Azriel’s Girls
Pairing: Azriel x reader | WC: 2.6k | warnings: none
Summary: you overhear a conversation between Azriel and his brothers that has you second guessing your boyfriend’s faithfulness. What will you find when you follow him out one night?
Author’s note: two fics one day! This is crack lmao I wrote this in a blur this afternoon from a silly convo with @milswrites @prythianpages and @ninthcircleofprythian lmao
You and Feyre came into the River House giggling over the amount of paint that covered the both of you. The two of you stop laughing long enough to look at each other, before devolving into fits of giggles once more. One of the boys in the studio had insisted on today’s topic being finger painting, which led to the children essentially dipping their hands into paint before smearing it over all of your clothes.
“Are you sure you don’t want to shower here?” Her voice is soft and kind, a slight rasp to it from talking to the kids all afternoon.
“Thanks Fey, but I’d rather shower at home so I can slip into my pajamas and go to sleep.” You look away from her, as if you could see him through the walls. “Maybe I can even convince Azriel to rub my back. I shouldn't have given some piggy back rides.”
Feyre hums, a soft ‘told you so’ on her tongue, but you give her a pointed look and she keeps it to herself.
“Well, I’m going to go wash up. Good luck finding the boys.”
Her voice floats down the hallway she takes, and you start thinking about where to look - the most obvious place being Rhys’s study. Your feet pad through the halls until you start to hear three loud laughs coming from the cracked study door.
You keep moving towards the source, ready to make your presence known, when you hear Cassian say, “when will you see them again?”
Your boyfriend responds with a soft, “tonight”, eliciting raucous laughter from his brothers. You still, pressing yourself towards the wall, tilting your head in contemplation.
Azriel had told you he had plans tonight, that he was doing something important for Rhys. Had he lied to you?
Cassian’s voice cuts through your train of thoughts, “I’m sure the girls at Rosehall have been missing you.”
Rosehall?
You scrunch your eyebrows, trying to remember if you had ever heard of Rosehall. Was it somewhere in Velaris? Was it a pleasure hall? Who were these girls Cassian spoke of?
Had your sweet Azriel been sneaking around, and his brothers were aware of it? Had they been condoning it?
“I haven’t been able to see them in a while, they’ll be glad for the company.”
“I’m sure they’ll be crawling all over you, brother.”
Their laughs were knives in your heart. Did everyone know? Were you nothing more than a fool to them? Nothing more than a mere joke to these males? Your mind was racing, not paying any mind to the rest of the conversation as you ran down the hall into the kitchens, getting yourself a glass of water. You chugged it, the cool liquid giving your racing thoughts something else to focus on. Like a plan to figure out the truth.
After a few minutes of allowing yourself to seethe and panic, you retraced your steps towards Rhys’s study with your plan in tow: get to Rosehall, find out who these girls are, and yell and scream at Azriel and his brothers for playing you for a fool. As you approach, the males within were now speaking of some sporting event you were not the slightest bit interested in. Azriel’s face brightens as you knock and enter, pushing the door that was slightly ajar. You hate the way your heart picks up a bit at seeing him, at seeing how his face lights up at your presence, your cheeks heating at his attention.
He’s a lying, backstabbing, good for nothing-
“How was painting with Feyre?”
The attention from all three of them pulls you from your thought spiral and you choke on your own spit, coughing a bit. Azriel’s smile turns into a look of concern as he watches you, but Cassian chuckles. “Did you eat the paint by accident?”
Rhysand’s low tone chimes in, “I believe she’s wearing half the paint in Feyre’s studio, and I’m sure my mate’s wearing the other half.”
You chuckle, “uh yeah, Feyre was heading to shower when I left her.”
Rhys dips his head, “that's my cue to leave. BRothers, always a pleasure until better things come along. I’ll see you all later.”
Cassian laughs as Rhys disappears in front of you all, “horny bastard.”
Azriel glares at his brother, “and the pot calls the kettle black.”
Cassian scoffs, flicking his wrist in the air, “pish posh, Azriel. The past is the past.”
“Your past was last week when everytime I came back to the House of Wind for two weeks I got front row seats to your ass.”
“Well, it's our house. And I have a fantastic ass.”
Cassian flexes his thighs, as if Azriel just had to see it to mitigate his annoyance.
“I live there too.”
Cassian shrugs, as if this was a matter of opinion to just accept differences over.
Azriel looks back to you, his eyes making you feel warm, just as they always did. But the warmth was quickly devolving into a ball of anger and sadness, warming your stomach with jealousy and annoyance.
You slap a smile onto your face as you look towards Az, taking in his lazy grin as Cassian slaps him on the back. “I’m off to see Nes. You kids have fun!”
Cassian walks toward the balcony, taking to the skies. Azriel turns toward you, offering his hand so the two of you could embark as well. You accept his hand in yours, a little part of your mind telling you this is the last time you’ll do this. You laugh, pushing the thoughts to the side as you allow Azriel to pick you up, the two of you shooting up into the air.
Azriel flies you back to your apartment, his wings expertly moving over the streets of Velaris. You can’t help the smile on your face as you two fly through the air, watching the people below you until he lands right in front of your home.
You open the door for the both of you, and he follows closely behind. He chuckles at your paint covered clothes, and you fidget slightly, wanting him to make the move to leave.
The clock in your living room chimes, and his gaze moves towards it. “It’s getting late, I have to go. Will you be okay?”
You nod, your arms tightening around yourself. He takes your nervous energy as your hatred for sleeping alone, not wanting to upset you further by making you speak about it.
“How long will you be gone?”
He ponders for a moment, “I should be back tomorrow or the day after.”
He turns toward the door, but you shoot out your hand to grab his wrist. “Can I have one of your shadows? To keep me company? I like having them around.”
One shadow in particular dances at your words, coming from behind Azriel, practically spinning in the air as it immediately rushes to you.
“I hope you like that one because I don’t think it’ll let a different one stay with you.”
You giggle as it weaves through your hair, picking it up into a ponytail before dropping it.
“Perfect, so I’ll have someone to be witness to my antics.”
You giggle, but his face is solemn as he looks at you, something feeling so off about your behavior.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
His words are so soft, and every part of you wants to tell him no, I’m not okay, because you are seeing other women who will be crawling all over you once you leave from here.
Instead you nod, making up an excuse about your eyes being tired from all the painting. He kisses your forehead, his lips soft and light against your skin before pulling away and stepping out of your door before winnowing away.
You count your breath for a few beats before turning to the shadow, “do you know where Rosehall is?”
-
Of all of your terrible ideas over the years, this one was perhaps the worst. You had asked the shadow where Rosehall was, expecting it to be somewhere in Velaris, likely in the parts of the city you were less familiar with. You did not expect the black wisp to wrap around your wrist and begin tugging you away from Velaris very forcefully.
You had started getting nervous when it kept pulling you towards the outskirts, but you were in it now, and you were going to see this ridiculous scheme through to the end.
The shadow had been pulling you for hours it seemed, across landscapes, your feet killing you as you walked, and somewhere several miles away from Velaris, the shadow’s hold loosened on your wrist, opting to move up and down your arm, as if telling you this was your destination.
“Are you sure this is right?”
The shadow danced all around you as if it were confirming your statement. You looked at the gated entrance, the estate so lush and green and not at all what you had expected, it took you by surprise.
This was where he brought women? To do scandalous things and have nights full of debauchery? Was this some beautiful and well-tended pleasure hall? Before you can debate going through the gate, the shadow moves forward, unlatching it and pushing it open for you.
You sigh, thinking to yourself no going back now.
You enter through the gate, preparing yourself to hear the sounds of females giggling, perhaps even moaning, but you are completely taken aback at the chorus of meows you hear, followed by a door opening, and Azriel’s soft voice calling out, “if you’re here for my mother, she has stepped out-”
His voice stops as he takes in the sight of you, the two of you standing before each other across the lush estate. His eyes swim with confusion, and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen him at such a loss for words or the situation before. He continues to look at you, before realizing he’s carrying a tray of various raw meats and fish. He takes no notice of the dozen or so cats circling him, several trying to climb up his legs toward the food he carries.
“You- what are- how did you get here?”
You lift up the shadow that was entwined with your arm before it skitters off to join the other shadows playing games with the cats who weren’t paying attention to Azriel. You try not to wear the confusion on your face, hoping desperately to have some upper hand here.
“Is this Rosehall?”
Azriel sighs, setting down the food as one of the cats lunges to bite at his arm, missing and falling back into the pool of cats at Azriel’s feet.
“Yes.”
You puff up your chest, confusion seeping through your features as you ask, “and where are the females? The girls?”
“The girls?” His voice is incredulous, and you want to roll your eyes at it.
“Yes, the girls. The ones who wish to climb all over you because you haven’t been paying them attention.”
His long legs start to make their way across the front garden, the sea of cats at his feet parting as he makes his way through them. “The girls who climb over me?”
You sigh, exasperation evident, “must you repeat my words? Yes, okay fine. I overheard Cassian speaking of your plans this evening with ‘your girls’. Now why don’t you bring them out and show me to be a fool?”
A deep, belly laugh comes from his mouth, and you are utterly offended.
“Azriel, I came here to put you through the ringer for stepping out on me, and you find it funny?”
He steps forward, trying to put his arms around you but you step away from his embrace. His laughing continues as he asks, “you walked all the way here?”
“Yes.”
You stick out your chin, determined to look strong and confident.
“You walked all the way from Velaris to here, to find out I had cats?”
“Why yes, I did walk all the way here to find out-”
Your words die on your tongue as you look around, not seeing any other females anywhere. You picked up the scent of one, but the scent smelled so much like Azriel, they had to be related in some way.
He watches your nose twitch, separating out all the smells beneath the ever present smell of cat.
“My mother lives here.”
He coughs, the joyous look from his laughter gone, his hands moving behind his back. He rocks on his feet, and you found it quite endearing.
“With my cats.”
“Your cats?”
“Yes, but they’re not really mine. They just show up.”
“Your cats show up? What does that mean?”
“It means, if I spend any time in Illyria the cats seek me out. I’ve already fixed the stray cat problem in Velaris.”
He opens his arms wide.
“They’re all here. Problem solved, I suppose.”
You blink, slightly convinced Rhys had finally broken your mind and made up the most ridiculous scenario he could imagine. You feel one of the cats rub against your legs, and you bend slightly to nuzzle its face. It was pitch black with bright green eyes. It was so little, you couldn’t help but pick it up despite its verbal protests.
“You have cats.”
“Yes, and Rhys and Cassian despise the cats. Rhys says he’s allergic, but I think he’s just too worried about his damn furniture.”
“And Cassian?”
“Cats hate Cassian.”
He says this as if it’s an uncontested fact.
“How can all cats hate one person?”
“He likes to swing them by their tails.”
You nod, “okay, maybe all cats can hate one person.”
As the two of you spoke the shadows had lifted a cat up onto Azriel’s shoulders, where it stood meowing and pawing at the black wisps. You watched in bewilderment, unsure if the shadows were playing pranks or not, when the cat slid from his shoulder into the crook of his elbow, nuzzling into the warmth there.
You cross your arms, heat blooming in your cheeks at your rash decision making. “So there aren’t beautiful females here?”
“There’s one.”
“I knew i- oh. You meant me.”
You deflate once more, letting the adrenaline seep from your body. You were exhausted, well and truly. He nodded before putting the cat down, watching it scamper off into the grass. “I shouldn’t have lied about where I was going. Several dozen cats are just… a lot to spring on someone at once.”
You look to the ground, fingers scratching the ears of the kitten you were holding, “and maybe I got a little…. carried away.”
He quirked an eyebrow, “you picked the wrong shoes to hike out here from Velaris.”
You looked down at your sneakers, chuckling, “uh yeah, I definitely need to soak my feet for a bit.”
“Do you want to come inside?” He watches you hesitantly before asking, “Or I could take you home?”
You look toward the beautiful estate before peering back down at the wiggling kitten in your arms, before deciding that you did want to see Azriel’s mother’s home and to hopefully meet her. “Are you going to tell your mother about how I got here?”
He chuckles, slow and soft, “of course I am. She’d be endlessly amused.”
“Do you have any black felt? I’d love to make this little guy some wings.”
He chuckles, rolling his eyes as he puts an arm around your shoulder, leading you inside. “While you play arts and crafts, I can formally introduce you to all of the other cats.”
Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @ninthcircleofprythian
Azriel taglist: @brieflyclassymortal @thisiskaylin
Thanks for reading ❣️
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@heartfeltletters-written asked me 💥 How do you feel about criticism? and it felt like something that needed its own post, so here goes: the hypocrisy of critics in modern fandoms, an essay.
Criticism. I don't like getting it or giving it when it comes to writing. I struggle to even gently give it to friends, even when they ask me what I think of their work. Writing is such a personal thing that we pour our heart and soul into and like you say, many criticisms aren't necessarily valid. By that I mean, there's a difference between "Amy you use em dashes a lot babe" (I do) and "This story would have been so much better if Remi were a virgin" (actual criticism I have received, lmao).
Unlike traditional authors, we will never make money from this, we do it for the love of it and it's time we will never get back. For some of us, it's time we could be working on our own original manuscripts too. I don't think people who give the second type of criticism are writers, generally. They don't understand the craft and what goes into it. Whenever I post and someone says a chapter was short or they immediately ask when the next one is, and that's all they say, I die inside a little. I try not to take it personally, but it's hard.
Personally, I think fandom behaviour is getting worse and that flows over into our comment sections and tumblr asks. I have a whole other dissertation on this that we’ll call ‘the slow death of fandom as we know it: an essay’, but that’s perhaps for another post. I don’t know how welcomed that commentary would be.
You said the word ‘entitled’ in your original ask and I think that’s spot on. People have become more entitled in general and downright rude (which is not restricted to online spaces, by the way). I write for ACOTAR, but you’ve never seen me discuss it here because no matter what you say in that regard, you can’t win. Someone will always attack you and I do mean attack. Even in regards to Fourth Wing, I don't talk about my opinions a lot outside of my own little bubble of friends and readers.
And that's the kicker to this whole conversation, really. If I were to criticise Iron Flame/RY everyone would jump down my throat (as has happened on other platforms), even though I'd never say it to her face. Do I stand by my opinions? Absolutely. But it would be rude to tell her them, unless asked. I’m not allowed to (validly) criticise certain elements of her story, a published novel, without being attacked for it, but those same people are fine criticising my work directly to me. Hypocrisy at its finest.
There’s a new influx of people to fandom spaces who are completely unwilling to integrate and completely unwilling to be kind. You mentioned those who criticised your work could have saved themselves the trouble and read the tags, but the thing is: they don’t want to. They can’t be bothered to take five seconds and figure out how they work, to curate their own experience, because that’s what half these people are like. They want an algorithm to do it for them, gods help us.
For me, personally, I'm my biggest critic. I also have raging generalised anxiety, so just posting on the internet is enough to send me spiralling (seriously, I feel sick just typing this out). It's very, very out of my comfort zone and I've been very, very lucky so far to have cultivated the readership I have, full of very like-minded people. Perhaps due to some of the darker content matter. But the second I get harshly worded comments, I get upset.
I don't say that to elicit sympathy, it's just a fact. I get upset about it the same way I would if you were standing in front of me saying it to my face, and for someone with depression and anxiety, that lingers. I'm getting better at laughing at them, but it's like when someone tells you they don't like you and your mum says "just ignore them"—not that easy, right?
So yeah, I don't mind if you want to tell me I use a lot of em dashes, or that I've used a word incorrectly in context, but I don't need to hear how much you hate original character fic when you could just use your last remaining braincell the back button and continue on with your day. Just be kind, is all I'm saying.
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