#amren x reader angst

[shadowdaddies]

I keep unintentionally making OC's with you... I'm craving more language barrier reader x Amren... Maybe the reader knows that some of her people are trying to sabotage the IC and attack them and is trying to tell Amren with what little Prythian she knows but can't get it across and Amren and crew get attacked but Amren and reader kick ass? And then care for their wounds together with soft kisses and whispered conversations? And the reader plays with Amrens hair when they lay down for the night?

I need Amren carnally

you DO and I LOVE it💜 your OCs are so much fun, with great stories. I'm honored you ask me to write them

More Than Words

Amren x Reader

A/N: this can be read separately or as a part 2 to the smutty Foreign Tongues

Warnings: mentions of blood/battle

Sweat dripped from your brow, blurring your vision as you sprinted as hard as you could towards the River House in search of Amren. Heart pumping, your limbs grew tired from how far you’d ran, but you persevered, knowing that you were already on borrowed time.

The camps of soldiers that Vallahan had sent to aid Prythian remained stationed in the Western border of the Night Court, their naval forces ready to combat Hybern when the time arose. 

~~~

You’d accompanied Cassian to meet with General Ildrec regarding strategy, the Illyrian general escorting you through the camps when you overheard a conversation that stopped you in your tracks. 

Cassian picked up on your worry instantly, cautious hazel eyes assessing you as you looked to the tent where the voices were sounding from. Your Prythian had improved since your last trip to the Continent - thanks to practice with Amren - but you didn’t know how to explain what you were hearing to Cassian without arousing suspicion from nearby Vallahans. 

“I stay here,” you pointed to the ground. Nodding at Cassian, you tried to give him an encouraging smile. “I meet you back in town.” 

You’d kept the existence of Velaris a secret from your country so far, using vague terms so as not to alert anyone of your location. Cassian’s face tightened with apprehension, but he nodded and took to the skies to fly home. 

Keeping your footsteps light, you crept slowly towards the voices you’d heard speaking, listening for confirmation of the keywords you thought you had heard moments before. Gruff male voices were muffled through their hushed tones and the thick hide of the tent, but you still understood the basics of what they were communicating. A mutiny.

Somehow, Vallahan soldiers who were against the alliance had become aware of Velaris, apparently staging a mutiny to attack the city. Horror struck, and you turned to sprint out of the camp, winnowing as close as you could to the city’s wards before running on foot.

You bounded over the hill, nearly stumbling over aching feet as Amren rushed out of the River House, silver eyes wide with fear. She ran to meet you halfway, catching your arms before you could fully collapse to the ground in front of her.

You hadn’t even caught your breath before Azriel, Rhys, and Mor appeared, each of them staring at you with worry. 

“My people...” you gasped, forcing air into your burning lungs. “Come to Velaris. Not much, but...” your lip wobbled, guilt coursing through you at the mere possibility that you had brought these traitors to your allies. “They will hurt.”

“Who?” Amren pressed, her hands moving to cup your cheeks. “They hurt you?”

Your heart twisted at her words, the concern she felt for you, and the misunderstanding that could be your downfall. “No,” you choked out, pointing a finger towards the city at the bottom of the hill. “They hurt Velaris.”

As if on cue, power rippled through the air, Rhys’s own dark magic responding in kind. “They are here,” he growled, disappearing with the Shadowsinger without another word. 

You knew their tactics, where your people would attack. You looked frantically to Mor, who spoke the most of your language of anyone, desperate to explain. Vallahans would have a small group at the entry point where Rhys and Azriel were headed, sending the majority of their group to the Night Court’s most vulnerable point, meaning they would be here at the River House within moments.

You begged her in broken Prythian, explaining that you needed weapons against the incoming attack. Mor understood just enough to winnow away and back, arming herself, Amren, and you just in time for the Vallahan rebels to arrive.

Upwards of forty males and females surrounded you, each of them prepared for battle and not hesistating before they charged. Metal clanged as swords collided, flashes of red splattering your vision as you cut your way through the onslaught. You whirled to see Mor catching her breath, Amren taking down the last of the foot soldiers.

Breathing a sigh of relief, you scanned the grassy lawn to find dozens of your fallen people as you moved towards Amren. The three of you had taken down a small army with a planned attack, and you were certain that Rhys and Azriel could handle those at the wards.

“Amren,” you called out, a tentative smile blooming across your face at her, the beautiful female wiping blood from her brow as she smirked at you. As she turned, you noticed the archer sitting in the trees, his bow cocked and aimed right at Amren. 

Everything happened in slow motion, the arrow flying through the air with a low whistle, Amren’s shocked face as you ran towards her, pushing her to the ground as the arrow lodged itself deep in your arm.

You fell to the ground with a cry, vision blurring as you registered Mor’s blonde hair flying towards the archer, his body hitting the ground with a thud. Your vision swam as whatever poison laced the arrow’s tip invaded your senses, everything fading to black.

You lurched forward, head pounding in pain as you gathered your surroundings. You were in a familiar room - Amren’s room, you realized at the sight of the unfinished puzzle on the desk.

Pain shot through your arm, and you bit back a scream at the wave of pain as you collapsed back onto your pillow. Sweat beaded your forehead, quickly brushed aside by a familiar soft hand. You turned your head to see Amren looking down at you, her silky black hair falling in a curtain around her face.

Silver eyes sparkled with emotion, the petite female curling into your side as she buried her face in your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice thick.

Pulling her back from where she lay, you looked at Amren’s face, heart wrenching at the tortured expression she wore. “Why are you sorry?”

Your throat worked a heavy swallow, dehydration grating your voice. “I am sorry. I...” 

Tears flooded your eyes as you struggled to find the right words in Prythian. “I came here fast. They were too close, I was behind.”

Amren nodded, an assured smile gracing her lips when she smiled at you. “I know. You have helped us, so much,” she whispered, hand still gently brushing the hair from your eyes. “Everyone in the attack is gone. We are all safe, thanks to you.”

She looked down at your bandaged arm, and the memory of you diving in front of her flashed through your mind. “I would do it again,” you whispered, looking from your arm to her.

Amren’s eyes shone with unshed tears, her resolve crumbling at your gaze. “I know. I would, too,” she promised, and you knew she was telling the truth.

“Hold me?” you asked, coughing on your strangled words as you leaned weakly towards Amren. With a smile, she reached around you to pull a glass of water, tilting the glass to your lips as she helped you drink until you felt better.

“I have been reading,” Amren spoke in your language, her arms winding around your waist. She nodded towards a book that lay on the bed near her legs. “I have been making notes of your language and mine, and taking the time to learn yours. It’s a beautiful language.”

Her hand wound through your hair, gently scratching your scalp as you curled closer into her petite frame. She inhaled shakily, lips pressed to your temple before she murmured, “I hope to use your language much more, from now on.”

Silver lined your eyes, the kind gesture overwhelming as you lay in her bed. “I want to learn your language, too,” you whispered back, and the two of you understood how much more the promises meant. It was more than words. It was your future, and with Amren, it was brighter than ever before.

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #amren acotar #acotar imagine #amren x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfic #acotar reader imagine #acotar reader fic #amren #acotar fic #amren x you #amren x reader fic #amren x reader fluff #amren x reader angst #acotar fluff #acotar angst #acotar series #azriel #azriel acotar #cassian #rhysand #mor acotar #amren x you fluff #amren x you angst #acowar #acotar x y/n #acotar x you

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Best mistake

Azriel x Reader

Summary; Reader doesn't quite understand how mating bonds work.

Warnings; Mentions of sex

Masterlist

Velaris was always beautiful during the day, but during the night? It was a sight of dreams, if you really think about it; that’s one of the reasons it is called court of dreams. Because of this you decided that tonight’s dinner party should be held in the main balcony of the house of wind where the view was spectacular. Thankfully Feyre and Nesta volunteered to help you, otherwise you wouldn’t have made it. You were so lucky that Nesta preferred the bookstore you worked at, because if she didn’t you wouldn’t have met the inner circle, they wouldn’t become your family too and most importantly you wouldn’t have met him. The night court’s shadowsinger-your mate. Technically he wasn’t your mate-mate yet if that’s a thing, but you were making progress. You knew you had to accept him as your mate but with everything going on -the recent war, the reconstruction of Velaris and his missions- it was nearly impossible to find a free day -or several (wink wink)- for the mating ceremony. You still had no clue how you would accept him but the idea of asking anyone filled you with embarrassment. You are a fae for crying out loud shouldn’t you know this already?

You and Feyre were preparing the meals, everything was perfect until you noticed that you both forgot about Azriel’s request; apple pie. You whipped your head in Feyre’s direction to inform her, but she was gone, probably bickering with Nesta for something irrelevant. You shook your head and started making the apple pie. You knew that the house was enchanted, and it could make the food -weird- yet you wanted the dinner to be special and full of love thus you made all the food.

Everything was set and by the beating sound of wings you knew that Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand were approaching the house. You took your apron off and headed to the balcony.  Just a moment before the males landed, black smoke filled the air and Mor, Elain and Amren fell into the balcony. You laughed at their panting knowing that they were probably racing the boys here.

Strong arms engulfed you from behind and the musky scent of cedar and whiskey had you shivering. His face rested in your neck where he left a soft kiss.

“Hello angel” his voice melodic and soft like the finest velvet.

You just leaned back enjoying his Illyrian warmth and closing your eyes.

“Enough I’m starving” Cassian exclaimed earning a growl from your mate.

Soon everyone was devouring your food, complimenting you. After everyone was finished, you and Feyre walked back inside to get the desserts, you picked a plate and filled it with apple pie keeping the rest in the kitchen in case Azriel wanted more, after all you made it for him. As soon as Feyre had moved the desserts to the table you picked the plate and walked back outside, taking a seat next to Azriel you placed it in front of him without interrupting his conversation with Rhysand. He was briefing him about his last mission, so lost in the discussion that he didn’t notice your movement. Cassian did though and leaned back in his chair a smirk forming on his face. You lifted your eyebrow and he just shrugged pulling his gaze from you.

Azriel stopped talking and picked up his fork taking a piece of the apple pie, he chewed and a low moan left his mouth.

“This is amazing” he said, already picking a second piece.

“Really? I made it for you” you smiled excitedly.

Silence.

Everyone’s head whipped towards you. Azriel gulped, his eyes wide.

“What?” You asked. Fear filled your body.

Rhysand was standing up slowly as to not provoke the shadowsinger.

“Y/n don’t you know that this is how you accept the mating bond?” Feyre spoke her gaze fixed on Azriel. You gave her a confused look. “Offering food.” She specified.

“But we made all the food and we’ve done it again before” your voice barely above a whisper.

“Did you make the apple pie specifically for Azriel?” Cassian asked the smirk never leaving his face and his eyes filled with amusement. He knew.

You nodded.

“There you have it. You just accepted the bond and sent your mate into a sexual frenzy” he boomed. Your jaw almost touched the ground.

“You saw me leaving the plate there…you knew… why didn’t you tell me?” You shouted.

“I wouldn’t be able to enjoy this” he leaned back more and placed his hands behind his head.

Your gaze turned to Azriel who was shaking and then you felt it too. Every feeling was million times stronger, his scent filling all of your senses making you clench your thighs, a faint smell of your arousal leaving your body.

Azriel lifted his gaze on you, his eyes filled with darkness and dominance.

“Do you want this?” His voice feral and possessive.

“Yes” you breathed.

In an instant you were in his arms, his wings flaring behind him.

“Don’t come to the cabin” he growled to the others and with that you were on the sky, a yelp leaving your lips.

He glanced at you and then you decided.

This was the best mistake you’ve ever made.

Requests are open.

#acotar #acotar series #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian acotar #cassian #nesta x cassian #nessian #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #nesta acosf #feysand #amren #acosf #feyre #feyre x rhysand #feyre cursebreaker #high lady feyre #a court of mist and fury #amren acotar #inner circle #mor acotar #the morrigan

[mother-above]

All the Time in the World

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel and his family are reminded that even fae don't have all the time in the world.

Warnings: fluff, angst, death, swearing, grief (this is my formal apology to you all)

*masterlist*

Everything happens for a reason.

Those are five words that people say to cope with and rationalize why bad or good things happen. Azriel, Rhysand, Cassian, Morrigan, and Amren are no strangers to those five words. They thought about it daily, sometimes it was their first thought after waking up. You were always in their dreams, sometimes frolicking in a meadow, they wouldn’t see your face, but they knew your body, the way your hair blew in the wind, how your arms were lifted so you could feel the sun's warmth. Sometimes you were the main character of their dreams, so vibrant and full of life. Tugging their hands to make them hurry up and keep up with you whether it was running errands in Velaris or on a mission.

The words “everything happens for a reason” would be whispered before they slept. They would go about their day and even if it were filled with love, happiness, and laughter there was that missing piece, a void that could never be filled.

You were an enigma. So powerful, so enchanting, that the nobles in Hewn City knew to keep you hidden away. But someone like you could never go unnoticed, especially when you could manipulate the elements. You’d been surrounded by earth and rock all your life and you just knew there was something more, you felt it when you touched the granite walls, the stone told you of the sun beating down and the wind and water that battered the outer layers of the mountain.

Fae with your powers could never live underground forever, the Court of Nightmares was a prison you were bound to escape. The nobles trained you like a warrior, Keir hoped to use you to usurp the High Lord, but Keir acted too late, your power had grown and could no longer be contained.

When Rhysand became High Lord, he caught wind of your presence, a flourishing beacon of power trapped underground. Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian took it upon themselves to investigate where this power was coming from. By the time they landed on the mountain, they were met by a female who paid no attention to the Illyrian warriors. Your head was thrown back as you savored the hot kiss of the sun for the first time in your life. Around you were granite rubble, and when they looked fifty feet to the right, there was a gaping hole that came straight from the depths of the mountain. You had dug yourself out and the Illyrians had no idea how.

Finally acknowledging the three brothers, you looked at the male with violet eyes. “They told me your name is Rhysand. That I have to kill you.”

Azriel and Cassian’s siphons flared as they drew their weapons and pointed them menacingly toward you.

That was the first time you met the young High Lord and his brothers. All it took was for Rhysand to read your unguarded mind to see what you are and how you’ve been raised. To Azriel and Cassian’s surprise, Rhysand invited you to live with them. Shortly after that, you were acquainted with Morrigan who you’ve seen around before, and this ancient creature named Amren. The six of you became a family that supported each other through thick and thin. Under their care, you developed your powers and were able to manipulate nature's elements in any way you could imagine.

Your type of power has never been seen before and you were dangerous only when you needed to be. Despite your rough upbringing, you were good, you were the sunshine that graced every room you entered. The only unstable part of you was how your moods could sway the environment around you, like the time that idiotic male cheated on you, and a volcano erupted in Illyria. On your 250th birthday, the inner circle threw you a surprise party and you were so happy, the next few days were unusually warm and sunny for the middle of winter. There was also that time Cassian pissed you off during training for pushing you too hard, a bolt of lightning and thunder cracked right about you. You don’t think you’ve heard Cassian scream on that pitch before.

One would think the High Lords of the other courts hated you, but they didn’t. Yes, you were a threat because you were another powerful individual who was loyal to Rhysand, but they couldn’t hate you, it was impossible to. Amren credited you for being the reason the other courts haven’t waged war on the Night Court, your presence was soothing, and you had a way to compromise like no other. You were such a good courtier that Beron tolerated you. It also didn’t help that your laughter was infectious, Thesan and Helion made sure you were invited to every big event.

You were accomplished, sociable, and a capable elemental manipulator but you always thought your greatest achievement was bringing Azriel out of his shell. At first, the shadowsinger was apprehensive about you living with them but that quickly changed, his shadows found you interesting and you coaxed him out of the shadows. In a way, he felt obligated to help you, all your life was spent in Hewn City and even then, you were more isolated than Morrigan. He knew you were stuck in the darkness, and he wanted to show you the light. At the time, he didn’t know he needed you more.

Azriel loved to replay the memory of taking you on your first flight tour of Velaris, you gripped his neck and shoulders as you shrieked in glee. He would never be able to forget how your scent overwhelmed him that day, pine and cherry blossoms forever embedded in his consciousness. He landed by the Sidra, and you leaped from his arms and headed straight to the water. You slipped your sandals off and dipped your toes into the cool water and a wide grin spread across your face.

“Azriel! Come here!”

He obliged, he found it difficult to say no to you. He stood by the bank and found comfort from the sound of rushing water. All was calm until water splashed his shirt, and his eyes snapped open to see you with a mischievous smile, perfect spheres of water floated above your hands. With a flick of your wrist, they collided with his body, the water making his black shirt stick onto his muscular torso. You had approximately 2 seconds to admire him before a large splash headed your way. Azriel grinned as he watched you stand there dumbstruck.

“Don’t start things you can’t finish,” smirked Azriel.

Then the water fight started and the two of you never gave up, it was elemental magic versus a strapping warrior. You called a truce and both of you walked to the townhouse dripping wet, Mor wouldn’t let you into the house till you stopped dripping so you and Azriel sat on the front steps and watched faeries of all kinds pass by. Azriel caught himself smiling at you whenever you talked, he felt safe with you, like you would never judge him for his scars or dark past. He found it easy to talk to you, you never pressured him to talk like his brothers and Mor would do. Sometimes one glance was all it took for you to understand what he needed.

The two of you danced around each other for decades, neither of you brave enough to take the next step. You saw Rhysand and Cassian as your brothers but when it came to Azriel, it felt different, there was unspoken tension, a different love that ran deep and made you blush. Every time he brought a female home, jealousy filled you and the clouds became grey and stormy. Azriel felt the same way when you started dating, no one ever stuck for more than a few months, but he hated every single one of the males, they would never be good enough for you. What stung the most was Azriel didn’t think he was good enough for you either.

One day, you and Morrigan were sitting at the table having breakfast. She remembers this day so clearly because she had never seen you blush that color red. Azriel stopped by to eat a banana before training, Morrigan watched you not so discreetly check Azriel out in his Illyrian leathers. When he was done eating, Azriel threw you a wink before he bounded up the stairs to the training ring.

“Have you guys fucked yet?”

You choked on the yogurt causing you to have a coughing fit. “Mor!” you hissed. “Why would you ask that?”

“The two of you work well together, you understand each other.”

You shrugged as you drank water. “He’s my best friend, how else am I supposed to act around him?”

Mor looked at you incredulously. “Do best friends check each other out? Give each other massages after a long mission? Lay their heads on each other’s laps when they read? Kiss each other on the cheek constantly? Fall asleep together on the couch? Do they-”

“Okay!” you exclaimed. “You’ve made your point!”

Your cheeks and ears were cherry red, they burned as you stared at your breakfast.

“The two of you are single right now. I think you should tell him how you feel. Azriel… is Azriel, I think he’s too scared to make the first move, he’s always been more insecure,” said Mor.

“What if he says no and I ruin our entire relationship?”

Mor looked at your beautiful features and softly laughed. “He would be lying to himself.”

One week later, you finally had the courage to talk to Azriel about your feelings. He was standing on the balcony nursing a glass of whiskey, staring at the storm clouds in the distance. You leaned against the railing and looked at him, your heart pounding.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s full attention was on you, his eyes scanning for anything amiss.

You breathed deeply and fully turned to him. “Azriel… you’re my best friend and I wouldn’t want to change a thing, but I want more and… I think you do too.”

Azriel stared at you, his eyes wide as he tried to convince himself that this wasn’t a dream.

“Oh gods. You don’t feel the same way and I just ruined everything, haven’t I?” Your hands covered your face as you spun around to make a run for it.

Scarred hands clamped down on your shoulders and moved you to face him. Gently peeling your hands away from your cherry-red face, he smiled as his hands cupped your cheek. “You didn’t give me time to process.”

Your lips parted in shock. “So you want more?”

Azriel leaned closer to you, his breath blowing across your face. “I want to be with you.”

Going on your toes, you met him halfway. He remembered how soft your lips were, how you tasted like the wine you had been drinking to gather your courage. Your arms wound around his neck to you pulled him in closer, his large hands grabbed your waist and lifted you to sit on the railing.

A giggle stopped him from kissing you. “I might fall!”

Azriel’s arms wrapped around your body. “Then I’ll catch you.”

You beamed at him and Azriel’s heart felt full, you were the light he had been chasing all his life. He pressed his lips against yours and you melted against him, a small moan of contentment escaped your lips and Azriel grinned. He needed to hear that sound from you again.

“Ahem.”

You leaned to the side to see Amren smirking at the two of you. “Fucking finally. I thought we’d have to wait two hundred more years for this to happen.”

Azriel growled. “Is there a reason why you’re interrupting us?”

“Kallias sent out a distress message, I don’t know what kind of emergency so be prepared for anything. We leave in 5 minutes.”

Azriel let out a frustrated sigh and laid his head on your shoulder. “Such bad timing.”

Your fingers went to stroke the hairs on the nape of his neck. “I know,” you purred. “We can finish this when we get back. We’ll talk more about our future, what we want, what our boundaries are.”

Azriel lifted himself and looked in your gaze, so warm and full of life. The pad of his thumb ran over your bottom lip and that’s when he felt it. That golden thread unraveled itself and snapped into place. He was startled as he looked at you, your features oblivious to the mate bond.

He blinked as he realized it had yet to snap for you. You looked at him with so much adoration that for once in his life, he didn’t doubt your feelings. “Nothing,” he said as he pecked your cheek and helped you down from the railing. “We’ll talk about it later.”

“Okay, we have all the time in the world,” you said as you tugged his arm to get ready.

How the enemy was able to transport a Middengard worm to Winter Court still made faeries scratch their heads to this day. There were also enemy soldiers to worry about, but Rhysand ordered you to help with the monster. According to Rhysand, it was the largest he had ever seen, and its skin was thick and impenetrable. It was getting closer to the city and no matter what the courts shot at it, it never faltered. You joined Kallias and the other fae with ice-manipulation powers to do anything to get the worm away from the city. You slammed a foot down onto the ground and the frozen earth shot upwards hundreds of feet into the sky, creating a barrier for the city.

Kallias grinned at you, and you threw him a wink, you loved using your powers. Running full force toward the worm, you conjured large razor-sharp spears from the snow and made them jut out in the ground in hopes the Middengard would impale itself. It turned out you all severely underestimated the creature, it grew in height and then slammed itself onto the earth allowing it to burrow and move underground. Your jaw dropped in horror as it quickly made its way to the city, the wall you built would not be able to withstand its power. You looked at the gleaming lights of the city and your heart dropped. There were millions of faeries in danger.

Your mind whirred as you looked at all your options and the only thing you could think of didn’t look too good for you.

Rhysand could still remember the panic he felt when his Daemati talons slammed against your thoughts. You were so concentrated; your mental walls were down.

Please don’t do that. It’s too dangerous. There must be another way!

Rhysand’s fae sight let him see your soft smile, your eyes already lined with silver tears.

That’s a whole city, Rhys. you would do the same. Thank you for everything. Tell Azriel I love him.

Rhysand started screaming your name but that didn’t stop you from sprinting toward the Middengard and getting as close as you could. The moment you were above the worm, you let out a strangled scream as you let out every ounce of your power. Your arms were lifted and when your hands tightened into fists, the earth around you and the Middengard caved inwards. The giant earth wall that blocked the city crumbled down as you used all the materials available to bury yourself and the Middengard into the depths of Hel.

Kallias will never forget the sounds of your family screaming for you, he could still hear it in his nightmares. He remembered Morrigan throwing up and the spymaster dumbfoundedly staring into the soil you disappeared in.

***

They never recovered your body. It was too deep into the earth; the High Lords couldn’t even sense the Middengard worm. Rhysand built a beautiful memorial for you by the edge of the city, upon Azriel’s request, he made sure it was placed near the Sidra.

The inner circle was destroyed by your death. Amren had stayed behind to guard Velaris, so she was the last one to find out. No one had ever seen Amren cry but when her family winnowed in without you looking shaken and pale, she crumpled onto the floor and let out a wail that shook the townhouse.

Everything had turned upside down, it rained for a whole month, and it certainly helped no one's mood. The day you died became a court holiday, the people of Velaris mourned you, even some in Illyria and Hewn City. Every year on your death anniversary, the High Lords came to visit your memorial, they brought flowers or expensive bottles of wine that you liked. Beron never showed up, but he always sent a courtier to deliver an extravagant wreath made of autumnal flowers and red and orange leaves. You had once complimented the russet dahlias that lined his estate and he never forgot about it.

Every time Azriel opened his eyes in the morning, he wished for sleep because, in his dreams, you were still alive. Your favorite phrase in the world was “Everything happens for a reason”, it helped you cope with your childhood and the inner circle had adopted it as their mantra. Azriel hated it. He refused to believe that what happened to you was written in the stars. He hated that you had to sacrifice yourself. Why you? Why his mate? He had loved you for so long yet so much time was wasted on others when they could have been together. The pain he felt when the golden thread disappeared was unlike anything he had felt before. Azriel thought he was dead until he saw the earth cave in with you in the middle of it. His shadows were screaming but he was numb, he couldn’t believe you were gone just like that.

Azriel swore the birds had stopped singing in Velaris, his family thought he was crazy but then they noticed it too. There were these songbirds that sang every morning and if you heard it, you whistled back and they’d respond. It was like the natural world knew you were gone. Life without you was duller, the stars didn’t shine as brightly, and the sky wasn’t as blue as it used to be.

Like most things, time was the only remedy. With each year that passed, the pain slowly became bearable. Azriel was encouraged to see other people after a hundred years had passed but nothing went past the first date, no one was ever going to compare to you. He couldn’t touch another female without feeling sick.

The inner circle had gone through so much since you passed, and like clockwork, Cassian went to your memorial to sit and give you updates every week.

 ‘Rhys was stuck Under The Mountain. Azriel was being a pain in the ass about going to Illyria. Rhys came back from Under The Mountain. Azriel misses you. Rhys found his mate but she’s with Tamlin. Feyre threw a shoe at Rhysand. He met Feyre’s sisters. We miss you. A war with Hybern was coming. Cassian suspected he was mates with Nesta Archeron. The High Lords are having a meeting and we all wish you could be there to contain everyone. I was forced to see Bryaxis, again.’

Sometimes Cassian came with other members of the family but most of the time, it was just him talking to you. One day, Rhysand brought Feyre to your memorial, and she gasped at how beautiful it was. Using his Daemati powers, he showed his mate his most precious memories of you. Feyre squeezed Rhy’s hand and admired all the fresh flowers and gifts that were placed around.

“She was so beautiful and so kind-hearted. I wish I met her.”

“Me too,” he whispered. “You would have loved her.”

The war with Hybern was brutal. If you were still there, you would have tipped the scale and Prythian would have been winning from the get-go. Amren had to unbind herself from her body to save everyone, she was scared in her last few moments but then remembered how selfless and brave you were. The war was over but then Rhysand passed as well, sacrificing himself for the greater good, your last words to him ringing in his ears.

Feyre begged the High Lords to revive her mate and they did, her anguish reminding them of the loss they all felt when a certain Night Court member had passed. With Rhysand alive, he nodded toward the Cauldron, telling them that Amren was there too. Morrigan and Varian fished her out and Amren came out sputtering and desperately trying to gain control of her body. She kept coughing up water, so she furiously pointed to the Cauldron.

“What is it?” cried out Morrigan.

Silver tears started streaming down Amren’s face as she attempted to crawl. “I saw her, she’sin there!” she said desperately. “Get her out before she drowns!”

Every faerie looked at her like she was crazy. Who else would be in there?

Her head swiveled around until she locked into Azriel’s gaze. “She is in there.”

Azriel’s legs carried him toward the Cauldron and not a second later, Morrigan joined him as they blindly reached in. Morrigan started swearing as she felt a limp arm in there, finding the torso, Azriel helped heave the body out of the Cauldron. The female's body thrashed as she coughed out all the water she had swallowed. The High Lords and their courts burst into chaos when Azriel brushed the female’s hair off of her face.

Still dressed in Illyrian leathers, there you lay sprawled and gasping for air.

a/n: Thank you for reading! Call me pathetic but I made myself tear up writing this lmaooo. Should I do a part 2? Please let me know what you think in the comments!

#azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfiction #azriel angst #azriel acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel x y/n #rhysand #cassian acotar #amren acotar #morrigan acotar

[illyrian-dreamer]

And Then There Were None – Part 1

Azriel/fem!reader

Synopsis: In the lead up to the war, Hybern releases a catastrophic spell that wipes out all humans, sparing just one.

Abandoned in the desolate human lands, you scavenge to survive long enough to find your family.

Reluctantly, you are found by the Shadowsinger as fate intervenes to guide you under his watchful eye.

Part 2>>>

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Death, blood, suggestions of miscarriage

Twigs snapped beneath your boots, your steps heavy with exhaustion as you stumbled through yet another town, as barren and deserted as the last one. 

Exhaustion and dehydration weighed heavy, wisps of dust caking your skirts, your boots the only thing to disturb the rubble in days. 

There was no concern for a carriage that might pull up behind, or a bossy merchant to yell at you to clear the path. While the ghosts of the life that once flourished echoed in closed shops and abandoned stalls, you stopped looking over your back days ago.

There were no plumes of smoke from chimneys, no distant chatter or laughter or cries. Safe from the occasional grunts or mews of abandoned cattle - there was not a single sign of life, and no human in sight for the past ten days.

A jarring cramp ripped from your abdomen, pulling you from delirium with urgency.

Water, food, bathe and sleep. That was why you were here.

You tried not to think about how quickly resources were depleting, even though you were sure you were the only one using them. Without people to treat water, the stagnant liquid became increasingly dangerous. And you couldn’t farm a vegetable to save your life, and had spent too long journeying to have tended to any crops.

You’d have to go further into the woods soon, find a fresh stream, perhaps hunt too. But you'd need strength for that, and you had just about run out.

At least it was spring, and at least the trees bloomed with fruit as you travelled from town to town, feet blistered and chapped. You cursed you parents for not teaching you formidable survival skills - fighting, hunting, even the ability to ride a gods damned horse would have been an incomparable luxury these past hellish days. 

A clang of guilt, and frustration quickly churned to longing. Gods, you hoped they were alive. You would do anything to have them here, to journey this devastating isolation together, the little ones too. You prayed to the Mother for the umpteenth time that day that they were safe and well. 

It was not a concern when you woke to an empty house almost a fortnight earlier. Your father was likely at the market, your mother hard at work at the tailor in town. Your siblings were hard to catch at this time of year, with school out of term and the warm spring air, they would spend each waking moment by the river if your parents let them. 

It wasn't until you spotted your fathers wheelbarrow through the speckled glass of your kitchen window, held by rotting wood. Empty and unmoved, his tools lay flat on the ground, untouched since the day before. You could have sworn he told you he’d be at the market by dawn. 

Scanning the room, your eyes flicked to the doorway where your mothers workbag lay untouched. Needles sat poked in balls of yarn as stray thread sprawled over leather - but an eery stillness sang to you at your parent’s tools. 

Names and calls went unanswered, and after a quick search of the home you ran outside, urgent to ask your neighbours where they had gone, your heart fastening with every step.

Too frantic to observe the lack of movement and noise from your own street, you rapped on the door, waiting only a few seconds to push the rattling screen and forcing your way in.

Names went unanswered again, and it was instinct that steered you straight for the nursery. You halted at the sight of new born's empty crib, blankets rippled as if the babe was taken straight from it’s sleep.

Your calls turned frantic as you scoured each room, an upsetting, looming sensation creeping over your skin.

Bursting from the home, you shielded your eyes from the bright sun as you scanned the street with urgency. Your only greeting was a quiet breeze and snort of a horse left abandoned by a cart - as if it had stopped it's journey halfway through.

In a panicked haze, you searched the next home, and the next, and the next. The dizziness found you then. 

Clearly there was an emergency of some kind. But you had been abandoned, left to sleep until midday amongst the quiet. The thought pained you.

More calls to anyone who might have stayed behind, yet still no answer. Your heart was a thunder in your ears. 

Had the war finally reached you? Had your family fled in the dead of the night? You shook the thought from your head – they would have woken you, would have needed your help to escape with the youngens.

And then you were running – yelling, sprinting through the dusty streets, voice breaking as you dashed from home to home, shop to shop, calling, crying, pleading.

You were utterly alone. You had been left there, alone. 

In a swarm of panic, you pressed a palm at your heart, willing yourself to calm. It was a dream, surely. You were not abandoned, only stuck in a nightmare, the kind that often found you as murmurs of Hybern’s army reaching human lands became louder. 

In that dizzying thought, you willed yourself awake, forcing your eyes open to the walls of your dark and cramped room, to the noises as your siblings shouting and playing from downstairs, to the whistle of the kettle and the creak of the wood as your father came to wake you.

But the light was blinding, the sun as true as the your abandonment.

Beads of sweat that ran down your neck, a gnawing anxiousness building in your stomach as it heaved and cramped, nausea and panic churning to one. 

Something truly terrible had happened.

And in that moment of utter disbelief, a stabbing pain ripped from your stomach, so great it forced a whimper from your throat. 

As silent trickles of blood ran from your thighs to your knees, tracing your calves beneath the fabric of your skirt, you found a numbing sort of courage. Pushing your legs forward, you mindlessly heeded the road out of your home town, and on to the next. 

People. You needed to find people.

————

Ten days, and still not a single sole in sight. Each home, each tavern, each market and farm left eerily untouched. 

The silence was enough to drive you mad, if not besides the aide you so desperately sought. This was not your cycle - although the pains were familiar. You had known what you were, what this was.

Almost a fortnight, yet the blood still came. Slower now, spotting instead of trickles. You had stolen clothing from abandoned shops, food and water too. But you were distraught, moments away from folding into utter madness. And you were weak – very, very weak.

Water, food, a bath and rest. A list you repeated to yourself, your body begging to prioritise sleep with every step as you approached a farm at the town’s edge.

With a weak hand, you pushed past the gate to the yard, large rusty barrels sat open where a cow and her calf now drank. The water was murky with a distinct smell, but it would have to do. Tomorrow, you’d find fresh water tomorrow.

The trembling hand that dipped to the cool water hardly looked like your own. Dirt lay thick under your nails, your skin littered with cuts from the countless times you had shattered windows of stores and traders homes, scouring the stock for preserved goods and weapons. 

Bringing the cool liquid to your lips, you ignored the taste of iron as you willed it to soothe your throat - hoarse from the endless calls that went unanswered.

Ears pricking at sudden growl behind you, you jerked at the site of a pack of dogs who approached on stealthy paws. Their eyes were hungry - flicking between you and the calf. Once loyal farming dogs you were sure, now abandoned by owners and left to fend for themselves. They had formed packs - clever things. While you were sure they couldn't kill you, you didn't have the strength to fight an infection if they got close enough to sink their teeth. 

From your side, you unsheathed the hunting knife you had looted from a previous town. Swinging it with unpracticed skill, you shouted at the pack, your heart thundering as you waited for them to recline on hindered paws and leap. 

They pack seemed to weigh you up, deciding the calf was an easier target. You fled inside the house before you could see it meet it’s end. 

The home was neat, and you almost cried at the sight of a loaf of bread sitting atop the kitchen counters. Mould had attacked it’s edges, but you tore at it, fisting mouthfuls of the centre, dry crumbs coating your throat it was an effort not to choke.

Your stomach lurched, unhappy with the quality of the food and water, but you didn't care. You were on step closer to rest.

Another jarring cramp from your stomach, and you faltered, gripping at the wooden table as you trembled to keep yourself upright. This ailment, how much longer would you last? Sleep begged at you, your body moments from giving out. You’d have to forgo the bath, and prayed to the mother you’d find the strength for it in the morning.

Forcing yourself to the bedroom, swaying with each stumbled step, consciousness was already slipping as you collapsed on the bed, clothes and boots in tact. 

————

It was a feverish sleep, your body doused in sweat as you stirred often, jolting awake in panics, phantom calls of your family mixed with the flap of wings, and the crunch of stone and rock under heavy boots.

Then a voice, voices – ones you were sure they were part of your slumber. 

But as those footsteps got closer, you woke in a startle, your heart fastened as you blinked furiously. 

Voices. Humans. People. Alive, well enough to talk. 

You leapt from the bed, ignoring the spin of your head as you clambered to the window, peering behind sheer drapes to the street in front.

Your stomach sank. Lurched. Then sank again. 

A large, demonic figure stalked for the home. Wings arched behind it’s head, it’s figure blackened by the leathers it bore, sword and knives strapped around. 

And, wisps of some kind. Deadly, reaping magic.

Fae.

Fae had come. 

Knees buckling, you stumbled back a few steps. 

The world around you reeled as adrenaline coursed through. You would have just moments to prepare if you wanted a chance to survive. 

Knife. Your hunting knife. Still strewn at your hip.

Grasping it’s hilt tightly with a trembling hand, you scanned the room for the best place to hide. 

The cupboard was too obvious, and there was room under the bed - but there’d be not enough to swing your knife, only enough for them to drag you by the ankle… 

The gentle click of the front door opening, and it took all you had not to whimper in panic.

Scrambling for the door as quietly as possible, you pressed your palm to your mouth, begging yourself not to cry as you pressed yourself behind the wood.

From what you could hear over the thunder of your heart, the steps of the fae were quiet despite it’s size. 

“Anything in there?” a deep voice boomed from the street. You jolted at the volume. More than one, then.

There was no reply from the creature in the home, only the creak of the wood as it made it’s way through. 

“Really, Azriel? Are we to check every home?” Female this time, impatience and ignorance laced in the somehow ancient voice.

No response again, instead a footstep, right by the door.

Something tickled your ankles then, and it was beyond you to stifle your compulsive scream. 

Black furling wisps coated your boots.

And then the door opened.

The creature made it one step inside before you had aimed your knife for it’s heart. 

A prepared, cool hand caught your wrist inches from it’s chest. Your bones crushing in it’s grasp, and you let out a yelp of pain. 

It’s face - his face - was one of shock. “S-sorry,” he stuttered, dropping his grip all together. 

You blinked back in shock, ignoring at the throb of your wrist as you snatched it back. 

For a dumb moment, you stared at each other with equally wide eyes. The male didn't seem to know what to do. 

“You’re human? How are you here, where-?"

The males sentence was clipped short as you drove the knife towards his chest again. 

Quick as an asp, he caught you by the forearm this time, more gently too. 

Hazel eyes scanned you, his features schooling as he called over his shoulder. “I’ve found someone.”

You were sure you looked mad, grunting with the effort to pull your arm from him, breaths ragged, eyes and hair wild. The male studied you as he might a rabid animal. 

Behind him appeared an even taller male, his form more terrifying than the one that gripped you. 

“Mother above,” the new one whispered, scanning you in the way the first one had. 

“L-let go of me,” you rasped, pulling your arm back, tears stinging at the pain of you surely broken wrist began to swell. 

It was a odd detail to note, the scars and ripples of the fae’s hand as he gently unfurled your fingers, prying the hunting knife from you before releasing his grip. 

“Let me see,” the female’s voice piped from behind, the males struggling to fold their wings further, cramming into the room to let her through. 

You faltered back on instinct, legs hitting the edge of the bed. 

As the female broke through the males, harsh silver eyes scanned you up and down. She was half their height, a little shorter than you actually, but the depth of her gaze kept your hands by your side.

“Seems the Mother has spared one after all,” she muttered, nose crumpling at your scent. 

Your answered with a scowl. 

“What is your name?” it demanded. 

“Amren,” the taller male warned, his eyes flicking back to you with softness. 

You refused to answer. Couldn’t if you wanted to. 

Amren sighed, casting her head sideways to the one with rippled hands. “She bleeds.”

“I know,” he answered, hazel eyes not breaking from you. You blushed, furious and humiliated. 

He stepped around her then, the movement graceful and soft despite his size. 

“You need aide.”

You gulped, unable to process his words. “L-leave me be,” you demanded, voice hoarse as you tried to create more distance between you and it. 

He crouched in front of you then, leathers stretching against ripples of muscle. You noticed them then, jewels, saphires, humming from his body as if they were alive.

He followed your eyes curiously, before answering you with a soft smile. 

“These are siphons,” he said plainly, giving one a friendly tap. 

You snapped your eyes back to him, disgust forming your features. “You are here on behalf of Hybern?”

The female snorted from behind, earning a shove from the larger male beside her, his siphons glowing red.

The one in front of you studied you. “No, absolutely not.” 

You scowled, not inclined to believe them. 

“We come one behalf of our High Lord Rhysand, and High Lady Feyre. Rulers of the Night Court. Do you know of them?”

Feyre - the human women who had freed the fae from the grasp of their enemy. You knew the story, the heroic tale of a human women who gave her life for the male she loved. Had heard of her triumphs Under the Mountain, that she had been made into fae herself in exchange for her sacrifice. 

“The-the curse breaker?”

A small smile cocked on both of the males faces. 

“That’s right,” the one crouched in front answered. “She sent us to retrieve you.”

A panic surged within you. “Me?” you spat. Oh the ignorance of the fae, as if you were some pawn to pluck and place elsewhere. 

Azriel frowned, eyes dancing as he realised the mistake in his words. “To help you, of course. There has been-"

"No-n-no. My family, they will seek for me-"

Azriel's brow pulled with softness, his tone falling flat. "We will search for them. Meanwhile, you must see a-"

“Where are the others?” Your voice was louder now, eyes dancing in panic, chest rising with fastening breaths. Had they taken them too? “The people, they've left, I don't know-"

“We are searching for others. You are… the first we have found.”

Your mind reeled. How could that be? You had searched by foot - but with those wings, and the strength and power of fae…

“WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO THE OTHER HUMANS?” the volume of your voice shocked even yourself, that strength, that demand from deep within your chest. 

Azriel gave you a pained look, before standing to turn to his counterparts. “Amren, can you heal-?”

“I’m spent,” she cut off the male with a flick of her fingers. “Those canines out back were hardly enough to keep me going until sundown, so forget about healing. Unless you suggest I drink her blood, though I doubt she’d survive.”

Mother above.

You were too hazed to see the glare both of the males cut her.

“Then she will need to see a healer before we can continue.”

“She might refuse,” the larger one countered. 

“If she’s smart, she won’t. She won't survive out here on her own,” Amren muttered, cleaning her nails as she leaned one on leg, checking her cat-like claws for flecks of blood. 

They continued their mutter without once turning to you.

“There is no option here. I’ll take her to Velaris, and return once she’s safe.”

A shaking, blubbering anger grew within you, the creatures in front of you as ignorant and obnoxious as you had always been told fae are – to discuss your own fate as if you weren't in the room.

A killer instinct flared in you then, and you remembered the second knife you bore, hidden within your corsette. A pocket knife, a tool from your father to help pit and peel the fruit from his farm. 

The oak handle was cool in your left hand, the right throbbing and limp. With the last remains of energy,  you pushed up from the bed, swinging with all your strength - aiming for the blue-siphoned back. 

In a graceful turn, the male caught your arm for the third time. You had to blink at the speed with which he stopped you. 

Bracing for cruel, unforgiving anger, you were instead met with sympathetic eyes. 

Loathing coiled within you. 

“Release me,” you spat.

“I’m sorry to do this,” was all he said, and then pads of those rippled fingers were grasping your jaw, pressing to the pressure points of your neck with precision. 

Grunting to fight his grasp, you didn’t struggle long before a ringing in your ear grew to defeating silence and the world tipped to black. 

Part 2 >>> AN: HELLLOOO! And welcome to ATTWN - massive shout out to @kindasleepywriter for finding the perfect name for this series! I so so hoped you liked part 1. I edited it like a million times, still not 100% happy with it, but I think I just needed to get it out. Fair warning - this fic won't be light hearted, our reader is going to go through some really heavy stuff. I'll of course put my warnings ahead of each part, but please know I plan to explore some darker themes surrounding mental health etc. If you'd like to join the tag list for this fic, let me know in the comments! Always love hearing your feedback, and thank you so much for reading! <3 Nic

#azriel x reader #azriel series #acotar series #azriel angst #acotarfanfic #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x human #acotar angst #azriel acotar #azriel x female!reader #cassian x reader #amren acotar #acotar #azriel fan fic #inner circle angst #acotar fandom #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #rhysand and feyre #ATTWN series #and then there were none #dream big with nic

[dee-writes-smut]

WINTER (Part Two)

FEATURING Azriel x Illyrian!reader

SUMMARY in the aftermath of your kidnapping, you find it harder than normal to cope and continue on with life, causing you to push the people closest to you away. (THIS IS A PART TWO)

CONTENT WARNINGS descriptions of injuries, pain, torture, severe depression, and PTSD. If you thought the last one was dark, buckle up.

AUTHORS NOTE wow, three fics in two days?! What happened to me? I have just been super motivated to write creatively recently, which is exciting! So here, enjoy the second part of the Season's series, Winter.

Winter's embrace was a bleak grip, the world laying shrouded in a suffocating blanket of ice and snow, each flake a cruel reminder of nature's indifference. The landscape stretched out before you like a desolate wasteland, barren trees reaching up like skeletal fingers towards a sky heavy with the promise of more bitter cold to come. There was no warmth to be found here, only the biting chill that gnawed at your bones and numbed your very soul.

Gone were the vibrant colors and lively sounds of spring, replaced instead by a deafening silence broken only by the hollow howl of the wind as it whipped through the skeletal remains of once-thriving forests. The air was thick with a palpable sense of despair, each breath a struggle against the icy grip of despair that threatened to crush you under its weight.

As you trudged through the snow, each step felt like a punishment, a relentless march towards an uncertain fate. The landscape seemed to taunt you with its emptiness, a cruel reminder of the futility of your existence in a world so devoid of life and hope. Shadows danced across the frozen ground, twisting and contorting into grotesque shapes that seemed to mock your very presence.

And yet, amidst the desolation, there was a perverse beauty to be found – in the stark contrast of black against white, in the delicate lacework of frost that adorned the barren branches, in the eerie stillness that hung heavy in the air like a shroud. It was a beauty born of darkness, a twisted reflection of the cruel whims of fate that had brought you to this forsaken place.

In the heart of winter's icy grip, you found yourself consumed by a sense of isolation and despair, a prisoner in a world that had long since abandoned any pretense of kindness or compassion. It was a season of suffering, of unrelenting cruelty, of darkness so deep that even the faintest glimmer of hope seemed but a distant memory. And as the cold crept ever closer, you couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be an end to the endless winter that had consumed your very soul.

(Wintertime, Velaris)

As the first rays of dawn painted the sky in hues of pink and gold, I sat alone on the edge of my bed, my gaze fixed on the empty space where my wings used to be. The pain, both physical and emotional, gnawed at me like a relentless predator, sinking its claws deep into my chest, a constant reminder of everything I had lost. My once majestic wings, the very essence of my being, were gone, severed from my body by those who sought to break my spirit.

With trembling hands, I traced the scars where my wings had been, feeling the phantom sensation of membrane-like skin against my fingertips. The memory of their hard, bone-like ridges, their graceful span; it lingered like a bittersweet melody, haunting yet achingly beautiful. Tears welled in my eyes, blurring the world around me with their shimmering veil, but I refused to let them fall. Crying felt like admitting defeat, acknowledging just how shattered I truly was. So instead, I pushed the pain down, burying it deep within me, where no one could see.

But the emptiness inside me was a vast abyss, yawning wide and hungry, impossible to ignore. I had always prided myself on my resilience, my strength, but now I felt like a mere husk of my former self. The trauma of my kidnapping weighed upon my mind like a heavy shroud, casting shadows that danced and twisted in the corners of my consciousness.

As the days stretched into weeks, and weeks into months, I withdrew further into myself, cocooning my heart in layers of solitude and silence. The world outside seemed distant and hazy, a blurred landscape of faces and voices that I could no longer connect with. I couldn't bear the pity in their eyes, the whispered words of sympathy that fell like stones upon my wounded soul. So, I built walls around my heart, brick by brick, until I was encased in a fortress of my own making, impervious to the outside world.

Even Azriel, my steadfast companion, my unwavering ally, found himself barred from the inner sanctum of my heart. He tried to reach me, to break through the barriers I had erected, but I turned away, unable to bear the thought of exposing my vulnerability to anyone, even him. I didn't want their pity or their well-meaning words. All I wanted was to be left alone with my pain, to drown in it until it consumed me completely.

But even in my darkest moments, a flicker of hope danced on the periphery of my consciousness, a tiny flame that refused to be extinguished. It whispered of resilience and redemption, of healing and renewal, but I pushed it away, hiding from its warmth like a frightened child. For now, I would remain adrift in a sea of darkness, lost and alone, clinging to the fragile thread of hope that promised a way out of the abyss.

The memories played out in my mind with vivid intensity, each scene etched into my consciousness like a brand of torment.

I remembered the moment I was jolted from unconsciousness, the harsh voice of my captor slicing through the haze like a blade. "Wake up, whore," he hissed, sending a shiver down my spine and igniting a primal fear within me. Blinking against the darkness that enveloped me, I felt the oppressive weight of a bag over my head, suffocating and disorienting. Panic surged through me as I realized my bound state, my struggles against the restraints futile in the face of impending doom.

The voice, dripping with malice, mocked my defiance. "No need to struggle, sweetheart," he sneered, his words a cruel reminder of my helplessness. As I strained to make sense of my surroundings, fear clawed its way through my throat, leaving behind deep grooves of despair. The familiar scent of damp earth and mildew filled my senses, a chilling reminder of the unknown horrors that awaited me.

A flicker of hope emerged in the form of Azriel, my steadfast protector, but it was quickly extinguished by the looming presence of Lyris, a childhood friend turned tormentor. His eyes gleamed with sadistic delight as he brandished a dagger, the cold metal glinting ominously in the dim light.

With a cruel smirk, Lyris descended upon me, his voice filled with twisted pleasure. "Time to finally take what's mine," he taunted, the blade poised to inflict unimaginable pain.

The first cut tore through me like a bolt of lightning, a searing agony that ripped through flesh and soul alike. My cries echoed off the walls of the chamber, lost in the darkness that enveloped me.

But the torment did not end there. With each merciless stroke of the blade, Lyris carved away my very essence, leaving behind a shattered shell of my former self. I watched helplessly as my wings, once symbols of freedom and strength, were mutilated and discarded like worthless scraps of flesh.

And as the last remnants of my identity fell away, a hollow emptiness consumed me, leaving behind only the cruel scars of my torment. I was no longer whole, no longer the person I once was. I had been robbed of everything that defined me, my essence stolen by the darkness that lurked within the depths of my captor's soul.

As the soft rap echoed through the hollow corridors, it felt like a distant echo of a life I once knew, one filled with warmth and camaraderie. Reluctantly, I approached the door, each step heavy with the weight of my turmoil, the heavy thud of my heart matching the rhythm of my footfalls.

Feyre stood there, framed by the soft glow of the hallway lanterns, her presence both a comfort and a reminder of the bonds I had once cherished. In her hands, she cradled a delicate tray, a small offering of sustenance amidst the darkness that engulfed me.

"I brought you some food," she offered, her voice a soothing melody in the stillness of the room, a fragile thread of connection in the vast expanse of my solitude. "I thought you might be hungry."

My response was curt, a reflexive defense against the vulnerability her kindness exposed. "I don't need your pity, Feyre," I retorted, the bitterness in my voice a stark contrast to the warmth of her offering. "I can take care of myself."

For a fleeting moment, hurt flickered in her eyes, a silent plea for understanding that cut through the barriers I had erected around my wounded heart. But she quickly masked it with a forced smile, her resilience a testament to the depth of her compassion.

Without another word, she set the tray down on the table beside me, the scent of warm food mingling with the heavy silence that enveloped us. It was a gesture of kindness in a world that had grown cold and indifferent, a fleeting glimpse of the friendship I had once treasured.

As Feyre lingered in the doorway, her gaze lingered on mine with a quiet intensity, a silent invitation to let her in, to share the burden of my pain. "Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked, her voice a gentle reminder that I was not alone, that there were still those who cared enough to reach out a helping hand.

But I shook my head, my walls still firmly in place, my pride a shield against the vulnerability her presence exposed. "No," I replied curtly, my voice a harsh echo of the emptiness that echoed within me.

With a nod of understanding, Feyre turned to leave, the weight of her disappointment a heavy burden on my already burdened soul. And as the door closed behind her, I was left alone once more, the silence of the empty room a stark reminder of the walls I had built to keep the world at bay.

The evening air was thick with the scent of spices and laughter as I made my way through the bustling streets of Velaris, the soft glow of lanterns casting a warm hue over the cobblestone pathways. Each step felt heavy, burdened by the weight of my own thoughts, as I navigated the vibrant tapestry of the Night Court.

Amidst the lively chatter and cheerful bustle of the city, familiar voices pierced through the haze of my melancholy. Mor's vibrant laughter echoed through the air, drawing my gaze towards her radiant figure standing across the street. Beside her, Cassian, his presence as imposing as ever, offered a welcoming grin that tugged at the corners of my lips despite my inner turmoil.

"Hey, there she is!" Mor's voice carried on the breeze, her smile bright as she beckoned me over. "Come join us!"

Cassian's invitation followed, his boisterous enthusiasm contagious as he gestured towards the tavern. "We're heading for a drink. You should come with us."

My heart clenched at the genuine warmth in their gestures, a stark contrast to the icy grip of my own despair. The desire to lose myself in their company, if only for a fleeting moment, warred with the overwhelming sense of unworthiness that gnawed at my soul.

But as Mor reached out to take my hand, her touch a gentle reminder of the bond we shared, a surge of jealousy and resentment swept through me. My gaze flickered to Cassian, his powerful wings a constant reminder of everything I had lost. Anger boiled within me, bitter and consuming, as I struggled to suppress the envy that threatened to engulf me. "I appreciate the offer, but I think I'll pass," I managed to say, my voice betraying a hint of regret. "I'm not really in the mood for drinking tonight."

Mor's smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of concern crossing her features before she masked it with reassurance. "That's okay," she said softly, her words a soothing balm to the ache in my heart. "But if you ever change your mind, you know where to find us."

With a nod of understanding, I watched as they disappeared into the throng of revelers, their laughter fading into the night. Left alone on the deserted street, the weight of my solitude pressed heavily upon me, a reminder of the chasm that separated me from the warmth of their companionship. As the echoes of their laughter dissolved into the stillness of the night, I couldn't shake the pang of resentment that lingered in my chest. But even amidst the darkness of my despair, I knew that I couldn't risk dragging my friends down with me. So, with a heavy heart, I turned away, retreating into the shadows once more, the silence of the night swallowing me whole.

The faint glow of moonlight, a silver cascade, filtered through the windows, casting ethereal patterns across the dimly lit kitchen of the Night Court's sprawling estate. I stood amidst the chaos, surrounded by a haphazard array of pots, pans, and ingredients scattered across the countertops. My attempt at cooking had quickly spiraled into a messy disaster, each failed endeavor only serving to fuel my frustration further.

As I grappled with the stubborn lid of a jar, a voice sliced through the silence, its presence both unexpected and unwelcome.

"What in the world are you doing?"

Startled, I turned to find Rhysand standing in the doorway, his silhouette a stark contrast against the luminescent backdrop. His wings, a breathtaking display of power and grace, unfurled behind him like the majestic sails of a ship, the membrane-like skin gleaming in the moonlight. They seemed to pulsate with an otherworldly energy, each beat a testament to the freedom and strength they embodied. My heart clenched at the sight, a bitter pang of jealousy twisting in the depths of my soul. Once, I had known that same sense of freedom, had soared through the skies with effortless grace, my wings slicing through the air like a blade through silk. But now, they were gone, cruelly ripped from my back by those who sought to break me.

An ache, dull and persistent, throbbed in the space where my wings had once been, a constant reminder of everything I had lost. I longed to feel the wind beneath me, to taste the exhilarating rush of flight once more, but it was nothing more than a distant dream, forever out of reach.

"None of your business," I snapped, my voice a whipcrack of frustration, my fingers still wrestling with the stubborn jar lid. The last thing I needed was his pity, his condescending attempts to help when I clearly didn't want it.

Rhysand's gaze softened, a flicker of concern crossing his features as he approached with cautious steps, his movements a ballet of grace. "You're making quite a mess," he observed, his voice gentle but firm, like the soothing murmur of a distant stream. "Let me help you."

I recoiled from his touch, the anger bubbling to the surface like molten lava erupting from the depths of the earth. "I don't need your help," I spat, my voice tinged with venom, the bitterness like bile in my throat. "I don't need anyone."

There was a brief pause, a pregnant silence hanging heavy in the air as Rhysand regarded me with a mixture of sympathy and frustration. "You're clearly upset," he said softly, his words a gentle caress against the storm raging within me. "Let me help you. Let us help you."

But I refused to listen, the tempest of my emotions raging unabated, the walls around my heart fortified against any intrusion. With a strangled cry of frustration, I shoved past him and fled from the room, the echoes of his words following me like a haunting refrain, the cadence of his footsteps a melancholy echo in the corridors of my mind.

Alone in the sanctuary of my darkened chamber, I collapsed onto the bed, the weight of my own solitude pressing down upon me like a suffocating avalanche. Tears welled in my eyes, hot and stinging, as I buried my face in the pillows, the emptiness consuming me like a ravenous beast, its jaws gnashing at the frayed edges of my soul.

"Mind if I join you?"

Nesta's voice broke through the silence, her presence a welcome intrusion in the stillness of the night. I turned to face her, my expression guarded and wary, unsure of what to expect. She stepped onto the balcony, her graceful movements a stark contrast to the heaviness that weighed upon my own shoulders. There was a quiet understanding in her gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the pain that lingered beneath the surface.

"I know what it's like," she said softly, her voice a gentle murmur in the quiet expanse of the night. "To push people away, to build walls around your heart so high that no one can reach you."

I bristled at her words, the anger and resentment bubbling to the surface like a dormant volcano awakening from its slumber. How dare she presume to understand the depths of my despair, the darkness that threatened to consume me from within?

"You have no idea what I'm going through," I snapped, my voice tinged with bitterness. "You have Cassian, you have someone who loves you unconditionally. I have no one."

Nesta's gaze softened, a flicker of sympathy in her eyes as she reached out to take my hand. "I may have Cassian, but that doesn't mean I haven't faced my own demons," she said gently. "I know what it's like to feel like you're drowning in darkness, to feel like there's no way out."

I recoiled from her touch, the walls around my heart growing ever taller with each passing moment. "I don't need your pity," I retorted, my voice laced with venom. "I don't need anyone."

Nesta's expression faltered for a moment, a fleeting glimpse of hurt crossing her features before she quickly masked it with a steely resolve. "Fine," she said, her voice tinged with resignation. "But just know that I'm here if you ever change your mind. No judgments, no expectations. Just someone who understands." And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me alone once more with the weight of my own sorrow.

The library exuded an atmosphere of solemn tranquility, its shelves adorned with ancient tomes and illuminated by the soft glow of flickering candles. I sat ensconced amidst the towering pillars of knowledge, a solitary figure in the midst of a vast sea of wisdom, my thoughts tumultuous and unruly.

"I’m joining you.”

The voice, sharp and unwavering, pierced the silence like a dagger, its intrusion disrupting the fragile peace that had settled over the room. Startled, I glanced up to find Amren standing before me, her gaze penetrating and incisive, cutting through the veil of my solitude with unnerving precision.

"Fine," I sighed, my voice tinged with resignation as I gestured for her to take a seat. Amren wasted no time in settling herself across from me, her movements fluid and purposeful, her eyes fixed upon me with an intensity that made me squirm.

"You look like hell," she remarked bluntly, her words a harsh echo in the stillness of the library.

I bristled at her candor, the urge to lash out bubbling up from the depths of my despair like a tempest on the horizon. But there was something in Amren's gaze, a glimmer of genuine concern beneath the steely facade, that gave me pause. She wasn't asking out of idle curiosity; she genuinely wanted to understand the turmoil that churned within me.

"It's nothing," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper as I averted my gaze, unwilling to meet her probing stare.

Amren snorted in disbelief, her lips curling into a sardonic smile as she leaned forward, her eyes boring into mine with unrelenting intensity. "Don't give me that bullshit," she retorted, her tone sharp and unyielding. "I may not be the touchy-feely type, but even I can see that something's eating you alive."

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat growing with each passing moment as I struggled to find the words to express the depth of my despair. But before I could respond, Amren reached out and grasped my hand, her touch surprisingly gentle despite the steel in her eyes. "I'm not going to pretend to understand what you're going through," she said softly, her voice a quiet reassurance in the stillness of the library. "But I do know one thing: you don't have to face it alone. We're your friends, and we're here for you, no matter what."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, hot and stinging, as I looked into Amren's unwavering gaze. In that moment, I realized that she was right. I didn't have to carry the weight of my despair alone. I had friends who cared about me, who were willing to stand by my side through the darkest of times. But even as the realization washed over me like a tidal wave, a part of me rebelled against the idea of letting them in. The walls around my heart, built brick by brick in an attempt to shield myself from further pain, felt impenetrable, insurmountable.

With a trembling breath, I pulled my hand away from Amren's grasp, my movements abrupt and jerky. "I don't need your help," I said, my voice strained with emotion. "I don't need anyone."

Amren's expression hardened, her eyes flashing with barely concealed anger as she stared at me, incredulous. "You're a fool if you think you can face this alone," she spat, her voice cold and cutting. "But fine, if that's how you want it. Just know that when you finally come crawling back, don't expect us to welcome you with open arms."

And with that, she rose from her seat and stormed from the room, leaving me alone once more with the weight of my own despair. Even as the silence settled around me like a suffocating blanket, I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that gnawed at my soul

As the twilight descended, casting its ethereal veil over the Night Court's training grounds, I found myself standing alone at the edge of the courtyard, my heart heavy with the burden of my own anguish. The fading light painted the world in hues of amber and indigo, a melancholy backdrop to the tempest raging within.

With measured steps, Azriel approached, his presence a soothing balm amidst the chaos of my emotions. His silhouette merged with the shadows, his eyes alight with concern as he drew near. "Are you alright?" His voice, a tender caress against the backdrop of the evening's symphony, reached out to me, offering solace in the darkness.

I turned to face him, my heart aching with the weight of unspoken words, the tumult of my soul laid bare in the vulnerability of my gaze. "Do I look alright?" I whispered, the bitterness of my sorrow echoing in the stillness of the night. "Do I seem like someone who has it all together?"

Azriel's expression softened, his gaze a mirror to the storm brewing within me. "I'm just trying to help," he murmured, his voice a gentle melody that stirred the depths of my wounded spirit.

Tears welled in my eyes, the ache in my chest threatening to consume me whole. "Maybe I don't want your help," I confessed, the admission a fragile confession of my deepest fears. "Maybe I'm tired of everyone trying to fix me, like I'm some broken thing in need of repair."

The hurt that flickered in Azriel's eyes pierced through me, his anguish a reflection of my own. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice laden with remorse, a silent plea for understanding.

My resolve wavered, the walls around my heart crumbling in the face of his compassion. "I don't need your apologies," I confessed, the weight of my pain heavy upon my shoulders. "I just need… I don't know what I need."

With that, I turned away, the vulnerability of my confession hanging heavy in the air between us. As I retreated into the enveloping darkness, I felt the warmth of Azriel's presence recede, leaving me alone with the ache of my own brokenness. And in the stillness of the night, I grappled with the realization that perhaps, amidst the chaos of my despair, what I truly longed for was the one thing I had pushed away—the comforting embrace of someone who cared.

But even as I yearned for solace, the sight of Azriel, the one who had rescued me from the clutches of darkness, stirred within me a tumult of conflicting emotions. His Illyrian heritage, his wings—symbols of strength and freedom—served as painful reminders of the horrors I had endured. And in his compassionate gaze, I saw reflected the shadows of my past, haunting me with memories I longed to forget. It was hard to see him, to confront the echoes of my trauma that lingered in his presence, yet even amidst the pain, there remained a flicker of hope—something that clung so tight, that wouldn’t let go, and that throbbed in the presence of him.

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#azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acotar #rhys acotar #acourtofthornsandroses #acowar #acotar fanfiction #angst #fanfic #acomaf #x reader #velaris #night court #a court of thorns and roses #depressing shit #tw depressing thoughts #tw depressing stuff #amren #mor #rhysand #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #amren acotar #cassian #wings #a court of silver flames

[lucysstoryworld]

The Veil Whisperer | Azriel x Reader (1)

Summary: The aftermath of Bryce Quinlan's arrival has stirred up some trouble for the Night Court. After weeks of trying to resolve the issues on their own, the inner circle of the Night Court are left having to consult a dangerous female to complete the job much to Azriel's dismay.

Themes: Love/hate relationship, enemies to lovers kinda.

Warnings: CC3 SPOILERS, NSFW from the get-go, canon-typical violence, angst.

No use of (y/n). I might have gotten some info wrong about acotar and can't double check bc I gave my friend my books so pls be aware of that. I would also massively appreciate any criticism! I'm trying something new and would definitely appreciate any pointers of any kind!

Words: 3620 | Part Two Here

Azriel stood before his High Lord and Lady, frustrated and exhausted. Irritation was rippling off him in waves, his shadows swirling as though there were snakes poised to strike. Azriel was poised as though he was going to strike. The fresh spring wind had melded into the sweltering summer breeze since he had last been in Velaris. Gods he wished he could sit on one of the many balconies of the River House, with a whiskey and book in his arsenal. The feeling of the sun on his wings, the sweet scent of Elain’s garden being pushed around by the wind and the faint sound of Nyx cooing close by felt like a dreamscape away.

“So there’s nothing,” Rhys stated, more than asked.

Azriel felt his muscles tighten and his fists close. More than anything, he felt the tiredness weighing on his eyes as he furrowed his brows. The actions were so slight that, to the normal eye, they would go unnoticed. But to Rhys and Feyre, the actions were as obvious as the sky being blue. “Not even a trace,” He started, reigning in his annoyance. “My spies have tried, their connections have tried, I’ve tried and I can’t even pick up a hint of a track.”

Azriel wished he could go back in time and make Bryce undo whatever it is she did to the Prison during her impromptu visit. Azriel had spent the last number of weeks cleaning up after her. Or attempting to at least. Azriel watched as Rhys assessed the weight of his words, observed as he and Feyre spoke mind-to-mind.

Feyre lifted her chin. “So what we are faced with is that this is not something we can resolve…” she looked hesitantly toward Azriel, trying to lay the words delicately. Feyre very rarely saw Azriel so wound up. There had been glimpses in the war, like when Elain had been lured away by the cauldron. But this was a different ball game. Bryce had stirred up Prythian in her desperate attempt to save her world. Feyre could not fault the girl for that, no matter the swagger Bryce flaunted. But, they had been cleaning up, Azriel had been cleaning up the chaos she left behind. “Not on our own at least,” She finally finished.

Azriel struggled to move past the feelings of failure with his High Lady’s words. Though his bones were aching, his wings seemed heavier and heavier with each tick of the clock and his shadows now swirling lazily as if they were the embodiment of his exasperation, Azriel couldn’t help like feeling he could have done more. Like he could dig that little bit deeper to give his brother and Feyre some semblance of information. Anything, if it meant they wouldn’t have had that slightly disappointed look on their faces.

Azriel did not acknowledge Feyre’s words, instead picking a spot on the wall behind both of them. A pawn, ready to be ordered to their next position. Rhys could see his brother recessing. He remembered the time he saw Azriel again after the first wars, that same demeanour being mirrored right before his eyes. “We will discuss what to do later. You’ve been gone awhile, brother. Rest for a bit,” Rhys declared, and rested a hand on Azriel’s shoulder. A sliver of guilt snaked up Rhys’s spine when Azriel seemed to deflate slightly, as though he was prepared to go back into the field if he was ordered to. Azriel finally met the High Lord’s eyes, a silent thank you and apology all twisted into the gentle nod. We are grateful, Az,he whispered into his mind.

With that, Azriel left Feyre’s study. Walking the halls, Azriel debated saying hello to the members of his family that were in the River House. One would think that he would have been excited to see them. Typically, he would have. Though, this mission was particularly gruelling and with no result, the thought of disappointing anyone else on that day was the very last thing he wished to do. So, Azriel stopped in his tracks and winnowed to the House of Wind. Usually, he flew home so he could enjoy the sight of his home after a long mission like this but, it was an effort to keep his wings from dragging on the floor.

***

Steam billowed in the grand bathroom, so thick it was hard to determine where the steam began and Azriel's shadows ended. The aforementioned Illyrian warrior breathed a silent thanks to Nesta and her power for granting the House a consciousness. The bath was already drawn with various oils diffusing into the air by the time he left his knives down in his room. Slowly, Az began to peel his leathers from his aching body. Bit by bit, the articles fell away revealing the constellation of scars mixed with tattoos. Azriel stood bare before the mirror, studying the reflection before him. His eyes skimmed and paused a different points, though they were sure to keep clear of his hands. Scuffs of mud clung to Azriel's legs from the trenches he had to almost wade through, along with a few almost-healed scratches he acquired that morning. A few past battle wounds decorated his torso, the newest being from the arrow that had pierced his chest the day Nesta and Elain were Made. Averting his eyes, Azriel focused on his face instead. As if just taking his eyes away could take away from his failures of that day. Failing his High Lady and failing each of her two sisters was something that would take a few more years to be at peace with.

Azriel admittedly looked like shit. His hair was much longer than when he left, and he had done a few rough chops in the time that passed. Darkness underscored his eyes, and his skin looked like it had aged a few decades, if that was even possible. Azriel lowered himself into the almost blistering bath. A sigh loosed from deep within his chest, relief prickling across his skin like wildfire. Stretching his wings out in the water, his muscles relaxed from the weeks of pent of frustration. Azriel scrubbed gently, almost massaging his worn out body. The lavender and honey soap clung to the dips and bumps of his body. Gladness was all Azriel could feel. Finally, he felt like he was home. No disappointment or worry, just the pleasantness and serenity that Velaris promised. Azriel supposed the only thing that could possibly complete this scene would be a loving mate, massaging his scalp with her soft luscious legs wrapped around him from behind. Maybe she would kiss his neck, or whisper how much she loved him in his ear. The thought sent a rush of blood between his legs, arousal beginning to cloud Azriel's mind. Azriel gripped himself and began to pump slowly, thinking of how her body would push against his back. His head rolled back as he imagined her soft tits against his wings, her nipples grazing against the sensitive area close to the base. Suddenly, his hands were hers. Her fingers would be wrapped around his cock, stroking away his tough day as she kissed and nipped at his neck. Closer and closer, she would take him to the edge of ecstasy, running her thumb over the head of his cock. Shivers rippled through Azriel's body as he neared completion, his toes were curling as he felt his head became light. His mate would begin to lick at the spot on his neck that drove him wild, and her other hand would reach to lightly caress his wings. The thought of the sensation sent Azriel careening through his orgasm, spilling into the water around him.

With laboured breaths, Azriel got out of the bath. While he needed release, it seemed to highlight just how lonely he was feeling. How he wished the cauldron had blessed him with Elain that day, instead of matching her to Lucien. But alas, like always, he was not worthy of such a fate. Drying off, Azriel heard a slip of paper land on the vanity nearby. A letter from Rhys. Padding over to it, it read that there was a family dinner that evening to celebrate his return and have a discussion with everyone over what to do. Confirming his attendance, because with his dear brother it was always a choice, Azriel let the paper vanish into thin air. Until then, he was going to crawl into the mass of satin sheets and plush cushions that were seemingly screaming his name.

***

Rhysand or Feyre must have brought everyone else up to speed on Azriel's mission before he arrived because no one had asked about it and they were already three courses into dinner. He momentarily caught Feyre's eye, questioning her with a single glance. His High Lady merely winked and smiled, then returned her attention to the cooing babe in her arms. Trust Feyre to take care of their family in ways they didn't know they needed. Azriel allowed himself to sink in to the idle chatter, striking up a conversation with Nesta and Cassian, who looked as though they were about to have a domestic.

"I'm sure you'll be able to hold your own against me in a couple decades, Nes," Cassian teased and looked to Az for backup.

Nesta caught the bothers' exchange and directed her cutting glare to Azriel. "Well?" She calmly demanded, though like always, there was a cool fury ready to strike.

The Shadowsinger raised his arms, "Maybe when you can reanimate a skeleton and kill a Middengard Wrym with it, then perhaps you'd be able to hold your own against her," Azriel quipped, earning a satisfied humph from Nesta. Cassian chuckled, squeezing his mate's shoulder.

Mor, in true Morrigan fashion, used the allusion to recent events to bring up the topic that had been looming in the air since Azriel arrived. "So... how do you think we should tackle the escaped prisoner issue?" She asked everyone. Everyone halted their conversation, waiting to see what the others came up with. Azriel dipped his head slightly, embarrassed at his lack of answers.

Rhys sighed deeply, his brows knitting together. He kept his eyes trained on his hand, which was currently being toyed with by Nyx. He studied it for a moment, wishing he could be as innocent and oblivious as his son. "I was thinking that there might be one person left who would have the knowledge to track them," Rhys started. He was unsure, not enjoying the idea of what he was about to suggest.

Azriel seemed to catch on and he couldn't help the scoff and eyeroll. Elain looked between the two brothers, "What?" She asked, wariness prickling down her arms. Elain had never seen Az so tired and irritable than this evening. It had to be bad, for Azriel to act so animated compared to his usual demeanour.

"Nothing," Azriel nearly spat, "It's nothing because we are not going to see her."

A collective realisation occurred across the original members of the inner circle, and more confusion within the Archeron sisters. Everyone's reaction was different. Mor frowned, Amren remained unsurprisingly indifferent and Cassian puffed a breath out of his cheeks. "Amren, will you explain please?" Feyre asked, clearly not in the mood for dramatics.

"The 'her' they are referring to is a female gifted with a magic long since purged from this world," Amren explained. "She is known in this land as the Veil Whisperer. The Veil Whisperer has been known to exchange services in return for hefty bargains, some of which has left those who have availed worse off than before they struck the deal."

"This sounds like it is ill-advised," Elain replied, rubbing her hands over her arms.

"It is ill-advised," Azriel affirmed, sticking Rhys with a hard glare.

Squaring his shoulders, Rhys did not yield. "Does anyone have a better solution?" He asked everyone, though his eyes remained on Azriel's.

"I hate to say it, Az, but Rhys could be right. We are in under our heads here," Mor added. "I don't like it either, but what other options do we have?"

"Why don't we ask our friends in other courts? Maybe Helion could offer us something we don't have?" Nesta questioned.

"We didn't tell any of the other courts about Bryce's arrival or what she did when she was here. We would have to explain that in order to explain why we are in this predicament." Cassian's words breathed a sense of awareness across the table. Of course they couldn't ask for help. Not without creating tension and distrust with their friends and fraying what little lines they had with other courts.

"So we are on our own in this," Elain began tentatively. "If we do attempt to solicit this Veil Whisperer, who's to say she will accept the job?" Azriel felt gratitude towards the middle sister for the support.

"Rhysand has only had dealings with the Veil Whisperer on a very limited amount of issues. Each time, her price is different than what she is typically known for," Amren's voice was unforgiving.

"I have only heeded her services a handful of times, for very specific reasons," Rhys told the sisters, Nyx's eyes began to lull as he nestled into his mother's chest. "I asked her to hide my mother's ring in a place that would be hard to get it out of."

Feyre's lips straightened into a line, and she met Rhysand's eyes, and damn... if looks could kill, the High Lord would be dead five times over. "I thought you put the ring into the Weaver's cottage yourself," Feyre stated, a slight hiss in her tone as her jaw clenched.

Cassian had to conceal his grin as Rhys looked at Feyre apologetically. "Not exactly," his brother began, and a barely muffled snort erupted from the general. "You remember that my mother wanted it to be a challenge. The only person I thought could be creative enough to hide it would be her... and I was right," Rhys explained and shot his brother a glare, returned only by a smug Cheshire smile.

"So you let this Veil Whisperer do your dirty work then." Trust Nesta to not pass up the opportunity to gain the upper hand.

Cassian outright cackled at his mate's criticism, "Nes has got you there, brother!"

"No, Nesta," Rhys challenged. Things had not been completely amicable between Rhys and Nesta since she gave away the Mask to Bryce. "I do not let her do my dirty work. Let's not join in on discussions you couldn't possibly have any understanding on."

"Rhys," Feyre warned.

The warning went unheard, as Nesta tipped her chin -- a tell-tale sign that she was about to enter battle. "No, what understanding could I possibly have. Surely no one else in this room has superior knowledge to their High Lord," She spat. Tension began to thicken in the room, like a fine soup. "Well, unless that 'understanding' matches your own. Gods forbid anyone truly disagree with you... Rhys." Nesta's eyes narrowed and when she saw her words had hit their mark, a smirk tugged at her lips.

"Well, now that we're totally off topic," Mor drawled. "Anyone fancy another drink?"

"She's right," Feyre sighed. Rhysand broke his staring competition with Nesta, anger coiling in his gut. "We need to make a decision on if we are going to approach her or not."

"What price does she typically demand?" Elain questioned.

"For my mother's ring, she demanded a specific tea." Rhys looked at everyone but skipped over Nesta. "I thought she took mercy on me. But no, this tea comes from a particular plant that grows in the Bog of Oorid, and happens to be protected by the Kelpies." Everyone looked reasonably put-off, Nesta particularly whose mate pulled her hand into his own. "Not to mention that it is poisonous in its plant form so I had trek back to the Whisperer's dwelling feeling like death warmed up."

Elain frowned, her mind trickling through her knowledge to determine which plant could have possibly debilitated the High Lord of Night. "She didn't tell you that it would do that?" Elain already knew her answer.

"No," Azriel finally spoke. "The Veil Whisperer is a master of manipulation. Everything that leaves her mouth has an ulterior meaning. Lies hidden within lies. You won't know the truth unless she wants you to. Not telling Rhys about the tea was her way of showing that she can down him in ways he would never even think of, without even a touch of her magic. She is a snake and jumping into this with her is stupid," He finished with a grunt.

"Have you ever seen her magic?" Nesta asked the table.

To the sisters' surprise, everyone shook their head. Nesta raised a brow at Amren, thinking out of anyone she would have seen it. "I do not enter into bargains with the likes of her," Amren stated as though it was obvious. "And I have never been in her presence. She does not participate in war, under any circumstances. Though I have heard that she works with other... deities. A rumour, but a dangerous one to float in these lands." Everyone remained silent at that little bit of information, not entirely sure on how to digest it, let alone comment on it.

"All this being said... I don't see any other viable option," Mor declared. The lack of argument was agreement enough.

"So how should we go about this?" Feyre asked. She hated instances like these. As High Lady, she should be able to provide solutions for her friends and family but her overall lack of old age inhibited her in these niche situations.

"The Veil Whisperer lives in the Middle. Azriel and I will go there tomorrow and ask her if she wants the job."

Before Azriel could even protest his involvement, Amren cut in, "She will want this job. She will gain information that she can work to her advantage, and that says nothing of her asking price. Tread carefully, boy." The warning was not taken lightly. Rhys dipped his chin, though his mind seemed a million miles away.

Feeling his social battery wearing quicker than usual, Azriel declined any offer of further drinking and decided to return to the House of Wind. Though he gave the excuse of being tired, which he was, he caught the look in Elain's eyes. The look that screamed that she could see right through the excuse. Whether it was her seer abilities or that she had come to pick up on Azriel's subtle giveaways, he was unsure. Feeling the need to fly off some of his stress, Azriel made for one of the balconies. Though the aforementioned middle Archeron sister followed him to the terrace. "You don't have to go. You can stay and talk, if you wish." The kindness and observation rattled Azriel's chest. He had never experienced a female be so attentive and caring toward him before. Not one he also cared for anyways.

His shadows began reaching for Elain, slithering and weaving affectionately. "Thank you, Elain. I'm okay for now, I will sleep it off. But I appreciate the offer." Well, it meant something to him but that didn't mean her gesture was enough for him to emotionally offload onto her.

Frowning ever so slightly, Elain's shoes clicked on the polished marble as she shortened the gap between herself and the Shadowsinger. Gingerly, she reached for his gloved hand and squeezed gently. "I hope you know that I truly mean that. There is nothing so severe that it should be shouldered by you alone."

Azriel brushed her cheek with his free hand, unable to stop the smile that tugged on his lips. "And I truly appreciate that, thank you Elain. Your kindness is beautiful, I truly hope it never pales." He said by way of a goodbye and backed away from her blushing face, stretching his wings. He could tell she wanted to stop him but he launched himself from the balcony before she had the courage to respond. Azriel felt like an ass, pushing her away when she was trying. He often found himself slipping under Elain's spell of sweetness and beauty, yet something in the back of his mind always reeled him back to reality. He desperately wished it wouldn't, he ached for the companionship both his brothers had. Though it seemed the Mother had different plans for Azriel... if she has any at all Azriel often thought to himself.

Azriel pushed all thoughts from his head and soared higher and higher, testing his limits as the air thinned around him and became harder to fly through. Up and up, closer and closer. Then, his wings stilled and curled around him. The descent was vicious, the earth was pulling Azriel down with a fury. The air whipped past the Shadowsinger, and finally, his mind felt empty. In that moment, Azriel was nothing more than a drop of rain from a cloud, falling from grace. Opening his eyes, the lights that dusted Velaris like golden glitter inched nearer. And just as they went from specks of stardust on the ground to discernible buildings and faelights dotted along the river, Azriel finally opened his wings and levelled off. Adrenaline coursed through his blood and finally shook the cobwebs that felt adhered to his bones. Azriel soared across the sky, allowing his thoughts and feelings to ebb and flow through him.

And when he eventually touched down, Azriel felt prepared for tasks laid out before him. Felt prepared to come face-to-face with the Veil Whisperer.

Part Two Here

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel angst #acotar azriel #morrigan acotar #cassian acotar #amren acotar #cc hofas #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #acotar fandom #a court of silver flames #nessian #elain archeron

[fabulouslyflamboyant5]

The Unrighteous Knight Part 2

pairing: azriel x second archeron sister!reader

summary: After the events that occurred between Azriel and you, nothingness seems rather appealing. (Also some insight into readers past, and how becoming fae has affected them)

warning: su**ci*al thoughts, canon typical violence, nesta slander…inner circle slander?

word count: 1.3k

a/n: Sorry for delay, my drafts got deleted! This chapter is a little slow, but necessary for character development. Turns out, reader isn’t such a meek character after all…

Part One Part Two Part Three

To be, or not to be.

That is the question. The simple question, as mortals would insist. But what hold do the claws of mortality have upon an immortal being? How far must a cauldron made fae go to completely rid themselves of their humanity, with no guarantee that they will find solace in immortality?

Nowhere.

That is the answer, the simple answer your youngest sister and her dashing mate insist upon.

You must go nowhere, because simply put, the act of searching for serenity is sure to attract confusion.

But the answer is surely not so simple. Is nowhere not anywhere when you have been dragged to a land different from the one you’d grown to love?

The soil of Prythian feels foreign beneath your feet. Then again, your own skin feels foreign against your blood, which feels volatile within your soul.

Prythian, the continent home to Feyre Cursbreaker, Lady Death, and the most beautiful of the three sisters, Elain, cannot possibly be home to you, (y/n) Archeron, the sister who stands out for no reason other than her own lack of brilliance.

While the cauldron may have lent your younger sister the power of a seer, you were left with nothing.

Not brave enough to take it for yourself, you have come to terms with the fact that you are once again, left behind.

The forgotten sister. Perhaps that is what you are. What you always have been.

They insist that this is your home, that Velaris will bathe you in its light and rid you of your struggles. But you have found that you quite hate the light. It is darkness that you seek. It is nothingness you yearn for, the absence of everything in its entirety.

You try not to let these thoughts fester for too long.

Writing, for all you know, is the only way to remedy the situation. After all, it is considerably easier to distract yourself when you have something to look forward to.

Something that you enjoy.

Perhaps it is the nothingness within your leather bound notebook that brings you peace. The unfilled pages are not lonely, but instead, freeing.

The cruelty of your reality leaves no mark on the pages of your worn book. Nothingness, or in this case, fiction, is all that lines its pages.

Stories of the past, present, and future are maimed into something foreign. You are the narrator, you are the creator, you are in control.

Control.

That is your answer. Supplied by none other than yourself, of course.

It is control you seek. The ability to lead a life you choose, without ever having to bow down to forces external to your own psyche.

Forces beyond the harsh stare of Azriel, the Night Court's Shadowsinger, and the bane of your eternal existence.

In the many years you’ve known him, he has never failed to remind you just how deep his hate for you went. Like a raft sailing down an empty river, your efforts to mend your relationship are continuously shut down.

Not that any of it matters, not anymore.

The second his blade made contact with your abdomen you knew, just knew that the two of you would never make peace.

Even now, days since the incident, a phantom pain remains, pulsing within the thin scar below your left rib.

It’s frustrating really, how do you move on from something you never want to forget?

Staring down at the tea stained pages of your journal, you let the question linger.

A whole bunch of nothing.

That is the answer you arrive at.

It should be familiar now, this nothingness within you. This nothingness you embody.

Your sisters, bless them, will never grasp the emptiness that resides within you. But how could they, for all they know you appreciate solitude, find serenity in the freedom this world has provided you.

But it is not freedom you embody, it is loneliness; nothingness in its purest form.

“What is it exactly you are working on?” Nesta’s cool voice asks you. Had you not known her better, you’d surely mistaken her inquiry for judgment. But you do know her, so you send her a hum too weak to be mistaken for one of contentment and forbid your eyes from leaving the shadow filled paper below you.

“Nothing,” you are working on absolutely nothing.

Had you looked up, you would have seen the two cups of tea in her hands.

Had you looked up, you would have seen the sheer weight of determination resting on her shoulders.

Had you looked up, perhaps the shadows moving slowly across your hands would have stopped their movements and removed themselves from your proximity.

But alas, your eyes remain on the dark creatures, hoping, praying, that they leave the library and take your loneliness with them.

“I know what you're doing,” she spoke once more, clearly set on making her presence felt.

“And what may that be?”

“You’re overthinking,” she moves across the shelves, elegantly placing herself onto one of the cushioned chairs in front of you.

“I can assure you, that is not the case.” Nothing, that is what you are doing, and have been doing since you were forced upon this planet.

“Come back to the training ground tomorrow, I’d like for you to be there,” her voice is sincere but it is dissatisfaction that overtakes you. Of course that is what this is about. You’re foolish for assuming she had come here with the answers to the questions you seek.

“I’ll consider it,” you say dryly, reverting back to the page below you, noticing the shadows have seemingly disappeared.

Whether or not Nesta is satisfied with your response means nothing to you.

It means nothing, really.

Nothing does.

“I don’t think he meant it.” And so Lady Death strikes again. As is if her words tore open your jugular, you find yourself recoiling into the chair. Of course she would think that, it’s not as though she were present to witness the hatred in his eyes, the malice within him as he raised his sword, the eagerness of his actions against the vulnerability of your torso.

“Oh?” The paper crinkles under your tight fist, its sound serving as a reminder of your demeanor.

“He was wrong to do what he did. He hurt you and I hate him for that,” she halts, carefully thinking of what to say, “That said, I don’t believe he meant to hurt you. Had he known your skills in combat, I think the situation would have been avoided.”

It’s your fault really, you should have guessed as much. The path of wrongness will always lead back to you. You shouldn’t have expected Nesta, of all people, to see through the situation.

“I’ll see you on the training grounds before sunrise tomorrow, because from what I am gathering, I cannot trust anyone here to not kill me if I don’t refine my skills.”

For a moment, guilt can be found on the face of your sister, though it is quickly replaced by something akin to anger.

Looking as though she intends to say more, Nesta rises from her chair and makes her way towards you. You find comfort in this, it reminds you of home, or something that once was home.

“If you despise your life that much then perhaps it is best you leave.” Too far, she’d gone too far. In typical Nesta fashion, she expresses her guilt through absence. The two filled tea cups serve as the only indicator she had even been present.

This is on you, completely your fault. You dared to welcome presence into nothingness and allowed for tension to fester. How foolish you were.

So with that, you begin to write.

tags: @sidthedollface2 @marvelouslovely-barnes @impossibelle @chessebookgirl

#angst #fanfiction #fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #rhysand #rhys #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #eris vanserra #lucien vanserra #fluff #books #reading #azriel x reader angst #nesta #elain #feyre #feyre cursebreaker #feysand #cassian #amren #morrigan #mor #acotar x reader #sad

[fxckmiup]

𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 || 𝐀𝐳𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐥 𝐱 𝐎𝐂

♡ 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | ♤ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭 | ♞ 𝐇𝐮𝐫𝐭/𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 | ☆ 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭 {𝟏𝟖+} | ♛ 𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐞 {𝟏𝟖+}

Chapters: {01 / ??}

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Arya Darling, The Princess of the Night Court. 

Arya Ashford, The chosen mother of the Archeron sisters. 

Both were created to be the Salvation of All.

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

      » [ Nuvole Bianche ] «

     ⇄   ◃◃   ⅠⅠ   ▹▹   ↻

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Chapters: {01 / ??}

Disclaimer & Trigger Warnings

Prythian & The Lands

Seven Courts & High Lords

The Inner Circle

The Archeron's

Playlist

Prologue

01 , 02 , 03 , 04 , 05 ...

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Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list :)

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

☾ 𝕐𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥, 𝐫𝐞-𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝔸ℕ𝕐 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬. 𝕀 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬. 𝔸𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. ☽

Disclaimer: All characters and the storyline of the acotar characters belong to Sarah J Maas. My OC's (Arya and a few others) and their storyline/anything to do with her, belongs to me.

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#azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel smut #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x oc #a court of thorns and roses #night court #inner circle #rhysand's sister #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #cassian #morrigan #azriel #azriel fanfic #a court of rebirth and salvation #acotar #amren acotar

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Word count: 3200+

Warnings: a bit of violence

Part XVII | Part XIX

You jolted awake, heaving, skin sticky with a cold sweat. Your trembling fingers found the pendant safely hidden under your clothes. It was dream, another nightmare, you thought at first as your sight focused on the light colored chiffon curtains around the bed.

You tried to calm down, inhaling deeply. But it didn't work, panic gripped on your trembling heart that beat too fast. Why it was harder than usual? Your throat was closing, you couldn't breathe. Why hadn't you forgot it as soon as you opened your eyes?

"Y/N!" A males voice cried out. Before you were able to comprehend what's happening, mattress dipped and strong arms wrapped around you. "Thank the Mother."

You finally breathed in. You had to repeat it several times to be able to speak out.

"Rhys," you whispered, your voice hoarse. Your brother was with you. You were safe. The panic began to dissipate. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you weren't the only one crying. Rhysand sobbed, his grip growing stronger.

You stayed like this until both of you calmed down. You didn't speak, just held each other.

"I'm so sorry," Rhysand whispered as he pulled away to look down at you. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have revived those memories."

No dreams, but memories. That's why it didn't disappear after you woke up. You closed your eye and immediately opened them because the horrors started to play out behind your eyelids again.

For the first time in your life you saw Rhys struggling to find words. He was opening and closing his mouth like a fish. You finally looked at him properly.

Rhysand looked terrible. Red eyes with dark circles under, dishevelled hair, wrinkled clothes that remembered better times. He was a mess, much messier than after all-day training in the camp.

For Cauldron's sake, you were so confused. You pressed palms to your face. The horrible headache was back, too.

"Y/N, are you okay? Tell me what should I do? Do you need something?" Rhysand was immediately cradling you.

"I have just this insane headache," you rasped.

"Do you want that powder from Madja?"

You nodded without thinking twice. Small bottle and glass of water appeared on the nightstand. Rhys added a spoonful of powder to the glass, mixed it and handed the glass to you. You gratefully drank it. It worked almost immediately. You sighed with relieve.

"You okay?" You asked Rhys. "You look.. tired at best."

"You were unconscious for last five days. I couldn't leave you alone. It's all my fault.."

"Five days?" you choked on water. "It doesn't matter. Anyway. Don't you dare to blame yourself. I was the one who asked you to do that."

"It was so.." Rhysand fisted on his hair. "If those bastards weren't already dead, I would.." He was so angry that air around him crackled with power.

But you didn't have a chance to talk with him more as a roar came somewhere from the hallway. "Where is she?"

Both of you turned to the door at the same moment, eyes wide. Rhysand was about to stand and go to see what was going on down there when the door flew open and hit the wall hard.

On the threshold stood Azriel. His eyes dark, face full of rage, body ready to strike. The shadows wildly swirled around him, wings stretched behind his shoulders. He was so scary, looking like the embodiment of death itself. If you didn't know him, you would be so panic-stricken, unable to even blink. His hazel eyes scanned over you still in the bed.

In a blink of eye he had Rhysand pinned to the wall, his feet in the air. "What did you do to her?!" he growled, baring teeth at him. Blue siphons on his leathers shone dangerously.

Your brother struggled against his grip, his lips turning blue, but he didn't use any magic to protect himself. Azriel was so blinded with the rage he would kill him and Rhys would allow it. You had to stop him somehow.

You leapt from bed and tried to pull his muscular arm away from Rhys' throat. "Az, calm down," you whined, but you didn't make him move for even an inch. "Azriel!"

Rhysand's eyes began rolling back, now whole his face was bluish.

"Azriel! Let him go!" You were pulling on his arm even more furiously now, your nails digging into his flesh. You drew blood. Only then his gaze moved to you and his arm fell back.

Rhysand fell to the ground gasping for air and coughing. You knelt beside him, rubbing on his back. "Rhys, are you okay?" He just nodded still panting and coughing.

"Are you crazy?" you turned to Azriel. "You could kill him."

"That's exactly what I wanted to do," he retorted, glaring down at his High Lord angrily. "He promised to not push you further. You weren't ready for that and he fucking knew it."

"I asked him to do that!" You shouted back.

At that moment Feyre appeared in the door. She was dirty from a paint, apparently somebody ran to her studio in the city to alert her after Azriel arrived.

"Rhys," she cried out when she saw him panting on the ground and ran to him.

You both helped him stood up and get to the door. Feyre gave you a worried look. A silent question. You just shook your head and smile and so she took your brother to their room, leaving you alone with Shadowsinger.

Azriel glared after him, promise of death in his eyes.

"Don't even think about that," you warned him. "It was my decision. I went to him. If you need to vent your anger on someone, here I am."

He grumbled something you didn't understand and stayed silent with hands crossed on his board chest, hazel eyes watching you.

You gazed back at him.

"How do you feel?" he asked much calmer.

You raised a brow at him.

"What?"

"You were about to kill Rhys. Don't I deserve the same?"

His mouth opened and closed, no words coming out. "It's different."

"How?"

"Simply different."

You angrily glared at him until the spymaster did unthinkable thing. He backed and disappeared in his shadows without another word.

Exhausted you sat down and pulled knees to your chest. As it became your habit, you took the pendant out and played with it. Now you knew. You regained the last bit of your memory. You had everything as you'd planned. You were trying to avoid thinking about the horrors of the last night your mother was alive and rather tried to focus on finding a way how to get to Spring Court.

That night you couldn't sleep. You aimlessly wandered through the house until you found yourself in front of Rhys' and Feyre's bedroom. You were about to knock on the door, but you changed your mind at the last second and decided to go to the garden.

The door behind you opened quietly and Feyre came out. "Oh, it's you," she smiled tiredly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you."

She just waved a hand. "I was about to get some tea. Will you join me?"

You nodded and a few moments later both of you were seated in the sitting room with steaming cup of tea in hand.

"How is Rhys?"

"Oh," Feyre smiled. "You don't need to worry about him. They're fighting quite often. He's fine, sleeping like a baby at the moment. By the morning he won't have a single bruise."

You shook your head. "It's my fault. Azriel burst out like that because of what I asked Rhys to do."

"You did nothing wrong. Anyway, it was up to you to decide that. Azriel can't be angry for that."

You sipped your tea while Feyre watched you, face tense with worry. "Are you okay?"

You tried to smile, but it turned into grimace. "I will be."

Feyre sighed. "I guess you can't sleep. Rhys showed me what happened there. It was.. well.. more than terrible. If you would like to talk about it.." she offered gently.

You thanked her and this time you managed to smile properly. "It's enough that you are here."

She nodded. You finished your tea mostly in silence, just occasionally doing some small talk. That's how you found out there would be Starfall in a week.

Starfall, the biggest and most beautiful celebration in Night Court. How could you forget about that? An idea began to form in your head.

"Who will come?" you asked subtly.

"As usual. It will be us, my sisters, some friends and people from the city," Feyre smiled, already imagining the party.

"Friends?"

"Yes, Winter Court's High Lord with his wife and few generals. Helion will come and a few friends from Summer Court. Lucien should be here, too." Feyre was counting on fingers, roaming through the list in her head, but you stopped listening.

You already heard what you needed. Lucien would be here. Such a big party was a good occasion to disappear without being noticed for hour or two. It should give you enough time to speak with Tamlin, if things went in your favor.

Thinking about all possible alternatives you even forgot about the horrors of your past and spent that week mostly peacefully.

Evening of Starfall

You stood in your room in front of the tall mirror, admiring yourself. Mor convinced you to go shopping dresses with her and this was what you ended up with. The dress she'd chosen for you for this event was beautiful. It was very simple long dress made of dark blue almost black velvet, the hem of skirt was decorated with shiny little stones that in narrowing chains rose up to your waist. It reminded a night sky full of shooting stars. Indeed, very fitting for today's evening.

She also insisted on helping with your make-up and hair. Since she left a few minutes ago, you had been standing in front of the mirror looking at your reflection. It wasn't like it didn't suit you. To be honest, it suited you a lot, you felt almost beautiful, but this wasn't you. It was too much.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a knock on the door. "Are you ready?" Rhysand's voice shouted from behind the door.

"Yes," you answered. Door opened and Rhys strolled in.

As soon as he found you, his eyes widened. He froze on the spot, in silence gazing at you.

"What?" You raised a brow at him. "Is it too much?"

He slowly shook his head looking for his voice. "No, it's perfect. You're beautiful. I've never thought I will get a chance to see my baby sister like this. Tonight you'll be the most beautiful among the stars."

You frowned at him, blushing fiercely. "You are such an ass."

"I'm just honest," he grinned. "I can't wait to see Azriel's expression when he sees you."

You rather said nothing to that. Ever since he revived your memories, he kept making small remarks about Azriel and you. No need to say that the very next day after Azriel almost killed him, they were again brothers, talking as if nothing had happened.

"Let's go. I can't wait to show my Starshine to my friends," he teased you.

Party was held as always in the House of Wind. This was your first time visiting here since you came back, but you had to say that although Rhys had changed the furniture and decorations, the house itself hadn't changed that much. You still could easily navigate through narrow halls and numbers of rooms here.

Rhys' family was gathered in a big private sitting room. As soon as the two of you walked in all eyes turned on you.

Mor had already seen you, so she wasn't so surprised and sent you just a cheeky grin. Cassian's sonorous voice was the loudest one. He left his mate at the bar and hurrying to you he lifted you up, spinning with you.

"Our lil' sis finally joined the gang," he laughed as he put you down. "Look at you! You're so pretty, dove."

Laughing you pushed him away when he tried to kiss your cheek. Your face felt even hotter than after Rhysand complimented you. "Stop that, you big bear. You'll destroy Mor's hard work."

"You look amazing," Feyre hugged you. Even Amren nodded approvingly. Next to her stood male you'd never seen before, but it wasn't hard to guess he was from different court and had a thing for her. He smiled politely at you, which you returned.

Elain stood with her sister at bar. She frowned at you and turned away. As long as she didn't make another scene, you didn't mind. Nesta, on the other hand, winked at you and smiled, sipping from her glass. It was surprising.

Balcony doors opened and Azriel walked in with a glass of whisky in hand. "What's -" When his eyes met yours he forgot what he was about say, gaping at you. Hand that held the glass dropped and its content spilled onto the floor, splattering his shoes and pants.

Rhysand and Cassian boomed with laughter, others turned around and hiding their amusement pretended to be occupied.

You spared him an embarrassing situation and walked away to Mor. You hadn't talked with him since he attacked Rhysand and honestly, you were still a bit bitter about that.

As the evening progressed, the party was in full swing. Rhys and Feyre disappeared, certainly having their private party on one of the smaller balconies. Cassian with Nesta also disappeared together. They visibly needed an alone time. The rest went down to have fun with the other guests.

You were alone on the higher balcony, pretending to observe the crowd below you. True was you were looking for a certain redhead. Feyre said Lucien would come, but you hadn't spotted him yet.

"Drink?" A deep voice spoke to your right. Shadowsinger waited just a few inches from you with two glasses of wine in hands, offering you one. You hadn't heard him to come.

You gave him a tight smile. "I don't drink."

"Oh," his cheeks tinted with pink. Both glasses disappeared. "You are stunning tonight." You ignored that comment. He leaned against railing, looking down. "Are you still angry with me?"

"Little bit," you answered honestly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. Well, at that moment I guess I did, but..I was angry. And so worried for you. Rhysand sent me on some damn mission that took weeks to accomplish. I couldn't see you for so long and the first thing I heard after returning home was that you aren't well, that you're unconscious because he returned you the last bits of your memories. He promised me to wait."

You placed your hand on his big scarred one. "As I already told you. It was my fault. I asked him to do so."

"Now I know. But back then.. I think I would react the same way even if I knew," he admitted."

"The three of you grew into brutes," you rolled your eyes.

He laughed, the sound so rare that you couldn't resist and had to look at him. He was handsome in the tailored suit. Even more than usually. Despite all hardships and wars that he survived, he still seemed young and innocent, just as you remembered him. Your heart stuttered, breathing became labored.

He had to hear that because he stopped laughing and looked down at you. Suddenly he seemed to be too close. The crowd below you gasped and went silent, all eyes turned to the sky. You did the same.

The show had began. Hundreds of spirits travelled above you. A warm wing wrapped around your shoulders, big hand landed on your waist. You turned to Azriel, his shiny eyes already on you. Now he was even closer than before. You could feel his warm breath full of freshness and woody smell of whisky on your face, strands of his hair tickling your forehead.

It threw you centuries back, when the two of you stood on the exactly same spot in the exactly same position. You were just a young female, still teenager, crazily in love with the handsome young male, best friend of your older brother, who loved you deeply. Your knees buckled just like they did back then, breath caught in your throat. His full lips brushed over yours. A moan made its way through your parted lips. You felt so lightheaded and drawn to him.

But..

This was wrong. You weren't that young female anymore. You didn't feel the same way anymore. Your heart changed. You were here on a mission. You blinked the haziness of your mind away.

"I'm sorry," you breathed out and ran away, leaving confused Azriel behind. He didn't try to chase after you nor he stopped you.

You ran until you got two floors lower and only then you stopped in one of the alcoves in the hallway to catch your breath. You forbade yourself to think about what just happened on the balcony.

You were upset. You needed to find Lucien quickly, before the party would be over and you miss the best chance. You walked down the hall and turn the corner just in time to see hair as bright as a fire disappear in one of the doors.

You stalked closer and carefully peeked in. You were lucky, it was Lucien. He stood with his back to the doors, pouring some alcohol to the glass. He was alone. You slipped in and closed the doors behind you.

Startled he turned to you. "It's you? You should have said something. You move around like a ghost. One day somebody gets a heart attack because of you." He turned his attention back to the drink. He seemed to be in a bad mood.

"I was looking for you."

"Really?" He took quite big gulp of liquor grimacing. "So congratulations. You found me."

"Are you okay?"

"Nothing I couldn't solve myself," he snapped. "What do you want from me?"

"I need you to take me to Spring Court." His brows raised, both russet and gold eye snapped back to you.

"You what?"

"You heard me."

Lucien laughed. "Sure. And next time I meet Rhysand, he will chop me into small pieces and feed me to some beasts. Thanks, no."

"He doesn't have to know you helped me."

Lucien tsked, but he listened. "All I want from you is that you take me to Tamlin. That's all. After that you can return to the party and pretend you haven't seen me at all."

"Why?"

"You said it yourself. Tamlin needs help and I can help him. Do I need any other reason?"

He looked you over from head to toe with narrowed eyes, thinking. A muscle pulsed on his tightened jaw. "Okay. How do you imagine we get out of here?"

It surprised you. You thought he would be harder to convince to do something so crazy and dangerous.

And so you presented him your plan. It was very simple: find unused balcony far away from prying eyes and winnow. You already had an idea which rooms with balconies would be safe for your escape.

Lucien agreed and obediently followed you through halls. You were already so close to the one of the empty rooms when a deep voice came from behind you.

"Where do you think you are going?"

Taglist:

@impossibelle @sevikas-whore @b0xerdancer @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @tele86 @mybestfriendmademe @nocasdatsgay @yunloyal @nebarious @isabiss @st0rmyt @lilah-asteria @ubigaia @paleidiot

#english isnt my first language #tamlin fanfiction #tamlin x reader #tamlin acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #azriel angst #rhysand #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel #feyre #elain archeron #nesta archeron #morrigan #cassian acotar #amren #lucien vanserra #acotar fanfiction #acotar #sarah j maas #sjm fanfic

[oliviajdjarin]

Azriel Shadowsinger: Nervous

Pairing: Azriel x female!reader (she/her)

Summary: “‘Look my love,’ he whispered into your ear, and placed his hands on top of your own, squeezing atop them lovingly.

‘We’re the same.’”

Warnings: intense descriptions of burns and scarring, trauma, swearing, slightly bitter, depressed, and angry Azriel, Cassian is here, intense insecurities, kissing, dancing, shy!azriel, shy!reader, probably cringey dialogue, please please beware of the scarring descriptions.

A/N: I have no experience with burn scars, therefore I will never understand the pain of having them both physically and mentally, so I in no way am attempting to romanticize them. My intentions are purely to show that having scarring in any way shape or form is beautiful, and nobody is worth any less because of it. Constructive (and kind) criticism of my descriptions is appreciated.

A/N 2: thank you @cityofidek for the push to write an idea I’ve had forever. Thank you! This is also partially inspired by hoax by Taylor Swift :) (I apologize in advance @leahkenobi)

SJM Masterlist

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

(pic gotten from Pinterest)

“Look a bit more tense, brother.”

His puffed chest recoiled slightly, and his eyes darted behind him.

Cassian smiled. “Catching the Spymaster of the Night Court off guard. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Azriel released a breath of annoyance through his mouth and turned back around, facing the Mahogany staircase. His jaw ached from how tightly he had been flexing it, and how long he had been in his own head.

“Are we waiting for someone?”

We. As if Cassian understood what the Hel he was going through. As if either of his brothers understood.

Cassian stood next to him and exhaled dramatically.

Azriel turned his head to scan his brother up and down. He was dressed similarly to him—a well-fit, dark-black suit, dark enough to brighten his ruby-toned siphons. His hair was clean, his musk was prevalent, his face was shaved, and his eyebrows seemed to look…sharpened?

“Nesta’s idea,” he said, noticing the shift in Azriel’s eyes. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt. I was wrong.”

Azriel hummed in response, noting how Cassian was trying to calm his nerves with humor, but it wasn’t working. Nothing was fucking working.

“You nervous?” Cassian said, patting him on the back.

He knew the answer to that. Azriel’s fidgeting, bare hands behind his back proved it enough. He felt the familiar scar tissue along his fingertips, cringing at the thought of your face when you saw them.

Why did he wait until now to show you them?

He was a fucking idiot. An asshole. A coward.

He had trusted you with everything, everything, except for this. The part of him he loathed above all else. The piece of himself he wanted to bury.

“Hey,” Cassian said, snapping him out of his own daze once again. “You can do this. She loves you. We can see it.”

Could she love a liar?

“Y/N is kind. One of the kindest females I’ve ever met,” Cassian continued. “It’s going to work out.”

How fucking easy that would be for Azriel to say, if he wasn’t the one who was left behind.

He had watched Rhysand crumble for Feyre. He thought it would kill him, but he saved her. It worked out.

He had watched Cassian tip-toe around Nesta, accepting any scrap of herself she fed to him, and then it all went up in flames. But it worked out.

All of it worked out.

For them.

Azriel loved his brothers more than anything. He was elated for them, but the facts still remained: their beds, their hearts, and their bonds were full.

But what about his? What about him? The last one. The straggler. The one who had picked his brothers up, relating to the missing pieces inside of them, and finding comfort in their mutual sadness.

He never thought about what would happen when they didn’t need him anymore.

Until, he found you.

An ember of light in his never-ending darkness. The shade of blue that complimented his own, the only being in the world that made the chorus inside his soul begin to sing.

His unwanted jealousy and resentment for his brothers began to disappear, and his energy went only to you.

Fuck yeah Azriel was nervous. You were all he had ever longed for, everything he would never deserve, and the only person he would dance with on Starfall.

He groomed himself as best he could, making sure to add a touch of the cologne you had complimented him on.

You smell…woodsy. Like a forest, you had said late one night. I like it.

It was safe to say his heart just about dropped out of his ass when you said that, and he had worn it every day since.

He inhaled, letting the crisp night air coming through the House of Wind windows fill up his lungs, and he exhaled.

Cassian was right. You were kind. Wonderful. Beautiful. His scars were one of the many pieces of him that you would accept…hopefully.

Until then, he would stand there and wait, all night if he had to, even if it was just to catch a glimpse of you.

Your eyes alone would put every star to shame.

~*~

“Shake out those shoulders,” Mor said behind you. “You’re too tense.”

You exhaled through your nose and did as she asked, waving your arms side to side. You rolled your shoulders as well, feeling them begin to ache from how hard you were clenching them.

“Come on Y/N,” she said. “Look at you!”

You were. That was the problem.

You had never felt more beautiful in your life.

From the tips of your feet to the flyaways of your hair, you were coated in a thin layer of glitter. It was so faint that it only showed in certain lighting, and Mor applied just enough on you to make it look natural. You skin looked angelic, while your dress…

It was anything but holy.

The midnight blue complimented your skin tone beautifully, and, as if the glitter lining your skin wasn’t enough, every fold and crease in your dress was encapsulated with diamonds. Real diamonds.

You didn’t want to ask how much this cost. You really didn’t.

The fabric was perfectly comfortable, hugging your body exactly the way you wanted it to. Your makeup matched the colors cascading over your body, and your hair was done just enough to still look like you.

“If Az isn’t on his knees by the end of the night,” she said admiring you. “I sure as Hel will be.”

You rolled your eyes at her, knowing she was poking at you to get you out of your head, but it wasn’t working.

“Y/N,” she said, “he will love every inch of you. He already does.”

You swallowed grimly, still staring at yourself in the mirror.

You didn’t know the dress would be backless. You didn’t know how much of you it would show.

And you hadn’t told Azriel yet.

You closed your eyes, unable to get the picture and feeling of it out of your mind. The burning agony that stretched up the length of your back when it happened, and the painful bliss of the aftermath. You did it for the Night Court. You did it for the High Lord.

You did it for your family.

But that didn’t make the scar stretching from the bottom of your spine to the middle of your shoulder blades any smaller, and that didn’t make the memories of it any smaller either.

Why did you wait until now to show him?

Mor knew, Feyre knew, and Nesta knew. That was it. Besides that, you kept it to yourself. You had accepted it as a part of you, but you still wanted only those closest to you knowing about it.

Yet Azriel was the closest, and he still didn’t know.

You had never met another male—or person—that you weren’t afraid of in one way or another. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, you knew he wouldn’t leave you, and you knew his soul better than your own.

He had never seen you naked, but that felt fleeting. Unimportant. He had seen enough of you to know you.

This was the last piece. The final step.

“Y/N?” Mor asked, and your head cleared. “Please try and stay in the moment as best as you can. I promise tonight will be perfect.”

She looked equally as stunning—an emerald dress highlighting her golden locks, as well as diamond earrings that shimmered in the moonlight. You smiled at her, feeling lucky to call her your friend. A true friend.

“Thank you Mor,” you replied. “It’ll be perfect for you too. You deserve it.”

She smiled, surely imagining the dance she saved for tonight, and she nodded her head.

“Now let’s go,” she said, ushering you out of the room. You laughed as she did this, and a sprout of hope began to bloom in your chest, covering your lakes of doubt with its shade.

I’m excited, you told yourself. So fucking excited.

~*~

“You should try it Az, really,” Cassian continued. “You’d think it wouldn’t hurt, but my eyes watered like a babe.”

Azriel scoffed a laugh, feeling a small smile come onto his face.

Cassian took this as his in, his deep chuckle echoing up the stairs. “I’m serious! You’re laughing now, but I guarantee—”

It was then that a different noise began to echo, sprinkling down the stairs like snow. It was more rare and priceless to him than a jewel.

Your real, genuine, laughter.

He pictured how your head would be thrown back slightly, a maneuver he had only gotten out of you a few times, and how bright your eyes would turn.

He wasn’t ready. Not at all.

“Here they come,” Cassian said, straightening his shoulders. Azriel did the same, feeling a bead of sweat drip down his back. His brain went faster than he could keep up, causing his throat to close. He pictured every little detail on his body, hoping and praying he looked good enough for you.

It was when he brought his hand up to his mouth, checking the smell of his breath quickly at the risk of you seeing his hand, that Cassian broke out into a smile.

And there you were.

He knew, in that moment, that the Mother hadn’t cursed him. The Cauldron wasn’t wrong. They just needed time to craft you, making you into the closest thing that there was to them as they could. He needed to experience his grief, his regrets, his pain, to make you that much more of a gift.

You had to be a goddess. You had to be.

And he was one lucky bastard, because you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

~*~

Your second thought as you walked down the stairs, taking note of the way your heels hit the wood to avoid smashing your face in, was how lucky you were for the angle. There was no way anyone on the floor would see your back.

Your first thought, however, was how waterproof the eye-makeup Mor gave you was.

The most beautiful male you had ever seen in your life was staring at you—staring at you—with lips opened wide enough to see the tips of his teeth. You knew him well enough to know that that was the equivalent of his jaw hitting the floor.

Tears misted your eyes, dribbling onto your lower lashes, at the sight of how hard he tried. His hair was tidy, his skin was clean, and his hair was fluffed just how you liked it to be. He wore a shade of black so dark it mixed in with his shadows, bringing out the golden-tones of his eyes. The material hugged his body perfectly, so perfectly that he definitely got it fitted.

You assumed he got his midnight blue pocket square as well, the exact color of your dress.

You almost froze on the steps, but some force inside of you was pulling you to him, so you kept walking.

You made it to the bottom of the staircase, and he was still standing there for you. As stiff as a board, his wings tucked in respectfully, like a king waiting for his queen.

Was that how he saw you?

“You look gorgeous Y/N,” Cassian said, but you could barely snap away from Azriel’s eye-contact.

Your eyes darted to his. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

He stepped up to you and brought your hand to his mouth, pecking it gently. “Thank you.”

He stepped to the side, giving a similar comment to Mor, so you got a full view of Azriel again, who was shooting darts with his gaze into the back of Cassian’s head.

You smiled, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

If looks could kill.

Azriel quickly looked back to you and scanned you from head to toe, still keeping his hands behind his back. The anger in his body relaxed, and he released a breath from his mouth.

“You are—” he started, unable to finish. Beautiful wasn’t even close to enough. “You are…stunning Y/N.”

You smiled, feeling heat crawl up your neck.

“Thank you, Azriel” you responded. You never called him Az. Not once. You liked the feeling of his full name on your tongue. “You are as beautiful as ever.”

He swallowed, looking down at his feet. That word always made him turn shy on you, and you reveled in it. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

You smiled, seeing the blush on his tan skin. The awkwardness felt juvenile, but it was the most alive you felt in days. It almost made you forget about your throbbing scar.

Almost.

“Shall we?” Azriel asked, holding out his elbow. His hands rested awkwardly against his lower back, but you didn’t mind. You smiled even wider and looped your hand through it, allowing him to escort you to the rest of the Inner Circle. You stood close enough to him so that your back was impossible for him to see without straining his neck, and you got a whiff of your favorite smell in the world.

You repeated Mor’s words like a mantra. Stay in the moment. Tonight will be perfect.

It would surely be interesting.

~*~

Azriel had never been filled with so much awe and dread at the same time.

He couldn’t even fucking glance at you without his knees threatening to crumble him to the floor, but at the same time, he had never been more on edge. His hands danced from his back to his pockets to your waist. They never moved even remotely close to your eyesight, which was a feat in itself.

He knew this was your first Starfall. He knew how excited you were for this moment, and he really fucking hoped his behavior wasn’t the reason you were acting so stiff and…touchy. It was like you were keeping him attached to your side by his shoulder, refusing to let him get a glance at any more than just your front. Even when you slow-danced to the music, you didn’t seem comfortable with tucking your head underneath his chin or leaning on his shoulder. The two of you had slow-danced before, leaning into each other much more intimately, but your body language told him otherwise.

He wondered if you didn’t like the way the dress hugged your figure, or that you were so anxious to see the stars you didn’t know what to do with your body. Either way, all he wanted to do was see all of you. Feel all of you, and tell you how beautiful every inch of you looked under the moonlight.

He could call you much more poetic things than “stunning.” He could already feel Cass never letting that one go.

Nevertheless, after your dance, you slowly backed away from him, giving him a sinful view of your perfect bust.

“I’m going to grab a drink. Would you like one?”

He shook his head. “No thank you. I’d like to dance with you again, if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you said breathlessly. “Yes I would. I will meet you after this song.”

“Great,” he said, and your eyes darted behind him for barely a second before Mor was calling his name.

“Azriel, you’ve got to have a drink on Starfall. It’s tradition!”

He nodded to her, politely, and when he turned around you were nowhere to be found.

He exhaled, frustrated, and closed his eyes.

He should’ve known he’d fuck this up too.

~*~

The fresh night air cooled your dewy skin brilliantly, allowing you to get some much needed oxygen into your lungs.

What the Hel were you thinking?

He was so close, so fucking close to seeing it, and you knew he could read your behavior like a book. He was the Spymaster for Cauldron’s sake, how couldn’t he have noticed?

You leaned on the railing of the balcony, trying to listen to Mor, trying to be in the moment, but it wasn’t working.

Why couldn’t you just love that part of you? Why did you feel the need to hide it, from him of all people? Why couldn’t you just enjoy Starfall like everyone else?

You couldn’t even dance with the male you loved without ruining it. Ruining everything.

You should have known you’d fuck it up.

Your dress felt too tight, your head was pounding too loud, and you tried desperately to stop the tears, but they always came. You felt the familiar ache in your throat from holding back your cries, and the wind from the brisk night sent chills down your spine.

You heard music, singing, and laughter down the street. You really wish you didn’t. You wished you could just join in. Be normal. Be understood.

Nothing felt more impossible.

You rubbed your fingers on your temples, applying pressure to relieve your growing migraine. You thought about how cliché this all was—you got your perfect dress, your perfect dance, and now you were crying on a balcony in the middle of the night. The last thing you needed was your—

“Y/N?”

…knight in shining armor.

You were so in your head you didn’t feel him coming—a weird sixth-sense you always seemed to have with him—and you didn’t feel him watching you. Watching your panicked breaths, still in awe of how beautiful you looked completely raw.

You didn’t feel him move closer to the glass-door, getting a closer and closer view of how your skin reflected in the moonlight until finally—finally—he saw it. The piece of you you loved more than anything and yet hated. The piece of you that proved your love and courage, yet the scar on your skin that branded you for life.

He had to remind himself to breathe.

You knew he saw it, and your stomach turned inside out. The contents of your dinner threatened to spill over.

You didn’t respond to his call; instead, you continued to face away from him, eyes locked on the buildings scattered across Velaris. The commotion inside and down the street still continued, but your senses felt dialed to zero. Your brain began to muddle, silencing everything but his movements and breaths.

The panic began to creep up your throat, paralyzing you, and more tears escaped you as he stepped closer and closer. His shoes scuffed along the hard floor, causing your knuckles to tighten around the railings.

“I—” you began, wanting to explain everything, but you felt the heat of his body suddenly hit the back of your own. That fucking cologne reached your nose yet again, and the feeling unique to Azriel’s presence wormed its way up your body.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Can I touch you?”

Your eyes widened, causing your sticky tears to stretch across your face, and a drop of heat rippled waves over your core.

How many times had you dreamed of those words in his voice?

“Yes,” you responded. Breathless.

A hand wrapped around your waist, pressing your back against his taut torso. You looked down, seeing how pretty his hand looked against you, and you swore to the gods your heart stopped.

Was that—

“Look my love,” he whispered into your ear, and placed his hands on top of your own, squeezing atop them lovingly.

“We’re the same.”

His hands were…scarred. Badly. It stretched up to his wrists, and your body shuddered at their vision. His squeezed the top of your hands a bit harder, grounding you to the railing.

“What—” you began. “What happened?”

He tucked his nose into your hair, breathing you in.

“My step-brothers,” he whispered. “They used fire. Thought it would be funny.”

You sniffled, licking your lips. More and more tears began to fall. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he mumbled into your neck, and kissed it firmly. His body against your own felt magnetic, and all you wanted to do was melt into it completely. Becoming one.

“What about yours?” he asked. “If you’re comfortable.”

You nodded and licked your lips once more. “It was when Devlon got me.”

You felt him stiffen and his breathing halt. His hands dug slightly into yours, not enough to hurt, but enough to feel his anger rise.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You squeezed down on the railing. “I didn’t know how.”

He took a deep breath in, looking at his large hands covering yours, and released it. Letting his anger go.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “It’s okay.”

You swallowed. “Was there a reason you didn’t tell me?”

He started rocking you side to side, not responding for some time. You bathed in the feeling of him around you, feeling nothing else.

“I didn’t know how either.”

You smiled grimly, not knowing what to say. “I guess we are the same.”

He kissed your neck again. “In every way.”

And there it was—understanding. The one thing you craved your whole life. You had it.

You didn’t know what else to do but lean further into him and bask in it.

You looked up at the stars and spirits beginning to make their way across the sky, expecting to be blinded by their beauty. You had pictured this day since you were a child—their silver tails, the glittering stars, their never-ending brightness.

But nothing felt better than this embrace. Nothing.

You picked your right hand up from the railing and brought Azriel’s hand to your mouth, kissing down to his wrist. He began breathing huskily in your ear. Only for you.

Chills ran down your spine at the thought of what you were about to admit.

“They’re beautiful Azriel,” you whispered into his hand. “Every part of you is.”

The breath in his throat caught, causing him to choke up, and you felt one of his tears drip down your neck. His pulse was so intense you could hear it.

He was struggling to find words—the right words—and you smiled.

You had caught the Spymaster of the Night Court off guard. You never thought you’d see the day.

Eventually he exhaled and fully hugged you from behind, and you felt his hand squeeze your own three times.

“You are so much more than stunning,” he mumbled. “So much more than beautiful. So much more than the stars in the sky.”

He pulled away, and whispered “stay” in your ear as he did. His hands slid from your own, and you felt suddenly bare. He had a full view of the expanse of your back now, and you didn’t know what he would think being so close to it.

He paused, scanning you, and you felt an urge to turn around and shake him, screaming say something.

He didn’t. Instead, the back of his scarred hand traced down your own scar, and you couldn’t help the almost erotic breath that left you.

The gravity of what he was doing hit you like a wave, and you couldn’t help the small cry released from your mouth.

His scar met your own all the way down to the bottom of your spine before he bent down and traced it with kisses, all the way back up to the middle of your shoulder blades.

“I love you Y/N,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to the back of your head.

The Starfall in front of you could have been a portal to another dimension for all you cared. Nothing would have stopped you from turning to face him, smiling wider than you had all night.

“I love you Az—” you began, but were interrupted by his hands framing your face and his lips pressed against yours.

You had kissed before, mostly pecks with some longer ones in-between, but this was different. This was acceptance of every inch of each other, down to the most minute detail.

His hair weaved in between your fingers as your lips molded to his. He tasted of cider and lemon—surely from the dessert table—and his hands tilted your head up just so. He mapped your mouth out with his own, and the songs within your souls found their match.

You wished you could bottle this moment in time and show it to your past self.

Look, you would tell her. We made it.

We made it.

You whimpered when he pulled away, already pulling him back in by his suit coat, but he just grinned. He memorized your blown-out eyes and swollen lips, feeling his insides melt at the sight, and you smiled up at him, the stars falling behind you making you ethereal.

Nothing else mattered but the sight of you, and he knew, in that moment, that everything would work out for him.

Everything.

Tag list: (if you’d like to be added to any of my tag lists, please let me know! I apologize if your name is not added or not working)

@leahkenobi @azsazz @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen123 @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @sayhitomommy @wickedazriel @xxpeachyxo @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @evlynclia @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @red-highlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhore @mystic-scripture @wolfyland07 @are-y0u-sirius @hilism @tooobsessedstuff @simplysensually @hernameispia @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @i-am-fascinated @seraphimluxe @just-living5

#amren #huge azz #azs azz #azriel and you #azriel/reader #azriel angst #azriel x you #azriel fluff #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #acosf headcannon #gwyn acotar #acotar #acosf fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #cassian fluff #rhysand #feyre archeron #morrigan #elain archeron #nesta archeron #inner work #sarah j maas #tog imagine

[azsluttyslut]

Born to die

Azriel x f!reader

TW: blood, violence, angst, fluff, near death experience.

Word count: 3883

Azriel POV

-Flashback-

Feet don't fail me now

Take me to the finish line

Oh, my heart it breaks every step that I take

But I'm hoping that the gates, they'll tell me that you're mine

He was corner there was no fucking scape, but all he could think about was that least his mate was safe, his only comfort at the moment, lovely (Y/N), always so sweet and caring. “It had my absolute honor to had been with her for the last 60 years” he thought to himself still fighting for his life.

The tried to fight as best as he could, the trained for situations like this his whole life, so he pushed himself harder, Azriel's only goal to see his mate at leat one more time, she deserves to know how much he love, his absolute everything. So that’s what he did, and killed soldiers under Koschie command left and right, but there was no point, they were everywhere and he was losing power, strength and he was so fucking exhausted, this was a losing game. That was until he felt a surge of power, he have never experienced that much power, not even from his brother and High Lord.

It was astonishing how can that blast killed every soldier around him, he himself wasn’t sure how he survived, it was like they melted, all the gore of the soldiers that were surrounding him was everywhere it was a a goo of blood, skin and bones. When Azriel turn around to see who was the person that save him, he couldn’t believe his eyes, his beautiful mate was there, she has never told Azriel about her powers, he never pushed her too afraid to say the wrong thing, she just told him that it brought bad memories and it was her trauma to bear. But watching her use her powers just so she can save Azriel it made him love her even more and for a moment it brought him this sense of peace, it was as if the Mother told him that everything was going to be okay, that this moment even as short as it was, was just one of many to come.

But that sense of peace went as quickly as it came. Because the moment he took a step forward to reach her, in a blink of an eye there was a one of the enchanted soldiers behind here, and before he can voice that, a fucking sword with faesbane was passing through her stomach and the feeling of pain he feel through the bond brought him to his knees and he scream, and scream, and in pure act of willingness only fuel by his anger he killed all around his path until he got to her, screaming and cursing the Mother for being so cruel moments. And then everything went black.

It could be days, or months he didn’t care how much time it passed since he last was conscious, not after the moment he woke up and everything came crashing down. He tried to reach for the bond but the was nothing. Not even his shadows were with him. He didn’t know to much time passed until Rhys came to the healing chambers to check on Azriel.

“Hello Brother, I'm happy to see you finally awake” he just stared at him blankly,the numbness consumed every finer of his body, he knows Rhysand went through the same but at least Feyre came back, instead he watch his mate died, he felt the pain and sure as hell he still feels the void in his chest, his very soul were once was a gold thread, full of love, joy and fulfilment. And as if reading his mind that Azriel is almost sure he did, he says “ she’s not dead, brother”.

-End of the flashback-

Walking through the city streets

Is it by mistake or design?

I feel so alone on the Friday nights

Can you make it feel like home if I tell you you're mine?

It's like I told you, honey (louder)

It’s been a month since the day Azriel woke up, and you are still unconscious, Rhys told him his shadows haven’t left you sight, that brought him a bit of confort. The loneliness consumed his already tormented soul, he never felt this alone in his life, not even when he was a child in the care of those bastards.

Madja doesn’t know when you are going to wake up, but they are sure you will, maybe they are saying that just to make him feel better, he doesn’t know at this point, the void that is the bond wights on him everyday, they won the war but he just feels lost.

Rhys encourage him to seek help with one of Madja's mental health healers, they told him that maybe if he does things that you both used to do together would make him feel better, but walking around Velaris without you it makes him feel empty. Not even your house in the suburbs feels like home, that’s where he made you his, when he devoted himself to you, and the memories are too much, too unbearable without you.

•1 week later•

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

The memories haunt Azriel like a plague everyday, all the laughs you share, the kisses, the all nighters, both of you getting drunk and high because you were bored. The memories playing in his head stopped the moment he felt the golden thread, all this time it’s has been a dim almost white, a white that made him feel hopeless, but right now it’s recovering color as if you were healing and recovering consciousness.

The tears blinded his eyes and the sob of relief that leaves his mouth, his entire body shook with the force of the sobs. He couldn’t stop the only thoughts running through his mind was “Y/N is waking up”, but even if that was true he could bring himself to go to see you. He couldn’t make himself be hopeful, and knew the only people that could help were his brothers.

Rhys! Rhys! RHYS!! BRING CASSIAN!

Rhysand appeared within seconds with Cassian in tow ready to attack, nothing would prepared them for the sight that greeted them. Azriel looked like a fallen angel, with tears streaming down his cheeks, face blotchy, red eyes, trembling body and slumped wings.

“Are you okay?” Cassian ask his voice frantic, searching for anything, they have never seen ghe shadowsinger like this, in all the years of friendship, he has never been the emotional friend, the only time Azriel cried beside when he was a kid was when Rhys came home form under the Mountain. He still remembers the grief of losing his brother and not been able to do anything to help. But that pain was minuscule compared to the thought and feeling of losing you.

“Az what’s happening? You are scaring us” Cassian voice make Azriel snaps out of his grieving thoughts, the tears and sobs don’t stop, he can bring himself to stop feeling.

“T-the bond” the sobs that leaves his mouth shooks his whole body, not even been able to form coherent sentence, the warlord and the high lord look at each other without knowing what to say, not knowing how to approach this topic.

“What about the bond” Rhys ask carefully, too carefully to the spymaster liking, but he doesn’t care, he feels the bond recovering it’s power, it makes his soul mend just a fraction.

“It- it’s not dim anymore” Both males sigh in relief “Rhys, I need you to check her, I-I can’t, I can’t get my hopes up, please” Rhysand gives Azriel a court nod and his gaze become distant, meaning that he’s asking Feyre. After about 10 minutes that felt like an eternity, Rhys has a small smile while looking at his broken brother. Stepping closer so he can comfort him while explaining what Feyre told him.

“She’s regaining consciousness, Madja said any of this days she would be awake again” After that the shadowsinger didn’t stopped crying of relief until he feel asleep. Cass and Rhys stayed the night, making sure that Adriel was okay.

-Flashback-

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane, so (louder)

Choose your last words, this is the last time

'Cause you and I, we were born to die

The night before the last battle it was raining, while you and your mate were at your tent, cuddle up.

“Let’s take a walk” Y/N said with those (e/c) eyes that the spymaster love to get lost in. And he knew he could never say no to those eyes while they look at him as if he’s the only person on earth, Azriel always tends to agree to whatever you wants, this time it wasn’t any different. He loves the spontaneous things you do, sometimes some of the things you wants to do border insanity, but he loves every aspect of his mate. So without a thought he took your hand while leading you outside.

“Angel be careful it’s raining, I don’t want you to get sick” the shadowsinger said, he knows fae don’t get sick easily but he always worry about you. Your only response was only a snort of laughter, and oh boy! how he love that sound.

“Az, you know as well as I do, fae don’t get sick easily, why don’t we dance in the rain, and just listen to the pattern of the rain” Your eyes glowed with joy as you looked at him expectantly, he didn’t hesitate in taking your hand and dragging you until we are chest to stomach, while you start to sway with his hands on your hips and yours around his neck, with your head laid on Azriel chest.

The shadowsinger couldn’t stop watching you, admiring more likely, he didn’t take his eyes away even while they were swaying to the sound of the rain and the latter soaking your clothes, but after some time he couldn’t contain himself and kissed you as hard as he could pouring all his love and devotion he feel for you, sending it through the bond and through the kiss. After that you two went back to the tent, drop the wet clothes and he showed you how much he loves you throughout the night.

But in the morning the bubble you’d encompass yourselves in exploded, because of how Rhys made the strategy for the last battle.

“Azriel I don’t care if Rhysand gave you the order or not, you will not be standing in the fucking front lines, I swear to the mother you cross that tent and…” Yelling got you nowhere with Adriel Y/N knew that as much, but even then he could still see the fear you held of the idea of him on the front. But his anger overpowered his common sense.

“Or what? Are you going to do what? (Y/N) this is for the best, I know how to protect myself, I know my limit. This is for our future, so yes I’m going to cross that tent because this is who I am, this is who was raised to be, born to be, if I have to die there knowing that you are safe, then my mission is done” and without another word he left the tent, your tent were his mate was left crying.

But to Azriel's saddened heart in middle of the battle he realized you never gave each other the kiss before battle, it was a non spoken deal between the two, it was their “I’ll be waiting for you to come back, please come back”. But it was too late, and the words exchange between the two in those last moments left a bitter taste on Azriel's tongue.

-End of the flashback-

Y/N POV

•1 week later•

Lost but now I am found

I can see that once I was blind

I was so confused as a little child

Tryna take what I could get

Scared that I couldn't find

All the answers, honey (louder)

My body feels like it’s on fire, I can’t even open my eyes, every nerve, every muscle in my body hurts, is this the after life? I thought that when you died you don’t feel any pain. But oh gods! I feel like I was crushed under a fucking mountain. Cauldron fucking boil me alive! The only thing that I feel apart from the agonizing pain in my body are the scattering caresses of what I think are Az's shadows.

A groan leaves my lips, as I tried my hardest to open my eyes to the blinding light that comes from the window, as if sensing my discomfort almost all of the shadows surround the room in darkness, while the others hurried vanished out of the room to probably alert Azriel and the inner circle. I don’t remember what happened, my last memory was the night before battle that me and mate dance in the rain, followed up to have the most tender and loving sex with Az. I feel so lost, with so many questions.

The sound of hurried footsteps getting closer bring me back from my scattering thoughts, a second later my beautiful mate appears in all his glory, but he looks terrible, not in a bad way, Azriel is the most gorgeous male I’ve ever seen, he couldn’t be ugly even if he tried. But there are circles under his eyes as if he hasn’t sleep in forever, his cheekbones are more prominent and he looks like he lost some pound and muscle. What the hel happened?

He looks frantic throughout the room as if some broke in, but that is until his gaze land on me. He lunges himself at me while breaking down with sobs. I tried to move to comfort him but my body is not cooperating. Not even my voice is functioning. Azriel's sobs break my heart and I think he feels it because he looks and me with tears in his eyes.

“You are alive” he looks at me as if he hasn’t seen me in years “you are okay” he repeats the same thing as mantra, as if trying to convince himself this is real. I tried to speak but no words come out. He sense this and rushes to bring you a glass of water, you gulp it down and the refills it again and again until your throat doesn’t feel like sand anymore.

“Hello my love” my voice comes out scratchy like I haven’t used it in a long time, at the pet name my mate's eyes fill with tears again. “what happened?”

“I promise, I’m going to tell you anything you want to know, baby, but I need to alert Madja you are awake, okay?” He caress my hair, my face touching everything part of me that he can, I’m able to give him a small nod, while his eyes become distant probably telling Rhys to call Madja.

Madja came ask questions while checking my body, always questioning where it hurts, what’s the last I remember, and told me not ask what happened, that my memories will be back in time, and asking would affect the currency of them, after a while she gave strict orders to all my family that I’m to stay in bed for at least a week more, that I need to regain my energy and my weight, and not to exhaust myself, while also giving Azriel some viles that help with the pain.

The week I was in bed all my family make sure I was taken care of, even Amren took care of me, that was weird, I’ve never seen her be so soft with someone, and that includes Varian, Mor and Feyre were as usual always fussing about anything I needed, Cassian and Rhys always made sure I was comfy enough and bringing me gifts and food, Cassian brought me a lot of books, courtesy of Ness, and sometimes Nests came to check up on me. And Azriel well he never left my side and when he did he made sure to leave his shadows with me even if he was to leave one minute.

Elain is another story altogether, since she was made, she took a liking to my mate, I don’t blame her Az is the sweetest most precious soul that I’ve ever known and because of that he indulged her, not intentionally, he just wanted to help her getting used to her new life, which gave her the impression that he was interested, and when she tried to make a move and he rejected her, she almost attacked me, blaming me that I stole Azriel for her. And while her sisters were on my side, they couldn’t let her sister's side either. Since then my relationship with the Acheron middle sister is non existent.

Don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

After I was given the good to go by Madja, Az help me with training, giving me small exercises to regain strength, while always making sure I was okay and drinking enough water. I tried to talk to him about what happened with me, but every time I tried it was fruitless, is like all his walls shot up and he becomes a shell of himself, he has nightmares most nights and when he wakes up he makes sure I’m breathing and then proceeds to hold me tight trough out the night.

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane, so (louder)

Choose your last words, this is the last time

'Cause you and I, we were born to die

As Madja said the memories will be recovered with time, they did and I remember everything, the night before battle, the fight before battle and the moment I saved my mate for being killed to me being stabbed by a faesbane coverd sword. And even though I remember all the traumatic events, one thing is echoing in my head. Azriel last words before battle “…this is who I am, this is who was raised to be, born to be, if I have to die there knowing that you are safe, then my mission is done” it’s like he thinks himself as a weapon, he always did, but I thought we were past that.

“Love, are you okay?” Azriel’s melodic voice breaks through my thoughts, making me snap my eyes to his hazel almost gold eyes. His scarred fingers wipe gently my under eyes, I didn’t know I was crying until that moment.

“Az, do you still see yourself as a weapon?” I look straight into his eyes, but when he adverts his eyes, I got my answer. “You know, we talked about that for years, I thought that you didn’t see yourself that way anymore” I say gently.

“I know, trust me I know, but when the war began and everything happened, my only thought was that I have to keep you safe, and if that means be a weapon, t-then so be it” his voice breaks at the end “when you saved me I couldn’t be more proud to call you my mate, I was so ready to run to you, and hold you, but the moment that that soldiers s-stabbed you, I-I lost it, I didn’t even realized more soldiers were approaching me, but it was like my brain knew and I killed them all just to get to you” A few tears scape his eyes, with shaky fingers I cup his face and wipe them, his eyes look up at mine, and all the pain I see there breaks my heart.

A sob scapes my lips when I tried to talk, taking a deep breath I tried again “We are stronger than this baby, we are going to go through this together as we always do, and if I have to remind you every day for the rest of our lives that you are not a weapon, that you are worthy, and wroth living for, I will, always, but you have to promise me that you will try, and never give up on you, on us” I tell him, resting me forehead against his, while looking deep in his eyes. His chin quivers with, and tears wet his eyelashes. Azriel gives me a nod while chanting “I promise” over and over again.

We were born to die

(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)

We were born to die

A pain prickles my neck making me hiss and my mate's heveas a hiss of his own while touching his neck, my eyes look at his neck looking at a tattoo, a skull with wings, “The Angel of Death”, that’s what that means, what they used to called in the Court of Nightmares. My power, death in every shape or form. My fingers trace the portrayal of our promise mark on our skins. His eyes adverts to my neck, looking at what I know is my tattoo, it’s a skull with truth-teller he says, while shaky breaths and broken voice.

“Please don’t leave me again” he says after a few moments “I wouldn’t know how to bear with that, the past month and a half, it was hel” his eyes plead with me.

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane

I gave him a reassuring smile, crashing my lips with his, in a silent promise that everything is going to be fine, that we are going to do this together. Whatever long it takes. That I have him as he has me. That our love is unconditional and strong. That we will have again moments like the one we had before battle. And specially that we will be together to whatever life throws at us. And I’m that moment draped in each others arms, everything feels right.

So, don't make me sad, don't make me cry

Sometimes love is not enough

And the road gets tough, I don't know why

Keep making me laugh

Let's go get high

The road is long, we carry on

Try to have fun in the meantime

Come and take a walk on the wild side

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

You like your girls insane, so (louder)

Choose your last words, this is the last time

'Cause you and I, we were born to die

We were born to die

(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)

We were born to die

Why? (Got that?)

Who, me? (Louder)

(We were born to die, we were born to die, we were born to die)

Why? (Got that?)

Fin.

A/N: well as I said I’m new to this, I hope you enjoy, I accept constructive criticism and feedback. Thank you and sorry for any grammar errors 🫶🏼

#shadowsinger x reader #azriel angst #azriel #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #rhysand #cassian #acotar #acotar series #feyre archeron #morrigan #amren #elain archeron

[maisonaime]

Masterlist

Color coding: Angst & Hurt/Comfort, Smut/Romance, Fluff, Dark

***specific warnings and ratings will be at the front of each part — but fair to assume most will be intended for mature audiences***

To be added to the tag list for any of my fics fill out this form!

ACOTAR 🩶🏔️

Multi-part

Ilithyia’s Blessings [Feysand Pregnancy Rewrite] - Part 1;  Part 2; Part 3; Part 4

Give and Take [Cass x Reader] - Part 1

One-shot

The Star Who Listened [Azriel x Reader] Starfall Week 2024

If I am a branch on a tree, will I snap or will I burn? [Azriel/Nesta friendship]

Patience is a Virtue [Azriel x Reader]

Beautiful Agony [Azriel x Reader blurb]

Crescent City ❤️🌙

One-shot

Alma Mater [Bryce/Danika friendship]

Note a couple of things quickly before you read or comment on my work: 

Antis from any camp will be deleted unless you’re making a valid coherent criticism of a character, I don’t need or want your negativity, long-winded arguments and terrible takes. There’s no reason to be anti-any characters. It’s reductive to the complexity of the story and the characters themselves. Same goes for the ship wars: I want no part of it, I’m a multi-shipper.

If you’re confused or curious about something I wrote, my asks are open for a reason! I’m always happy to share more about where my head is at or clarify why I included something – especially when I take my writing to a darker place. If you repost pieces of my work without credit to misconstrue the meaning without allowing people to form their own opinions, you will be reported. 

Assume unless otherwise stated that I’m operating on MY headcanons for the characters, i.e. OOC. I don’t believe that any fanfiction can be truly canonical because we’re each projecting our own experiences and interpretations onto the characters. The original writer is the only person who can write/determine canon for their stories.

Please remember you’re reading fiction, like literal fantasy. If you don’t like it move on, the internet is so wide. 

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE!!!!!!! Let me know if I am missing a warning you think should be included. My last intention would be for anyone to feel blindsided with something sensitive in my writing. I will always be open to constructive criticism and new ideas!

Much love and happy reading! 🩷🍾

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar masterlist #acotar smut #acotar angst #feyre #rhysand #azriel #cassian #morrigan #amren #sarah j maas #acotar crack #fantasy #nesta archeron #elain archeron #azriel x reader #cassian x reader #throne of glass #crescent city

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Princess

One of the series I'm currently working on, hope you enjoy it. I’ll be posting every second day until I make more progress so I can post every day.

Azriel x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary; Reader is Mor’s new friend that she found in the winter court while she was away for business. Y/n has been raised as a princess since her parents wanted to wed her to a noble fae in order to climb the social ranks. When her parents are brutally murdered y/n is left alone without a clue about the harsh reality or the brutality of the world. Mor finds her and takes her back to Velaris afraid of what might happen to her if she was left to live on her own. Will y/n survive the hate she will receive from certain members of the inner circle -including her mate- regarding the way she grew up?

Warnings; angst, mentions of abuse and death, swearing, smut(18+)

Any chapter that contains smut will be marked with *

Series masterlist

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14 (coming soon)

If you like my work send your requests. It will be my pleasure to deliver your fantasies with a touch of my own. Bat boys requests are welcome! 🖤🦇

#acotar #acotar series #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x reader #feyre archeron #rhysand #cassian acotar #cassian #nesta x cassian #nessian #amren acotar #amren #amren x reader #inner circle #nesta #mor acotar #acotar fanfiction #nesta archeron

[redbleedingrose]

Always pt 1

Azriel x Reader

Authors note: okay so this was my first time writing anything so I am sure this is a mess. If you have any advice, let me know and please be kind. Also idk why this is spaced out weird, so sorry about that!!

Part 2

Warnings: angst, first time writing so please be gentle with any criticism.

Word count: ~950

Summary: You and Azriel have been best friends for years after you joined the inner circle as the top healer in Velaris. But with Elain and Nesta’s recent arrival, Azriel has begun to ignore your friendship in favor of being together with Elain. You are heartbroken, and it is Starfall where you will be confined in the house of wind with Azriel and Elain. Everything will be okay though… right?

Rhys had invited all of the members of the inner circle to the house of wind to watch Starfall. Just as you were finishing your shift, stitching up a young boy’s forehead after he had fallen and bashed his head on the cobblestone street, Cassian strolled into the healing center to fly you up to the house. “You work even on Starfall, do you ever relax Y/N?,” he grinned, announcing himself. “Much to your disappointment Cass,” you turned towards him, shooting him a grin of your own, “I am always busy trying to heal people, especially idiots like you.” You realized the both of you needed to head out soon if you were going to make it to the house on time. Mother help you if you were late; Mor would have your head, especially after her warning you about being late. You still needed to take a bath, and then Mor would help you do your hair and makeup.

After packing your things, you both waved at Majda, saying your goodbyes, strolling outside only to see Velaris was in a state of celebration; the shops in the Rainbow were filled with males and females doing their last minute shopping for gifts, children were running around with sweets in their hands, parents shouting at them to slow down, and the cafe’s were filled with boisterous laughter and conversation. “Are you ready for tonight y/n? Do you need to pick up anything from your apartment before I take you to the house?,” Cass prodded. It was almost strange seeing him be so careful with you, usually being the loud and outgoing person he normally was. He had caught you drowning your sorrows at Rita’s and pleaded that you tell him what was going on. You confided in him of your feelings toward Azriel. About how you have known for a while how much you love and adore him. About him first pining for Mor, and now pining for Elain. About how hard it has been coping with seeing Elain and Azriel together. About how it has never been you that Azriel has been interested in. About how you understood why Azriel would pick Mor or Elain over you. About how you were literally breaking from the inside, and you didn’t know how much more you could take. Thereafter, Cass had been extra cautious and gentle with you, and had promised not to spill a word to anyone about anything after you practically went on your knees begging him not to.

Usually, any struggle or problem or pain you had would end up with you at Azriel’s door in the middle of the night, where you would end up laying in bed and talking and talking and talking until one of you fell asleep. He was your source of comfort; his scent of spearmint and eucalyptus, his shadows that always seemed so excited to see you, quickly wrapping around your wrist with a cool touch before he reigned them in, his calming and quiet aura that soothed you to no end, his everything. He never turned you away either, always welcoming you in with open arms. Whether you needed someone to talk to or someone to just sit in silence with, he was there. And it was always the same with you; after difficult missions, he would show up at your apartment silently entering with the key you had given him years ago. You would heal him from any injuries he had, standing between his feet as he sat on your counter without so much as a whisper coming out of either of your lips, and eventually you would end up on the couch, or the bed, or even the floor and fall asleep after hours of discussing absolutely nothing, after hours of discussing absolutely everything.

That’s how things had been for decades up until Elain and Nesta showed up; suddenly, Azriel was too busy for you. Too busy to stop by in the middle of the day and take you out for lunch on the Sidra. Too busy to come to you after missions Rhys would send him on. Too busy to acknowledge you whenever you were in the same room as him and Elain. It was almost as if your friendship never existed, and he had no idea how much it was hurting you. And honestly, you couldn’t blame him. Elain was this soft and ethereal beauty who had been nothing but kind to everyone, even you. She struggled to adjust to fae life, and Azriel being the compassionate male he was, helped her in every way he could. And whenever you saw them together, the smitten look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know. Everything you didn’t want to know. Everything you wished wasn’t true. Everything that you wished for yourself. And all you could do was sit back as you watched the love of your life fall for another.

“I’m okay Cass, seriously, don’t worry yourself about me. All my gifts are at the house, and I think Mor should have everything set up by the time we get there,” you sighed, already dreading the night that was to come. He grasped your shoulder, pulling you into a tender hug. Resting your head on his chest, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to stifle the lump that was developing in your throat. He held you for a couple more seconds before pulling back and whispering, “It is going to be okay, whatever happens tonight, you will be okay. I promise.” Nodding, you let him pull you in again, this time spreading out his wings and pushing off the ground to fly you back to the house.

Tagging @fieldofdaisiies in case you have any tips or comments. Wrote this just because you encouraged me so hopefully you like it a little 🤞🏽

#azriel x reader #acotar fanfic #acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #azriel #rhysand #rhys acotar #nesta archeron #elain archeron #cassian #azriel fanfic #angst #first time writing #please be gentle with me #feyre cursebreaker #morrigan #amren acotar #i suck at writing i’m sorry #writing #fan fiction #acotar fanfiction

[ellievickstar]

Another Kind of Love

Summary: With Azriel’s terrible track record with females of course another one would not be any different….right?

Ship: Azriel x Reader, Cassian x sister!reader

Genre: angst ends in fluff

Warnings: Insecurities, over bearing males, self-hate, comparing self with others

Inspiration: I thought about making this inspired by the song “Heart breaker” but decided against it and now this.

A/N: @cityofidek I hope you like it and to everyone else who does not understand a word of the story. I didn’t proof read it I actually don’t proof read any of my work so good luck I know when it’s POVs it is technically 3rd person but bear with me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassian’s POV:

Cassian had to watch it all. From Gwyn to Mor to one of the Archeron sisters. His brother certainly could not choose. He was frustrated with his brother because he knew that Azriel more then anyone deserved to be happy. Cassian himself had Nesta, Rhysand had Feyre, Amren had Varian and Elain had opted for Lucien in the end.

Cassian sighed before pinching his nose when suddenly a letter appeared in front of him. It was from his sister:

Dear Cass,

I know it has been a while since the war. The female legions are going home for the Winter Solstice and to spend time with their families before coming back in two weeks. I’m going over to the townhouse right now as I send this. Don’t worry big brother, I’ve already sent a letter to Rhys and please tell Az that I said hello! If you can even find him before I arrive.

Love,

Your still very lovable sister, Y/N

Cassian snorted at ‘lovable’. Annoying was a better word to describe the little scoundrel, but she and the rest of his brothers got along like family. Cassian had been given the young girl when she was a babe. All he was told was that she was his sister and that his mother wished for him to have her before the other Illyrians had killed her. One of her friends ran away with the baby to bring it to Cassian.

That was the same day he had gone berserk on the males who harmed his mother. But when he returned at the end of the day, he had held his sister in his arms, looked into those warm hazel eyes and he had known inside that he wanted to take care of her. Since then he taught her everything, how to fly, walk, handle her Illyrian power, even stick up to Devlon. She had delighted in the fact that she needed more siphons then him and Azriel, and he had pretended to be envious of the little girl, but inside all he really felt was sheer pride for the girl. Rhysand had also helped with her powers, she had been gifted similar powers to him so he spent his time training her, even though him and Rhysand was often at each other’s throats.

Then there was the blood week in the mountain….

He shuddered at the memory. She had succeeded, but she had been alone. Not like him, Az and Rhys. No she had gone up that damned mountain and had touched that stone alone. The will of a warrior, but the weeks he spent next to her, tending to her wounds that were so deep you could see bone…he did not want to think of it.

His sister was now a commander of her own legion, full of females. They were treated like males, fairly. They bonded well, the whole camp was sisters, in their own way. He smiled at the thought. His sister was able to build a whole camp to house many females. Not all, but it made an impact and to a lot of people that was enough. Not to her though, she always strived for more.

It wasn’t long before she came knocking on the townhouse’s door, Rhysand practically flung it open with a wild grin. She laughed as he enveloped her in the tightest hug before Cassian interrupted.

“You know she is supposed to be my sister,” He folded his arms as he leaned against the wall closest to them. She chuckled as he wrapped her arms around him, “To think you said you hated me,” “You drank the last bit of the wine I brought out!” She just burst into laughter again and slapped his forearm before hugging him, again.

Just then Azriel swept into the room, smiling for once as he took in the sight of her. “Where is my hug?” He teased as he opened his arms for her. They also got along, even when the three of them were adults and she was just a child there was always a click between the shadow singer and his sister.

That is ridiculous. Cassian thought to himself. Yes there is only a fifty year difference between them, but Azriel would never date my sister. However, as he watched his sister laugh with Az, he was not too sure about that. And the way Azriel looked at her…

No, Az could not like his sister, he would never allow that. Not when Azriel pines over someone new every other few decades. He looked over at his sister again, together with his almost-brother. They could not ever think to date each other, right?

Oh they absolutely could. Rhys’s voice echoed in his mind and he instantly glanced at the High Lord. Rhys just shrugged and continued to look at the pair that was still embracing each other, still. Annoyed, Cassian stepped in.

“Okay break it up, we get it,” He made his annoyance evident in his voice as he pulled them apart. “Don’t need to be jealous brother,” Y/N teased but that ticked him off more then she knew so he just glared at her. A general ordering his commander. Little did he think that he would find that the commander would fight right back. She glared at him, a challenge. She would tolerate his overprotectiveness especially after the wars but this, with her best friends, she would not stand for it.

Just as a brawl was about to start, the females of the inner circle came back from their little shopping trip for the winter solstice. Mor paused at the door before running to Y/N, the tears evident in her eyes. “I haven’t seen you since the war against Hybern!” Mor laughed as they hugged and cried. Feyre just stepped into the house, slightly confused, Nesta did not say anything and Amren just smirked at the woman slightly. That was when Cassian realised that the Acheron sisters had never really met his sister.

“Ladies, this is Y/N, my sister by blood,” Cassian stumbled over words as he glanced at Nesta, whose shoulders suddenly seemed to droop with relief, she smiled warmly at Y/N. Feyre’s eyes seemed to gleam before asking, “Older or younger?” Oh no. “I’m younger then Cassian by half a century,” Y/N’s smile was like a Cheshire Cat. “So you are familiar with annoying these brutes?” Feyre pushed further, her smile widening. Y/N looked just about ready to plot Cassian’s demise and he knew it, he gulped and so did Azriel and Rhysand. They were no stranger to her antics.

At least their getting along? Azriel spoke to them mind to mind. Rhysand rolled his eyes. Please they would get along regardless the only thing that would deter them would be if she ever caused us immense trauma.

Cassian furrowed his eyebrows before asking. Is causing us pain as children from all her mischief not trauma already? Azriel almost burst out laughing and Rhys’s shoulders shook with the effort. Feyre, being able to hear the whole conversation with her power shot them looks that might have killed them if she really tried.

Before long Y/N was tired and she needed to unpack her bags in the room that was usually for her when she came over. Which was not as often as before since she was busy after the war. Unfortunately, now she would be coming over a lot more since she promised Mor, despite the three Illyrian males’s protests.

Nuala and Cerridwen also had to interrupt the reunion because supper was almost done. So with the snap of her fingers Y/N’s bags was in her room and she was in her hoodie and pants. Contrasting to some people’s expensive taste in clothes, Y/N preferred hoodies, shirts, pull overs, jumpers and pants. There were times she wore skirts but only if she felt like it. Cauldron knows what happened the last time someone tried to force her into wearing something she did not want to wear.

Cassian huffed a laugh at the thought and followed the rest of the inner circle, and his mate, to supper.

Y/N POV:

Supper was as good as I remember especially with Nuala and Cerridwen cooking. The two wraiths had always been friends with me since I met them when Rhys first brought me to Velaris. They were also my favourite people to cook with, Mother knows the males cannot cook a meal to save their lives. No, they could only cook meat on a stick, over a fire. I had yet to thank Nuala and Cerridwen for keeping them alive.

Feyre and Nesta were absolute delights to be around, though Nesta was slightly protective of her mate. Understandably so but to think that I would ever date my brother of flesh and blood. Naseau rolled in my gut. Please, I would not even last a day, I would kick him out of the house.

Amren was as per usual, although she was Fae now, she still had that uncanny aura that made her terrifying, but of course I missed her. Cassian and Rhys were just as annoying as the last time they visited my camp but they have been for the past five centuries. I think I would be more afraid if they stopped bothering me all the time. Even when I was busy after the war and the cauldron, they still came by occasionally to make me go insane. And Azriel…

I looked at the shadow singer beside me and he flashed me a small smile before going back to eating, it made my heart flutter slightly, I chided myself. Azriel has liked so many other females, what makes you think he would like you? Might as well stop while you are ahead. Besides, your brother would kill you. Speaking of my brother, Cassian was wolfing down his food, lifting his head once in a while only to pick out bones from his meat just to toss them at me.

I would glare at him but he would ignore me. I knew if I told him to stop he would, but I did not say anything, I didn’t actually mind. Besides the fact that the bits of meat that stuck to the bone got matted in my hair sometimes. Cassian would never mind if I dated anyone, but his best friend and almost brother? Now that was cruel, or so says all my romance novels I enjoyed reading.

I sighed as I pushed around the remaining food on my plate.

“Y/N, are you not going to eat any more food? You barely touched anything,” Feyre asked, concern was evident but I shook my head. I had never eaten a lot as a child until now. It was a bad habit, yes, but it was what I was used to. I used to be insecure and there had been a time the lack of eating had stemmed from a fear of becoming overweight, but it was a really long time ago I figured that I just did not really like to eat.

“No, Feyre it’s fine the food is as good as I remember I just don’t eat a lot. You can ask the three males they have tried to force me to eat but I just don’t like eating in general,” I explained.

“Unless it’s chocolate,” Cassian chipped in.

“Or cookies,” Rhysand muttered.

“Or sandwiches but it has to depend on the day. Peanut butter is a good snack and she likes chocolate syrup the most during the night. However, if you touch the ice cream she most likely stored in the fridge she will and can slit your throat unless you promise to buy her more. Also for chocolate she prefers white because she finds dark way too bitter,” Azriel added. Well, added was an understatement.

I gaped at him. Not even Cassian knew so much about me especially about my snacking preferences. Rhysand looked positively delighted while Cassian was torn between throttling Azriel, being the overprotective brother he is, or laughing at the fact I was so defensive about ice cream. Azriel just continued to eat as if nothing happened. Feyre, Amren and Nesta shared what looked to be a knowing glance and I was confused.

Yes, Azriel knew a lot about me, apparently, but what was the big deal? I knew plenty about Azriel too, like how he preferred dark purple because it reminded him of Rhys especially during Amarantha’s reign. Azriel enjoyed his shadows because they usually whispered to him when he was lonely. There were times they got too overwhelming which were the days he brooded the most.

However, as much as I loved Azriel, secretly, for the past three centuries. He could never reciprocate my feelings, he could have any female in all of Velaris for cauldron’s sake! The thought made me sick, Azriel could never love me. Never.

I stood suddenly. Apologising, saying that I was tired from the journey here, since I could not winnow. And as I walked down the hallway, tears slid down my cheeks. Azriel could never be mine, it echoed in my soul, rung in my head.

“Wait, Y/N!” Azriel called, “You forgot your- are you crying?” And as I looked up at the male. The bond snapped into place and for a second hope flared in my heart but Azriel did not seem fazed at all. Then it hit me.

The bond had only snapped into place for me. Only for me.

Mother was cruel after all. Azriel’s eyes still flooded with that worry and I shook my head. “It’s nothing, I’m fine Az,” I tried so hard for my voice not to crack. Az did not seem convinced but he passed me my bracelet, the one that Cass had given me when I was younger which I had taken off for supper and had left at the table, before he strolled back to the table.

My mate, the bond was there when I reached down. And as I turned to my room and closed the door, I thanked the mother that at least I had one, even if he could never truly be mine.

I changed into my nightgown which was really just an oversized shirt that reached my knees and lay down for a bit, maybe tomorrow would be better.

THE NEXT DAY

I blinked against the steady stream of sunlight through the window. It was dawn, which meant that I needed to get up. I stretched my wings. Time to train. Changing into my Illyrian leathers, I tied my hair into braids, grabbed my weapons belt and brought along my favourite daggers.

Cassian was at the dining table eating breakfast with Azriel. I smiled at both of them, my gaze lingering on my mate before I took some chocolate and began to eat.

“That’s it?” Cassian asked. “For the Mother’s sake you’re going to train!” I shot him a look that promised a slow death if he said anything else, but he just shrugged and went back to eating.

It was not long before Cassian and I were sparring, Az long gone to spy on some court for Rhys.

“So,” Cassian started as dodged my attack, feigning right trying to hit my side but I easily avoided him, “Az tells me you were crying last night,” He blocked as I delivered a swift punch, aiming for his face.

“And?” I asked as ducked under his fist just to sweep my feet to cause him to lose balance, he did, just for a second but it counted as I attacked and he fell to the ground. I flexed my body, stretching my wings.

“Mind telling your brother why?” I shook my head as I took out my blade, flipping it in my palm. The blade was one of my favourites i had named it ‘mortifer’ Cassian had laughed at the name since it quite literally meant bringer of death. I sighed as I angled the blade, “It’s just that Az is-,” “For Azriel’s sake he better not have hurt you,” He but in as he sharpened his own sword.

I huffed out a breath, “Azriel is my mate,” I admitted. Cassian stilled. And like the very fiery Piet of a volcano, his eyes turned to molten lava.

Cassian’s POV:

There was a ringing in his head as he turned to his sister. No, no, no. She couldn’t actually be his best friend’s mate. But one look at his sister and he knew that she was not joking.

He was going to kill Azriel. Inside he knew that Azriel deserved happiness but his sister? That was a line, and they were toeing it. Unable to control his anger he flew back to the town house in a fit of rage as he called for Rhysand mind to mind, leaving his sister calling to him to get his ass back to the training ring. He was not thinking straight, he knew that but he didn’t care much.

DID YOU KNOW!? He yelled at Rhys through the mental link in their heads as he tried to search for the High Lord.

Did I know what? Rhysand asked disquiet was crystal clear in his voice.

My sister and our dear fried Azriel, who is going to die, are mates! Mates! He gritted his teeth as he flung open the final door in the town house where Rhys could have been but nothing. Rhysand seemed to be laughing and Cassian almost snarled, almost.

I’m happy for them but have you considered that Azriel doesn’t know? Rhys question flipped a switch in Cassian and he realised that he had left his sister alone, she was probably scared. He knew she could hold her own but he needed to go back, to help her. And maybe, just maybe, get answers.

Y/N POV:

Cassian had left in a fit of rage, probably to go throw a tantrum but I prayed to the cauldron he wouldn’t tell Azriel anything. The beat of wings could suddenly be heard from a distance and as my eyes looked to the sky, I huffed a sigh of relief as my brother came into view, landing in front of me. His face like the harsh night sky in the mountains.

“Does he know?” He asked smoothly, arms crossed. I shook my head so he continued his questioning, “Are you going to tell him?” I shook my head again.

“Why?”

The question made me freeze because it did not come from Cassian, that voice had come from the shadow singer who know stood behind me. Cassian growled at Azriel and Az, for all intents and purposes, seemed all to read to snap back at him. Mother, give me patience or a dagger for these two.

“Cassian go home,” I ordered, the command in my voice was like steel, but I was quaking on the inside. Cassian was about to contradict me but something flickered in his eyes, my happiness, Azriel’s happiness, or his own need to protect his sister. There was a choice there and I waited in trepidation as Cassian looked torn between the two options.

Fortunately, he paced back a few. Steps before shooting into the sky. I sighed, taking down a mental note to thank him later. Azriel coughed from behind me and as I whirled to face the shadows singer, he looked sorrowful, disappointed.

“Is having me as a mate that bad?” His voice was quiet, so quiet. “No, it’s just-,” I looked at him again before gesturing to the whole of Velaris, “You could have anyone in the whole city, any female. How could I compete with that?” My tone grew heavier with every word. That was when I was swept off my feet, my wings draped heavily as Az carried me to the town house and brought me straight to his room.

“You are my mate,” He deadpanned as he hugged me the second he set me down, “You are more beautiful then any female in Velaris. Mins,” He was muffle as his face was buried in my hair. I giggled at the war sensation of his breath that skittered down my scalp to my neck.

“In tha case,” I started, reaching down to my pocket to pull out an almost melted chocolate bar, “Eat it,” I offered. And he did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Imma let your imagination flow for this one. This got long so it took so long to write, I’ve been writing this since Thursday and for me it’s Saturday in the morning. Anyways, I hope you guys like this one cause I did <3

tag list: @moonfawnx @bankerfrog @younxii @starlit-terror @hideing @flightlesslittlebirdie @menagerofmischief @famousbasementpainter @owllover123 @bookworm-nerd6 @gigisssz @bethany-bee0128 @cityofidek

#azriel #azriel angst #acosf #acotar fandom #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #rhysand #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #azriel acotar #mor acotar #cassian #amren #amren acotar #amren x reader #acofas #acomaf #cassian acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acomaf #azriel and reader #Azriel fluff #Shadow singer x reader #Cassian’s sister #Sister!reader

[dee-writes-smut]

TULIPS (Chapter Three)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x pregnant!reader

SUMMARY dinner with the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court was going well- if not better- than you expected... until it wasn't.

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, cuteness, pregnancy, mentions of foot massages, rushed editing (you have been warned)

AUTHORS NOTE this was as adorable to write as it was to read, hope you all enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST

As the weeks transformed into a comfortable cadence of companionship, Eris's presence evolved from a persistent irritation to a source of solace and warmth. Each night, he would accompany you on leisurely strolls through the Autumn Court's sprawling gardens, engaging in deep conversations that ranged from trivial to profound. Initially resistant, your defenses gradually crumbled under the weight of his genuine interest and the gentle tenor of his voice. Eris, once a distant figure, had seamlessly become both a confidant and a friend. The awkwardness that had once marked your interactions gave way to an easeful rapport, characterized by shared laughs, quiet moments, and even intertwined arms as you walked together.

Despite your initial fears, keeping both you and your pregnancy hidden from Beron proved less daunting than anticipated. The castle staff, having grown fond of your presence and Eris's protective stance, covertly supported you, ready to accept Beron's wrath should the need arise. The life blossoming within you stirred more vigorously with each passing day, its movements transforming from uncertain flutters to joyous, definitive kicks—a constant, cherished reminder of the new life you were nurturing.

Lately, however, the joys of pregnancy have been tempered by its tolls: swelling and a pervasive fatigue that some days tethered you to your bed. Adapting to your needs, Eris crafted a new routine. Each morning, he would cross the short distance from his room to yours, coax you from the sanctuary of your bed to the plush couch near the fireplace, and spend a few moments ensuring both you and the baby were well before attending to his duties.

Now, you were nestled comfortably on the couch, wrapped in a thick blanket against the autumn chill, while Eris attended to your swollen feet. His fingers, long and defined, pressed into your arches with a precision that coaxed sighs of relief from your lips. You massaged your growing belly, lost in the tranquility that only this quiet room, with its crackling fireplace and the soothing touch of a man you had grown to trust implicitly, could offer.

Breaking the silence, Eris's voice was soft, yet carried an undercurrent of something significant. "I have a meeting tomorrow," he murmured, his fingers shifting to your ankles, easing the persistent ache with gentle, circular motions. You hummed in acknowledgment, the peace of the moment making it easy to listen.

"I'd like you to come with me," he added, his suggestion prompting you to open your eyes and sit up, tension threading through your previously relaxed posture.

"Eris, I’m not sure that’s—" you began, only to be cut off as he expertly pressed into a tight spot on your foot, drawing a sharp, involuntary focus back to the physical relief.

"I know you are hesitant to go out, but I promise, no one will learn of your condition. You and the baby will be safe—I swear it," he assured you, his gaze intense and earnest.

"And who exactly are we meeting?" you asked, curiosity piqued despite your initial reservations.

"The High Lord and Lady of the Night Court," he replied smoothly, watching for any shift in your expression. He was aware of your past efforts in the Spring Court, though he remained blissfully unaware of that one fateful night with Lucien—a detail you continued to keep close to your heart more so out of fear than true, deep love.

Eris's next words came hesitantly, a rare vulnerability shadowing his usually confident demeanor. "There's something I need to share with you, something dangerous enough to threaten my life if it were spoken here. Until now, I’ve trusted no one with this knowledge, but I want—no, I need you to know."

The notion that Eris Vanserra, the heir to the ruthlessly pragmatic Autumn throne, could exhibit such bashfulness, such sincere openness, would have once seemed ludicrous. Yet, here in this quiet room, witnessing the softening of a man known for his sharp wit and sharper politics, you realized how deeply intertwined your lives had become. The trust he offered wasn't just a gift; it was a sacred bond, one that you now held as precious and vital, as he undoubtedly did.

Your decision to accompany Eris to the meeting was not made lightly. While the prospect of venturing out with him was enticing, the shadow of Lucien's potential presence loomed ominously in your mind. You couldn't shake the fear that he might discern the truth—that he might catch a hint of his child lingering on you—and unravel the fragile web of secrecy you had painstakingly woven.

"I'll go with you," you finally responded, forcing a soft smile to grace your lips, though your heart fluttered nervously in your chest. Eris's grin widened in response, a radiant expression that never failed to warm your heart. It was a sight you had grown to cherish—the genuine happiness that danced in his eyes whenever you agreed to accompany him.

Upon entering the House of Wind, the grandeur of the Night Court's architecture took your breath away. As you traversed the expansive hall, your eyes were drawn upward to the soaring ceilings, where the natural rock formations blended seamlessly with masterful stone carvings. The room was a symphony of art and nature, each element curated to showcase the might and elegance of the Night Court.

The House of Wind was perched atop one of the tallest mountains overlooking Velaris, the city of starlight. Its location offered a panoramic view of the sprawling city below, its lights twinkling like stars in the dusky evening sky. The ethereal quality of the place lent an almost surreal atmosphere to the meeting, the high altitude isolating it from the bustle of daily life and imbuing the gathering with a sense of detached serenity.

As Eris had insisted, the change of venue to Velaris instead of the grittier Hewn City was a strategic one, especially with your presence. Hewn City, with its darker undertones and the unscrupulous characters it often harbored, was not the environment Eris wanted to expose you to, particularly not in your condition. His protective instinct had flared, not just out of a sense of duty but something more personal, a deep-seated desire to shield you from any potential harm or distress.

Rhysand and Feyre, though initially surprised by the request to relocate, were accommodating. They understood the delicacies of political alliances and personal comforts, especially when it came to gatherings that might sway the balance of power in Prythian. Their acceptance of the change also spoke volumes of their respect for Eris's growing influence and his priorities, which now, intriguingly, seemed to include you.

Upon your arrival, you were greeted warmly by the High Lord and Lady. Feyre's smile was both welcoming and perceptive, her artist's eyes quickly taking in your slightly nervous demeanor. Rhysand's greeting was cordial yet measured, his legendary strategic mind likely already pondering the implications of Eris's sudden protectiveness over you.

The Inner Circle of the Night Court, comprising individuals of notable power and close personal ties to Rhysand and Feyre, were also present. Their curious glances were tinged with an unspoken question, their minds likely whirling with the possibilities of your relationship with Eris and what it meant for the political landscape.

Once dinner commenced, the conversation flowed like the fine wines served—rich, layered, and occasionally sharp. Topics ranged from trivial court gossip to the weightier issues of territorial disputes and trade alliances. Through it all, Eris spoke with an eloquence and assertiveness that reaffirmed his position not just as a scion of the Autumn Court, but as a player on the larger political stage.

The atmosphere in the grand hall of the House of Wind grew increasingly warm and congenial as dinner continued. It was a sharp contrast to the initial wariness that had marked the beginning of the evening. You found yourself slowly relaxing, the initial tension that had gripped you upon your arrival gradually easing as the hours passed.

Seated next to Eris, you were acutely aware of his constant vigilance. His gaze frequently swept the room, subtle but protective, always returning to rest on you with an unspoken reassurance. His hand, discreetly placed near yours on the table, was a silent promise of support. It was a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed by you, and it warmed a part of your heart reserved only for moments of true connection.

Across from you, Cassian—the General of the Night Court’s armies and the so-called Lord of Bloodshed—was proving to be nothing like the fearsome figure painted in the tales whispered across Prythian. His reputation as a fierce warrior was well-known, and yet, here he was, displaying a charisma and warmth that belied his formidable title. His questions were thoughtful and his laughter genuine, filling the space around him with an infectious joy that seemed to brighten the entire room.

Cassian’s interest in your thoughts on matters ranging from art to strategy was flattering. It was clear he valued intellect and insight, regardless of one’s position or power. His ability to make you feel seen and heard was a rare skill, and you found yourself engaging in the discussion with an eagerness that surprised even you.

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you spoke of your past experiences, carefully curating the details to avoid revealing too much about your true connections and current predicament. Cassian listened intently, nodding thoughtfully and occasionally interjecting with a question that nudged you deeper into the topic. His engagement was so complete and so devoid of judgment that you felt a genuine sense of safety—an odd feeling considering the circumstances under which you had arrived at the Night Court.

The discussion took a lighter turn as Cassian shared anecdotes from his own adventures. The tales were filled with humor and humility, showcasing his dedication to his people and his unshakeable honor. The contrast between the man before you and the stories told of him in hushed, wary tones across the land was stark. Here was a man who fought fiercely but loved deeply, whose strength was matched only by his compassion.

The wine and warmth of the room seemed to weave a spell of camaraderie among all present as the night wore on. You found yourself laughing more freely than you had in a long time, the sound mingling with the gentle music that floated through the air. Eris’s occasional glances filled with quiet amusement and pride as he watched you interact with his allies, and you realized how important this evening was—not just for political alliances but for personal revelations.

The connection you felt to these people, forged unexpectedly through shared smiles and stories, reminded you of the complexities of life in Prythian. Here, alliances were not just built on power but on the subtle threads of mutual respect and understanding—threads that, once woven, could form a tapestry strong enough to stand against the darkest of times.

“So, your plans are set then?” Rhysand’s voice cut through the chatter, his gaze on Eris poised with a strategic restraint as he sat close beside Feyre, their fingers intertwined under the table in a display of unity and affection.

“They are indeed. My father’s reign will end before the year is out,” Eris replied with diplomatic precision, his fingers subtly tightening around yours under the table, offering a silent reassurance as you chatted with Cassian and Mor, who had now joined your group.

“Do you still train?” Cassian continued the earlier conversation about combat training. You were known as a formidable warrior who had bravely fought in the war against Hybern, emerging with only a few scars to tell the tale.

“No, though I do miss it dearly,” you answered with a wistful smile, recalling the days spent wielding a sword and teaching yourself survival tactics against imminent threats.

“Why did you stop?” Mor inquired, her gaze sweeping over you as if searching for a physical reason for your hiatus from training.

“I’ve been busy adjusting to life in the Autumn Court, and while I hope to resume training soon, it seems unlikely until I'm more familiar with the intricacies of this new environment,” you said smoothly, concealing the truth of your pregnancy with an ease that belied the ache in your heart from withholding such vital information from these potential allies. “I wouldn’t want to accidentally behead someone,” you joked, lightening the mood and drawing hearty laughter from Cassian.

“Well,” Cassian began, wiping away tears of mirth, “if you ever need any tips or want to spar, you’re always welcome to join me here. It would be good to have a fresh sparring partner.”

Mor's laughter rang clear and bright alongside Cassian's, their camaraderie infectious, filling the air with a sense of light-heartedness that briefly lifted the weight of your secret. The offer from Cassian, so freely given, was a testament to the Night Court's reputation for valuing strength and skill regardless of court affiliations. It was tempting, the idea of swinging a sword again, feeling the familiar weight in your hands, the rush of adrenaline that came with the dance of combat—a dance you missed dearly.

"I might just take you up on that, Cassian," you responded, your voice lighter than you felt. "It would be good to shake off the rust."

"Consider it an open invitation," Cassian replied with a grin that was both mischievous and welcoming.

Beside you, Eris shifted slightly, his attention momentarily flickering back to you from his strategic discussion with Rhysand and Feyre. His hand tightened around yours, a gesture that you knew was not only for reassurance but also a silent reminder of the stakes at play tonight. His plans, so boldly stated, were a gambit that could change the face of the Autumn Court, and by extension, the delicate balance of power throughout Prythian.

Rhysand’s gaze, sharp and calculating, moved from Eris to you, sensing the undercurrents of your conversation. He was a leader known for his insight, and you wondered briefly what he saw when he looked your way. Did he detect the nuances of your situation, the unspoken truths that lay beneath your carefully constructed facade?

"As long as Eris doesn’t mind sharing some of Autumn’s finest warriors with us," Rhysand added with a subtle smirk, easing the tension that had started to coil beneath the surface of the conversation.

"Only if you don’t mind returning them in one piece," Eris quipped, his tone light but his eyes scanning Rhysand for any sign of true political intent beneath the banter.

Feyre, ever the observant High Lady, interjected with a grace that smoothed the edges of the strategic dance unfolding at the table. "I think we can all agree that sharing knowledge and skills can only strengthen our courts," she said, her voice a soothing melody that seemed to weave peace into the words themselves.

Her comment steered the conversation towards safer waters, and you felt a silent gratitude for her intervention. The night continued, with discussions ebbing and flowing from politics to personal anecdotes, each moment carefully layered with both overt and hidden meanings.

As the dinner neared its end, you felt the first definitive kick from within—a startling, wondrous sensation that drew a gasp from your lips, momentarily drawing the attention of those around you, including Eris, whose concern was immediate.

"Are you alright?" Eris asked quietly, leaning closer to mask the conversation from curious ears.

"Just a bit of discomfort," you whispered back, offering him a reassuring smile to alleviate his worry. The moment was fleeting but significant, a poignant reminder of the life you carried—a secret that bound you to Lucien yet remained hidden even from him.

You composed yourself, returning to the conversations with a calm demeanor, the reality of your situation settled heavily upon you. The ties you were forging here, under the guise of mere political alliances, were becoming more personal, more vital. The truth of your child’s paternity lingered like a shadow; one you knew would eventually come to light.

The sudden silence that fell over the grand dining hall was palpable, a stark contrast to the lively banter that had filled the air just moments before. Cassian's knife hitting the floor seemed to echo through the chamber, an unintentional signal that caused every pair of eyes to swivel toward you, expressions filled with surprise and curiosity. The subtle yet unmistakable scent of pregnancy had wafted through the air, a fragrance familiar to those attuned to the nuances of fae biology.

Beside you, Eris's body tensed, his grip on your hand tightening imperceptibly. His quick, calculating eyes darted around the table, assessing each reaction with a practiced eye, before settling back on you with a look that was both protective and probing. He was searching for cues on how to proceed, his usual confidence momentarily overshadowed by the unforeseen revelation.

Your own heart thudded loudly in your chest, the sound almost echoing in your ears as you navigated through the rapid thoughts and fears crowding your mind. The intimacy and warmth of the room felt suddenly claustrophobic, the walls closing in as you contemplated the implications of your condition becoming public knowledge here, among potential allies and friends.

Rhysand, always the leader, was the first to address the sudden shift in atmosphere. His voice was calm and collected, though you could detect the undercurrent of authority that underpinned his position as High Lord. "Is there something you wish to share with us?" he asked, his eyes locking with yours, a mixture of intrigue and concern lining his features.

Feyre, ever the empath and peacemaker, extended her hand across the table toward you, her gesture one of solidarity and reassurance. "Whatever it is, you're among friends," she said gently, her voice a soothing balm in the tense silence. Her assurance was meant to comfort, to remind you of the support system that surrounded you in this room.

The deafening echo of fear reverberated through your ears, a raw, unfiltered panic seizing hold of you. Lucien's intricate connections to each person in the room flashed before your mind's eye, a stark reminder of the delicate web of alliances and loyalties that surrounded you. Though they might assume Eris to be the father of your child, the mere possibility of your momentary lapse in concentration betraying the truth sent a chill down your spine, tightening every muscle in your body with apprehension.

With a gentle lean and a deep, calming breath, Eris closed the distance between you, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he spoke softly, his words meant for your ears alone. "We can handle this together," he whispered, the warmth of his touch a silent pledge of unwavering unity and support. In that moment, his commitment shone through, steadfast and resolute, a beacon of strength amidst the tumultuous currents of political intrigue and personal turmoil.

You took a deep breath, buoyed by Eris's support and the encouraging faces around you, and found the courage to speak. "Yes, I… I'm expecting," you announced, the words coming out in a rush, laden with both fear and relief. The table responded in a variety of ways.

Cassian, the warrior with a reputation as fierce as his loyalty, recovered from his initial surprise with a broad grin spreading across his rugged features. "Well, that’s cause for celebration, isn’t it?" he declared, his booming voice breaking the tension, his demeanor shifting the mood towards one of festivity rather than scandal.

Mor, radiant and ever joyful, clapped her hands softly, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of happiness. "Oh, that's wonderful news!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she mirrored Cassian's sentiment.

The unwavering support of your new friends had the rest of the table exhaling deeply, the tension dissipating like morning mist under the first light of dawn. It was as if a collective sigh of relief swept through the grand dining hall, washing away the discomfort that had momentarily lingered in the air.

“You must be thrilled, Eris, I had no idea you were with a female, let alone close enough to start a family, an oversight on my part,” Rhysand's comment, though perhaps inadvertently brusque, was met with a swift reprimand from Feyre, her scolding glare a silent reminder of the importance of diplomacy and tact. Her subsequent words, however, carried a genuine warmth and sincerity, a testament to her graciousness and desire to foster unity among the courts.

"I believe what Rhysand meant to say," Feyre interjected smoothly, her voice gentle but firm, "is that we are genuinely happy for both of you. Congratulations are in order, and we look forward to the potential alliances that may blossom between our courts. You have found a remarkable partner, Eris, and we are honored to welcome her into our midst."

Her smile was radiant, a beacon of acceptance and friendship that illuminated the table, and you found yourself returning it with a mixture of gratitude and trepidation. The queasy churn in your stomach persisted, a reminder of the weight of the secrets still hidden, but Feyre's genuine warmth and the friendly wink she directed your way offered a glimmer of reassurance.

“Thank you,” Eris's response was measured and regal, his acknowledgment of their well-wishes tinged with a silent understanding of the delicate dance they were all engaged in.

As he pressed a tender kiss to your intertwined hands, a silent reassurance of his unwavering support, you felt a swell of affection and gratitude for the man beside you. His steadfast presence, a pillar of strength in a sea of uncertainty, was a source of comfort and reassurance amid the swirling currents of political intrigue.

With a steady voice, you echoed Feyre's sentiment, expressing your gratitude for the warm welcome extended to you both. The queasiness in your stomach persisted, a lingering reminder of the secrets still hidden beneath the surface, but the genuine warmth in Feyre's smile and the camaraderie that permeated the room filled you with a sense of cautious optimism.

"I hope to be great friends one day, Lady Feyre," you said earnestly, meeting her gaze with sincerity. The prospect of forging genuine connections with these influential figures was both daunting and exhilarating, offering the promise of camaraderie and support in a world fraught with political intrigue and danger.

As the dinner resumed, the mood lightened further, the conversation flowing freely as newfound bonds were forged over shared laughter and stories. The weight of the secrets you carried remained, a silent undercurrent beneath the surface of the evening's festivities, but for now, in the warmth of acceptance and friendship, you allowed yourself to savor the moment, cherishing the unexpected connections that had been forged in the crucible of uncertainty.

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