skin. 

A guttural, borderline feral, groan came from Azriel as he buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing your skin while he rolled his hips.

“And I know the way you sound.” He murmured against your neck, gently nipping as his shadows proceeded to roam across your body, touching all of your most sensitive spots, drawing out gasps and whimpers.

“It's all for me.” Azriel raised his head once more, his heated gaze locking on your expression of pure ecstasy. 

“It's all for you.” You moaned out, grasping the dark sheets tightly as pleasure met you with each thrust.

He growled softly, his pace picking up just the slightest bit. . . His hands trailed from your hips to your thighs, pushing them gently so you were more open to him. 

“Mine.” He breathed out raggedly. “You.” Thrust. “Are.” Thrust. “Mine.” Thrust. 

“Yours.” 

He captured your lips in a hungry kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth. He couldn't get enough of you, every taste and touch further sparking his need for you.

His hands gripped your thighs tighter, holding you as close to him as possible. He rocked his hips against yours, his rhythm becoming more urgent and forceful. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through his body, his restraint rapidly slipping away.

He broke the kiss, his breathing heavy and ragged as he trailed his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing over your sensitive skin.

Pleasure built up within you, every thrust driving you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the pressure getting to be too much until it finally snapped with a moan of his name, the feeling washing over you like a wave.

He groaned, feeling your body tighten around him, trembling from the sensations only he could bring you. He didn't want it to end just yet, but he felt his own pleasure building, coiling tightly like a spring ready to snap at any moment.

“So good for me.” He murmured, his movement becoming erratic as he was pushed closer, teetering right on the edge of pleasure. 

He pulled you flush against him as he climaxed, his arms wrapping tightly around your body as he fought to catch his breath. His heart was pounding in his chest. He could feel the tremors running through every part of him.

He nuzzled his face against your neck, his lips caressing every inch of skin he could reach. He didn't want to let go of you, didn't want to lose the feeling of your body pressed against his.

“You're going to be the death of me.” Azriel murmured against your neck, his fingers tracing invisible shapes on your body as you both came down from the high.

A soft chuckle came from you, followed by a hum as you finally caught your breath. “That's what you get for falling in love with me, shadowsinger.” 

He huffed out a small laugh before leaving one last kiss. He pulled out and backed away, looking down at his handiwork. “So beautiful.” He hummed, his voice a low rumble as he stared down at your body. 

Sometimes he couldn't believe it. You were his.

He wordlessly got out of bed and walked into the bathroom, returning a few moments later with a damp, warm washcloth. 

“Here we go.” He murmured softly as he began to clean you up from the encounter; a soft hum of contentment left your lips as you felt the warm cloth on your skin, wiping away the remnants. . . 

Eventually, the day pulled you and Azriel from the confines of his room. . . The rain never ceased, the large drops spilling from the sky creating its own song. 

Cassian's boisterous laughter met your ears as you and Azriel walked down the hall, towards the dining room — side by side, his shadows crawling over your body like you were the one able to command them. 

The quieter voices grew louder the closer the two of you got; then you rounded the corner and the rest of the family came into view. . . 

Cassian's gaze immediately landed on you and Azriel. He let out another laugh, looking between Feyre, Rhysand, you, and Azriel. . . “Looks like everyone started their morning with a bang.” 

Rhysand smirked, pleased with himself as he pulled his mate closer to him.

Azriel raised an eyebrow, yet couldn't help the small upturn of his lips into a satisfied smirk.

As for you and Feyre? A look of slight horror and embarrassment was shared between the two of you.

Cassian went to open his mouth again.

“Cass, for the love of the gods. . . Shut up.” You muttered with wide eyes, effectively cutting him off. 

He only smirked.

Simultaneous groans came from you and Feyre. . . Cassian wouldn't let it go. . . He'd be at it all day. . . Yet when your gaze finally found Nesta, your eyes locked on the new love bites that were just barely hidden by her modest sleepwear.

And then you looked back to Cassian with a smirk.

Game on.

A/N— Y'all, I've been slacking with writing because I've been so busy with classes, writing my book, and trying to get my license. At this point, life is a party and I'm the piñata. . . So I apologize if this isn't that good or doesn't make sense, I'm trying to get back into writing fanfics for all of you.

Xoxo, Silver ♡