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azrielsmommy · 4 months

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Dark Paradise (Part 2)

Pairing: Azriel x Fem! Reader

Summary: Never in the existence of Prythian had there been a rightful heir to two courts, much less a female, but there you are, in the flesh. With war upon the lands, and questionable family dynamics, a certain shadowsinger takes it upon himself to make your life just a little bit more interesting.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: sexual themes, mentions of assault (not towards reader)

a/n: Hey y'all just an fyi this is set right after the end of a court of mist and fury, like where Hybern sends Feyre back to the spring court with Tamlin after the failed attempt of destroying the cauldron, and she's now like plotting an escape. But Prythian is still like at war with Hybern. So shits going down, but she still hasn't made her way back to Rhys and the night court yet.

Cold sweat slid down your body, forcing you to readjust your grip on the broadswords, one in each hand. Licking your dry lips, the saltiness from the sweat coated your tongue. As you twirls the swords, their flared tips catch the suns rays. You huff out a breathe as you keep your eyes locked on your swordmaster.

He has trained you since you were a mere child, claiming that both you and your brother required proper combat training, rather than rotting away at a desk learning about the lords and ladies of Prythian. Over the years you had mastered a variety of weapons, swords, spears, bows, the list just goes on.

Yet you found yourself to be pushed just a bit more harder than your brother, and you wondered for many years why that was. How come Neo had it easier than me, while I was left to endure more? Learn to fight against harsher odds. The swordmaster never answered any of the questions, he didn't have to.

When you killed your first male, that's when you finally understood why. Understood how much physically stronger the average male is compared to a female. Understood that being a female, no matter the the social status was dangerous, you could be nobility or a librarian, males stop at nothing. And in that moment, drenched in blood, you vowed to never let yourself feel weak ever again.

But here you are, panting as you watch the swordmaster stand seemingly unphased. He stands tall, chin held high with unwavering confidence. It pisses you off. Holding a wooden staff, tip coated in metal, sharpened neatly to a jagged point, he gives it a quick lookover.

"Old man," you twist your blades around, getting a proper grip on them hoping the sweat pooling in your palms wouldn't affect the grip on the weathered hilts.

He smiles at that before lunging at you, swiftly swinging his staff down in a wide arch, you managed to avoid the metal tip by rolling out of it's path. Seamlessly getting up on your feet once more, you waste no time in returning the favour as you released a flurry of attacks, swinging your swords in such fervor even he had some difficulty blocking and dodging.

You must've lost track of time as you sparred, the midday sun beginning to set, bathing the sparring ring in pink and orange hues. Exchanging blows back and forth, neither of you sparing each other any leniency. Just as you were to deliver a heavy blow, the sound of your father voice echoed throughout the room.

"Y/n my dear, that should be enough fighting for today, don't you think?" Barely having enough time, you stop your arm mid-motion, gritting your teeth at the abruptness of the action. Blowing a loose piece of hair that had slipped out of your ponytail from your face, you spin around to face your father. "I suppose so." Your words uneven from your panting.

"As much as I relish in seeing you fight with the strength of a thousand suns," he teases as he playfully pushes against your forehead, causing your face to scrunch as you stumble a few steps back. "I'm off to visit the Summer Court." You raise an eyebrow as you stare at him, waiting for him to continue.

"The loss of alliance with that idiotic beast Tamlin, I've decided to gain the support of the Summer Court before Hybern can wrap his filthy hands around them," Helion reaches a patch of sunlight and outstretches his hands towards the light. The warm rays caressing his tan skin in glimmering beauty. "So to not waste time, you will be meeting with the High Lord of the Night Court." He rolls his neck back, enjoying the warm touch of the sun.

You swerve your head around, searching for your swordmaster, taken aback at how openly your father is discussing sensitive information, but he's nowhere to be seen. You snort, surprised you didn't hear his old bones squeaking as he left.

You walk over to the water station by where your father stands and pour yourself a cup of once ice cold water, but now room temperature due to the blistering heat. "When does he arrive?" You take a swig of water, soothing your dry throat as it slides down. "Tonight."

It takes all of your willpower to not spit out the water. Tonight?! What does he mean tonight, you haven't prepared whatsoever. "How soon is 'tonight'?" You ask wiping away excess water from your mouth.

"Eh, in an hour give or take." He nonchalantly responds with the flick of his hand. Without even a second thought you burst out of the sparring ring and run to your room. You clash into many employees, throwing several 'sorry's' over your shoulder as you sprint down the halls. Finally you make it to your room, drenched in sweat, eyes immediately fly to the bath. Practically ripping your clothes off, you wash yourself, scrubbing your skin with lavender milk soap until there was no chance for any remaining grime to be left.

Letting your hair fall in soft waves, you wear a white top, held up by one shoulder, dipping down to slightly show off your cleavage, wearing a matching white skirt, a slit in it's side to show off your leg. Finishing your outfit you don your neck and fingers with intricate gold jewelry that swirl and loop in all sorts of patterns.

Taking a final look in the mirror you place a gold crown on your head, the small spikes protruding out of your head, the sun reflecting off of the tiny gems in the crown. Taking a couple of deep breaths you waltz your way to the throne room, playing with the rings on your fingers as you anticipate your meeting with the High Lord.

As you enter the throne room and approach your seat, a fleeting thought slips past your mind. Wouldn't it be funny if that man from your dreams accompanied Rhysand here, tonight. You snort to yourself as you ungracefully take a seat in the middle throne.

But for now you wait.

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

The ticking of the clock was driving you mad, it felt as though years had gone by, but reality crushingly sunk in when you checked the clock, and only mere minutes had passed by. You had taken it upon yourself to cure your boredom, passing the time by with checking how many cartwheels you could do in a row without throwing up. Which ended up being 57, a new record!

You had even tried to pick up a new skill by attempting to juggle the rings from your fingers, albeit you weren't very good. Loosing one of them as it ended up in some unseen corner. Now here you sit waiting, with a sour expression on your face, and hair in slight disarray.

Before you could even begin to think of abandoning this meeting, the menacingly large white doors begin to open, groaning as they grated against the floor. A male strolls into your view, yet you can't quite make out his face clearly, the sun doing little to illuminate the darkness that surrounds him. It's as if he's made of the very night sky, soaking up that onyx beauty and releasing it with each breath. The heavy thrum of his power reaches you before he does, it takes you aback, having never felt such raw power. Quickly you send back waves of your own powers, both sun and fire emitting from your very being. If he wants to have a pissing contest then so be it.

He stops before the dais, now fully visible as the shadows dissipate in the light, you catch the look in his eyes immediately, those violet hues capturing you, an amused look swirling in them. Besides his eyes, his beauty was striking, you're certain that he's had many lovers in his lifetime, without a doubt. Yup, that's definitely Rhysand.

Rhysand slyly spoke, voice like a cold drink on a hot summer day, smoothly, enticingly. "You aren't Helion."

"Really, and what makes you say that?" Sarcasm dripped from your voice as you propped your chin on a hand.

"You're much to young to be a...high lady." Rhysand carefully crafts his words, but his eyes speak his true thoughts. "My mind is well beyond my years Rhysand," flicking a hand in the air dismissingly "besides am I not just as capable as my father? Or do you wish to speak to a male rather than a female on such matters?" Raising a brow at him.

Slowly but surely a cheeky grin finds a way onto his face, as he raises his hand towards you. "Not at all, I actually find that I prefer you instead of your overzealous father, quite the lovely change of pace really."

A hum of approval leaves your throat after digesting his words, and the insinuation behind them. You begin to descend down the stairs to meet him, eye to eye, on common ground. Yet try as you might, you can't deny that view, having the most powerful High Lord of Prythian by your feet, it's a rare sight. You're feet land on the floor of the throne room, finally being able to see Rhysand up close. Just as you were about to suggest moving your conversation to one of the study rooms a cluster of shadows spiraled together behind him, forming a portal of sorts as a male steps out into view. Your mind short-circuits as you realize who stands before you, clad in swarming shadows.

It's the man from your dreams. Well you're certainly not laughing, as you recall the silly thoughts you had earlier, thinking about what ifs. Instead there you stand, eyes large like saucers, your mouth probably would've been opening and closing like a fish if you hadn't controlled yourself.

There he stands in all his glory, devastatingly beautiful, just one look at his face makes you want to dance. The planes of his face are elegant and chiseled, strong eyebrows furrowed as he stares back at you, seemingly having his own mixed thoughts. His dark hair falls gracefully over his face, curling away as a result from the heat, some strands sticking to his sweat slicked skin. His eyes are nothing like you've ever seen before. Not just green and brown, no. They are breathtaking, shinning brighter than all the stars combined, the calculated coldness at the center drew you in, yet they teem with emotion. His sparkling eyes are irresistibly charming, your skin growing hot wherever he glanced, feeling as if you were bathed in sunlight.

He was clad in battle leathers, leaving nothing to the imagination as they clung to his body so desperately you thought that they would pop just right off if he breathed too deeply. You completely ignored Rhysand as he spoke to you both, bouncing between waving his hand in front of your faces and loudly speaking to you. You paid him no attention as you watched the man before you, studying the way his eyes roved over every inch of your face.

You shoot out a hand towards him, voice coming out strained, "I'm y/n." You watch as his eyes flicker to your outstretched hand, softly he places his hand in yours. It's callused, rough skin squeezes yours as he shakes your hand ever so gently, like he's afraid that if he grips too harshly you'll shatter like glass. The azure siphon rings cool against your heated skin.

"Azriel." His voice rich and sweet like honey, sending a chill down your spine. He holds on for a little longer before dropping his grip, hand returning to his side. Realizing quickly that you've been ignoring the reason of this meeting you quickly clear your throat before turning to face Rhysand, "Where are my manners, I'm y/n, heir to Autumn and Day Court, anyways enough of the overbearing pleasantries, I'm sure you'd be more comfortable in one of our study rooms." Ushering the two of them out you lead the group towards the nearest study room, as you walk you feel Azriel's eyes burning into the back of your head, it takes all of your willpower to not look behind you and meet those intense eyes.

You barely register the sound of the slap followed with a pained grunt as you lose yourself in your thoughts. This time you look back over your shoulder. You're met with a rather strange scene, Rhysand's clutching his chest as he directs Azriel with a shit-eating grin, the latter remains unphased as he ignores Rhysands pointed looks.

You finally arrive to the study room, closing the doors as the three of you enter. You gesture to the two cream sofa chairs that sit across the matching sofa, a coffee table separating you from them. Taking your seat on the sofa, you use your magic to summon refreshments to the table. You watch carefully as Rhysand and Azriel settle into their seats before Rhysand finally speaks.

"Hybern's attacking Prythian, but I'm sure you already knew that," you nod as sip at your water, "we need as many alliances as we can get, without it Prythian will succumb to defeat, cities and fae of all kind will be pillaged and destroyed. I refuse to stand by and watch as everything we have built become nothing but dust, not after her." His voice laced with pure disgust as he sneered. You knew about the stories that were whispered about him and Amarantha, how he had to please her, you felt his pain and sorrow, making the decision to stay silent you urged him on.

"Helion already agreed to unify with us, but we are spread thin, not enough agreements being made, we came to ask Helion to reach out to other courts and see their stances, but we seem to have missed him." Setting down your glass you catch Azriel, from your peripheral, staring at your fingers, fixating onto your rings.

"Summer Court." You quickly respond as you lounge back into your seat. Rhysand gives you a confused look. "He's in the Summer Court smoothing things over, which I recall was your doing." You smirk at him, the High Lord sending you back a comical look, not too amused by your slight jab at his all too recent activities in the Summer Court.

"Well isn't he just a sweetheart," you chuckle at his comment, "since your father is being sooo helpful with the Summer Court, maybe you can too." "How so?" You question.

"Go to the Autumn Court." Your heart drops to your stomach. You haven't been there in over a century, just the idea of entering that cursed land and seeing that swine Beron along with your treacherous half-siblings sends your head spinning in all directions.

"I have no business there, how do you think Beron will take it if his wife's living proof of adultery comes back after decades? It will raise all hell." You seethe through gritted teeth, body tensing up at the image of Berons face.

"If I had anyone else to turn to for this matter, I would, but we have to know whether we have Autumn Court's support or not, and quickly." You huff, not only in annoyance at having to visit your other "home" but also because Rhys's right. We are running on short time, not much wiggle room left. "Fine." So you oblige, agree to attempt to make a pact with the Autumn Court, or at least you finally get to visit your mother after all these years.

Rhys tells you to pack your belongings as you will be staying in the House of Wind, with the rest of his Inner Circle for the remainder of the war. Claiming it's more convenient for you to be close, he winked before winnowing back to the Night Court, leaving you and Azriel alone to get ready to leave.

As you gather your belongings in your room, bringing what you thought was necessary, along with your twin blades, you feel cool whisps by your ankles. You look down and see that some of Azriel shadows are slinking around your legs, some making it up to your waist as they circle playfully.

"Sorry they sometimes don't listen to me." Azriel rumbles from behind you, as he watches you from the door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. Eyebrows pulled together in annoyance at the rare un-behaved nature of his shadows.

You giggle at the chilly feeling of them sliding along your skin, "It's alright really, I think they're quite adorable." You throw a quick smile behind you, showing how easily entertained you are by the shadows.

They continue to swirl around you, even as you finally finish packing the last piece of clothing you deemed absolutely necessary. The sound of heavy footsteps behind you draw your attention towards Azriel. He stops mere centimeters from you, so close you could see freckles that dotted his skin that are easily missed if you don't pay attention. Your breath hitches as he grabs your hand, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out your ring that you lost earlier this evening. "How did you find that?" You question, your voice coming out just above a whisper.

He ever so carefully slides the ring onto your index finger, it slides on smoothly, but he holds your hand for just a bit longer, almost like he yearns for it. "My shadows have an eye for shiny, pretty things, they bring them to me." His voice low, making your stomach do somersaults as he gently lowers your hand, before making his way over to your bags. Silently letting out a shuddered breath you pick up your twin swords and securely strap them onto your back.

You stick out your hand, preparing yourself him to winnow the both of you to the House of Wind, but his hand doesn't meet yours. Glancing into his direction you open your mouth to ask what was wrong, but were immediately met with a jacket flying towards your head. Yelping you just manage to catch it before it smacks you square in the head.

"You'll freeze if you walk around the streets dressed like that." He gestures to your outfit, the thin material of the skirt wouldn't even stand a chance at keeping you even remotely warm. Rolling your eyes you slip the large jacket on, the material engulfing you in cocoon of heat. You catch a whiff of remnant notes cedar and lavender from the jacket. Wrapping yourself up tightly you stretch your hand out. "Thank you." You gently smile, he nods back and accepts your hand, gripping it softly he begins to winnow you to the House of Wind.

Darkness surrounds you, as wind rushes around you, blowing your hair around. As the darkness dissipates, and light filters through the remaining shadows you squint your eyes to get a better view of the city.

There you stand, in Velaris, the city of starlight.

tag list: @dr4g0ngirl @tothestarsandwhateverend

#fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #rhys acotar #acotar #rhysand #azris fanfiction

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daevastanner · 2 years

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If you are ever interested I would LOVE to see a fic or one shot or headcannon or anything that explores the idea you put on your tiktok of Azriel never shutting up when talking to Gwyn. It’s so cute it makes me want to cry 😭

Like he’s always been so stoic and he’s finally found this person he can let go with and just let everything he usually keeps to himself out

Your wish is my command, crispiest potato chip:

Talkative Azriel Headcanons:

So "Talkative Azriel" actually makes his family sus

As he starts to fall harder and harder for Gwyn, he gets more and more chatty. He makes more jokes. He's lighter than air.

Then one day, Rhys announces he's throwing an Autumn Equinox party at the river house during a family dinner. Nesta opens her mouth to ask if Gwyn and Emerie can come, but Azriel cuts her off...

"Gwyn was just telling me about rituals associated with reaping good fortune for the Autumn Equinox. We should invite her."

The whole table is silent, because as many times as they've heard Azriel mention Gwyn, there's something different about this time. This time there's something... hopeful in his voice.

Rhys can sense Azriel growing a little uncomfortable in the quiet, so he quickly chimes in "Sure. Bring her." Then conversation starts back up.

The night of the party, Azriel is the hottest gossip circulating (unbeknownst to him of course).

Because since he arrived with Gwyn, he hasn't left her side.

And sweet fuck, he hasn't shut up.

To Nesta, Cassian, and Emerie this is nothing so new, but they've never seen him act like this outside of the training ring with Gwyn. Tonight he is openly, publicly, in front of everyone, being sociable with her.

No one says it aloud but everyone is thinking it... They look like a couple.

Rhys even goes so far as to think: They look good together.

And Feyre is quietly startled because she's never seen Azriel smile this broadly or laugh this much.

As more people show up to the party (people who attend Feyre's studio, business owners who Rhys frequently patronizes, friend's of Mor, etc) Azriel is tugging Gwyn from person to person. Introducing her.

"Gwyn, this is Delia is the lead singer at the Astra Theater. Delia, Gwyn has a lovely voice. She's actually self-taught."

And Gwyn flushes, saying "Oh, I'm alright. I just like doing--"

Azriel interrupts her with a flat look, "She's being modest, Delia. Truly, she's incredible. You should hear her soprano..."

When guests finally start to filter out and only the inner circle remains, Cassian seeks out Azriel but finds him occupied. He and Gwyn are huddled in the river house study, sharing a bottle of wine. They sit by the fire.

And Azriel is talking up a storm. Talking about anything and everything and Cassian observes silently, a small smile playing on his lips.

At one point he makes a joke and Gwyn snorts wine out of her nose, choking and setting down the bottle. Azriel laughs, a full bodied sound that makes Cassian's brows shoot up.

It's such a loud laugh, that Cassian is soon joined by Nesta. And Emerie. And Mor. And Elain. And Rhys. And Feyre with Nyx on her hip.

They all stand outside, holding their breath and listening to Azriel tell jokes. They listen to Azriel tease Gwyn and interject when she tells him stories. He asks her an endless amount of questions.

Then Nyx sneezes and everyone freezes, ready to be caught. They wait for Azriel to come storming over and shoo them away.

But to their surprise... the talking doesn't stop. Azriel and Gwyn continue as though nothing has happened.

It comes as a surprise to no one when a month later, they show up to the river house holding hands.

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #elucien #gwynriel headcanons #my asks

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