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#(az rhys mor)
midn1ghtdreamer · 11 months
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Azriel X Reader
Day Full of Love
Two hours. That’s how much time was left before you and Azriel were finally united forever. You couldn’t hide your feelings from your loving mate everytime you thought of it, unconsciously sending waves of love down the bond.
He was everything that you could’ve asked for. He might not see it himself, but you do. You knew he deserved happiness, even if he didn’t accept it. That’s what you intended to prove to him today.
Not only were you getting married to your mate, but you also had a small gift for him. You didn’t tell anyone about your surprise. Not even Mor, who was currently trying to peek into the small gift bag. “You know I can see you, right?”
She backed away hastily, hands up in surrender, “I was just making sure you didn’t leave any of your jewelry. Can’t have you missing anything.” You scoffed rolling your eyes. Mor couldn’t mind her business for the life of her. It was her ongoing curiosity that made you and Azriel reveal the truth about being mates. You both tried to hide it from your family, attempting to get used to the bond yourselves first, but thanks to her things didn’t go to plan.
“Sure…,” you murmured watching her out of the corner of your eye. You brushed out your uncooperative hair, growing frustrated with time. Feyre came to assist you, pulling your hair into an up do style, while you proceeded to put in earrings while looking out the window.
The wedding took place during sunset and at the moment the sun was barely over the horizon. Everything outside was set up, as far as you could tell from the window at least. The white banisters were hung high and the tables were covered with a cobalt blue table cloth. The chairs had small accents of silver and blue and the aisle…
The isle that you were going to walk down within the next few minutes was shimmering in the last rays of sunset. You couldn’t wait to see the way that Azriel would look at you as you walked down the aisle. The way he would take in the dress as it flowed around you. the way his eyes would connect with yours, sending his love and adoration down the bond you shared.
You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t realize Feyre calling to you. her hands on your shoulders was what brought you back to reality. “Are you alright?” She asked softly. You nodded telling her that you were just thinking as she went to pick up your dress. You could see the understanding in her eyes at your words. “I was nervous before Rhys and I did the ceremony—“
“You mean the ceremony that I wan’t invited to,” Mor shouted from across the room. You couldn’t but laugh at the slightly guilty look of Feyre’s face. You were still upset about not being invited to her ceremony as well, but you didn’t let it show like Mor did.
She helped you step into your dress, responding with, “The situation was different back then, Mor, but I’ll make sure we include you next time we have a big event.”
“Me too,” you added, turning so she could zip up your gown. Thankfully you and Azriel didn’t have to worry about the threat of a war during this big moment. You couldn’t imagine how hard it was for Feyre and Rhys at that time.
You quickly grabbed the gift bag and left Feyre put on your veil. “I’ll make sure to invite you too.”
Mor, nudged Feyre’s shoulder, “You better.” She handed you the bouquet, “Now then let’s get this wedding started.”
********************
Azriel loved his brothers, no doubt about that, but at this current moment he wanted to erase them from the Night Court. Cassian spent the past twenty minutes crying over Azriel finally getting married, while Rhys recounted the time after his mating ceremony.
“He’s finally getting hitched, Rhys, can you believe it,” Cassian cried, slapping Azriel on the back causing his wings to flare. He sighed in irritation, all hopes of finally buttoning up his shirt lost.
There were only five minutes left. Five minutes and he still wasn’t fully dressed. Not that you would mind seeing him walk down the isle without a shirt.
Rhys could tell that Azriel was frustrated from the way his shadows frantically whipped around that room. Each dark wisp coming back to tell him where everything he needed was: the rings on the dresser and his shoes near the bed.
“Sit,” Rhys said, signaling at a chair. Azriel rushed over not caring about what his brother was trying to do. His attention was on his shirt that he still hasn’t finished fixing the buttons on. He was so focused on the item of clothing that he didn’t notice Cassian holding his shoes out to him or Rhys’s hands in his hair.
Azriel took his shoes, bending down to lace them. He pushed Rhy’s away every time he reached for his shoulder. “Do you ant me to finish your hair or not Az.”
Azriel’s head snapped up, “What?”
“Your hair.” Rhys handed him a mirror to look at the nest of hair on his head. Azriel cursed and promptly sat back. He couldn’t remember the last time Rhys had touched his hair. He used to do it five hundred years ago when they were kids, but eventually stopped after a while. The only person that touched the black hair on Azriel’s head now was you.
“There. What are we thinking?” Azriel inspected his hair throughly. You wouldn’t care what his hair looked like regardless, but he still wanted to make sure it looked perfect for you.
“I think we should add glitter,” Cassian suggested. “The girls at the camp told me that glitter makes everything look better.”
“Absolutely not,” Azriel deadpanned. Thinking about the small girls that he trained at the camp. As much as he adored them, he would not be adding any type of shimmer into his locks.
Rhys placed his hands on his brothers shoulders. “It’s time for you to get married.”
******************
Azriel’s eyes didn’t leave you as you made your way down the aisle. You had to stop yourself from running up to him when you first saw him. He was absolutely glowing in the last rays of the sunset. You could see the reddish brown membrane of his wings as you continued to step towards him, nearly crumpling under his gaze.
He looked at you in all the ways you imagined and more. His eyes completely devoured you and you could see the desire in his eyes more as you stood on the platform with him. “Hello beautiful,” he whispered, wrapping his arm around your waist. You wanted to kiss him badly at that moment, but you would have to save that for the end of the ceremony.
Rings were exchanged and white fabric was wrapped around your wrists to symbolize the band before you heard the words you had been waiting for. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Azriel swept you off your feet, pulling you in for a passionate kiss. It was unlike any kind of kiss he had given you before. His lips pressed against yours, telling you everything that he felt in that moment. You felt his love, his desperation, and his need all in one. The cheers in the background made you push Azriel’s chest. No matter how tempting it was at the moment, you didn’t want to give your entire family a show.
You were beaming as you listen to the cheers from Feyre, Cassian, Rhys, and, to your surprise, some claps from Amren.
The night continues with drinks, food, and plenty of congratulations. It was hard to get a private moment with your husband. You only managed to pull him away when everyone was dancing together, celebrating the new union in the family.
“I got you gift,” you said, handing him the small bag. You were nervous, very nervous. What would he say when he saw what was in the bag? How would he react? You couldn’t stop these thoughts from rushing though your head as you mate looked at you curiously.
“You didn’t have to get me anything love.”
“I know, but this is very special to me and I wanted to share it with you.”
“Just know I’m going to get you something in return.” You rolled your eyes at your husbands antics. He would never let you surprise him without repaying the favor.
You watched as he pulled a small cloth out of the bag. He squinted his eyes in suspicion, unfolding the item. “Is this what I think it is?” His eyes scanned the onesie in his hands. You nodded softly, tears brimming your eyes. Azriel enveloped you in his arms whispering into your hair, “When did you find out, beautiful?”
“Two months ago,” you said, burying your head into his neck.
He kissed you temple, “So this is why you wanted to move the wedding up.”
You nodded, at a lost for words. You remembered talking to Azriel about your plans to move the wedding up. When he asked you why you claimed it was because you couldn’t wait to get married to him. You could see the suspicion on his face, but that was the quickest thing you could come up with. Keeping secrets from the shadowsinger was a hard thing to do.
You sat there in Azriels arms for a while, the commotion around you disappearing. “Should we tell them too?” You asked, knowing how happy your family would be to hear the news.
“Not yet. I want to keep this a secret for a little while longer. Plus,” he turned to look at the rest of your family clinging their glasses together, “I think there’s been enough excitement for one day.”
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azrielhours · 2 years
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Shackles and Release
Azriel x Reader
Word count: 6.5k
Synopsis: Enemies to lovers. Reader hired to work on mission w Az against Eris but they get off on the wrong foot despite being attracted to each other. Nightmare + slight Who Did This to You. He hurts her accidentally. He Bandages Her™ lmao. Enjoy!! 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The first time you’d ever heard about Azriel Shadowsinger was through the grapevine at Autumn Court. Whispers about him coming to save Morrigan at the border where she was abandoned by her betrothed, Autumn’s heir. The same male you were now conspiring against with none other than the family who rescued Mor. You were set to meet the Shadowsinger this evening to be debriefed on the mission.
You were in the library, tucked behind a bookshelf reading on the floor when you heard the doors open and two male voices carrying in. “I just don’t see why we need to jeopardize this mission, how can we put so much reliance and faith in someone we don’t know?” The baritone voice was smooth and deep. You froze in apprehension, knowing what a precarious position you were in if you were caught eavesdropping. 
Before you could decide whether to make your presence known, the other male responded. “She’s an asset, Az.” Rhys. “She gives us the advantage of having worked on the inside, and Mor says Eris doesn’t know her.” You felt your heart rate increase. The other male was surely the Shadowsinger. You frowned. He doubted you? 
“I wouldn’t put it past her to double-cross us.” Your heart dropped. “We shouldn’t have to outsource during missions or breach confidentiality. I could have done this without her.” 
“You haven’t even met her, Az. You don’t have to fight every battle on your own, you know.”
“That’s not what this is. I’m just being cautious. It’s dreadful enough having to play nice with the princeling son of a bitch.” The condemning words of the male you hadn’t even met stung sharply in your chest, but you willed yourself to stay silent. Before the males could continue, you heard Feyre call for Rhys; you stayed seated in silence for a long while after both males followed her out of the library to calm down from the revelation at hand, to school your features into neutrality, and to decide to soldier on. Beron needed to be taken down. For Mor, you thought.
For me.
~
That evening, you were summoned by Rhys to meet Azriel. Taking a deep breath, you pushed down the feelings of hurt. Just make it through the mission, this was never about being his friend. You painted a cool look on your face and approached the two males waiting expectantly in Rhys’s office. Both their full attention was on you, but the Shadowsinger’s gaze was much heavier. Like he was looking right into the core of your being. Like he was the mind reader between the pair. The weight of his gaze made butterflies erupt in your stomach despite the revelation still at the front of your mind; you felt your mouth dry, though not in fear. 
Azriel was absolutely beautiful. 
Rhys smiled. “Y/n. Mor has told me lots about you. Thank you for agreeing to help us on our mission,” his low voice and calm demeanour humanized him in that moment. “This is Azriel,” he gestured to his brother. Azriel presented a cool, emotionless expression. He didn’t offer a hand to shake, not even a nod. You held his gaze unflinching until he finally looked elsewhere. Rhys went on to explain the plan at hand, which was to isolate Eris and strengthen his relationship with the Night Court as heir against the quietly growing threat posed by The Queens. If Rhys was shocked by your lack of approachability, he didn’t let on. “Right. I’ll leave you to it. I have to go over some reports with Cassian.” Rhys gave you a nod as he left the room which you returned. With the door closed behind him, you had to steel your nerves against the apprehension crawling up your spine. You turned to face Azriel again who had his arms crossed across his broad chest, shadows wisping around him with lethal promise. Of course he would be beautiful, you thought. Only a male this attractive could be so arrogant and dismissive. 
“Y/n.”
You suppressed a shiver at that baritone voice. “Azriel.” 
He sized you up for another moment, then began at long last. “Mor told me that you know Eris well. Tell me what you can about him.”
“I used to work at the Autumn Court. The servants used to talk about him and his affairs.” 
“We’ll be needing more than just servant gossip.” 
“It’s not just gossip,” you protested. “It’s also things I’ve seen during that time. How he is with his mother. He was different with her depending on whether Beron was present. Like he was putting on a performance.” 
Azriel continued to watch you with that scrutinizing gaze, and you had to resist the urge to squirm. “That doesn’t prove anything.” He shook his head minutely, like he was shocked Rhys believed in you if this was all you had to offer.
“What I’m trying to say is that lots of the females – me included – we believed that his cruelty is all for show. That’s got to mean something, and it’s no coincidence that he’s also heir.”
Azriel didn’t show if he agreed or disagreed. “Why did you leave the Autumn Court anyways?” 
You couldn’t hide your shock that time. “It’s… a long story.” You didn’t know what else to say, but you absentmindedly began touching your wrist. Azriel’s gaze shifted to your fidgeting, making you put your hands behind your back. He returned his gaze to your eyes, assessing you. You braced yourself for him to press the issue. 
“Fair enough.” Relief replaced the dread, shoulders releasing some tension. He was an entitled, privileged – and frankly, rude – male who clearly thought he was better than you, but at least he dropped the subject. You’d give him that. “The mission is simple. Eris is invited to a Court event later this week, and we need you to act as a Night Court spy alongside me.” He continued explaining the plan, and you nodded along dutifully. “One more thing,” he added as he wrapped up. “We need to go over some basic training exercises. Mor told me you didn’t receive training previously, and it's standard here for personnel hired for Rhys. Be at the ring tomorrow at dawn.” 
~
The next morning, you arrived at the training ring early to ensure Azriel didn’t get the opportunity to question your reliability, donning a leather set left in your room. When Azriel approached the ring, you stood. He didn’t acknowledge your punctuality, he simply nodded to you. That broody expression didn’t falter, neither did his standoffish demeanour.
“Alright. We’re going over basic self-defence, nothing crazy, and then we’ll call it a day.” He sounded about as excited as he looked. “First things first, fix your stance.” You glanced down to where you were stood, then looked back up at him in confusion. “Like this,” Azriel said, putting his left foot forward, legs shoulder length apart, tucking in his chin, and raised his arms in fists. You copied his stance as best as you could, but Azriel clicked his tongue in disapproval. To your shock, he approached you. You remained frozen where you were. He stopped right in front of you, and you had to crane your neck back to see his face. His expression still held some annoyance, but he cleared his throat. “May I.” It took a moment to realize what he was asking, and you nodded in consent. He then circled you, stopping behind you, and you had to suppress a shiver at the feel of his body heat. He nudged your left leg further forward, then placed his fingers gingerly on your shoulders and rotated your upper body slightly to the right. He then gently grasped your elbows from either side of you and raised your arms further. You followed the motion of his corrections despite the blush colouring your cheeks at the proximity.
He returned to his previous position across from you. He went over being aware of one’s surroundings, how to step into a blow, how to block a swing. You went through the motions he demonstrated for the better part of an hour as he watched. You may have imagined it, but you swore he finally gave a grunt in approval that felt far more rewarding than it should have. He finally asked you to begin sparring directly for practice. “Try landing a single hit,” he challenged. You had worked up a sweat by this point, breathing a little harder, but you nodded eagerly and approached him. You swung and weren’t remotely surprised when he easily ducked, nor were you surprised when this went on for the next few attempts. You swung a right hook that he easily ducked, this time also kicking your feet out from beneath you, causing you to land on your ass. He tsked when you scowled up at him. “You can do better than that, can’t you?” Was that amusement you heard in his tone? 
“Maybe I would have if I had a better teacher.” You couldn’t believe your ears at your remark as it left your lips. Azriel’s eyebrows rose in identical shock.
“I wouldn’t get mouthy if I were you.” 
“You seem to have that effect on females.” Fuck it, you thought. Someone needed to humble this male. And, yes, perhaps it was also resentment prompting you. He didn’t chuckle, but he also didn’t reprimand you. You got back up, swung once again, and Azriel ducked. This time, he pushed you into the momentum of your punch, causing you to topple over again. 
“Shit,” you gritted. He was infuriating. Still, you rose again, going for an uppercut. This time, however, Azriel blocked your swing, hitting you right on the inside of your wrist beneath your fist, causing you to gasp. Stinging pain erupted in your wrist, and you grabbed hold of it with your other hand. You froze at the feeling of vulnerability that coursed through you, and you couldn’t help but drop any semblance of cool composure in that moment. Azriel also stopped, noticing the shift in your demeanour, your wide eyes. 
“That’s not exactly how you block,” he said, voice marginally softer. He was treading lightly, trying to feel you out. You didn’t respond, feeling a sense of betrayal coursing through you despite how illogical it was to feel that. You didn’t respond. Azriel took another step towards you. “Y/n.” 
You let out a sharp exhale. “Wow. I… you’re really that petty, Azriel? You’d resort to deliberately hurting me?” You couldn’t stop the words before they were spoken, breathy and shaky, still clutching your wrist. 
Azriel faltered, his brows furrowing in alarm. “What?” 
You realized how you were coming off. And in front of the worst person to expose this vulnerability to, you thought. You shook your head, avoided his alarmed gaze, and said, “Sorry. I need to leave. Thank you for the lesson.” Mortifying. You began leaving and he didn’t stop you. 
You made it to your room and went to the bathroom to run cold water over your wrist, trying to calm your racing mind. You heard a knock on your door. Shit. You walked over to answer, knowing you’d have to face him eventually anyway. Azriel didn’t immediately enter, but you stepped aside and gestured for him to do so. In your space, he somehow seemed even bigger. You didn’t meet his gaze for a moment, then finally looked up. He still looked alarmed, so you began. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Why would you ever think I’d deliberately hurt you?” he asked, his voice gruffer than before.
“I know you wouldn’t. I’m sorry, I just… have weak wrists, it just caught me off guard.” You knew your response wasn’t nearly convincing enough, but you were too embarrassed to truly explain yourself.  
“It was just training. I’d never intentionally hurt you,” he pressed. He still sounded alarmed, and you felt a twinge of guilt. 
“You wouldn’t hurt me, but I know you don’t trust me.” The admission came out before you could stop yourself. That was the third time now that you felt words pulled out of you around him. You looked up and found him studying you, a troubled expression furrowing his features. 
He exhaled. “It’s not… because of you or anything. It’s just how I operate. Spies I work with are usually selected by and trained under me directly.” 
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the arrogance. “Don’t project your doubt onto me just because you’ve been privileged enough to make this your occupation.” Your voice was still shakier than before. You waited for him to argue but he didn’t correct you. 
He glanced at your wrist once more, then extended a scarred hand towards it. “Let me at least bandage it for you if it’s sprained.” You debated it for a beat. “Come on. This can be our truce. We got off on the wrong foot,” he pressed. You were shocked at the olive branch he was extending but decided to take it. You slowly placed your wrist into his massive hand, and you were pleasantly surprised at how gently he cradled it. 
“It’s not sprained. It’s just weak,” you explained as he softly rotated it. He inclined his head to your bathroom, and you let him lead you there. Once inside, he leaned against the counter with you a foot away from his towering frame. He held the edge of your sleeve with both hands and gently pulled it up to reveal disfigured skin there. You felt your cheeks burn and avoided his gaze when he looked at you in silent question. You knew it didn’t need to be bandaged, nor would that help it in any way, but he didn’t stop. He pulled bandages out of the drawers and began skillfully wrapping your wrist in medical tape. You were completely conscious of how close he stood. His hands were incredibly gentle, despite the scars he donned himself, despite their substantially larger size. You didn’t comment on his scars and he didn’t comment on yours; you felt yourself let your guard down at that moment. 
When he released your wrist, you rotated it a few times, and he watched your reaction as you couldn’t hide your pleasant shock at the crutch provided by the tape, which decreased the lingering pain. Looking up at him, you felt a change in the room, the tension between you as you took each other in the small space, standing so close. He continued studying you with that intense gaze, something you’d likely have to get used to, and you felt your throat dry. Perhaps you judged him too harshly for being diligent and cautious. “Thank you, Azriel,” you said, breaking his eye contact as heat rose to your cheeks. He nodded but didn’t make a move to step back or leave. Up close, he was even more handsome. Everything about him was piercing. His eyes, his bone structure. Masculinity seeped off him, and yet he had shown you such softness just moments before. You swallowed at the attraction you felt. Perhaps it would be easier if he stayed cold and distant, you thought. It was also unnerving to know his skillset made you more readable to him, and he likely knew where your thoughts went. And yet, there he still was, unmoving. 
You made yourself look at him again, and his throat bobbed as he held your gaze. This was dangerous territory. Especially with you having been in such a vulnerable headspace not even moments ago. But you couldn’t deny the change in the atmosphere, how his warm hands tended to your wrist… you let yourself move imperceptibly closer. Just an inch. He remained rooted firmly where he was. He rested his hand on the counter beside both of you, and you mimicked him by placing your hand close to his. Silent invitation. His gaze swept over your features. You tilted your chin slightly, his gaze pausing on your mouth, then went from one eye to the other, back to your mouth… you could’ve sworn he leaned lower by a hair, and then – his head turned sharply to the side, causing you to freeze. His shadows were whispering something inaudible in his ear. He turned back to you. “I have to go. Eris has arrived.” That cool expression returned to his face. He took a step back, and with one final glance your way, he left. Just like in the library, you remained frozen for long after he left. You took deep breaths in and out, clearing your head from the fuzzy haze you felt inside so strongly contrasting the cold, clear emptiness left in his abrupt absence. When you finally calmed down, you left as well. 
~       
The next day, you were to begin the mission directly involving Eris. You made your way to the study early to be there before Azriel. To your relief, you found only Mor in the room. She smiled warmly at you, inviting you to come sit. “How are preparations coming along with Azriel?” 
You felt your heart skip a beat, memories of that intense moment you shared with him the day before flashing in your mind. “Good.”
Mor laughed. “That bad?” 
You smiled at her pleasant nature. So different now was Morrigan, confident and healed, unlike the picture of obedience and quiet resignation you recalled all those years ago in your time working for Beron’s court. “He’s just… well he was colder than I expected at first, but I guess it’s a product of the occupation,” you shrugged. She urged you to continue with a nod. “I’m sorry if this is speaking out of line, but he just seemed like the typical, privileged male.” 
Mor’s mouth parted slightly. “I know he’s not the most welcoming person, but I do have to correct you there. He grew up in an environment that was… cruel, let’s say.” Her words were not unkind, though you did feel a cold pit in your stomach. You’d called him privileged to his face. You frowned at Mor’s words. She gave another smile. “It’s okay, I just wanted to give you a better idea that explains his nature so you don’t think it's personal or anything.” You nodded at her words. Mor looked hesitant for a moment but then spoke again. “I also don’t want to speak out of line, but I’ll say what is… more or less commonly known about him. He was hurt quite badly by his family.” Your mind flashed to the brutal scarring on his hands. Mor nodded in confirmation to where she no doubt suspected your mind went. Your heart dropped to your stomach. He was abused, and you’d judged him so harshly. You felt awful. Mor shook her head. “It’s okay, there was no way for you to have known.” That did little to relieve the guilt, though you supposed perhaps in continuation of the olive branch he extended the day before, apologizing would be easy enough to do.
Azriel appeared in the doorway then and informed you that it was time to go see Eris. “He’s early,” is all Azriel said as he led the way. No indication of the tension between the two of you the day before. “Just stick to the approach we went over. I’ll be there the whole time.”
“Azriel,” you placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder to stop his striding as he approached the door. “Before we begin, I want to tell you something…” You trailed off. 
Azriel gave you his undivided attention at that moment, brows slightly raised. “Can you tell me after?”
“I – Okay, yes I suppose.”
“Okay. Good.” The edges of his lips tipped up in the first smile – or as close to a smile as this was – since you arrived, so you simply smiled back nervously and took a deep breath as Azriel held the door handle, waiting for you to nod in affirmation. On your nod, you both entered. 
~
“Well, well. Tell me, what is it with you Night Court folks and only appointing attractive females to do your delegating?” The drawl came from Eris who was sprawled comfortably on an armchair, a lazy smirk on his face as he took you in. 
Azriel donned his mask of cool indifference again, though he seemed much tenser than you’d ever seen him. Gone was the tender male you saw in your bathroom. “Eris,” Azriel said curtly.
“What’s your name, love?” he addressed you. 
You opened your mouth to answer, but Azriel beat you to it. “Her name is Y/n. Keep this professional, Eris. We don’t have time for –”
“Y/n,” Eris cut Azriel off, his eyes still on you. “And I’m assuming you’re a spy for the Shadowsinger?”
“Yes. She’s mine.” Azriel’s voice was still soft but deadly. Your heart gave a stupid lurch.
“Why don’t you let the lady speak?” Eris said as he finally removed his gaze from you and looked at Azriel. You also took Azriel in; he looked calm, but his jaw was more clenched than you’ve seen since you arrived.
“I don’t need your permission either, Eris.” Thankfully, your remark didn’t sound shaky despite your nerves. You drew strength from the Spymaster adjacent to you, matching your mask of indifference to his.
Eris chuckled. “With fire like that, I would’ve guessed you belonged to the Autumn Court.” Your throat dried at the comment. Surely he didn’t suspect you, did he? 
Azriel stepped in thankfully. “As if you lot give your females the freedom to be so vocal.” 
Eris didn’t falter at the comment. You took the opportunity to bait him as Azriel planned with you before. “Unless of course, it's females being vocal behind the High Lord’s back. Say, for example, his wife and son.” 
To his credit, Eris only faltered for a second before regaining his composure. “And how, pray tell,” he drawled, “would you come to suspect such a thing?”
“We’re just warning you as allies to do your part against the queens to ensure that information like that doesn’t reach the wrong High Lord’s ears,” you finished. 
Eris’s eyes glimmered for a moment. He stood and sauntered over to you, smiling wickedly. “I wonder if this boldness carries over in other circumstances,” he said, voice dragging. Maybe he was baiting you back, maybe he was just leaning into the mask you’ve seen him put on and take off. “Speaking of which,” he continued, “perhaps you’d like to demonstrate just how free you are to be vocal.” He touched his fingers lightly beneath your chin, tilting your face up. 
Before you could react, Azriel shoved Eris back forcefully enough to startle you. The High Lord’s son stumbled back but didn’t fall, and before he could respond, Azriel stalked forward and clutched him by his collars. He spoke with a commanding tone that made you shiver; “Don’t you fucking touch her.” 
Eris gave Azriel an audacious smile. “Ah. A new plaything, then? Is that it?” 
You had to consciously force yourself not to look alarmed as the scene unfolded. “You’re an insufferable prick, Eris,” you chimed. Azriel slowly released Eris and walked back over to you as if he didn’t just put his hands on Beron’s son. You looked at Azriel whose jaw was visibly clenching and unclenching. 
You absentmindedly touched your bandaged wrist, and Azriel tracked the movement. He then turned to Eris once more. “This meeting is over. Go back to your room.” Azriel turned to leave the room before Eris could respond, and you followed him out. Once outside, Azriel didn’t slow down his strides.
“Azriel,” you said hesitantly. He slowed, breathing hard through his nose, not meeting your eyes. 
“I didn’t mean to get physical,” he said suddenly. 
“It’s okay.” You didn’t know what to say, if you should comfort him or leave him alone. He fully stopped and faced you, still looking bothered. You decided giving him space to cool down was a better choice. “It’s okay,” you repeated, shaking your head slightly. “I’ll just – I’ll see you later.”
When you went to walk by him, he gently grasped your elbow. “Wait,” he said, his voice softer. You paused. “You said you had something to tell me before.”   
You met his gaze. “Oh, yes. I wanted to apologize to you.”
His brows knit together. “What for?”
“Well,” you glanced around nervously, unsure how to broach the topic, especially with him in such an intense state. “I talked to Mor earlier, just about how things were going…” He gave you a nod to continue. “I wanted to apologize for calling you privileged earlier. I wasn’t aware that you… that your family, um –” you glanced at his hands for a split second. Before you could continue, you saw the change happen as it unfolded. He removed his hand from your elbow, shoulders tense, and his brows furrowed in an expression that made your stomach run cold. Shit. 
“Hold on,” he said taking a step back. “Is this pity?”
Horror coursed through you. This was going so wrong. It came out so wrong. You frantically shook your head. “No. No, that’s not what I –”
“You learn about my past and come to offer me your pity?” 
“No, Azriel. I just meant that I misunderstood you.”
“Do I look like some charity project? You think just because we’re working together that you need to know me?”
Though your cheeks burned with shame, you felt anger bubbling up at his coldness. “No, but I guess you’re not used to collaboration, what with you thinking you could’ve done all this without me. That you shouldn’t have to ‘outsource during missions’ and whatnot.” 
Shock cut through his quiet anger for a moment at what you revealed. “So you heard me and Rhys that day.” 
“You weren’t exactly being subtle for someone worried about confidentiality. I guess it was my mistake trying to understand you better.”
“You’re right. This was never about being friends.” That stung more than you were prepared for, and it likely showed on your face. You crossed your arms across your abdomen, feeling vulnerable. 
“I don’t know why I’m even working with you lot. I might as well go back to Autumn with Eris,” you lied. 
Azriel scoffed. “If that’s what you want, Princess, be my guest.” 
You huffed in frustration. “God, you’re so entitled.” 
“And you’re so aggravating.” He kept his body completely still and his voice didn’t raise once. “You know,” he took a step closer; you took a step back. “It’s not too late for you to go run after your little princeling.” 
“Maybe I’m just waiting for night to fall,” you retorted. That muscle ticked in his jaw as he glared down at you, and you glared up at him. He took a deep breath through his nose, taking another step closer to you. You took another step back and let out a small gasp as your back hit a wall.
“Good,” he said.
“Good,” you repeated. The burning in his eyes matched the burning you felt inside yourself. You were a fool to think someone as cold as he was would truly be civil.
The intensity of his stare had you faltering for a moment. He was a foot away at this point, his body completely turned to you, both of you breathing audibly. That tension from before crept up on you, electrifying the air once again. You swallowed to suppress the confusion you felt, the anger that contrasted the physical awareness you felt so vividly. “You know,” you began, and it came out softer than you intended. “You’re no more than a self-indulgent male who refuses to grow past your victimhood.” 
“Is that so.” His tone matched yours. He raised his arms slowly, slowly. He braced his hands on either side of your waist on the wall behind you. You had to nod instead of verbally responding because the tension was choking you. You both continued to silently stare at each other. His throat bobbed once. “I’m glad you could work all that out in your pretty little head,” he said, his voice so low, so gruff that you felt it course through your belly. 
“So am I.”
You felt every instant of that moment, and then just as quick as he had you against the wall, he dropped his arms and walked away. 
~
You tossed and turned for hours that night, uncertain how to face Azriel again after the encounter you had. As regretful as that interaction had been, as cruel as both of you had been to each other, it was underscored by that… craving, that pull that drew you two together. Such a contrast, and yet it also came so naturally. Thoughts of that ebb and flow eventually lulled you to sleep. 
Your dreams were of a hazel-eyed male, his brooding, his tenderness. You beckoned for him but couldn’t reach him. You called for his name, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of shackled limbs clanging, the noise growing as the steps advanced your way til it became suffocating; images of a consort with bruises that could be easily covered, her high lord with his tyrannical rule that was less subtle, male anger, abandoning the prison sentence that was Autumn court, and –
You gasped awake. Sweat beading on your forehead, you had to fist your sheets until your heaving calmed down. Nightmares were a common occurrence. You could still feel the lingering aches from your dream, and you touched the phantom pain in your wrists until you were certain nothing was there. You took deep breaths and decided to go distract yourself, lest you fall asleep and fall back into the same nightmare. 
You padded quietly through the halls of the House, not knowing where exactly to go. The only residents staying the night were Cassian, Azriel, and – Eris. You halted your steps, having forgotten Eris was here. Unease crawled up your spine. You’d stopped fearing the heir since you began seeing his hidden tenderness with his mother, but with your nightmare still so fresh in your mind, you couldn’t help but shudder at the reminder of your past. You turned around to put physical distance between you and the prince, and for good measure, you headed to Azriel’s room just in case.
You walked until you made it there, then you stopped yourself. What the hell am I doing? This was the last place to go. In fact, if he sees you here, there’s a very high chance he’ll think you did seek out Eris like you said. That thought had you turning around just as quickly as you came. You decided the kitchen was a safe zone to calm down and get your head on right since it clearly wasn’t all currently there. 
In the kitchen, you braced your hands on the counter and took deep breaths to ground yourself., until you heard a throat being cleared behind you, which had you turning around. Azriel stood in the doorway taking you in. Neither of you said anything for a moment until you spoke. “I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”
Azriel looked at you for another beat before shaking his head once. “No, I couldn’t sleep.”
“How’d you know I was here?”
“My shadows.” They wove around his hands as if in emphasis. “They told me the second you left your room.”
“Ah.” You shifted your weight between your legs and played with the hem of your sleeve under his gaze. When you looked up again, he was still studying you, that chronic intensity enduring.
“Why didn’t you knock?” He asked suddenly.
“What?”
“When you came to my room. Why didn’t you knock?” 
You blinked, dumbfounded. “I don’t know,” you said softly. A sense of exposure from the nightmare spread through your abdomen. There would be little to no hiding behind any bravado this time around, and at this point, you were too worn out to try.
“You’re shaking,” he said quietly. You glanced down, and sure enough, there was a slight tremor in your fingers. “I’m sorry. About earlier.” That had you glancing back up at him. He finally entered the threshold of the kitchen. 
“Is this pity?” you joked, offering a small smile in truce. He didn’t return the smile, still looking concerned.
“I’m sorry for lashing out at Eris, and for getting angry at you after. I was just… never mind.” He broke your eye contact, shaking his head a bit.  
“Tell me,” you whispered hoarsely.
Azriel looked at you in silence before speaking. “I was mad at the idea that you could want Eris.” 
Your brows turned upward in shock and snorted lightly. “Are you out of your mind?” Azriel didn’t respond. “Azriel.”
He shook his head again. Then he walked towards you. He grasped both of your wrists in each of his hands with such gentleness that it made your chest ache. He pulled you to the table and guided you to sit in one of the seats, so you did. Then he turned away, putting a kettle on the stove. 
“What are you doing?”
“Making you some tea,” he said. You watched in silence as he worked, admiring the way he moved so gracefully even at night, even when he’d likely just been woken up as you suspected, despite what he claimed. 
Once he was done, he brought two mugs to the table and sat across from you. You thanked him and took yours in unsteady hands. “You had a nightmare.” You nodded in confirmation. He didn’t pry or suggest that you speak, likely because you looked as distraught as you felt inside. “You did really well today, you know.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “The authority and the timing were well done. We could still make a spy out of you yet.”
You gave a small smile. “I’ll only take you up on that if we have trust between each other.” 
He looked at you. Then he cleared his throat. “What Mor told you was true… about my family hurting me.” He clenched and unclenched his fingers, looking down as he spoke. “It was my own brothers that hurt me. They burned my hands.” Your throat dried, and he met your gaze again. You dared to reach out and grasp his hand. He maintained eye contact, and finally squeezed your fingers. 
Touched by him opening up to you, you decided you’d use the given space and time between the two of you to reciprocate the sentiment; the kind of honesty and faith that came easier at night. “When I worked at Autumn, they caught me doing extra favours for Mor than I was allowed. I snuck meals into her room so she could avoid having them with Eris, warned her of his schedule so she could try to avoid him, lots of things. Some courtiers figured this out and reported me to Beron. They put shackles on my wrists as part of my punishment. It made washing dishes and basic movement very painful.” You rolled up your sleeves to show him the scars he’d already seen. “I have nightmares about the punishment, the confrontation with Beron, the fear I felt working there anyways.” You glanced at Azriel. He was tense with anger despite his silence as he listened.
“That’s why you left,” he said finally. You nodded. “You don’t plan on going back, do you?”
“Not since committing treason.” You smiled, feeling lighter. He barked a laugh.
“Perfect,” he said.
“Perfect,” you repeated. His eyes twinkled, chuckling as the heaviness from your confessions was released. “I might have to look into permanent hiring.” 
“I know a guy.” You laughed easily now.
“That’s a lot of honesty for a Spymaster,” you teased.
“One for one,” he grinned deeply.
“Alright. Let me hear another.”
He still had that glint in his eyes, but his smile faded a bit. “You are wildly beautiful.” You felt your eyes widen and cheeks flush. His smile returned at your reaction. “I thought it from the start.” He swallowed once and nodded at you. “Your turn.”
You cleared your throat. “You are disturbingly and insufferably attractive. It’s making me feel insane.” He laughed again, and it was a sound you never wanted to stop hearing.
Your hand still held his, and you ran your thumb lightly over one of the raised scars. A declaration of your oneness in that moment. The release of your past, of your pains. He didn’t stop you. His eyes tracked the movement, and when he looked up at you again, that wild focus reappeared. The hunger. You swallowed, still unused to his unyielding intensity. “Let me walk you to your room.”
He stood, and you held his gaze as you stood as well, hand in hand. He led you to your room, both of his hands behind his back holding one of yours. With every step down the halls, you felt warmer and warmer in your lower stomach. As if every step forward had the two of you wading into thicker air, where the tension was slowly swallowing you two whole. Him holding your hand and guiding you in the dark felt as intimate as when you bore your past to him in the wake of your raw vulnerability. Yet, instead of fear, all you felt was trust. 
Once you made it to your door, he turned to face you, and you craned your neck to look up at him in the dark. You felt your heart rate increase. That ebb and flow between the two of you made itself known again, like a conversation between your spirits. Neither of you made any attempt to break contact. You tugged down on his hand, pulling him down to you, and he didn’t hesitate to deliver what you wished. He bent down immediately and kissed you with all the fervour you felt inside that had been brewing for the past few days. He kissed you with the same intensity that you regularly felt in his gaze, one that you could always count on finding. He removed his hand from yours to put both his hands on your head, thumbs beneath your jaw as he tipped your head further upwards to kiss you deeper. You couldn’t help the gasp you let out at the force, and you drank up every drop of what he gave.
When he broke away from the kiss, you felt drunk. You finally opened your eyes, both of you breathing hard. He looked at you in silent question. You nodded. “Yes.” He grabbed the door handle to your room behind you, turned it on your nod as you began walking in backwards. “Yes.” You grabbed his hands in both of yours and pulled him inside. Yes. Azriel took one giant stride towards you and hauled you into his arms with alarming ease. 
“You’re mine,” he said. 
“Good.”
“Good.” 
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offtorivendell · 2 years
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Have we done this yet?
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For A.Sara (@alwayssara).
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starlight-hope · 9 months
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Azriel's New Nickname
Don't get me wrong, I love calling him Az. But you can't tell me that Cassian or Rhysie never called him "Ariel" before dying of laughter. Azriel would have had to use ALL the blackmail material he has on them to make sure they never bring up Ariel again.
But when Rhys finds a childrens book while looking for something to read to Nyx at bedtime, and that childrens book happens to have the story of a specific red haired mermaid... Let's just say Uncle Az quickly becomes Princess Uncle to Nyx. And the rest of the IC have to control their laughter each time Nyx calls him that.
Azriel hates it, no doubt there. But how can he ever say no to that adorable little batling. Az is wrapped around his nephew's little finger. And he definitely will be taking revenge from his brothers in training but he can't bring himself to ever say no to Nyx.
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prythianpages · 6 months
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since I brought up the next update, I do have a question.
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nova-stardragon · 1 year
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Just watched the greatest showman and now am battling the strong urge to not write a circus ACOTAR au and it's problematic
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moononastring · 2 years
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Azzie boy, your uh, temper is showing 👀😂
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feverdreamwaterhorse · 3 months
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ACOTAR is just a Phineas and Ferb fanfiction. No, I will jot be taking questions
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Of Oblivious Minds
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Pining, yearning, idiots in love?? (an angsty moment as well)
a/n: What am I doing!! I don't know!! This is part one and there will be one or two more parts :) Thank you for reading ily ♡
Part 2
~~
You were having an epiphany—of that you were certain. 
Sitting in the main room of the townhouse, a glass of wine spinning in your hand, many things were beginning to make sense to you. It was ridiculous that you hadn’t come to this realization before. All of the hints were right in front of you. 
You leaned back in the armchair, a scrutinizing gaze pointed toward the corner of the room. You took a sip of your wine—a contemplative sip—and then ran through the facts in your head. Yes, it made perfect sense. 
You wanted to kick yourself for not noticing before. 
“Don’t hurt yourself thinking so hard.” Cassian’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. You blinked up at him as he took a seat on the arm of your chair. “Want to share why you’re staring a hole into the wall?” 
“I was just… noticing something,” you murmured over the rim of your glass, voice low. 
“And what’s that?” 
You paused, pursing your lips. It would sound silly if you were wrong. But Cassian looked at you expectantly, so you simply whispered, “I think Az is in love with Elain.” 
The sudden, rumbling laugh bouncing off the walls set your cheeks ablaze. The entire room halted their conversations to look at Cassian as he doubled over, holding his stomach with no signs of letting up. You stared up at him, mortified, and smacked his arm as his laughs lowered into senseless chuckles. 
“Cassian, quit it. It’s not that funny—stop it or I’ll hit you again.” 
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Sorry, that was just… that was a good one, y/n.” 
“What’d she say?” Rhys asked, perking up from the other side of the fireplace. 
“Nothing to warrant that reaction,” you grumbled, sinking lower into your seat. 
Fighting back the vibrations in his chest, Cassian took a deep breath. “Inside joke, Rhys. You wouldn’t get it.” 
Rhys huffed out an offended breath, quirking a brow at his antics. He looked to Mor and Feyre to garner some support, but they only giggled back at him. 
“Maybe we would.” 
Azriel’s gravelly tone only made you collapse further into the armchair. If you’d known there would be consequences to sharing your epiphany with Cassian, you would have kept your mouth shut. Cassian was usually wonderful at keeping secrets. 
“Oh, brother, you’d find it funny as well, surely,” Cassian shared, heaving up from the chair. “But, alas, I have to go. No inside jokes for the room.” 
“Well that’s not fair. You don’t get to cause a riot and then leave,” Mor whined, her cheeks rosy and her eyes glassy. Clearly, she had been having her own drinks throughout the night. 
“Lovely. Now you want to know? Where was that attitude while you were giggling with my mate?” Rhys accused. 
Feyre jumped in this time, pinching the high lord’s cheek and cooing, “Oh, you big Illyrian baby.” 
The focus was no longer on you and your apparently laughable realization. Cassian’s reaction did little to deter you from the thought, however, and you were still quite resolute in your observations. Looking over at the couple in question only solidified that. 
They were huddled close, Elain’s knees pressed against Azriel’s thigh as they spoke in low tones. Azriel would occasionally take a glance around the room, lingering on you as he went, but that was natural for the shadowsinger. His shadows were gone, where they went you had no idea, and his wings were held tightly behind his back. 
And he stared at her—intently—as she nodded her head and answered whatever it was he had asked. 
He had to be in love with her. 
You were usually quite good at reading these types of things. 
“I’m taking you home now,” Cassian spoke, holding out his hand. “We’ll walk.” 
“What if I don’t want to go home?” you asked, taking his hand and following him despite your words. 
“After all that nonsense, I think it’s clear you need a good night’s rest. Plus, you and I are in the ring bright and early tomorrow morning.” 
You groaned, knocking your head back at the reminder of your obligations. It always sounded like such a good idea over breakfast. Cassian had clearly learned that you would only say yes to early morning trainings when you were half-asleep. 
“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.” 
You let him yank you to the door, your feet dragging behind you, when a warmth encased your shoulders. You recognized the material of your coat instantly and turned to see Azriel smoothing it down over your arms. 
“For your walk,” Azriel quietly explained. “You left it on the back of my chair.” 
“Oh!” you chirped, feeling the early licks of embarrassment barrage your chest. It’s not like he heard you talking about him, right? “Thanks, Az. I almost forgot.” 
He offered you one of his soft, rare smiles. “I know. I remembered.” 
He nodded over your head to Cassian after that, and you heard Cassian’s low, I got her, Az, only because you strained your ears. 
You ended up being extremely grateful for Azriel’s forethought to grab your jacket. It was freezing outside. You could have winnowed home instead, but Cassian hadn’t really given you the option and no one ever let you winnow after you’d had something to drink. 
You landed in Summer Court one time and suddenly everyone treated you like a hazard. 
Your shoes scuffed against dark cobblestone as you walked. It was really dark, now that you looked at it. Maybe it had rained? Or a merchant had dumped their excess water? 
Or maybe it was nighttime and you were a little drunk. 
It was then that you noticed the silence. When Cassian walked you home, especially when Cassian was tipsy and he walked you home, he never shut up. So this was unusual. You squinted as you looked up at him, but he gave nothing away, keeping his gaze forward and his steps in steady pace with your own. 
“Okay, out with it,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest. “What was so funny earlier? And why are you walking me home all stoic?” 
“I’m always stoic. Adds to my charm.” 
“Liar.” 
Cassian smirked, shaking his head, and then schooled his expression into one that was a touch more serious. “You really think Az likes Elain?” 
You watched your breath puff out white. “Don’t you?” 
“No, I don’t.” 
You shot him a skeptical glance. “Well, then you’re wrong. I’m good at picking these things out. I knew Feyre was Rhys’s made before the rest of you figured it out, didn’t I?”
“It was pretty obvious, y/n,” Cassian scoffed. He took a fleeting glance down to the ground beneath your feet. “Honestly, I’d wager that you’re actually the worst at picking these things out.”  
You gaped at him, bringing your coat closer to your body in a ploy to protect your damaged pride. Cassian only shook his head—again—and then flung an arm over your shoulder. 
“Don’t take that the wrong way. Just…take a second look, maybe.” 
“A second look at what? She was practically sitting in his lap tonight.” 
“If you say so,” Cassian hummed. 
“Stop being cryptic and buy me a snack on the way.” 
~~
The following days were… strange to say the least. 
Everywhere you went, Elain of all people was sure to follow.
And she spoke of Azriel. A lot. 
Azriel did this and Az is so sweet isn’t he and oh, did I mention that…
Obviously, she was just as in love with Azriel as he was with her. 
You were so, so right. 
There was something off-putting about that truth, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. After a few days of hearing the younger girl rave about the shadowsinger, you chalked it up to the novelty of it all. You had known Azriel for over a century, and things were changing. Of course a serious love interest in his life would make you feel strange. 
Azriel had had lovers in the past, but—now that you thought about it—you hadn’t heard him talk about another woman in months, much less seen him with one. 
Well, other than Elain. 
Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, nor productive, to be so caught up in Azriel’s love life. He was plenty capable of managing it on his own, and it’s not like you had that much of an interest, anyway. 
You blinked, shaking your head and attempting to focus back in on the book you were reading. Elain had followed you into the library under the house, but thanks to the priestesses and their admonishing looks, she kept quiet. She flipped through her own book as you continued your research assignment from Rhys. It wasn’t very interesting, which was clearly the most plausible explanation for your mind drifting to Azriel. 
Boring texts were the leading cause of nosiness.
“Do you have dinner plans?” Elain whispered after an hour of silence. 
You sent her a small smile, looking up from the archaic book. “No, are you inviting me out?” 
“Perhaps. I was thinking of asking Azriel.” 
A suffocating sort of pressure clawed at your skin. “Oh?” 
That was new. 
“Yes, but I would really appreciate it if you came,” Elain continued, eyes downcast. “It could be fun.” 
You bit into your bottom lip until the pain was uncomfortable. This was no different than her talking about Azriel all week. And you already figured that they liked each other—that they loved each other. You had relished in the discovery just a few nights ago. 
So why did it suddenly feel so different?
“I wouldn't want to intrude,” you whispered. “I think a dinner with just the two of you would be nice. Azriel would surely agree.” 
Elain shook her head. “I think he would be more inclined if he knew you were coming.” 
As a buffer. She was asking you to come to displace any awkwardness that would arise on a first date. You had done it before for Cassian. You’d done it plenty of times for Mor—even making it a double date with random men you never spoke to again. But you’d never done it for Azriel. 
Something about it felt… wrong. 
“I could come,” you found yourself saying anyway, words tumbling out before you could catch them. “But I really do think he would love a dinner alone. I might be a bit of an outlier.” 
Elain gave the closest thing to a smirk you’d seen on her face. “I somehow doubt that.” 
“What does that—” 
The ground was shaking. The faelights began violently flickering and the ground began shaking with even more vigor. You pressed down on the book in front of you and braced yourself as the air grew frenzied. The priestesses ran down the many stairs of the library as panic began setting into your bones. The last time something like this happened… 
You shuddered at the thought. 
This couldn't be an attack on Velaris. 
Elain called your name. You answered with wide eyes. 
“Get under the tables!”
You both dove beneath your table at the call, clutching at the legs with shaking hands. There was a commotion as books fell from shelves and lights popped, but there were no screams. No one was hurt. There was no attack. 
Realization coursed through you, but it did little to quell your fear as the shaking continued. 
“It’s an earthquake!” you shouted to Elain. “It’s okay, we’re going to be fine!” 
Velaris hadn’t been struck by an earthquake of this magnitude in many, many years. The last one was centuries ago, and it had led to many rebuilding efforts and a handful of injuries. You hoped this wasn’t on the same scale. Or at least that Rhys’ magic was enough to abate the worst of the damages. 
After another moment, the shaking ceased. You let the panic and adrenaline run its course as you caught your breath, Elain right beside you. It didn’t seem so bad now that it was over and the building had stayed intact. With a hand at your chest, you shook your head in disbelief. 
“By the cauldron, that was unexpected.” 
Elain let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt an earthquake before.” 
You offered your own breathy laugh as you both got to your feet. “Well, you have plenty of time to get The Mother scared out of you and experience another.” 
She opened her mouth to reply but was abruptly cut off as shadows materialized. Heavy footsteps rushed up stairs and it was only another beat before Azriel was upon you. Scarred hands cradled your face, turning it back and forth as hazel eyes took in every inch of your skin. Light became sparse as wings flared out behind him, shielding you from nothing.
“Are you hurt?” he demanded, voice still low despite the urgency. “Were you covered?” 
“Azriel? What are you—How did you know we were down here?” 
“Are you hurt?” 
You attempted to reconcile the chaotic present with the very calm, very expected past. Sitting in the library with a boring relic in front of you and a new reading partner compared to an earthquake and a frazzled shadowsinger clutching at your face. 
Gripping his wrists, you answered him with a slow and confused, “I’m fine.” 
He closed his eyes as he let out a long breath. “Good…. good.” 
When he released your face, he ran his hands along your hair. And then your shoulders and your arms. It wasn’t until he had touched most of you that he took a step back and ran a hand through his own hair. It was then that he seemed to remember Elain. 
“And are you alright?” he asked, far more composed than he had been a moment ago. 
“A bit overwhelmed, but I am fine as well,” she sighed out. 
Azriel didn’t touch her as he nodded in relief. 
“Was it as bad as the last one? Is everyone okay?” you cut in. 
Azriel, who had gone back to unnecessarily looking you over, furrowed his brows. “What?” 
You mirrored his expression. “The earthquake. Do you remember the last one? Was this one that bad?” 
“Oh. No. Not as bad.” 
“And how is everyone else?” 
“I’m not sure.” 
Azriel was typically short with his answers, but right now he was being particularly short. And he was never one to not have information. Ever. 
“Are you okay?” you asked instead. 
“I am now.”
You left the library wondering why Azriel had run to you and not Elain—why that moment felt so monumental in the face of all others. 
Maybe being right wasn’t what you wanted anymore. 
But maybe that wasn’t your decision to make. 
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bat-boys · 1 month
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domestic bliss
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 4.5k words
warning: suggestive language but no actual smut. just lots and lots of fluff!
summary: a series of scenes that give an insight into the domestic bliss you had built with your mate
a/n: oh my goshhh thank you so much for all the love and so sorry I've been a bit MIA. I'm in the middle of a couple of wips that I'm struggling to piece together so wanted to give you something quick whilst I get my act together. I hope you enjoy it loves 🫶🏻
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Part 2
A soft breeze and warm sunlight trickled into the room through the open floor-to-ceiling doors leading out to your room's balcony. The sounds of the birds chirping outside and the busy city below created a peaceful atmosphere that soothed your soul as you lay stretched out on your bed, book in hand.
A noise akin to a purr escaped the lips of the fae male sprawled across your body, head resting gently on your stomach, as you combed your fingers through his luxurious midnight black curls. Your lips tilted up in an affectionate smile as you continued to soak up the words on your page. As you gently scraped your fingernails along his scalp, another deep groan elicited, leaving you giggling and your toes curling. 
Sundays like this were your favourite. Slow, lazy and steady. Filled with quiet moments of simplicity. When Azriel wasn't busy off doing god knows what, god knows where, and you didn't have to attend any stuffy meetings or pour over lengthy negotiations and treaties as the emissary of the Night Court. When your mate could spend the day with you lounging in bed, just enjoying each other's presence. 
"Why did you stop?" Az grumbled as you lifted your hand away from his head. 
"I was turning the page, dummy." You chuckled at him. 
"Well, hurry up."
"Big Illyrian baby," you cooed, a soft yelp leaving your lips when you felt Azriel gently bite down on the stretch of bare skin he was resting on. A satisfied sound left his lips—and caused your eyes to roll—when he felt your fingers back in his hair. 
You, however, couldn't help the pulse of love and affection you sent down the bond when the next time you had to turn the page, one of his shadows appeared to do it for you.
Another chapter of your book was read before he spoke again, dispersing the soft, comfortable silence that had fallen between you. You had been convinced he had fallen asleep as you played with his hair. 
"When do you go to the Court of Nightmares?" He mumbled against your skin, his lips pursing to kiss your hip quickly. 
"Tomorrow." You sighed. It was your least favourite job as the official emissary, the one you dreaded doing every couple of weeks. Like Mor, you had been born under that particular mountain, crafted in its dark shadows, a dreamer bred to be a nightmare. It had taken years of wit and cunning to get to a position to meet the High Lord, years of barely surviving until you could petition him for a job—anything to get out of there. 
"Do you want me to come with you?" He lifted his head slightly, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Silver nearly lined your eyes as you took in his soft, gentle expression. Azriel understood just how much going there took out of you. He knew that you would return home hollow and would require the rest of the night to be cooped up in bed with his arms around you. 
He also recognised that you could absolutely do it alone. That you didn't need him beside you. You were strong enough to face your past head-on and would leave whatever meeting you were attending with Rhys and Feyre with the winning cards in your hand. But that didn't stop him from offering a comforting hand to hold throughout your time there. 
"Please." You whispered. His lips stretched into a gentle smile as he lifted his body off you to scoot up the bed and press his lips to yours in a loving kiss. 
"Of course, my love." And you knew that was that. No explanations, no words needed to be exchanged with Rhys. When it was time to travel to the Court of Nightmares, you would find your mate beside you, a reassuring hand in your own as he stood quietly beside you. 
Azriel could see the tumultuous thoughts flitting across your brain, so he did the only thing he could. He bent down once again to press his lips to yours, pouring as much love and affection as he could down that beautiful, gleaming bond you shared. 
Kissing Az never got boring, even after all these years together. He captured your bottom lip in his plush, slightly chapped lips, tugging slightly to elicit a soft groan from you, which he swallowed with his mouth. You lifted your arms to circle his neck, gently playing with the soft hairs there - your book long discarded and falling to the floor. He sighed against you as he wrapped his arms around your bare torso, pulling your chest flush against his as he deepened the kiss into something fiery that had a slow, dull ache beginning between your legs. 
You could feel him against your inner thigh and smirked against his lips as you reached a finger towards his impressive wings and carefully dragged a fingernail along the underside of his right wing where they met his back, a spot you had discovered many years ago. A primal part of you stretched out in satisfaction as you felt Azriel shudder against you at the touch. 
"So eager to go again, my love?" He teased, alluding to the several times he had already taken you that day as he gently nipped your skin before torturously slowly pressing open-mouthed, hot kisses along your jaw and down the column of your neck.
"Distract me, Az." You breathed, tipping your head back to expose even more of your delicate neck to him, groaning when you felt his canines skimming along your skin. 
"With pleasure, sweetheart."
The noise was almost deafening, the room packed to the brim with politicians, courtiers, nobility and High Lords and their entourages. It was enough to overwhelm anyone, but Azriel watched from the edge of the room as you dazzled person after person, drifting from one group of fae to the next, completely and totally in your element. 
You enjoyed nights like these when you got to flex the skills you had built up as an emissary to the Night Court, speaking to old friends, charming acquittances, and building friendships with those you had yet to meet. The beautiful deep black gown you wore also helped. 
Azriel watched as you stood amongst courtiers from the Winter Court, catching up with some of the gossip from one of your allies. A flute of champagne dangled from your fingers; half drank as you tipped your head back to laugh at something one of your friends had said. The dress you wore tonight was some torture explicitly designed for him. It was sleeveless, showing off the delicate curves of your shoulders and décolletage, the high swell of your breasts threatening to spill over the top of your dress every time you drew breath. The slit that every now and then gave Azriel the view of the smooth curve of your leg was maddening. But what was true torture was the choker around your neck, encrusted with gems the same colour as his siphons—a reminder of where his hands had been last night. 
He had almost sent a mental note to Rhys that the pair of you wouldn't be attending the party tonight when you had emerged from your bathroom and asked him to zip you up—favouring the idea of ravishing you right there and then. It was only the thought of watching you so expertly work the room, charming everyone so thoroughly, but knowing that only he had the privilege to take you home, that had him attending tonight.
As if you could hear his thoughts, your eyes drifted from the fae before you to lock eyes with your mate across the room. Matching smirks danced on your lips as he nodded at you, and you nodded back - an inside joke between the two of you started on that first official party you had been forced to attend when the mating bond was still so new. 
A fire built in your body, beginning in your stomach and dipped lower and lower as you watched him push off the wall he had been leaning on and stalk towards you. He never once dropped eye contact, his shadows twirling before him and telling him where to step, creating a direct path to you. 
You tracked him across the room, your skin burning from his gaze. When he stopped just in front of you, his shadows dispersed to dance among your skirts and play with the hair that cascaded down your back. 
"Emissary." He greeted, bending his body into a tight bow whilst that playful smirk danced on his lips. 
"Shadowsinger." You purred. 
"Rhys has asked to see you urgently." The desire swirling in his hazel eyes made the grin on your lips widen as your stomach dipped in anticipation. 
"Excuse me." You politely bowed your head to the people you previously held court with, dropping your now empty glass on a nearby table as you followed Azriel out of the room. 
Your heels clacked on the beautifully tiled floor as you closed the distance between you and Azriel. You were still walking behind him but close enough to brush your hand against his. He turned his head slightly to smirk at you, and you felt his hand beside you curl and unfurl as he resisted the urge to touch you in front of everyone. 
After moments of strutting through the House of Wind, you reached a part of the house away from the centre of the party, with fewer and fewer people milling around. It was only then that, with lightning-fast speed, Azriel's hand whipped out to grab yours and pull you into a shadowy alcove. 
With firm hands, he pushed you against the wall, his shadows swirling to hide you from prying eyes, as one of Azriel's hands dropped to your hips and the other reached up to grip your neck. You groaned in delight at the feeling of his hands on you, the messy, feverish kisses he was now peppering along the bare skin of your neck, shoulder and collarbones. 
"Az." You moaned as you felt his canines drag along that sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the slight sting. 
"Fuck Y/N." He groaned into your skin, relishing in the way you tasted - so sweet. Even after years of being together, he would never get tired of tasting you, of his lips and tongue on your flesh, on your lips and in between your thighs. 
"What if we get caught?" You managed to say, your chest heaving as you breathed heavily, hands gripping Azriel's broad shoulders tightly. 
"That's never stopped you before, love." He teased as he ran his lips across the swell of your breasts, his touch feather-light, causing a shiver to run down your body and your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
The hand that was holding your hips in his grasp moved to slip under the slit of your dress, skimming down the curve of your leg, tracing over your knee and down your calf before wrapping around your thigh to lift it and hook it over his hips.
"You were torturing me out there, Princess." His voice had become deep and husky, and he elicited a groan from your lips as he was able to press his hips into yours with the new angle. Your body was set alight as you felt his straining erection through the material of his pants as he pushed into you. 
"Looking delicious in that dress for everyone to see." His words caused molten lava to pool in your stomach, the throbbing at the apex of your thighs to become incessant, and the wetness gathering there began to drip down your thigh. 
Anticipation curled in your stomach as you felt Azriel's hand travel from your thigh to your hip, skimming so lightly it was pure torture down your bikini line before reaching your swollen and slick sex - freezing when he realised he had unrestricted access.
"You've got to be kidding me, no underwear? Fuck you're killing me love." He groaned against your neck, roughly nipping at your jaw and causing a moan of your own to slip past your lips.
"All for you, Az." You whispered, throwing your head back against the solid wall behind you as he traced your slit, gathering the wetness pooling there.
"There they are." Rhys's unbothered drawl broke through the hazy atmosphere you were creating in your shadowy alcove, shattering the moment and causing you both to freeze. 
"I knew those lovebirds hadn't gone far." Cassain chuckled from beside Rhys. You knew Azriel's shadows were keeping you covered, that they couldn't see anything and could only recognise you both because they knew how his shadows felt and what they looked like to the untrained eye. 
"Piss off, Cass." Azriel snarled as he slowly extracted himself from you, carefully dropping your leg and trying to straighten your dress. 
"Someone's cranky," Cassain teased, and you rolled your eyes as you watched Azriel's face turn into a murderous expression. Azriel was usually so calm and collected, not easy to rattle at all, except when it came to you. 
"You know not to interrupt a male and his mate." You sighed as you gripped the front of the dress and tried to rearrange it over your chest. You noted the still-hungry look in Azriel's eyes as he watched your every move. A promise in his gaze that told you this wasn't over. 
"If you wanted to enjoy each other's company in the hallway, that's totally up to you; we get it - looking beautiful as ever Y/N -," Rhys added as Azriel dropped his shadows once you looked presentable, "but we're doing a debrief in my office, and then you're all done for the night so you can move this to your bedroom if you wish…"
"We'll be there in 5 minutes," Azriel managed to grind out, his eyes still on yours, desperately trying to calm down. 
"Is that all he lasts?" Azriel's eyes flared, and you knew Cassain had overstepped. You gave them both an eye roll, territorial fae bullshit. 
"Cass," you warned as you heard your best friend chuckle at the snarl that ripped out of Azriel's mouth as he sauntered back down the hallway. 
Azriel padded through the quiet hallway of the home he shared with you. His feet were cool as they touched the dark wood floor, a nice contrast to the heat pushing up against the windows from the summer sun outside. His shadows flitted and danced around him as they coaxed him to follow them, to follow them to her. His lips curled up in amusement at their behaviour as he neared the kitchen, where he could hear you humming and the soft sounds of you bustling around the kitchen. 
He rounded the corner to lean on the doorframe; strong arms crossed over his bare chest as he took in the scene before him. His heart almost stopped dead at the sight of you standing at the large island in the middle of the room, mixing bowl in front of you and wooden spoon in hand, your glorious hair pulled half up into a messy bun tied at the back of your head - tendrils falling around your face and gleaming in the sun -, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. 
A deep and primal part of him purred at the sight of you in his clothes, knowing that it was unlikely you had anything under that soft cotton. The fit was incredibly baggy on you, the hemline falling to your mid-thigh, the collar threatening to slip down your shoulder, and the sleeves so long you had had to roll them up. He delighted in being taller than you, bigger than you. A small part of him always soared when he bundled you up in his arms, being able to protect you with just his body. He knew, more than anyone, that you could handle yourself. In a tight situation, you could take down as many enemies as he could. But there was something so delightful about your body being so much smaller than his. 
A soft melody slipped past your lips, and Azriel joined in as he pushed off the doorframe. Unable to contain the need to touch you any longer, he approached you. You jolted slightly at the feeling of his large, warm hands on your hips, and a soft yelp left your lips when you felt Azriel bury his head in your hair and press a chaste kiss to the skin of your neck.
"Morning, love," Azriel mumbled into your hair, breathing in your intoxicating scent. 
"More like afternoon, babe; we spent all morning in bed!" you joked as you turned back to the task at hand.
"And whose fault is that." Azriel teased as he pulled away from your neck to reach around and gently nip at your earlobe, which sent a lick of fire straight to the apex of your thighs.
"Yours." You shot back, angling your head slightly to look at your mate.
"Hmm, I'm not so sure about that," he smirked, his beautiful hazel eyes dancing with mischief and desire as he dipped his head to press your lips in a searing kiss. Kissing Azriel was like this: all or nothing. Either his kisses were chaste, quick things meant to convey a simple hi or, more often than not, a quick acknowledgement of you during conversations or as you passed each other in corridors or hallways. His other types of kisses were slow, leisurely and utterly torturous, and he poured every ounce of love he had for you into them. His lips moved lazily with yours, licking across the seam of your lips and begging for entrance before licking into your mouth - your knees almost buckling at the intoxicating sensation and the fire burning in your body. He knew what he was doing, as was evident when he pulled away with a smirk on his lips, "what are you making?"
He grinned when he watched your eyes drift back into focus, your body slamming down to reality after a kiss that was so heady but given so casually. 
"A lemon drizzle cake." You replied somewhat breathlessly, which made him chuckle, and you felt his chest rumble on your back.
"My favourite." He said as he returned to his spot behind you and wrapped his arms around your torso, bringing your back flush to his chest as you continued baking. 
"I know, love." You softly spoke as you began to stir the mixture before you. Judging by the smile in your voice, he knew you were thinking of that moment a handful of years ago when you had both accepted the mating bond with a lemon drizzle cake.
It had been your first time to the Court of Nightmares since you had escaped and been made part of the Night Court. You had been secretly dreading it, knowing that your usual skill set as emissary would all fall apart in that place when your eyes would land on your family and those familiar snarling faces. And it had. Everything had gone to shit the moment your family had spotted you beside Rhys' throne and had smelt that mating bond on you. It had started with shouting and had escalated to your family barging their way up to the throne and threatening to gut you for turning into a whore. 
Rhys had pulled rank and ordered everyone to leave, and you had been quickly winnowed to the safety of the townhouse, where everyone had rallied around you and tried to distract you. Rhys and Azriel had gone back to calm the situation and assess the aftermath. You had been cooped up in the arms of Cassain for the evening, a loving and supportive brother figure you had never had before. But deep down, you had wanted only one pair of arms around you to soothe you and remind you that your family do not dictate who you are. 
Everyone had eventually retreated to bed, but you had stayed, needing to see him, knowing he would return at some god-forsaken hour. He had found you then when he winnowed to appear in the living room of the townhouse, curled up on a sofa in front of the fire with a book in your hand. At his appearance, you slowly put the book down to look at him. 
The bond was newly snapped in place, but he could feel your emotions faintly and was so overwhelmed by the fact that you had stayed up for him that all he could think to say was, "Good book?"
He had watched fascinated as your lips curled into a soft smile, the first since the incident so many hours ago. "Couldn't put it down." 
He chuckled lowly but didn't move from his spot as you slipped a bookmark into the page and popped it beside you, swinging your legs off the sofa to sit facing him. 
"Az, I think we need to talk." He watched as you outstretched your hand, gesturing for him to come and sit with him. 
His heart had sunk as he had walked over to you, joining you on the sofa. He knew you needed to talk about the mating bond and how you moved forward—you had been friends for so long, and he had been yearning for you since the first day he met you. And now he was terrified that you were about to reject the bond, reject him, and he was going to lose the woman he loved and the friendship he cherished with you all in one go. 
"Y/N, you need to do the right thing for you - please don't accept something because you feel bad for me. We can work it out. I can perhaps get Rhys to station me in the Illyrian mountains so you can stay here, and I-"
"Respectfully, what the hell are you talking about, Az?" You stared, baffled, at the male before you as he rambled on. He couldn't look at you, and his expression conveyed such sadness.
"The logistics of you rejecting the bond—that's what you want to talk about, isn't it?" A bark of laughter left your lips, shocking him and causing him to snap his head up to look at you in confusion. 
"Oh Az, no honey, that's not what I wanted to talk about," you softly said as you held one of his beautiful, scarred hands in one of yours and brought the other to cup his cheek. You watched, fascinated, as he internally debated whether to lean into your touch, "Stay here a second; I'll be back."
He watched, confused, as you flashed him a warm, comforting smile before dashing off the sofa and disappearing into the hallway outside the living room. The wait may have been seconds, minutes at most, but it felt like hours to Azriel. His heart had stopped dead when you returned, a dish in your hand in which a delicately decorated cake sat atop it. He watched keenly as you walked back to him, smiling sheepishly and nervously, and sat back beside him on the sofa. 
"This is for you. I want to accept the mating bond." Those words, spoken so softly in the dead of night, in a house that had seen so much joy and heartache before, were enough to set Azriel alight. He had no words to describe the feeling that was coursing through him as he looked between you and the cake you held out towards him.
His hands moved on their own accord as he took the dish from you, noticing the sugar icing that had been meticulously drizzled onto the soft sponge and the sweet little decorative flower you had piped into the centre. Just from looking at it, he could tell you had baked this cake and poured every ounce of feeling into it, and he felt himself getting choked up at the thought. 
"Are you sure?" He whispered, and the vulnerable look on that face was enough to break your heart. 
"Yes. I have loved you for years, Az and the snapping of the bond in place made it seem as if the Mother and the Cauldron had finally listened to all those prayers I sent them. I baked this earlier to give it to you after we had returned from a successful meeting at the Court of Nightmares," his lips quirked ever so slightly at the sarcasm that dripped from your voice, "it may not be the moment I intended; but it's still perfect anyway. It's a larger version of those lemon sponges you love from that bakery we found last year. The owner gave me the recipe. I want you, Azriel."
Azriel had given up on finding his mate, resigned to always wondering. When you had crash-landed into his life a handful of years ago, he had silently hoped it would be you, and when he had tripped and fallen head-first in love with you, he had begun to beg that the mating bond would snap one day. So many years of yearning for you, unaware that you felt the same, that you were begging for it to be him as well. So many wasted years. And when the mating bond had finally snapped, when you had returned from a month-long summit at the Day Court and taken one look at him, he had almost fallen to his knees then and there. 
He had finally found you, and you wanted him back. Words would come to him later, spoken against the soft sheets of your bed, in between feverish kisses and in the afterglow of what was to come, so for now, he held your gaze as he lifted the small slice you had cut for him and took a bite. 
"Az, baby. I need to put the cake in the oven." Your words brought him out of the daydream he had been enjoying and back to the present moment. He chuckled and kissed your temple before unwinding from your body and taking a step back so you could move to put the cake tin in your hands and into the oven. 
He leaned back against the counter as he watched you carefully manoeuvre it inside before triumphantly shutting the oven door and turning back to him with a satisfied smile. 
"Come here." He held out his hand, a gesture so similar to the one you had given him all those years ago that a smile danced on both of your faces. You let him pull you against his chest, one of his hands falling to your hips and the other coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently brushing some flour that had somehow made its way to your face.
"Happy 10-year anniversary, love." You whispered into the gentle silence, and the shadowsinger gave you a beautiful smile. 
"Happy 10 year anniversary, sweetheart." He whispered back as he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours in a loving kiss that held 10 years of the most beautiful memories.  
Read Part 2 here!
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illyrianbitch · 2 months
Text
Back to Our Roots
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Pairing: Reader x Azriel
Summary: With the Acheron sisters out of town, you and your family plan for a quiet night in— just like old times.
Warnings: drug use, just fun lil high times tbh. Az being a cute partner, Cassian and Reader being best friend and war strategy planning goals
Word Count: 2.3k
An installment of the Mirthroot Mini-Series
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
As if she had sensed their arrival, Mor squeezed through your half-opened door and shut it swiftly behind her, wearing a sly smile that made Rhysand instantly still. 
“Heyy, guys.”
Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a look before bringing their attention to the blonde in front of them once more, her body angled awkwardly to block the entirety of your doorway.
“Mor,” Rhys said, eyeing her with a scrutinizing gaze, “Why do you look so guilty?”
She held his gaze for a moment, her mouth falling open slightly as she blinked. Then, she casted a glance to her side before giving a small sheepish smile “Because I am?”
Rhysand’s eyes narrowed even more. “Is that a question or an admission?”
Mor’s smile widened as she gave a small shrug. 
“Mor.”
Her eyes were brought to Azriel as he spoke, an expression on his face that mirrored that of Rhysands. His shadows hadn’t warned him of any imminent danger, hadn’t informed him of any threats. Yet Mor stood in front of him with a sense of suspicion he wasn’t able to read. 
She remained quiet, opting to raise a brow at him instead.
“Morrigan.”
Mor's smile faltered. "I had no part in this. It was their idea, I swear," she admitted.
Rhys dipped his chin slightly. "Whose?" 
"Y/n and Cass.”
Azriel had grown tired of the conversation, of the strange stalling Mor was attempting to do. The mention of your name snapped the last threat of his patience, and with a swift and determined movement, he brushed past Mor, his expression unreadable as he entered your home. Instantly, his shadows slithered along the walls and floors, guiding him unerringly toward you.
Mor trailed after him, her steps quickening. "Truly, I didn't realize how... well, you'll see," she called after Azriel, her voice echoing in the hallway.
It had been a long day. Azriel was looking forward to relaxing tonight, to spending time with his family in a way he hadn’t been able to recently, not when there had been so many concerns, so many threats to worry about.  Driven by his eagerness to see you, and a small growing fear that had nestled into his heart at Mor’s welcome, he paid little attention to the subtle noises drifting around him or the faint aroma that began to fill the air. 
It didn’t properly hit him until he began opening the dainty glass doors to your living room. 
As they swung open, Azriel was instantly hit by a powerful scent, his hand flying to his nose reflexively.  Earthy and woody, with a sharp edge that hinted at… skunk?
Azriel blinked.
He recognized this smell. It was one he knew deeply— one he hadn't encountered in what felt like centuries. Blinking rapidly, Azriel squinted to see through the dense cloud that enveloped the room, the air thick and difficult to breathe. With his vision obscured, he could barely make out the shapes on the ground before him. But quickly, through the haze, he discerned your and Cassian's forms, laying leisurely amidst the swirling smoke.
A smile tugged at his lips. 
From behind him, Azriel heard the shuffling of Mor and Rhysand as they entered the room, a strong cough following their entrance. 
Rhysand let out a whistle, walking to stand next to Azriel. “Damn.”
Despite the three new presences in your living room, neither you nor Cassian seemed to notice. The cloudiness of the room, now seemingly thicker than before, suggested to Azriel that you and Cassian were indeed on a completely different level than him and Rhysand– than Mor, as well, from what he could gather. 
You laid on the ground, your hair messily sprawled over your soft rug, eyes closed in bliss, a gentle laughter escaping your lips. Azriel could make out the movements of Cassian’s frame beside you as he mirrored your laughter.
"It's been like this for hours. I thought it would wear off by now," Mor murmured. 
Azriel turned his head to look at her, watching as she walked over to one of your bookshelves. She picked up a small container before turning around.
"I guess it's just... really strong?" Mor offered, her expression marked by furrowed brows and a hint of uncertainty. She offered the container towards Rhys with an extended hand. 
Rhysand grabbed it gently, examining it before giving it a light squeeze, the top popping off with a small sound. He brought it to his nose. Instantly, he recoiled with yet another small cough. 
“Gods, Mor. That is horribly potent.”
Azriel grabbed the container next, bringing it up to smell in the same manner his brother had. Faintly, he felt the cool slick of his shadows as they snaked up his body, a few around his arms, a few curling around his ears in curiosity, attempting to get a better look. The scent tickled his nostrils and he drew back, his shadows mirroring his movements as if the scent had, somehow, also hit them too. Azriel looked up through his brows, casting a quick glance over to where you laid.
“This has rootdust,” Azriel stated, holding up the container for emphasis. “Mor, this is basically all rootdust.”
Mirthroot was a tricky herb to work around. You and Azriel had your fair share of expertise, spending many of your younger years sneaking out into the mountains to smoke together. All of you dabbled, at some point,  with holidays spent at the cabin covered in smoke. You and Az had a habit of collecting as much rootdust as possible, a tradition of making the last smoke of the holiday the strongest one— a grand finish, you used to say. Azriel always loved it. But it had been years, and from what Az could tell, Mor wasn’t as skilled as she once was in recognizing the quality of what she was taking in.
“Oh,” Mor breathed out. “Well. I guess we got a really good deal then, huh?”
Rhysand let out an amused breath. “Are you telling me that Cassian and Y/n have been smoking the most highly concentrated part of mirthroot casually?”
“For hours?” Azriel added.
Mor sheepishly smiled once more, "Like I said– it was their idea," she responded, her tone laced with a hint of amusement.
With a thoughtful hum, Azriel turned away from Mor, his gaze now fixed on you. He made his way towards you, his shadows leaping forward eagerly, swirling around him like excited children. Within seconds, they reached your form, gently dancing around your body in movements that elicited soft giggles from your lips. Your eyes fluttered open slowly, curiosity flickering within them as you lifted your hands to watch the shadows playfully run along your hands.
Azriel watched as the realization dawned on you. With a sudden burst of energy, you sprang up from the ground, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you looked up at him. Cassian's head snapped back in surprise, his own grin widening as he caught sight of his brother. 
"Az!" you exclaimed with a big grin, a sheer joy evident in your voice that made his heart flutter. 
His gaze swept over the coffee table next to you, noting the scattered papers, remnants of ash, and the loose mirthroot nuggets. He let out a laugh at the array of snacks messily spread amongst the herbs, crumbs from what he could only assume were some sort of baked goods— cookies, his shadows informed him. Chocolate chip. He met your eyes again with a grin. 
"Hi, gorgeous," he greeted warmly. 
With a gentle ease, he made a move to sit down next to you, his movements accompanied by the subtle sound of his knees cracking in response. He lowered himself to your rug, leaning his back against the couch as you scrambled to reposition yourself, your movements slow and uncoordinated. Somehow you managed to settle yourself between his legs, pressing against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You craned your head to look up at him.
Azriel's gaze softened as he looked at your face, illuminated by a wide grin that stretched across your lips. Your eyes were narrowed and slightly puffy, a faint blush painted on your cheeks. Still gorgeous, Az thought, always so gorgeous. A shadow brushed over your cheek, moving to push back a stray strand of your hair. 
Cassian’s voice disrupted the moment in a small whine. "Hey, what about me?" 
In unison, both you and Azriel moved your heads to look at him, watching as Cassian’s eyes floated between you two. Just like you, Cassian’s eyelids were puffy and half-lidded as he held your stares.
Azriel let out a small snicker. "Hey,” he said.
“What?” Cassian's expression shifted into a frown. "Am I not gorgeous?" 
You gasped in mock horror, your body pushing up with the force of the sound. "You are so gorgeous!" you exclaimed earnestly.
Cassian seemed content at the answer, a small smile gracing his face. His gaze then shifted to Azriel, and you followed suit, both of you staring at him with eager eyes. The sight itself was more amusing than anything Az had seen recently, two of the most feared members of the Night Court staring at him like two curious animals.
Azriel flicked his eyes between the two of you, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. With a laugh-sigh, he looked at his brother.  "You're so gorgeous," he affirmed, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.
Cassian's gaze lingered on Azriel as he continued. "So gorgeous. If I didn't have her," he gestured towards you, then waved his hand casually, "Nesta would have competition, brother. I mean—"
 "Ah, suck a fat one, Az,” Cassian grumbled, pouting to himself as he leaned against the coffee table. “Can't take anything seriously."
Azriel grinned at the response, pulling you closer to his chest as you laughed, the sound caressing him with a familiar warmth. His gaze was pulled up as Mor and Rhysand approached the rug, both wearing amused smiles on their lips.
"We run late and you decide to have all the fun by yourself?" Rhysand teased, raising the container in his hand.
"Actually," Cassian responded, his voice carrying a hint of excitement, "Y/n and I were discussing some strategies."
Rhysand's amusement only seemed to grow at the comment.  "Strategies?"
Azriel felt your nod against him. 
With a grin, Cassian leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "For, you know, Koschei," he added, emphasizing the last word with a mischievous sloppy wink. Mor snorted at the sight, a laugh falling from her lips. 
Rhys glanced between Mor and Azriel.  "And?"
Cassian's grin widened, "And we solved it."
Rhysand's gaze returned to Azriel, whose eyebrows lifted in surprise, the corners of his lips turned upwards. "You did?"
Cassian leaned back, with a confident nod. "Ohhh yeah. Tell 'em, Y/n," he prompted eagerly.
You shifted into a new position, leaning sideways against Azriel, as you moved your gaze between all of them. Even the movement of your head was slow, sluggish, and Azriel wondered just how well you were able to see all of them considering how closed your eyes were. 
"Koschei is confined to the lake, right?" 
The room went quiet as you continued to move your gaze between your family, silence falling upon the group as they waited for you to continue. When a beat passed, Azriel met your gaze, understanding dawning in his eyes as he realized you were seeking confirmation. "Right, yes," he responded with a nod, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as you grinned at him.
"So,” you paused, the grin spreading across your face, "what if," you continued, your voice tinged with excitement, “we just drain the lake?"
You and Cassian exchanged a look.
“What’s he gonna go without a lake?” Cass emphasized, “Nothing.”
“Exactly. And we get free water. We could make a pool.”
Finishing your sentence with a sound of content, you looked between everyone in the room. Cassian nodded enthusiastically, as if your combined strategy was the strongest plan he’d come up with in centuries. And he was really excited about that damn pool.
There was a sleek silence as your words were processed. 
And then Mor’s reaction came first.
"Oh my Gods," she exclaimed, laughter bubbling up as she covered her mouth in amusement. 
Rhysand and Azriel exchanged a knowing glance before Rhysand let out a bellowing laugh, the sound echoing across the room as he ran his hand down his face.
"That is," he managed to say between laughs, “The best thing I’ve ever heard.”
Azriel looked down at you with a smile that threatened to split his cheeks, small chuckles reverberating through his chest. 
You stared up at him, leaning your head closer to his. "Right?" you chimed in eagerly, seeking validation for your idea. “Right?’
He nodded, unable to resist leaning down to kiss your forehead tenderly. "Genius plan, my love," he praised softly. 
"I know," you replied with a satisfied grin.
With another laugh, Mor walked to her cousin and grabbed the small container from his hand, eliciting a small eyebrow raise in response. 
"For old times' sake," she declared with a grin. With a small groan, she settled down next to Cassian, nudging him to make room. She looked over her shoulder, "Maybe we can brainstorm how it was possible for you to accidentally send a love letter meant for Feyre to Cassian.”
Rhysand’s mouth dropped as he let out a small scoff.
"That happened once!" 
“Wait,” Cassian frowned. "That wasn’t for me?" 
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 
i wrote this while on mirthroot *cough cough* so ignore any typos
p.s i want to make an entire mirthroot series with fun one-shots just cause i luv the idea of the IC just getting time to relax and do silly goofy stuff like recreational drugs (i’m also a stoner so this is my territory 🙏🏻). should i? yes no maybe so (3/9 update: it has been created!! Read the Mirthroot Mini-Series
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daycourtofficial · 2 months
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Your Little Hand’s Wrapped Around My Finger
Summary: Based on this ask - you and Azriel present your new babe to the rest of the inner circle, with a surprise for Cassian.
Author’s note: Cassian is a male who is very aware of his emotions and lets them out
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The inner circle was buzzing with excitement as they sat in your living room.
Your labor had no hold-ups, however it had been long and exhausting, and afterwards Azriel insisted on making you rest before seeing the rest of your family.
They all had been so concerned, but their worries eased when Azriel had sent Rhys a mental message saying:
Everything’s fine. They’re both doing well. Just tired. We’ll let you know when you can come visit.
The two of you had kept the sex of the babe a well-kept secret between you two, wanting to enjoy everyone’s surprise and amazement.
Rhysand had been going out of his mind with worry for his sister, but he knew Azriel would never lie to him about how you were.
Feyre and Rhysand helped you out of bed, her surprisingly strong arms holding you upright as they helped you to the couch. Rhys propped some pillows behind you, sitting on the arm of the couch next to you, and you leaned into his side, having missed him in the past few days. Everyone else began asking their own questions -
How are you?
How’s the babe?
How’s Az?
You try to answer their questions the best you can. “We’re all okay, rattled with nerves and we’re very tired, but we’re all happy. We have a very happy and healthy babe.”
Right on cue your mate comes into the room, your tiny babe bundled in a black blanket littered with stars.
Mor begins cooing and everyone else moves to crowd around, but Cassian sidesteps the crowd and comes over to sit next to you, putting his arm around you. He nuzzles his head on top of your own as he squeezes lightly.
“Proud of you, kid.”
You smile, “Cassian, don’t you want to see the babe?”
He looks at you, his eyes a little glossy with tears. “After Feyre’s uh, after Nyx, and you’re only half-Illyrian, and I was… I was worried I’d lose you.”
You start crying, hormones making it unbearable to see anyone else cry, sobs racking your body as you wrap your arms around Cassian and cry into his shoulder.
Everyone turns to the two of you, and Rhys says, “Cassian couldn’t make it five minutes without making her cry.”
You feel Cassian crying into your shoulder, causing you to sob out, “everything went well - I’m sorry I scared you!”
Cassian pulls away, looking towards the ceiling to dry his eyes. You realize that during yours and Cassian’s sob show everyone got to hold your babe, so you turn to Cassian, urging Az over.
“Cassian, do you want to hold our babe?”
He nods, a smile taking over his face.
Azriel gently places the babe in his brother’s arms, and Cassian can’t stop the tear that leaks out onto the babe’s face.
A head full of onyx hair, tiny eyes that are closed, and a nose that looks just like yours. He moves the blanket a little and peers at the tiny little wings adorning the babe’s back.
“It’s a girl,” you tell him, and Feyre and Mor melt into each other as they both coo, “a girl!”
“What’s her name?” Rhys asks, taking his place on your other side again.
“We wanted to give her a great name. A name to give her strength and to let her know how loved she is.”
You look at Cassian, his eyes fixated on the babe in his arms, “her name’s Cassie.”
Cassian looks over to you, then inhales sharply, “are you sure?” You nod, and Cassian looks back up to the ceiling to keep the tears from falling. He squeezes his namesake, holding her to his chest.
“Cassie,” he says, looking at her. “She looks just like her dad.” His fingers brush her little cheeks, and she reaches up, wrapping a tiny hand around his finger.
He closes his eyes, a few tears falling onto her blanket.
It was no secret how much Cassian loved you and Azriel - he cried several times in the lead up to your mating ceremony, sobbed through the ceremony itself, but somehow pulled himself together enough to give a speech that left everyone else crying.
No one laughs or makes a joke about Cassian’s emotional display. They all knew what this moment meant for him, the male who was practically bouncing off the walls waiting for you two to let him come meet his niece.
Rhysand looks at you, pride in his eyes as he says, “I can’t believe you named her after him - your brother is right here!”
“Well,” you say, looking at Azriel. He nods, letting you tell them, “we have named you and Feyre as her godparents, and I didn’t like the way Rhysanda sounded.”
Everyone laughs, and Rhysand leans over to give you a kiss on your temple, but Cassian doesn’t even pay attention, his eyes on the tiny babe in his arms. She was comically small, nestled into his massive chest.
His thoughts linger on his brother, about the atrocities he faced at such a young age, how Azriel deserved this happiness.
And how, despite all odds, he was able to find it.
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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.
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thisblogisaboutabook · 2 months
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Baby, Mine
Azriel x Reader - Angst/Fluff - One shot
Rhys returns from under the mountain and Azriel’s life is changed forever as a bond snaps with the female his brother brings back with him. After an unexpected pregnancy is revealed, Azriel strives to show his mate just how much she and their child mean to him. Please read warnings below.
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Warnings: discussion of rape and S/A, pregnancy resulting from rape, mentions of trauma, language, mention of pregnancy termination
“We should get up. My stomach’s growling.”
“And I thought it was just the little one chatting with my shadows.” Azriel teased, flushing beneath her gaze as his scarred fingers traced lightly over the growing swell of her abdomen, becoming more apparent by the day. He’d been nervous touching it for the first time, like he’d desecrate that precious life force growing underneath with his hands that had inflicted so much pain. But the way her eyes lit up the first time he touched it, he never wanted to forget the feeling of love and joy radiating into him through that newfound bond. It was beautiful - made him feel worthy of helping raise the beautiful life she was bringing into the world.
Though her stomach growled again, she made no move to get up, and by the way her hands were holding onto him, Azriel knew better than to go retrieve a plate from the House of Wind’s kitchen for her. So he sent a shadow beneath the door to see if Nuala or Cerridwen were there and if they could bring leftovers in, that is if Cassian and Mor hadn’t devoured the entire breakfast already.
“How’s she doing?” Rhys asked into his mind.
“Better than some days but not great, Rhys.”
There was a pause before Rhys’ guilty voice reentered his conscious.
“She’s the most selfless person I know, Az. I’m glad you two have eachother. But if she needs anything, if you need anything, let me know.”
And she was. Selfless in a way that Azriel couldn’t fathom. Selfless in a way that made his gut churn, a way he wanted to roar at the moon and the stars, and anyone who would listen. Selfless when she should have never had to be. She was bright and radiant and kind. The world looked at her and saw ethereal sunshine, walking starlight, unfathomable beauty both inside and out. But there was darkness and pain there too, so buried down deep that only Azriel could feel it in the middle of the night as whimpers disrupted her sleep.
So many nights Rhys would have to come in and cradle her mind, send her soothing thoughts and visions of anything beautiful that could mask the perils that haunted her dreams.
Azriel hated himself for it, the jealousy. He wished he could soothe her in that way but no matter how much love he sent through their bond, that darkness rooted itself so deeply within her that sometimes it took significant power from Rhys to reach it.
As if Rhys wasn’t already fighting his own trauma and waging against the insurmountable guilt he carried after being under the mountain, plus worrying about Feyre in the Spring Court. And that wasn’t to say Y/N was a burden in any way, though she felt she was. It killed Azriel to see both his mate and his brother fighting so much grief and not being able to do anything about it.
She’d have been better suited to be Rhysand’s mate than Azriel’s own by their intertwined traumas, by their ability to put themselves aside for a better world. Azriel, of course, fit into this court of dreamers but she… despite only being here for such a short period of time, she was the biggest dreamer of them all.
Another rumble from her stomach snapped Azriel out of his thoughts, mentally noting to Rhys, “She could use breakfast.”
“I’ll send some for both of you. You need to take care of yourself too.”
Azriel smelled the salt of her tears before he saw the silver lining her eyes. Propping himself up on an elbow, draping a wing over her, he began to ask softly, “Hey-“. Her head immediately shaking and she choked on the word, “No.”
“Baby, I know what you’re thinking and it’s not a burden. He just wanted to know if you needed anything.”
She took a few deep breaths, willing away those tears. “He doesn’t have to check on me. It’s my f-“
“Stop that. Listen to me, I’m always here to listen to you and I know that you’re dealing with complex emotions and trauma that I cannot even begin to fully fathom but this.. it’s not your fault.”
Her eyes welled up further as Azriel continued,
“I don’t want to lecture you or invalidate what you are feeling. Your emotions are justified but… these thoughts will eat you alive, they’re vicious lies that have been conditioned into you, and I can promise you that nobody blames anything on you. This entire family is so fucking grateful to have you as a part of it. In a world of darkness, where you had every right, every reason to bring that darkness with you, you chose light.”
He choked on his words as those tears flowed down her face. “You chose light when it only brought more darkness upon yourself.”
She cut him off. “She’s not darkness.”
Azriel raised an eyebrow. “She?”
And through her tears, he saw the slightest gleam of radiance in her eyes. “I can just feel it. Feel her.”
Azriel pressed a kiss to Y/N’s belly. “Yes, you are absolutely right. She is not darkness - she’s a beacon of light, the brightest star in the sky, perhaps aside from her mother - but the mental load you are carrying, it is dark and it’s heavy. And yes, you would carry darkness with you regardless of this spark of hope” he rubbed her belly in tender circles for emphasis. “But I know that mind of yours. That you are telling yourself that you’re a burden, that you made the wrong choice, when there was no wrong choice.”
At this point, the tears were streaming down her face, his shadows dutifully whisking them away, but only gratitude and love flowed from her.
A knock came on the door. Azriel’s eyes glazed over as Y/N recognized the telltale signs of what was happening. A line creased in his brow before she placed a gentle hand on his arm. “It’s okay, he can come in.”
“You sure, my love? He understands when you need space.”
She nodded. “I know but I think I need to see him today.” Azriel brushed his thumb in soothing ministrations across her abdomen until she pulled her night gown back down to cover herself.
The door creaked open and Rhys padded over to the bed, guilt and adoration limning his features. “Hey, starshine.” She blushed at the term. She hated her own name after Amarantha had called it so many times under the mountain. Rhys had begun calling her Starshine in secret due to her Day Court origins and the fact that he was convinced she’d been more suited for the Night Court.
Rhys had been drawn to her under the mountain, something about her reminding him of his brother. Rhysand could admit that Azriel was the most beautiful of the three brothers, his features seemingly crafted by the gods themselves. But if Azriel’s features were crafted by the gods, Y/N’s were crafted by the Mother herself. Aside from that, she had a quiet presence, though far less stoic and broody than Azriel’s, it was more of a quiet, gentle grace. A grace that Amarantha had tried so hard to shed her of but was never quite successful.
Amarantha, of course, made it her mission to both seek pleasure from her and torment her. When she never fully broke, Amarantha decided that instead of throwing her to the dark corridors she stuffed most lesser fae in, she’d make an excellent play thing. She looked mostly High Fae after all, yet had enhanced sexual appeal due to her nymph ancestry - perfect high and round breasts, long legs, a firm yet supple ass, and an arousing scent - needless to say, Amarantha delighted to add her to her roster of bed chamber accompaniment.
Y/N and Rhys developed a quiet understanding of each other and the roles they were forced to play in the year that she’d been under the mountain before Feyre arrived. They did not grow close enough for Amarantha to become concerned but enough that she knew her play things got along well enough to bring them both into her chambers at the same time.
Rhys would never forget the first time Amarantha had forced he and her into her chambers at the same time. Y/N tried to be strong, and she was. Another aspect of her that reminded him of his brother.
But she began to crack slightly, and Rhys knew Amarantha would make it so much worse for her if she did. So he did the only thing he knew to do and held her mind. He showed her visions of the Night Skies of the Night Court, the spirits of Starfall, the laughter of a family surrounding a table in a beloved restaurant, anything that could help her through it.
As he held her mind, she’d unwittingly sent visions from throughout her twenty-two years of life prior to being captured and brought under the mountain. She was loved deeply by her family who had little more than love to give. Eventually they had been murdered by Amarantha’s cronies at the age of nineteen - she’d been able to escape and live among the High Fae who sneered and objectified her, but offered enough coin to sleep with her to keep a roof over her head.
Rhys had determined that night that if they ever made it out of there alive, he was taking her to Velaris with him. She’d never live like that again.
He even smiled at the thought of introducing her and Azriel when she was ready to meet his family, already picturing his brother’s rose-dusted cheeks in her presence.
“Thank you” Azriel’s low voice withdrew Rhys from his thoughts, taking the plate from his hands.
A familiar scent wafted off of Rhys to Y/N. Pregnancy had heightened her sense of smell substantially.
As she sniffed the air Rhys gave a soft, sad smile at the eye brow she raised at him before asking, “Where is she?”
He shook his head, darkness rolling in waves off of him. “Tamlin locked her in his fucking manor. She had a breakdown.”
Her face drew tight. “That bastard!” Azriel flinched at the rage flowing down the bond. “She must have been terrified.”
“She certainly terrified the servants in his manor. She shrouded herself in darkness and nobody could get through to her.”
“He doesn’t deserve her.”
Rhys nodded. “He doesn’t.”
“You didn’t answer my question, Rhys. Where is she?”
“At the Town House.”
Her eyes blew wide. “Cauldron boil me, is she staying?”
Azriel smiled as he felt her excitement flow into him. A bit of that Day Court sunshine returning to her.
“I don’t know. She knows she can’t tell anyone if she goes back, but…”
“I felt it through the bond, Y/N. I think she’s here to stay.”
Azriel’s shadows agitated at the pause in verbal conversation, chattering back and forth,
“Secrets”
“Secrets”
He rolled his eyes and dismissed them, already knowing there were some things that remained between just Y/N and Rhys. He’d accepted it the very moment he’d shown up after he received word that Rhys was finally home and the bond snapped as soon as he laid eyes upon the radiant female by his side. He knew it snapped for her too when she walked right up to him, touched the hands he tried to hide behind his back, her eyes speaking everything she couldn’t. “I see your scars. I bear them too.” And pressed a kiss to each hand.
“Do you want me to leave? I assume she’s at the Town House but I’m sure she’ll be visiting here too, yes?”
Azriel bristled. No way in hell was Rhys going to make his mate leave, whether this home was his or not, she had a right to be present wherever she wished.
“Easy brother.”
Azriel shook off the feeling. The mating instinct was still so strong that he had a hard time not jumping in to defend her at the thought of any threat, physical or emotional.
“Y/N” Rhys took her hand.
“Don’t bite my head off for holding her hand, either.”
Azriel huffed before firing back to Rhys’ mind “I can’t wait for you to find your mate someday so you can see what it feels like to be so wound up like this.”
Rhys only gave a small, secret smile in return.
Y/N interjected. “Are you two done gossiping or can I know whether I should pack up or not?”
“This is your home just as much as it is my home. You are my family and I want Feyre to meet all of you. Cassian has already barreled through the door of the Town House along with Mor begging to be fed. Feyre went up to nap and recollect herself.”
“Can we have dinner with her… if she wants to?” She asked softly with a mixture of excitement and nervousness to her voice.
Rhys gave a nod. “I was thinking that same thing. Would you be comfortable?”
She nodded before the reality of the situation caught up with her.
“Y/N.” Rhys leaned in, gently tilting her head up to look at him. “I am not ashamed of you. I will never hide you or the life you are selflessly bringing into this Court of Dreamers.” His eyes lined with silver. “And I will always be so proud of the love that you both share. I knew from the moment I met you that my brother would adore you. And the fact that you two are mates? It’s one of the greatest things to come from that shit hole of a mountain. A reminder of the beauty that can prevail, even after the most dreadful of circumstances. I love all three of you.”
Azriel held his mate closely, ensuring she felt just how loved she truly was.
“She kicked for the first time the other day.”
Rhys raised a brow.
Y/N let out a sigh. “Ugh, you two are so skeptical. I really believe that this baby is a girl.”
Rhys eyed the scarred hand protectively placed over her round bump, so many complicated emotions running through him, with love being the strongest.
“Feyre will likely ask questions tonight regarding all of us, our stories. Nobody has to share anything they do not wish to, but you also may share if you are comfortable doing so. I would really like for Feyre to become a member of the Inner Circle-“
Rhys looked to Y/N rolling his eyes at the smirk and waggling eyebrows she gave him.
“Stop that. My point is just that, I would like for her to know all of you. I know she’ll love you all just as I do. Hell, she’ll probably love all of you before she’s ready to even fully tolerate me.”
Azriel let out a chuckle as his mate quipped “Tell me the story of the time she threw a shoe at you. It’s my favorite!”
“You cruel, lovely little thing.” Rhys laughed. “See you both for dinner.”
As Rhys exited them room, Y/N sighed. “You were awfully quiet.”
Az nudged her. “And that surprises you?”
“Okay, quieter than usual.”
Azriel pulled her in close, peppering kisses across her forehead. “I just don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for. You are still healing and now you’ll be facing someone else that was under the mountain with you.”
“She saved us all, Az.” She looked up into his hazel eyes with nothing but genuine adoration. “Without her, I never would have met you. And what kind of existence would that be?”
She began picking at the plate Rhys had brought in. Letting out a moan as the flavors burst on her tongue.
Az couldn’t help the involuntary twitch of his wings at the sound.
She laughed. “Don’t get any ideas until I’m finished with my food.”
Azriel raised his palms. “I’d never get between my pregnant mate and her meal. With the way she’s started moving, she’d likely kick me away anyway.”
She took another bite while nonchalantly commenting, “I thought of a name for her.”
“Oh yeah?” Azriel’s brows raised in anticipation of a potential name for their child.
“Azure. The same blue as the skies. I thought…”
Azriel cut her off, marveling at the name. Whispering more to himself than her. “Blue like the Day Court skies, blue like the skies that I love to take you flying in.”
She flushed. “Yes, exactly. And though it’s a different shade of blue, like your siphons.”
A lone tear escaped his eye. “And,” she continued with a coy smile. “We could call her ‘Az’”
Azriel sat still for a moment. And she would have thought he didn’t like it had it not been the rush of pure shock and awe flowing through the bond.
Suddenly he took her face in his hands, barely giving her time to swallow the bite of bacon she’d just taken, and crashed his lips into hers. And after her lips were swollen and puffy from the heat of his lips, he began pressing kisses all over her belly, whispering between them, “I love you, little Az. I love you more than the skies I fly in. More than my own name. More than any dreamer could dream of being loved. I can’t wait to fly you through the open skies, and show you every shade of blue this beautiful world has to offer. Nothing in this world matters more than you and your mother. I couldn’t be more proud to be your father.”
And he meant it. Every single word. The blood running through the baby growing inside of his mate didn’t need to be his, what mattered was the love flowing within the child and he intended to pour every single ounce of love he had into their baby.
It was Y/N though who broke down at those words. She and Azriel had spent every free moment together since meeting. He’d healed her in ways that she never could have dreamed. Finding her mate changed the time after Under the Mountain from the lonesome trauma reckoning hellhole she’d anticipated and into a time of healing. He listened to her, understood her, let her set the pace in every aspect. And he’d shared his trauma with her, all of it.
The child who had been abused by a wicked stepmother and horrid step-brothers, overlooked by his own father had grown up to be loving, caring, and patient in every way. And now, he was going to be the parent of a child that was not his by conception, choosing to love the child just as he would his very own. A vow he’d sworn in their mating vows and sealed with a bargain.
“What is it, love?” Azriel wiped away her tears.
“Stupid hormones. I just love you so much and I need you to know that you are so much more than I ever could have dreamed of. If I had to, I would go through it all again as long as it led me to you.”
Azriel’s eyes began watering again. “Look at us, Y/N. We’re quite a sight. Whatever you say tonight, just don’t let Cassian know that I’ve gotten so soft.”
Her glassy eyes sparkled as she gave a sweet smile. “I have a feeling that softness has already been there, my love, I just had the privilege of coaxing it out of you.”
He smiled. “Truth Teller personified.”
————————-
“We’re heading up now.” Rhys’ voice cut into Y/N’s mind.
“Are you sure about this, Rhys? Most of them do not know what all happened under the mountain. What if it’s too much for Feyre to take in?”
“She’s my mate, I have to hope that she will love and accept us all in time. It may be a lot to meet us and hear our stories but they’re a part of us, a part of loving us. I’m worried about Cassian scaring her off more than anything.”
“Valid concern. See you soon. Despite the circumstances, I’m so happy she’s here.”
“You know,” Rhys chuckled. “I feel the same way about you, Starshine.”
“You flatter me. Now enjoy your flight with the literal girl of your dreams.”
“She’s glaring daggers at me right now. Pray I make it there alive.”
“Where’d you go?” Az nudged.
Leaning into her mate’s side, embracing the warmth of his arms wrapped around her shoulders she replied, “Rhys and Feyre are on the way.”
“Are you ready for this?” He asked.
“I’m sure you can already feel my nerves down the bond but I appreciate you for asking.” She teased.
Azriel kept his pace slow as they wound through the hallways of the House of Wind toward the dining table. “If you’re not ready…”
She took a steadying breath. “No, he needs to get off on a solid foundation with her. And Cassian, Mor, and Amren have eyed us for a while, they realize that something is off. Plus, I mean, look at this thing.” Her delicate hands found her stomach. “They’re going to figure out that the timelines don’t match up soon enough.”
“Our girl IS growing.” Azriel spoke, not missing the opportunity to feel the life growing within his mate.
She teased, “You’ve referred to the babe as “her” a few times now. Coming around to the idea?”
“I know better than to go against your intuition.”
With that, Y/N gave a wicked grin. “Mother knows best.”
As they approached the dining room, Azriel pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be right by your side.”
She beamed. “And I’ll be by yours too, with whatever you may share tonight…and forever, of course.”
As everyone arrived and gathered at the dining table, Y/N couldn’t help but admire how lovely Feyre and Rhys were together. Though she hated the situation that brought her there, that Tamlin tried to hoard her away in his manor, she couldn’t help but feel joy knowing that she was finally beginning to see the true Rhysand.
The Inner Circle kept up with the typical antics and plenty of laughter filled the space, but the conversation eventually turned more serious as everyone took turns giving Feyre insight into themselves.
Feyre looked to Y/N with curiosity. “You were under the mountain, but Azriel was not?”
Her hands shook as she prepared to share. A warmth covered them as Azriel gave a gentle squeeze, sending waves of that reassurance in abundance. She took a breath.
She began by sharing the background of her family, their deaths, that she’d sold her body to survive afterward, how she’d only been under the mountain for a year before Feyre arrived.
“You didn’t know Azriel before they took you?” Feyre asked. Not harshly, just inquisitively.
Y/N held her head high. Her story was not one to be ashamed of.
“I did not. Rhys was one of the only souls to show me kindness under the mountain. I have nymph ancestry with primarily High Fae features. Amarantha took an interest in me and….”
An unreadable expression covered Rhys’ face. This was his trauma too, but he gave a reassuring nod.
“She began taking me to her chambers. I had no choice. It was warm her bed, or face physical torture until death.”
Feyre flinched along with Rhys. Y/N recognized that they were remembering the human girl Amarantha had tortured to death just before Feyre’s arrival.
“She also, against our hopes, realized that Rhysand and I had an understanding of eachother - serve her or die. Being the lust-driven wretch that she was, she began taking us both to her chambers. There was no room for weakness in there. She wanted us just weak enough to submit to her, but we had to remain strong in every other aspect. The first time she had Rhys and I, together,” she cleared her throat, giving pause before continuing, “Rhys saved me. I began to crack, and he held my mind. I will let Rhys speak on his own trauma and the mental load he carried, but he didn’t hesitate to help me get through it. It was not the last time he had to help me through it.”
The table was completely silent. Heart-wrenching expressions filled each face at the table. Palpable rage could be felt radiating off of Amren, though her face remained straight.
Her voice began cracking. Azriel pulled her close into him. “When you saved us,” She looked to Feyre. “I don’t mean to fawn or gawk over you, but Feyre, you did save us.” Feyre gave an empathetic look, nodding to Y/N to continue. “Rhys brought me back to Velaris because he couldn’t bear for me to return to the life I was living, because this Court of Dreams is made up of individuals who have lived through terrible traumas and, despite every reason to lead bitter lives- have chosen to dream of a better world. To fight for a better world. And he knew a certain Shadowsinger and I would get on quite well. In fact, he’s been a smug bastard ever since over just how well things went between us.”
“When I met him.” She stared lovingly to Azriel who swallowed a lump in his throat. “The bond snapped between us immediately. The same day I was brought here, I met my mate.”
Instinctively she placed her hands on the swell of her abdomen. “Rhys gave Azriel leave to spend time with me, for him to help me through the aftermath of what I’d been through…”
“But two weeks after arriving back, my scent began to shift.” Mor’s brows furrowed in contemplation.
“I became very sick shortly after that. Rhys called in a healer, Madja, who confirmed that I was two and a half months pregnant.”
Cassian audibly gasped and Mor murmured “Oh my gods.”
Azriel kept his composure for the sake of his mate, but this was killing him. His brother and his mate being forced by that fucking witch. “Azriel is not the biological father of this baby. The child was conceived under the forced coupling of Rhysand and I by Amarantha.”
Feyre’s face was a mix of sadness, and rage, and sympathy.
“There were options to terminate the pregnancy. However, due to my Nymph ancestry, such options can have negative, potentially deadly effects. Aside from that, though I never planned to have a child - I couldn’t bear the thought of losing another family member. Rhys, after losing his family, felt the same, which he only expressed after I shared my feelings with him. He was completely supportive of any decision I made.” Feyre looked to Rhys and then back to Y/N, no negative judgement written on those lovely features.
Y/N looked to Azriel with a loving grin “And Azriel- he took me to a priestess that night. We both wanted to accept the bond from the moment we met, the connection was unbelievably strong, I never believed in the power of the bond until I found him. And now because he’s ever the romantic, though I see him already blushing at the mention of it, he wanted to make a vow before the Mother - a vow to love me no matter what choice I made, a vow to love the life within me as his very own child, to love and cherish us both until his last breath.”
She pulled the sleeve off of her shoulder, revealing the intricate tattoo solidifying his vow.
“And Rhys,” She gave a soft smile. “He made a bargain to love and care for this child and to recognize Azriel as its father. We will not hide the parentage from our child. And Rhys, I know, already loves them dearly, but mine and Azriel’s decisions for our baby come first and will be respected as any biological parents would.”
She’d left out the part where Azriel had gone under the mountain to investigate later on and found that Amarantha had begun supplying a fertility tonic instead of birth control to Y/N after the Calanmai that Rhys had gone to the Spring Court and seen Feyre. Though she didn’t know who Rhys saw, she likely suspected he’d developed interest in someone else and become jealous, hoping an accidental pregnancy would either create a rift in any potential relationship or, even worse, that the baby could be used as leverage against him.
The table remained silent until Rhys chimed in. “So my brother is my child’s father. I’m sure stranger things have happened.”
Despite that sadness the Inner Circle felt, Rhysand’s comment elicited smiles. Azriel gave his brother a nod of thanks for breaking the tension while affectionately caressing his mate.
Mor eased the tension further by chiming in “Y/N! You are further along than we realized which means….. we get to go shopping for our newest family member sooner!!!”
Feyre decided soon after that she would like to work with the Court of Dreams.
————————-
Epilogue
Because his mate was always right, Azriel was indeed the father of a beautiful little girl, clever and stubborn like her mother, and the light of his life. Her mother the sun, and she the moon.
He and Rhys had just returned from taking “Baby Azzie” who was now a toddler to get pastries along the Sidra. Azriel returned with his half-asleep daughter in his arms, who perked up upon seeing her baby brother cooing in his bassinet. “Nyxie!!” She yelled, hurrying over to the winged babe. Rhys, however, arrived with numerous shopping bags in his own arms.
Feyre, who had been lounging with her head on Y/N’s shoulder gave the two a big smile. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “All of that better be for Nyx.”
Azriel and Rhys shared a laugh before Rhys spoke. “Well, half of it is, but only because someone batted her little lashes at us repeating ‘Brother, present. Brother, present’ until we took her into what is conveniently her favorite toy store.” Az cut in, “And because my brother is getting soft in his old age” before Rhys could remind Azriel that he was, in fact, the older of the two, Az continued, “Rhys had to buy something for her for every item she picked out for Nyx.”
Y/N groaned. “Cassian literally just bought her five new toys and six new outfits on their last outing.”
The raven-haired toddler with her mother’s nose and radiant skin, Rhys’ smile, and by some gift of the Mother - had Azriel’s golden-flecked hazel eyes, toddled up to Feyre, giving her a big hug. She then turned to her mother, leaning in to whisper something, that came out as quietly as a yell. “I got something for sissy too. Daddy has it in the pocket realm.”
Y/N’s face flushed as Rhys and Feyre gaped. “So much for keeping that a secret for a little longer.”
Feyre squealed leaning in and throwing her arms around Y/N. “I thought that maybe I was getting allergies, your scent hasn’t been as strong but you were glamouring it!”
Rhys pulled Azriel into a long hug, then walked over to Y/N with a wide smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Azriel placed a hand on his chest as he took in the sight of his blended family. It wasn’t what he’d ever expected but, to him, it was everything.
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assassinsblade · 4 months
Text
Forget Me Not | 5
It is your turn to experience guilt and regret, while Azriel takes some time to himself.
WC: 4.4k
Warnings: TW: SA, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts/ideations!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Angst, feelings, we are all sad but we are taking a turn for the better!
a/n: All of the comments and responses to Part 4 were seriously incredible. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday tomorrow if they celebrate!!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6
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Azriel's shadows surrounded him before he could command them to do anything else. Darkness swallowed his vision, his chest, his heart, gods, he was dying wasn't he? Was this what dying felt like?
He felt like he couldn't breathe. Pain was searing through his chest as if a fiery sword was sticking from his ribcage, and he barely felt his knees crashing to the ground underneath him.
He didn't know where he had subconsciously winnowed to until he heard his brother's voice, filled with shock and confusion.
"Az?"
Hands were pushing his shoulders back, trying to get him to unfold from himself, to stop grasping his chest. His chest, his chest, his chest, it burned-
"Feyre, get Madja."
Azriel tried to shake his head, but he was so dizzy he couldn't tell if he made the movement or not. He vaguely heard Feyre's movements shuffle to a halt. Rhys must have stopped her at his attempt to say no.
"What happened?" Rhys questioned, voice strong despite the panic slowly making its way in.
Azriel was sobbing. He didn't know when he had started, but he knew he had broken. His own chokes and cries echoed in Rhys' office, his tears falling onto the cold marble floor beneath their knees. Pain laced across his skin from his fingernails digging into his own flesh, and he felt Rhys trying to pry the grip away.
"Kill me," Azriel sobbed. "Please, kill me. Do something, just make it stop-"
Rhys dove for his brother at the words, pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace did little to help with the overwhelming torture raging within the shadowsinger. He was going to die, he wanted to die.
He had never hated himself more, hated how it felt like his body was going to eat him alive if he took one more breath.
The constant memories shooting behind his eyes like poison: his mother mistreated by the Illyrian men while his hands burned, Mor left naked and alone in that forest with a sign punctured to her womb and him not arriving until hours into her pain, Rhys walking into a trap because he hadn’t seen it and hadn’t stopped it, Gwyn violated and tortured because he hadn’t been aware enough to spoil the plot or get there soon enough, and then you — your bloody body being carried in Cassian’s arms, clothes torn off, having been forgotten by him.
"Don't you dare say that." The male trying to keep him together spoke with such command, but the shadowsinger's pain persisted.
"I can't do this, Rhys. She-"
He couldn't stop crying, he couldn't stop hurting, he felt like he was screaming...
"Feyre," he heard Rhys call distantly. Everything was blurry, everything was awful. His head was pounding, his body was giving up on him, and then he felt delicate hands on his cheeks, a soothing feminine voice, and then nothing.
As darkness swallowed him whole, he saw only the glinting gold swimming inside his chest, reaching like a rope into darkness.
It was quiet for a bit. Safe, surrounded by nothing but shadows so much like his own, and the small golden light flickering inside of him. He would be content to stay there forever. To no longer live as the monster he’d become, to be able to pretend he was nothing, no one, just a fluid existence stretched through space. Like the embodiment of flying through the skies of Velaris, wings splayed wide and air crisp and free all around.
Unfortunately though, Azriel’s peace was short lived. Before he could truly bask in the quiet, he was being pulled out of his mind and back into the present.
Bright light hit his face, shining through the window of his bedroom at the House of Wind. His shadows immediately swarmed the opening, pulling at the curtains until he was once again draped in darkness.
He sighed and sat up, running his hands down his face. He felt overly fatigued, his entire body weighed down with guilt, self-hatred, and the words you had spoken to him.
He did let everyone he knew down. He already knew that, reminded himself of that every single day, but that didn't make it hurt any less coming from your lips.
Rhys, one of the many people he had failed, had not stopped staring at him. Azriel knew his brother was waiting for him to break the silence.
His voice sounded broken to his own ears, weak and cracking even when spoken in a low volume. “I don’t know what to say.”
He truly didn’t. What should he have said? Hey Rhys, thanks for tucking me in after I had a complete breakdown, you can leave now.
“You can start by explaining why you came to my office and begged me to kill you.”
Yeah, Rhys was not happy.
Azriel sighed, feeling his chest pinch at the memories. He wasn't happy either.
You’re no hero. You’re a joke.
Your hands are the ones hurting me.
That’s all you're good for: inflicting damage.
“Azriel.” Rhys interrupted his thoughts.
He swallowed, feeling himself tear up again. He hadn’t cried this much since Rhys went under the mountain.
“She’s my mate,” he finally spoke, voice quiet and chest cracking open at the confession.
Rhys didn’t even blink. Azriel couldn’t meet his gaze though.
“Who?”
Rhys knew who. Based on Azriel’s reaction to the information alone, he knew.
Azriel didn’t answer the question, knowing it was unnecessary. Instead, he gazed at his scarred hands resting in his lap and said, “I went to train, and she was already in there. The bond snapped before she even turned around.”
“Does she know?”
He shook his head, focusing on the sting in his arm. “She wouldn’t have missed if she did.”
He felt Rhys eyeing the slash against his bicep, already weaving itself back together. Then his friend studied the rest of Azriel's body language. The way his shoulders were curved in on himself, the way his fingers traced over the scars on his hands, the ghostly look in the male's hazel eyes despite them glistening with tears.
"What did she say?" Rhys ended up asking after his silent observations.
"Enough."
His brother didn't let Azriel brush him off though. "Whatever she said, she didn't mean it, Az."
Azriel scoffed. "Look into my mind, see how she looked at me, and then you try to tell me she didn't mean it."
"She is angry and grieving, and you are the only person available that she can blame and take it out on. Her anger," Rhys suddenly grabbed Azriel's arm, positioning it so he could nod to the reddened gash, "that anger, is because she cares. She's hurt because she loves you."
Azriel shook his arm out of his friend's grip. "It doesn't matter. I fucked up, and I can't take that back. The damage has been done, Rhys."
"I used to think that too." Violet eyes met his. "Feyre hated me, in case you forgot."
Azriel didn't budge, so Rhys continued. "I know what you're feeling right now. That it'd be alright if she hated you, as long as she's safe. But it still hurts, knowing she thinks poorly of you, and that feeling builds up. But your journey with her is not over. She is a forgiving person, you just need to give her grace while she heals. And you need to give yourself grace, because you're in a painful position too."
He nodded, letting a few tears fall. His palm automatically reached for his chest, rubbing it in an effort to soothe the ache there.
“How did you do it? How did you live with it hurting this bad? After Feyre said…”
Rhys sighed, letting out a small breathy laugh — a genuine one. “It wasn’t easy. I left for those days before Starfall, ignored her letters, sorted out my thoughts. Came to the conclusion that even if Feyre never loved me, I would always love her and I’d be happy to do so. And I have a family who I love dearly, who also loves me.”
The pointed look he gave Azriel was obvious, reminding him that his family was there and worried about him too. They had seen the way he’d turned into a shell of himself, barely sleeping in case you had a nightmare and needed him, barely eating or training, his entire reserve of energy being put into monitoring your safety and wellbeing. And he knew they cared, he really did.
Cassian had been trying to get Azriel back into the swing of training again, wanting him to express some of his heavy emotions in the ring, or at least talk to his brother while sparring and practicing. Instead, Azriel was seclusive and pulled the punches he threw the Illyrian’s way.
Rhys had given Azriel time off from his missions, delegating the work to those under the spymaster to take some weight off of Azriel’s shoulders for a bit. Azriel had at first refused but had given in when Rhys had pointed out that time and attention needed to be focused at home anyway, what with the Illyrians’ growing mistrust of Cassian, Azriel, and himself, the threat of an uprising ever present.
But now with what you had said…
“I think it’d be best if I went away for a bit.” His voice was quiet, resigned, lifeless to his own ears.
“By yourself?” Rhys asked, clearly not liking the idea.
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just — I think some space from her would be good. You even said you needed that when Feyre had hurt you.”
His brother’s violet eyes softened with understanding. “You’re right. I did. But I do think this is a bit more complex. What if you went with Amren or Mor to see Jurian and Lucien? See what they have been up to for a bit? You can leave some of the work to them, but have something to distract you should you need it.”
Azriel was quiet as he considered, but Rhys cut in before he could agree too soon. “But you come back. And you come back within the month.”
Azriel nodded. “Okay,” he relented.
“Okay,” Rhys repeated. His hand clasped Azriel’s shoulder in support, giving his brother a meaningful look. “I know I sound like an asshole, but it will work out. I know it. You two are too special, in general and to each other for this not to work out.”
He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the pain that came with his brother’s words.
He swallowed, composing himself before meeting his friend’s gaze with teary eyes of his own. “Tell Mor I’ll meet her on the border in an hour.”
-------------------------------------
You skipped training the next night, too emotionally drained to make it out of your room. Cassian hadn't come to find you, either. Maybe he had even heard of your argument with Azriel.
Instead of going to the training ring, you tried to read your books (pushing away the reminder that Azriel had gotten them for you), took some long baths, tried to write, and listened to music.
Nothing kept your mind distracted from what you had said to Azriel, though.
The instant relief that had coursed through your veins when the anger had seeped into the air, draining from where it had hardened in your chest and allowing you to feel lighter, changed over the course of the day into something just as volatile.
You felt guilty. So, insanely guilty.
You kept remembering the look on his face when you had mentioned Mor, Rhys, Gwyn, his mother…
The way his hands clenched and fiddled with themselves when you had told him you see them hurting you in your dreams.
The tears that streaked down his cheeks silently as you just kept on coming and coming, attacking and attacking.
And he had let you. He had stood there possibly from shock, guilt, care, and just let you tear into him without any retaliation.
You had never uttered words so cruel to someone.
And you hadn’t even meant them.
Sure, you had been so angry at him. You had felt so hurt and demeaned, that you wanted to do the same to him. But did you actually blame him for what had happened to his friends? Did he hold the responsibility for the entire world in his scarred hands?
Of course not. But you knew that he thought so. And you had used that against him.
Azriel had never meant for you to get hurt. You, on the other hand, had intentionally hurt him.
Did that not make you so much worse?
You cried yourself to sleep that next night, your actions sending you into a downward spiral of shame. Despite taking the tonic Madja had provided you for sleeping, you found yourself at the mercy of your guilt, your mind tormenting you with Azriel’s hurt and your own mistakes.
If you had known this dream would have taken a turn for the worse, creating a scenario that would haunt you even more than the memories of that night, you never would have closed your eyes.
It had started the same as the others: the snow, the alleyway, the blonde-haired male licking up your neck and reaching for your middle. This time though, when you brought the dagger down into the male’s neck, a familiar choking sound echoed into your ear.
Azriel.
The same noise that had escaped his lips after your weaponized words stabbed into him.
Then his hazel eyes met yours, the snow falling from Velaris’ night sky dusting his black hair. And there was so much pain, hurt, and betrayal in his gold and green irises that you felt sick.
“No-” you panicked, reaching out for him as the bright red blood poured down his neck and over your hands.
No, no, no. Not him. How could you have done this? You were hurting him, you were killing him.
Your hands moved quickly, pushing against the wound as sobs loudly slipped past your lips. "Azriel-" you started to say.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes tried to get your attention, but he was already weak, slipping through your hands and falling onto the pavement below.
When the dagger fell from his neck, you saw the charcoal-colored aggressive waves adorning the top of the hilt and nearly collapsed.
You had killed Azriel with his own weapon. The weapon he had lent to help you, you had taken and stabbed him in return. His support, his offer to make amends, his kind-hearted generosity toward you, turned around to tear into his lifeline.
You killed him.
And hurting him did not feel as good as you had imagined in that training ring, both then and now, snow falling onto his tan skin in the alleyway.
As you stared into his empty eyes, somehow still sparkling with the stars of Velaris, you couldn’t help but scream.
Waking from the nightmare was nearly as difficult as wading through it in your sleep. Your ears were ringing, throat sore, and mouth dry. You were so nauseous, your stomach gurgled as if it was warning you its contents could come up at any time.
You didn’t go to the library to read or run yourself another bath in an attempt to relax. Instead, you found yourself throwing the blankets off of yourself, still trying to catch your breath, and making your way hastily to Azriel’s door.
It seemed so similar to that first week after the assault, when you had sought out Cassian before relying on Azriel for a night. Only this time, as you stumbled through the hall, your only thought was on passing Cassian’s door and finding yourself in front of Azriel’s.
You felt so scared, so anxious, and for the first time in months it wasn’t for your own safety.
Your heart pounded in your chest as your toes padded down the cold floor. But it completely stopped when you noticed the difference in the House of Wind.
Azriel’s door, always left cracked with the light on since your first nightmare after the incident, was now closed, with nothing but black on the other side.
You nearly caved into yourself.
Who could blame him? You had been a terrible person. And despite what he had done to you, it was understandable if he never wanted to see or talk to you again.
Just the thought of him being in pain because of you behind that door…
You hesitantly stepped closer, bringing your fist up to the wood.
“I’m sorry,” he had whispered in your dream.
You knocked softly, waiting a few moments before calling out his name. When no response came, you couldn’t help the anxiety that coursed through you, bringing scared tears to your eyes.
Shaking on your toes a bit, you knocked again. Blood flashed across your mind, his lifeless eyes, his look of betrayal.
"Please," you whispered, calling out to him gently.
But you couldn't wait any longer. Your hands slowly twisted the doorknob, your mind not even thinking of the consequences of entering a spymaster's room unsolicited.
You would just see that he was alright and safe, and then you would go back to your room. Plus, his shadows would let him know you were entering, they would warn him of your presence and could push you out if need be.
At this thought, you suddenly noticed the lone shadow that had trailed you for months was no longer at your side. The darkness behind his door swallowed you whole at the realization. He was gone, done, and you along with him.
You spiraled further, pushing into the room and daring to look around.
It was empty. Darkness shaded the clean room, but there was no shadowsinger, no living presence occupying the space.
Was he on a mission? Did he leave without telling anyone?
His choking noise permeated through your mind again, and you found yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, the guilt and regret spreading so far into your gut you were sure it was physically damaging you.
Stumbling over to his bed, you collapsed onto it, first sitting before bringing your knees up to your chest and allowing yourself to seek out his warmth and scent in the duvet and sheets. He was okay, you told yourself. He was always okay.
But the lack of your shadow friend spoke volumes. He was done with you. Done trying to prove himself, done trying to be your friend. And it hurt just as bad now when he actively decided to leave you compared to when he did it unintentionally.
Because despite it all, you did love him. You had just become so hurt and destructive that you ruined yourself further in the process, striking out at him as collateral.
You buried yourself deeper into his covers, not even caring when your tears soaked into his pillow. And maybe you imagined the footsteps you heard outside Azriel’s door, the way Cassian’s door had opened and closed and a presence had hesitated outside of the shadowsinger’s room as if they were listening and contemplating.
You surely imagined Azriel coming home and allowing you to speak with him, and in these hopes you understood how he felt this whole time. The silence, the darkness, the guilt and self-hatred. And the never-ending fear that you had done something you could never repair. That you weren’t good enough or redeemable enough to repair.
The last image that crossed through your mind before your swollen eyes succumbed to sleep was Azriel’s face when he had seen you that first day in the kitchen with Rhys. His nervous and devastated but hopeful expression.
You hated yourself.
-------------------------------------
In the morning, Feyre paid you a visit.
She did not comment on you leaving Azriel’s room, but the look she gave you was observant.
The conversation had started out small with her asking how you were doing, checking in on your training progress, if you had been reading anything good lately, if you had tried the meal Cassian made last night for dinner.
Then it was silent, and she hesitated before steeling herself like the High Lady she was.
“Azriel left the other night. Whatever you had said to him, whatever had happened two nights ago, I’m not sure he deserved it.”
You didn’t want to ask about the state she had seen him in. You didn’t want to know how deep the damage you had dealt went, because if you pictured his hurt expression one more time, you thought you might actually shatter.
You stared down at your hands in disappointment and shame, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying. You weren’t the victim this time around; you didn’t deserve to cry. And your eyes hurt so bad from crying so much.
“I think you two should talk. Your relationship has become so destructive I’m not sure either of you will come out at the end. Talk.” She demanded, her voice firm.
You nodded in agreement, swallowing the lump in your throat down before asking what you had been wondering since last night. “Where did he go?”
“To the mortal lands with Mor. He needed some time.”
Of course. Of course he needed time, and you would give him that. But you needed him to know that you were at least sorry, because you had no idea when he would be ready to return.
“If I were to give you a letter for him, would you make sure he receives it?”
Feyre sighed, thinking about the consequences of the action, before finally softening and nodding. She understood the need to reach out after such an incident, and you noticed her eyes flicker as she doubtlessly thought back to when Rhys left for a bit before Starfall and ignored her own letters.
“Sure. But you must be kind.”
You nodded again, that pang of disappointment and shame flaring to life again in your chest, and you thought of all the things you needed and wanted to say to Azriel.
But when you actually went to put pen to paper later that night, you found yourself second-guessing everything.
You had gone too far in punishing him — for something he was not even completely to blame for — and he probably didn’t want to hear from you. You should let him breathe, give him time to think and unwind without your existence constantly ruining him.
But then you thought of him standing in the training ring, hurt, crying, alone, and your hands were moving.
Azriel, you started the letter. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I think I would regret not sending this to you, not telling you everything you deserve to hear. And I don’t want to regret anything else.
First, I need to apologize. Profusely. You don’t need to forgive me or give me another second of your time, but I am begging you to know and understand that I did not mean a word I said the other night. I could name a thousand reasons why the words went past my lips, but they will never unspeak them. I will forever regret that night, more than any other night in my life.
Please know that even in the times when I am carried away by anger, when I am less than human, less than any of you deserve, I have always admired you. Sometimes I think that made the anger worse, twining together with the care I have for you until it became some kind of warped emotional weapon.
I do think you are a hero. And redeemable and brave and a savior. And I’m sorry for ever trying to put in your mind that you are anything but. You have saved me more times than I could mention in the size of this letter, just in the time I have known you. Please know that.
I have no right to ask, not after everything we have gone through the last few months, but when you are ready, I would really like to sit down and speak with you. About everything.
Maybe we can find a way forward. Or at least a way to exist together without any pain.
You don’t need to respond. I will be here, and I can wait as you’ve waited for me to be ready to talk.
Be safe. If not for me then for yourself and your family.
Then you stopped. Because how were you supposed to sign this off? You pictured his frown at reading the letter, at your words he no longer trusted or felt warmth from. You hated that frown, the sadness you had seen from him so much as of late.
In the meantime, you wrote, I will read the books you left me, continue to purchase those tart pastries from near the Rainbow, and find comfort in your bedroom light remaining on, if not just to remind me of your kindness.
I appreciate your help, even when you are not near. And then you signed your name.
You would wait for his response (or lack of) and for his return. And then you would have the chance to talk. You would be able to hear his own thoughts, emotions, apologies, and curses before letting out your own.
Strength was what you needed until then. The strength to self-reflect on the blame you had placed on him, the words you had thrown around so carelessly. Strength that would get you through the oncoming storm, the marching warriors coming for Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys. The Illyrians wishing to overthrow the high lord and his enforcers, coming to take them down in any way they could.
Their marching was coming, the stomps matching the pounding in your chest.
You’d be strong, and you would wait for him to return. You would hold your ground, dagger at your side and heart hesitantly ready to be displayed.
And maybe, if all went in your favor, you two could finally have that talk.
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itsswritten · 1 month
Text
gone.
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader
Word Count: 2K (It's just a little drabble really)
Warnings: Angst, feelings of not being good enough, unrequited love, rejection, read Az's bonus chapter as this is kind of a different ending to it!
Summary: Sometimes it take's heartbreak to move on.
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You’re not too sure how you found yourself here. Ensnared in a moment you shouldn’t have been a part of. Pressed against the wall, you couldn't escape the damning truth unfolding before you.
Fate, in its cruel irony, had thrust you into the heart of your deepest fear. It seemed as though destiny itself was spelling out the bitter reality—you would never be his, he would never desire you.
The gift box, wrapped in a serene shade of blue, felt like an anchor against your chest, the weight of it crushing against your heart and yet anchoring you to this spot all the same. With trembling hands, you clutched it tightly, your other hand clasped around your mouth in an attempt to contain the tumult of emotions threatening to spill over. You hadn't intended to intrude, only to find Azriel this Solstice and share your heart with him. After years of wrestling with your feelings, you had finally summoned the courage to confess to your best friend, hoping that maybe he might reciprocate.
But it was a futile dream. How foolish you had been to imagine that you would be the one to replace his infatuation with Mor.
No of course it wouldn’t be you, for hundreds of years you hadn’t been able to steer him from his longing of Mor. It had to be another, the lovely Elain Archeron.
The scent of their arousal hung heavy in the air. You should have moved, but you were frozen in place. Your eyes glued on their figures as you watched them draw one another close. It was as if the Gods were forcing you to accept your reality– you would never be good enough for him. 
You swallowed hard, stopping the nauseating sensation rising up your throat. You were losing all control here, completely succumbing to your emotions. You weren’t sure what you would do if you actually saw them kiss.
At the top of the stairs, Rhys suddenly stood, his fury palpable as he observed the scene below. A silent exchange passed between him and his brother, you had known Rhys and Azriel for so long that you were always aware of their mind conversations. However, you never knew what was said. But by Azriels indifference, you could tell it wasn’t good.
Before Rhys winnowed away, his gaze found you. Your figure hidden in the shadows, his expression faltering as his eyes locked with yours, confusion spread across his features and then pain– pain for you.
You hadn’t realised till then, how your salty tears had slipped down your face. Wetting the floor beneath you. How they had revealed how you truly felt, something you thought you’d always kept so well hidden.
And perhaps here in your weakest moment, your own mental shields hadn’t been the strongest. Your anguish spilling over to whoever was able to feel.
With a fierce swipe, you brushed the tears away.
You watched as Azriel left to find Rhys, leaving a bewildered and confused Elain to collect herself before she ran out of the foyer. It was then the emotions overcame you.
You sank down against the wall, the tears flowing freely now, your quiet sobs echoing through the empty corridor. You had been so foolish.
You had seen the signs, noticed the bond growing between Azriel and the middle Archeron sister. Yet, you had dismissed it as nothing more than Azriel's innate kindness, his dedication to helping Elain adjust to Fae life like the rest of you had also supported. It never occurred to you that his actions held some deeper meaning.
And Rhys's fleeting glance had only added to your humiliation. To how stupid you had been. You didn't need his pity or anyone else's. 
You already hated yourself enough for your naivety and foolishness.
The gift box lay abandoned beside you, a painful reminder of your misplaced affection. With trembling hands, you tore off the ribbon and unwrapped it, revealing the carefully chosen present inside. It was a handmade sheath for Azriel’s dagger, Truth Teller. Beautifully made from leather, with six subtle stones set along the top.
Purple, for Rhys. Red for Cassian. Blue for Azriel. Followed by Violet for Amren, Crimson for Mor and Sapphire for you. The original six. His first found-family.
As you traced the stones with trembling fingers, memories of simpler times flooded your mind. The dynamic of your found family had shifted with the arrival of the Archeron sisters, whom you loved dearly. But their presence had irrevocably altered the delicate balance you had once cherished with Azriel and the others. You hadn’t realised how their entry into your life would change so much. 
Maybe it was your fault for thinking it wouldn’t.
~~~
Azriel snarled softly. 
"Snarl all you want." Rhys leaned back in his chair. "But if I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it."  
Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage. 
Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. "Get out. And while you’re at it you owe y/n an apology for making her privy to your foolish actions tonight."  
Azriel faltered a second. You had seen him? He hadn’t even noticed, his shadows had always vanished when in the company of Elain and they hadn’t notified him of your presence. In fact they rarely ever did. You were the one person who his shadows had always seemed to favour.
Fuck.
You had witnessed his reckless behaviour. It was a jarring revelation. You were one of his longest standing friends. There was no doubt in his mind you would be just as livid as Rhys for his actions.
Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house, searching for you.
Finding you in the library, Azriel approached you with a gentle call of your name, his voice filled with remorse. Your back was to him, and he watched you shudder slightly at the vibrations of his voice.
“I’m sorry you were witness to my actions earlier, I’m sure you have-”
“Forget it.”
Azriel was taken aback by your brazenness, the tone in your voice was something he’d never been on the receiving end of before. You moved swiftly in front of him, your back still to him as you placed your book back on the shelf.
“Right.”
Azriel struggled to understand your motives. Were you pretending not to have seen anything to spare his embarrassment, or had Rhys instructed you to keep silent?
“Well I am truly sorry.” He spoke again.
“Why do you keep apologising to me?” your voice wavered for a moment.
“Because you’re my friend, and I’ve implicated you-”
“Friend. Right, of course.” You clung to that word bitterly, you couldn’t help yourself. You had spat it back so venomously. 
Azriel always knew you better than anyone, could tell when something was off and there was clearly something wrong. He stepped forward, touching your wrist to get you to turn at him.
And then he saw.
He saw the pained expression. Tear stained face and red puffy eyes. In all his years of knowing you, he had never seen this look– a look so broken.
Who had hurt you?
“Y/n, what’s wrong?”
You scoffed, pulling your wrist away from his grasp. Despite the hurt simmering within you, a newfound confidence surged through you. After mustering the courage to confess your feelings to Azriel, only to be met with rejection by his actions, you felt a liberating sense of release– you had nothing left to lose.
And quite frankly you just didn’t care anymore.
"It's you," you spat, your words dripping with bitterness as you locked eyes with Azriel, the pain evident in your glassy gaze. "It is you who has caused this."
Azriel's confusion was palpable, his brows furrowed as he struggled to comprehend how he could have hurt you so deeply. He felt his shadows coil around him protectively, but they remained silent, offering no explanation for his transgressions. Whether they didn’t know or they refused to tell him.
Your lips quivered slightly as you drew in a sharp breath, your fists clenching at your sides.. "It's my fault, really," you admitted, your voice tinged with self-blame. "For being so foolish, for ever thinking I–... That I would be good enough."
Azriel’s expression bore confusion, but seeing your pain was breaking something inside of him. He tried to reach for you again, wanting to soothe you but you stepped away from him.
Something started to gnaw on him then, deep in his chest.
"I know I could never compete with Mor, so I never even tried," you continued, your voice trembling with raw emotion. "I hoped maybe with time you’d realise that was never meant to be. Maybe eventually consider me instead…”
You had said it. Admitted your truth. Azriel’s eyes widened in shock. Your confession hung in the air, the weight of your words hitting Azriel like a punch to the gut. For a Spymaster, he had failed miserably at deciphering your true feelings. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, you pressed on, your voice thick with unshed tears.
"And I noticed how you didn’t look at her the same way anymore," you choked out, struggling to maintain composure. "I thought maybe it was because we’d gotten closer. I was so foolish, I realise that now. It wasn’t because of me."
"Wait, Y/n," Azriel interjected, his voice laced with urgency as he stepped forward, his hands gripping your arms firmly.
Azriel's heart sank as your words pierced through him, revealing a truth he had been too blind to see. He had never known, never even considered, because in his eyes, you were one of the most precious people in his life – too precious for him to ever believe he was worthy of.
Your voice quivered with emotion, and Azriel's chest tightened with guilt as he realised the depth of your pain. "I know I'm not as lovely as Elain," you whispered, your words like a dagger to his heart.
"Don't say things like that," Azriel pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "You are so incredible—"
But you cut him off, your words slicing through the air with a finality that left Azriel reeling. You refused to hear anything else from his lips. Those lips that had been so close to kissing Elain. 
He watched helplessly as you moved out of his grasp, your every movement causing that feeling in his chest to grow. You picked something up from the table behind you, turning to face Azriel once more. Somehow forcing a soft sad smile across your lips.
Azriel's throat tightened, his breath catching in his chest as he gazed at you. In that moment, you seemed more fragile than ever, your vulnerability laid bare before him. He had always considered you beautiful, too beautiful for him, too kind, too good. And now, as he stood face to face with the pain he had unknowingly caused you, his heart ached with regret.
"I've held onto these feelings for so long, hoping one day you might feel the same way," you confessed, your voice heavy. "But I think tonight was the Gods' way of telling me it’s time to let go."
Azriel's hands trembled as you pushed the gift box into his palms, "Happy Solstice.” You whispered with a bittersweetness that tore Azriel’s soul. Your words, they felt so final. They felt like a goodbye.
With a shaky breath, Azriel glanced down at the box, opening, his fingers began to trace the intricate design of the sheath adorned with gems that he instantly recognised as symbols of him and his family. But when he looked up again, ready to speak your name in a desperate plea, he found only emptiness.
Finally, his shadows spoke.
Gone.
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Next Part >> (by popular demand I have continued this, mwah)
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a/n: This little drabble came to me last night, I wanted to inflict a little hurt. You are very welcome <3 - Lottie x
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