Between Worlds Part III

Between Worlds Part III

A/n: Wasn't planning on writing more, but your support changed my mind! The series now has a title. Thanks to all who liked and reblogged the first two fics. You're amazing! Hope you all enjoy the third part :)) I did change the POV to make it flow nicer, had a coworker edit the fic for me too, let me know any thoughts!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five: Coming soon!

Summary: Reader wakes up in ACOTAR a year after the war with Hybern. A bunch of events happen that leads to them waking up in a one night stand with Azriel.

Trigger Warnings: Maybe slightly scary Azriel but none that I can think of besides slight angst.

Word Count: 1.6k

It was supposed to be a simple one-night stand with a handsome stranger, a way to steer clear of the story’s main characters. But, after a few too many drinks—Sake Bombs to be exact—I woke up in the bed of the Night Court’s spymaster, one of Prythian’s most dangerous men. One word stood out to me, echoing in my mind. The shock was clear on my face.

“‘Mate’?” you stammered. A mate bond between us? That was impossible. You weren’t even supposed to be in this world. Was the tightening in your chest from the bond or just your own anxiety?

Azriel chuckled, looking down at you. You could tell that he saw through your pathetic attempt at hiding your feelings. I mean, you could feel the invisible thread pulling you together. You could feel every emotion he was expressing through the bond. Azriel was the spymaster; he was trained to read every emotion and find any information he could get.

“You felt it, didn’t you? The love and affection that I am sending you.” His voice was laced with amusement as he watched you squirm a bit. “You’re not getting out of it that easily you know. Mate bonds are sacred after all.” His expression turned serious as he said this, looking down at you.

“This is going to sound selfish,” he said softly, not meeting your gaze as he looked around the room. “Please, give it a chance. I have been waiting so long to find my mate and here you are.” A soft, breathy laugh escaped his lips. “Who knew I’d meet my mate drunk at a pleasure hall? Never in my five hundred years would I have expected that. The Mother must work in mysterious ways.” He finally met your gaze, his gaze held warmth but seemed to be evaluating your every move.

That’s right, he is around five hundred years old and just had a mate bond snap…which means that he probably wants to have a ceremony as soon as possible. I could feel the anxiety creeping up. I know he can sense and feel every emotion. What would he do, if he found out that I am not even from this world? That I am not his true mate?

You somehow manage to blurt out without stammering, “I…want to form a bargain with you.”

“A bargain?” His expression darkened with curiosity.

You shifted nervously in the bed, a knot had built in your chest, and you could feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. You needed him to say yes, you needed time to figure out your situation, even if you had to throw a bargain that he would more than likely say no to. A bargain that would make him feel rejected.

His gaze held yours for a moment, the only movement being his eyes as they scanned your every expression. “What would you like to bargain with me about, y/n?”

“First, I want to make sure the ceremony date isn’t for another six months, preferably longer. Second, you cannot use your shadows to spy on me. They cannot access my room or any of my items. Lastly, I need three months before I meet your family or before you can meet mine.” You could feel the anxiety brewing in your stomach. His expression showed a tiny amount of sadness and curiosity. You felt as if he knew you were hiding something but was choosing to ignore it, for now. “Is there anything you would like to add?”

Azriel stared at you incredulously. You had wanted the ceremony to be delayed, and not only did you not want him to access your personal life, but you wanted three months to go by before he saw your family, or you saw his. A few minutes of silence passed as Azriel pondered his next response. His face was expressionless, showing none of his thoughts.

“Three months? Why three months?” The soft amusement was back in his voice as he shifted forward, placing his scarred fingers under your chin so you’d meet his gaze. A gaze that could only belong to someone who was feared among every court in Prythian. A dangerous gaze that spoke volumes. The room was silent, as you couldn’t say another word. Instead, he spoke in a low, soft tone that seemed to taunt a reaction out of you.

“You know I could find any information that I could ever want, right?” Words that were laced with truth, a subtle warning in his tone. 

You felt like your heart was going to burst from the anxiety inside of you, a part of you hoping it would so you could avoid this conversation. “I know you could find any information about me that you could want, I just…I don’t want to move too fast. I mean we just met, you know?”

He chuckled softly as he dragged his scarred thumb across your cheek. In a whisper that seemed laced with something dark. "We did just meet, but I do know one thing about you already." Azriel gave you a warm smile and stared at you as he whispered the words "You're scared and I know you’re hiding something, sweetness."

You took in a deep breath, trying to clear your thoughts. This male was going to be the death of you.

You stammered your sentence for a moment. “I’m not scared, it’s just…I can’t exactly tell you right now. I need to figure out some things first. But, that’s not important right now, do you accept the bargain?”

Azriel frowned as he looked at your face, somehow trying to find information through your expression. After another moment, he finally said, "Fine, you have your bargain. But only if you promise me one thing."

He accepted? That was different than what you were expecting. “What’s your condition?”

Before you knew it, you truly saw the spymaster of the Night Court in action as he moved closer to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, pulling his hand away from your face, and moved them to either side of you. Leaning down close enough to whisper in your ear. "You'll tell me whatever truth you're keeping from me after three months, no games, no bullshit. But only after the three months have passed." He seemed to wait until you could gather your senses to respond. His gaze was harsh but still held some warmth.

“We have a deal,” the words stumbled out, your voice barely above a whisper.

“We have a deal,” Azriel repeated with his voice sending a shiver down your spine with its coldness. He hesitated for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly as if wrestling an inner turmoil. Then without warning, a bargain marking materialized on both of your wrists, taking the form of a small star.

Another long period of silence. Nothing in the room moved but his shadows that moved between you like silk. Some of the shadows felt like kisses on your wrist as they slithered over the bargain.

“I suppose I should take you home,” he whispered, his voice coming out rough. As if he wanted to say something more. You gave him a slow nod, and he moved away, climbing off the bed to hand you a simple dress. “I had my shadows bring something, you…ruined yours last night. I’ll save you the embarrassment,” he teased lightly before stepping out of the room to allow you some privacy.

Oh…what did you do in front of this beautiful creature? You are never drinking again if it's what you think it is.

You slipped on the dress; it fit nicely. How he knew your size or his shadows knew was beyond you. You chose to ignore those thoughts as you tied your hair, looking in the mirror. One thing you knew for sure, you needed a bath.

After you stepped out of the room, your eyes fell upon Azriel, already clad in his Illyrian leathers, the blue cobalt siphons shimmering in the morning light that filtered through the window. He looked every bit the formidable warrior, yet there was a softness in his eyes as he reached out his scarred hand to yours. 

In an instant, we were no longer in the confines of the townhouse, but standing at the gates of your parents’ estate. Azriel’s expression softened, his gaze meeting yours with a vulnerability you hadn’t expected. 

“Y/n, there is one more thing before we go back in there,” he said, his voice carrying a weight of unspoken words. 

As he glanced towards the estate, a sense of unease settled over me, knowing what was coming next. "Your secret, whatever it is, will always be safe with me,” Azriel said, his gaze unwaveringly sincere as he met your eyes.  “Whenever you are ready to tell me.”

You met his gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension, emotions swirling within you like a storm. "It's not that bad of a secret," you began, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. "I just don't want anyone to get hurt." You paused, gathering your thoughts. "Don't worry, in three months you can introduce me to your family. In six months we can set a date for a ceremony."

Azriel leaned forward, his smile gentle as he reached out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His expression was a blend of disappointment and sadness flickering in his eyes. It seemed as though he had something more to say, or perhaps do. After a moment of tense silence, he nodded as if coming to a decision. "See you in three months, my mate," he said softly, before turning away and disappearing with a graceful winnow. Not even leaving a trace of shadows behind. All that was left was his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar. 

Tag list: @mybestfriendmademe, @why4anne, @impossibelle

Upcoming Modern!Azriel Fic

Trigger warnings: mentions of abuse and an affair.

In the facade of Windhaven, the mayor portrayed perfection—a loving family, accomplished sons, and a jovial demeanor in public. But behind closed doors, he concealed a darker truth, subjecting Azriel, his illegitimate son, to relentless abuse.

Conceived from an affair with a maid, Azriel's existence became a shameful secret. The mayor adopted him to maintain appearances, while the maid disappeared under the guise of a paid silence, leaving Azriel to navigate a hostile household.

Lonely and longing for his mother's warmth, Azriel endured the torment of his stepbrothers, who saw him as nothing more than a villain in their games. Isolated and yearning for companionship, he found solace only in the confines of his room.

As years passed, Azriel's torment escalated, culminating in a horrifying incident orchestrated by his brothers. Left scarred both physically and emotionally, he faced his father's contempt and the cruel decree of boarding school—a final banishment from the only home he'd ever known.

But amidst the darkness, a glimmer of hope emerged as Azriel embarked on a journey to a new life in Velaris, leaving behind the shadows of Windhaven to pursue his dreams and find belonging with his newfound family.

A/n: This will be a Azriel x Reader taking place in the modern world. The first part will be his childhood with his father and brothers in Windhaven, will be pretty angsty!

ミ★ 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨! ★彡

Hey!

My name is Snail, happy that you found my blog. Feel free to stay awhile. I only really plan on writing fics in my free time for ACOTAR & JJK :)

Currently Watching: Nana

Requests are open!

Asks are welcome, feel free to chat too!

°°••....••°°

Masterlist ACOTAR

Masterlist Jujutsu Kaisen

Potions & Shadows (Part III)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leading to Feyre needing the once-village apothecaries' help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: I LITERALLY could not stop writing this part. No joke, all I could think about at the gym was writing this. I seriously love Nesta and her character in the series and have always wanted to write about her. I hope you all enjoy!

part one, part two, part three, part IV

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: Mentions of loss, more trauma dumping, healing!

Taglist: @cherry-cin, @sassybluebird, @aehllitas-blog

The House of Wind loomed before you, an imposing structure carved into the mountain, exuding an air of ancient power and mystery. The stone walls were cold and unyielding, reminiscent of the dungeons you had once frequented, but there was a certain warmth to the wooden accents that softened the overall austere appearance. Tall ceilings stretched above you, adorned with faelights that cast a gentle, magical glow throughout the vast space.

As Azriel guided you through the grand doorway, you could feel his presence behind you, a silent but reassuring shadow. The house was immense, its scale almost overwhelming. Natural light poured in through the large, curved windows, illuminating the interior with a serene, ethereal brightness. Outside, you could hear the ever-present rustling of the wind, a constant whisper that seemed to caress the edges of your awareness without ever breaching the sanctuary within.

As you moved further into the house, you couldn't help but marvel at the blend of the natural and the mystical, the way the architecture seamlessly integrated with the mountain, creating a haven that was both formidable and welcoming.

Feyre was the first to greet you, her arms wrapping around you in a warm hug as soon as you stepped inside. "I’m sorry I haven’t had time to visit since you arrived. Things have just been so busy with preparations and such," she said, offering you a small, apologetic smile. Feyre seemed to embody the essence of the fae effortlessly, her dress shimmering like it was woven from starlight, enhancing her natural grace and beauty.

Before you could respond, you saw Nesta making her way down the hallway towards you. Unlike Feyre, Nesta was the Archeron sister you were closest to. She had often sought your company, and you had come to appreciate her fierce spirit and unyielding strength. As she approached, it was evident that fae life suited her even more profoundly than it did Feyre. Nesta had always carried a regal presence, and now it was even more pronounced.

However, as she drew nearer, you couldn't help but notice the stark changes in her appearance. Dark circles framed her eyes, and her cheeks were hollow, hinting at self-neglect or something more troubling. The once bright and lively child you remembered now had a cold fire in her eyes, a guardedness that spoke of hidden pain and secrets. She resembled a drake, fiercely protecting something deep within.

A pang of guilt struck you. If only your wards had been stronger, perhaps the tragedies that had befallen them could have been prevented. The weight of those thoughts settled heavily on your shoulders as Nesta reached you. She gave you a nod, her expression guarded, but there was a flicker of recognition and relief in her eyes at seeing a familiar face.

"You're here," Nesta said simply, her voice lacking the warmth it once held but carrying a strength that hadn't wavered.

"Yes, I suppose I am,” you replied softly, searching her face for any sign of the sister you once knew so well. "It's good to see you, Nesta."

The three of you stood there, an unspoken understanding passing between you. Feyre, with her gentle grace; Nesta, with her steely resolve; and you, caught between the memories of the past and the uncertain future. Azriel’s presence at your back was a steadying force, a reminder that you weren’t alone, that you were being watched. 

Nesta finally spoke again, lifting her chin as she peered down at you. "So you’re not fully human. Your stories were true," she whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief. As children, she and her sisters had listened to your tales, thinking them nothing more than fairy tales. Now, faced with the truth, the reality of your adventures seemed to dawn on her.

You analyzed Nesta as she stood before you, noticing how both she and Feyre towered over you. For children who had once been on the brink of starvation, their height was remarkable, a stark contrast to your own shorter stature. A slight bitterness flickered within you at the thought, but you quickly pushed it aside.

"Why would I tell you stories that weren’t true?" you replied, smiling at her. You saw the way she fought a smile, and it warmed your heart. Feyre watched the interaction with a look of mild shock, perhaps surprised by the rapport you shared with her sister. The dynamics between the sisters were complex and often strained, each one embodying a different personality.

"And Elain? Where is she?" you asked, hoping to see the gentle sister as well. Nesta's gaze hardened. "She’s different now, you could say the least." You simply nodded, understanding that there were likely painful changes and experiences that had affected Elain. You decided to leave it at that, hoping you might see her later that night.

As Feyre continued chatting with you, you both moved toward the dining room. The table was laden with various dishes, a feast that was both inviting and overwhelming. Nesta slowed her pace to walk beside you, glancing at you with softened eyes. Perhaps your presence brought a sense of normalcy to her, a reminder of simpler times before their lives had been irrevocably altered.

When you glanced behind you, Azriel was gone from sight. Perhaps he had other matters to attend to. A pang of disappointment hit you, a small ache at the absence of his steadying presence. A strange feeling that you have never felt before. 

As you reached the dining room, Feyre gestured for you to take a seat. "Please, make yourself at home," she said warmly. "We have plenty of food, and I hope you find something you like." Feyre went off to grab the others, though you could not sense the fae or scent them. You assumed you would be meeting Feyre’s mate this evening and the rest of the important members of the court. 

Nesta settled into a chair next to you, and you noticed a faint smile tugging at her lips. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. Moments later, Elain made her way into the room, offering you a shy smile as a greeting. You weren’t the closest, but she would often come to you for seeds or advice on helping her plants. Elain had always been an ethereal beauty, but now she seemed like a haunted beauty, as if her mind was plagued with thoughts that nobody could understand, perhaps not even herself.

Nesta flashed Elain a worried glance before glancing at the doorway. That was when you noticed a large Illyrian male entering the room. It was as if the doorway was made specifically for him, his hulking size filling the entire archway as he made his way to take a seat across from Nesta. While Azriel was classically handsome, this Illyrian male seemed rougher but equally handsome, with a sun-kissed glow on his tan skin. You noticed Nesta stiffen in her chair, glancing away from him.

His booming voice broke the silence in the room. "You must be the new healer. I’m Cassian. It’s a pleasure to meet you." Your gaze met his. He was handsome, with the same golden eyes as Azriel, though Cassian’s had more specks of brown. As Azriel’s eyes revealed the predator behind them, so did Cassian’s. Your eyes shifted to the red siphons that matched Azriel’s blue siphons, an Illyrian tradition to control their magic.

"Pleasure to meet you as well, Cassian," you said softly, before noticing Azriel had entered behind him. Azriel dipped his head in greeting to you, a subtle yet reassuring gesture. You acknowledged him with a nod, feeling a sense of relief at his presence.

You noticed Elain’s gaze shift to Azriel, her posture stiffening and becoming more refined. There was an unmistakable tension in the air, a complex web of emotions and unspoken words binding everyone in the room. The dynamics between them were intricate, layered with history and unhealed wounds.

As Mor and another small fae entered the room, the atmosphere shifted slightly. The small fae didn’t seem completely fae, as if a darker presence lurked behind that delicate exterior. Mor greeted you with a warm smile and a hug, her bubbly nature unchanged since you last met her. 

"Good to see you again," Mor said brightly, her cheerfulness a welcome contrast to the otherwise tense atmosphere.

The small fae, whom you now had a name for was Amren, took a seat across from you. Her piercing gaze felt like it was analyzing your every move, reminiscent of a tiger ready to strike. She swirled a glass of blood in one hand, a clear indication that she was not truly fae. You caught her knowing look and the deadly smirk that played on her lips, a gesture that went unnoticed by everyone else at the table but you two.

Amren's smirk deepened slightly as she realized you understood her true nature. It was a silent acknowledgment, a mutual recognition of the other’s hidden depths. You held her gaze for a moment longer before turning your attention back to the table.

Feyre walked in with Rhysand, their hands clasped together as they entered the room. Rhysand's piercing violet gaze locked onto you, a reminder of the dangerous power he wielded. If anyone here posed a threat to your life, it was him. You sat in a room full of predators, their eyes revealing their true natures. A part of you wanted to sink into your chair, but you fought that feeling. If you had succumbed to fear every time it reared its head, you wouldn't have made it this far. Fear was fuel for growth after all. You kept your heartbeat calm even as every bone in your body urged you to leave. Perhaps this was the human part of you speaking. 

Feyre and Rhysand took their spots at the head of the table, and Rhysand gestured for everyone to begin eating. You felt a subtle pressure at the back of your mind, like claws scratching at the surface, but your shields held strong. You were aware that trust in this court had to be earned, and you wouldn’t expect anything less. You pretended not to notice the mental probing as you filled your plate, focusing on the idle chatter at the table.

The conversation flowed around you, a mix of light-hearted banter and more serious discussions. You listened attentively, trying to piece together the dynamics and relationships between the members of the Inner Circle. Feyre and Rhysand's connection was palpable, their bond a solid anchor for the group. Mates you thought, what an interesting concept. 

Nesta remained guarded, but there was a softness in her eyes when she glanced at you or Elain. Elain, still ethereal and haunted, seemed to sink into her chair as she stared at her plate. Cassian's boisterous presence added a layer of warmth to the gathering, his laughter and teasing lightening the mood. Mor’s cheerful demeanor and Amren’s enigmatic aura balanced each other out, creating an intriguing dynamic.

Azriel, though quiet, was a constant presence. His eyes frequently met yours, and a part of you hated this new emotion you felt every time you looked at him. Your heart wanted to leap from your chest at every glance, a sense of a tug, a longing to be closer. You watched his lips as he brought a glass of wine to them, the deep red liquid staining them the color of blood. You broke your stare away, as did he, with a subtle tug of his lips.

After dinner concluded, Nesta walked with you to the balcony. Feyre watched you both walk away, perhaps sensing that this was the comfort Nesta needed, someone familiar. Neither of you noticed the shadow that trailed behind you.

“Do they always look at you like that?” you murmured, leaning against the cool balcony railing as the wind rustled through your hair. Nesta joined you after shutting the door, her gaze cool and distant as she looked out over the city below, where the lights mirrored the twinkling stars above.

“Like I’m the cruel viper that I am?” Nesta snapped, her expression clearly signaling she wanted to drop the topic. But you pressed on, curious to see how she would respond.

You pursed your lips before continuing, "No, not like that. More like they’re waiting for you to strike, or maybe just trying to understand you."

Nesta let out a breathless laugh, her eyes narrowing slightly, an edge to her voice. “Understand me?” she echoed, her voice sharp. “I let my younger sister wander into the woods alone at fourteen. They see me as the villain in her story.”

You turned to face her fully, the city lights mixed with the starry night casting a soft glow on her features. “Perhaps they do, Nesta, but I think it’s because you make it so damn hard for anyone to get close. Even as a child, your words were sharp like a blade; you are strong like one too. I hate seeing you shrink under their gazes. Maybe it’s my lack of human emotion, but I don’t understand your guilt. You were a child too.”

Nesta’s eyes flashed with something raw, a mix of pain and defiance. "Maybe I was a child, but I was the oldest. I should have protected Feyre. Instead, I watched her struggle while I did nothing."

"Doing nothing can be a form of protection too," you said softly. "Sometimes, it's all we can do to survive. You can't change the past, but you can decide what to do now. Shrinking away helps no one, least of all you."

Nesta looked away, her jaw tightening. "It's not that simple."

"Of course it isn't," you agreed. "Life isn’t simple, especially an immortal one."

She was silent for a moment, the wind tugging at her hair. "And what about you? Why do you leave for years on end? Your eyes have always looked like you're lost in another world."

You sighed, leaning against the railing. "Let me give you some context. Elves don’t have human emotions—we lack the need to love, to be happy, to feel sad. I’m only half-elf, but I don’t experience emotions like my human side. So, I joined a guild to learn how to be human. That led me to buy a house in a human village, mimicking their emotions, hoping that one day I could learn to love.” Another sigh escaped your lips. “What I want you to understand, Nesta, is that being immortal is both a blessing and a curse. You have an eternity to be hard on yourself, but you also have that time to be kind to yourself as well."

You could tell that Nesta closed her walls once more. You read her too well, and she pushed you away. You were fine with that; you got your message across. It wasn’t until in a small voice she asked, “You can’t feel emotions?” her gaze shifting to you. You shook your head and with a laugh said,

“While we're out here speaking trauma, for eighty years, I locked myself away from any form of contact. Stories came about in villages nearby that a lone elf lives in the woods. It was true. For eighty years, I did not know what to do with myself. My mentor, who was human, had passed away from old age. As a child, I watched her grow wrinkles; when I turned nineteen, I stopped aging, but she continued.” You sucked in a breath before continuing,  “On her deathbed, she taught me a spell - to create a field of flowers. Her last request was on her grave; she wanted a field of wildflowers and apologized for only teaching me revenge magic. You see, she taught me how to be a weapon, how to suppress my mana, and made me into the mage I am today. When my mentor passed, the only thing I did was create a field of flowers and live by myself in the woods. I did not shed a tear or feel any sadness. Then one day, I woke up and did my usual routine, and a human found me in the woods. He said he needed a mage for a dungeon raid his party was going on, a simple request. That’s when I began to learn to be human.” You shifted your gaze to look at her.

Nesta listened intently, her expression unreadable. “So, you spent eighty years alone in the woods, without feeling anything?”

“Exactly,” you confirmed. “It was a strange existence, to say the least. But it taught me a lot about myself and the world. And it’s what eventually led me here, to this moment, standing on this balcony with you.”

Nesta nodded slowly, processing your words. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like. To live for so long without feeling anything.”

“It wasn’t easy,” you admitted. “But it made me who I am today. And I wouldn’t change it for anything.”

There was a moment of silence between you, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Then, Nesta spoke again, her voice soft.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.”

You gave her a small smile. “Thank you for listening. It’s not often I get to talk about my past. One of my biggest fears is that I would be forgotten from the world.”

She nodded, a hint of understanding in her eyes. “We all have our demons to face, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” you agreed. “And immortality is a long time to face them head-on.”

As you stood there together, the night air cool and calm around you, you felt a sense of connection with Nesta. It was a small step, but an important one. You reached over and on your tip toes, pat her on top of the head. 

“I will always carry you in my memories Nesta, even if nobody else will. Just remember that I will carry your memory.” You murmured in a soft voice. That trailing shadow slithered away into the dark abyss to report the newfound knowledge. 

“I hope you get to learn how to love, Y/n. Perhaps I will too” Nesta said as she walked away back into the House of Wind with you trailing behind. 

Azriel greeted you with a gentle hand extended, his voice soft as he inquired, "We have a meeting tomorrow. Is it alright if I escort you back?" Though he felt a pang of guilt for eavesdropping on your conversation with Nesta, it granted him a deeper understanding of you. You, a three-hundred-year-old who had never experienced love, mirrored his own plight in a way. While Azriel knew how to love, it was a sentiment never reciprocated.

Why did he always find himself lost in such thoughts around you?

As the members of the inner circle bid you farewell, Nesta remained silent but gave you a knowing glance. Azriel then lifted you into his arms, igniting a flurry of sensations that made your heart race. You silently prayed that he wouldn't notice the warmth flooding your body under his touch, or the thunderous rhythm of your heart. Azriel was grateful for your lack of fae senses, unaware of his attraction towards you, and the yearning to draw closer to you.

With a powerful beat of his wings, he took flight with you cradled in his arms, disappearing into the night sky. His wings stretched wide, their flapping a symphony against the backdrop of darkness. His shadows danced around you, their caresses like silk, and their whispers of praise enveloped you. They dubbed you a pretty little mage, prompting a blush to grace your cheeks.

Azriel's internal conflict surged as he carried you through the night sky. His thoughts swirled with a mixture of guilt, desire, and uncertainty. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was treading on thin ice, dangerously close to crossing boundaries that should never be breached.

Every beat of his wings seemed to echo the rapid pace of his heart as he held you close, feeling the warmth of your body against his. He couldn't help but wonder why he always found himself tangled in such thoughts around you. Was it because you were unlike anyone he had ever met? Or perhaps because there was a vulnerability in you that resonated with his own?

As he glanced down at you, he couldn't help but notice the faint blush on your cheeks, a sight that sent a jolt of something indescribable through him. He had to remind himself to maintain a facade of composure, to keep his emotions in check, even as every fiber of his being longed to delve deeper into the connection he felt with you.

The whispers of his shadows only added to the turmoil within him, their words a constant reminder of the forbidden desires that threatened to consume him. But despite it all, he couldn't deny the pull he felt towards you, the magnetic attraction that seemed to defy reason and logic.

As he soared through the night with you in his arms, Azriel couldn't help but wonder what this pull to you was. Only time would tell, but one thing was certain: he couldn't shake the feeling that you were destined to change everything.

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

* means smut

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Azriel x Reader

Between Worlds (part 2) (part 3) (part 4)

Forged in Fire: A New World, part 2

A City of Dreams (part 2)

Marriage-life (One-shot)

Potions & Shadows , part two, part three, part four*

Ride it* (Drabble)

Happy Mother's day* (Drabble)

Welcome Home* (Drabble)

❀•°❀°•❀

Cassian x Reader

Married to the Lord of Bloodshed (one-shot)

Stubborn* (Drabble)

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Eris x Reader

Married to Fire (One shot)

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Headcanons:

Batboys getting tattoos

"I want to get you pregnant" Crack Fic

Potions & Shadows (Part IV SMUT)

Summary: An old neighbor of Feyre's is revealed to be not who they seemed when Feyre was a child. Leading to Feyre needing the once-village apothecaries' help. Inspired by Frieren: Beyond Journey's End.

A/n: THERE'S SMUT! Just a warning before you read, I am still learning how to write smut. Seriously if someone could create a writers workshop for that, that would be amazing. Feel free to skip if you are not comfortable with smut. This takes place after the first high lord meeting in ACOWAR. Hope you all enjoy, because I was a blushing mess writing this thing.

part one, part two, part three

Word Count: 2.5k

Taglist: @cherry-cin, @sassybluebird, @aehllitas-blog

** Minors DO NOT INTERACT under the cut pls! **

Warnings: Fingering, pet names (Princess, sweetness), mild swearing, lots of repeated words. Oral. Praise. Squirting. Let me know if I'm missing any!!

Azriel had flown off into the night after that disaster of a High Lord meeting. Perhaps he was the cause for the events to turn so sour especially when he had choked a certain High Lord’s son. The male was practically begging for it, for throwing a comment like that to Mor or perhaps it was the comment he had whispered in Azriel’s ear when he throttled the son into the ground, “You smell like an elven whore”. After the meeting had adjourned and Mor beckoned to Helion’s room, the noises shared between the two just caused his mood to turn colder. As long as he was back in time for the meeting tomorrow morning, Rhys could give two shits what he did with his time. Which led him to the healer’s cottage. 

You had your silk white robe tied loosely around your body, as the moon shone upon you, creating a soft glow on your skin and rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you opened the door for him. The moment he saw you, he was silently thanking the mother that you could not scent the arousal and pent-up frustration that radiated off of his body. Azriel crept closer to you and softly murmured.

“Can we speak in private?” His hand reaches to push a strand of hair behind your ear, earning a blush from your cheeks. Azriel could hear your pounding heartbeat and the way you looked at him with a mixture of sleepiness and confusion. You simply nodded and ushered him quietly to your room. You wondered if he would even fit in the room. However surprising that he did, you cast a spell around the room to keep any noise from escaping. Azriel’s typical warm eyes were darkened. 

You wrapped your robe more securely around yourself, yet Azriel could still see the soft buds of your breasts through the sheer fabric. He quickly directed his gaze elsewhere, his cheeks flushing with heat. You noticed the tension in his posture and the shadows that seemed to move faster, swirling around him. He loomed in the small space of your humble bedroom, seeming larger than usual with his wings folded tightly against his back. 

“Azriel,” you began softly, even cautiously, “what’s wrong? Aren’t you supposed to be at the meeting?” 

Azriel didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he paced the length of the room. His boots, were heavy on the ground with each step, his entire presence overwhelming in the confined space. Finally, he stopped, facing you, his expression a mixture of frustration and something deeper-something raw and unguarded. 

“I need…” His voice was a low rumble, the words catching his throat as if he was struggling to find the right ones. To perhaps not scare you as a primal growl was pushed back. “I need to be away from them. From all of it. Just for a while.” 

You stepped closer, and your heart that thundered in your chest. The way he looked at you with those dark golden eyes, with such intensity, made your breath catch. “What happened?” 

Azriel, the one everyone thought was the most calm and collected of the inner circle, quickly lost all sense of restraint by how close you were. His gaze settled on your collarbone and then back to your watercolor eyes that seemed to shine from the creeping moonlight. A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “A lot. Too much.” He shook his head, a hand running through his dark curls. Something that he has done too many times tonight by the looks of it. The way they trousled, yet still seemed alluring. His entire presence was captivating, to say the least. “Things were said. Actions taken. And now…I need to not think.”

You understood. Sometimes the world around us was too loud. Sometimes you needed the world to quiet down, for peace to overcome you. Yet, this was something you haven’t seen in him, in his stoic exterior. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, which caused him to freeze a little as his gaze lowered to your neck again. “I’m here for you, Azriel. You’re free to speak freely.” You whispered to him softly. 

His response rattled you, heat flushed you as his words spook lowly, “And can I act freely?” He whispered, His gaze still on your neck, his eyes softening just a fraction.

Was the air in the room always this heavy? Had your heart always been this loud, like a war drum set for battle? Have you always felt this emotion? How about the heat pooling within your body?

Questions pondered you, holding your tongue, but you nodded your head yes. 

Without another word, he pulled you into an embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if you were his lifeline. You could feel the hardness of his muscles, years, even centuries of training, causing tension to coil within him. His lips brushed against your neck as a sound you’ve never made before escaped your lips when you felt him bite down. Time seemed to stand still in that moment, as if the outside world had ceased to exist, leaving the two of you in the heat of a moment. A feeling you have never felt before as he licked the bite mark, the blood that trickled slightly. When he looked up at you with those golden, hazel eyes with the blood-stained on the corner of his mouth,  Azriel shifted slightly, enough to look at you, his gaze searching yours. 

You could barely breathe, caught between the intensity of his gaze and the primal connect that surged between you. His fingers traced your jaw to the back of your neck, his touch both gentle and possessive. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered, his voice rough with need and laced with a whine as you pressed closer into him. 

“Oh how I’d worship you,” he muttered as his eyes scanned your features, perhaps waiting for a confirmation that you were okay with this, “Have you ever been with a male? Have you ever been touched or kissed?” His words made your heart flutter but you quietly muttered that you haven’t as your voice trembled. 

“I haven’t had the feeling to ever…do that sort of thing,” You whispered, those words seemed to have ignited a feeling inside him because his voice had a hint of something feral. 

“How about now,” he gently nuzzled his face into the nape of your neck as his fingers moved to caress your collarbone. Pushing the robe slightly, causing your breath to hitch. 

“You are making me feel things that I have never felt before. Things that make me feel hot and heavy,” Your words came out laced with anticipation. A rush of emotions overwhelmed you as you whispered to him, “but I’d be willing to…feel these emotions with you.” 

The answer Azriel was waiting for he nipped your neck. Another whimper escaped your lips. With a growl, his fingers traveled back to your chin lifting slightly so his lips could meet yours. Captured, into a kiss that was gentle, yet demanding. Your body reacted upon instinct, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing closer to him, feeling the roughness of his leathers pressing against the thin fabric of your robe. 

He gently lifted you into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist. Both your breaths ragged in-between rough kisses, he carried you in his arms to the bed. The world outside faded entirely as he laid you down genly, his body hovering over yours, his eyes searching yours for any hesitation. When he found none, he gently whispered in your ear. 

“Are you sure? We can always stop here,” he asked, his breath hot against your skin. 

“Yes,” you breathed, your hands raching up to tangle in his hair, pulling his down to you. 

With that, Azriel’s control snapped. His lips had descended on yours again, his hands roamed your body, pushing your robe aside. His skilled scarred fingers finding your perky buds. Tuggling gently, as your breath would hitch, he broke your kiss to travel to the small bud he was playing with. 

“So beautiful,” he groaned as he licked the bud gently, earning another whimper from you as you covered your eyes, “None of that love, don’t ever hide those gorgeous eyes from me.” You looked down at him, panting like a dog in heat.

What was this feeling and why did you feel so obsessed?

Azriel continued to torment your breasts with his rough hands. Torment, might not be the best word, in fact, it would be worship. As he would suckle on them, pinch them, lick the lingering sensitivity away. Leaving gentle nip marks that looked like small cherry blossom leaves. 

Yet, Azriel did not stop there. As his kisses descended upon your body, his markings upon your body seemed to trickle down to the pool of heat between your legs. Using both his hands, he spread your legs apart. His golden eyes meeting yours once more for confirmation, you gave a simple nod. 

“Not uh, princess, I need words,” he muttered as his head laid against your thigh. His gaze set upon you, “Let me hear that beautiful voice of yours.” He gently nipped your inner thigh and licked the spot to relieve some of the pain. 

“Please…just…touch me, relieve me of this heat” You whimpered, everything felt so warm. So overwhelming. This new feeling of passion. 

“Good girl,” Azriel muttered before planting kisses, everywhere else but the place you wanted. Gently pushing your wet panties aside, his gaze still fixated upon you. Dragging one scarred finger between your slit. Your breath hitched as you whimpered out another moan and a curse. His name was like a prayer on your tongue as he kissed that bundle of nerves. 

Azriel had been with many women in the past, but right now in this very moment, he was sure he had never experienced a taste like this. You tasted as if you were ambrosia made for the gods, leaving him eating like a man starved. Your whimpers only encourage him. His eyes closed as he rutted against the bed. If he didn’t have years of restraint, he was sure he would have came in his pants the moment your sweet juices touched his tongue that he kept sliding inside you. 

One of your hands was grasping his that was resting upon your lower abandon as if you were holding it for dear life or perhaps to ensure you could not run away. Your other hand was gripping the sheets, squeezing with your might. You felt his other hand between your legs spreading your swollen lips to slide a finger into you. As Azriel lifted his head up, revealing your juices that glistened in the moonlight on his beautiful face. 

“Now princess, you’ve never came before right?” Azriel said gently as he stroked that finger within you, pressing on your walls. Your gaze met his as you shook your head no, not sure whether words could form out of your mouth anymore. The feeling of his finger, causes warmth to build up within you. Azriel, could not believe how wet you were, you were practically flowing. Pushing down his own needs, he continued, “I’m going to talk you through it okay? I’m going to be honest, I don’t think I could fit for a while. So we're going to go really slow and ease you up so that one day. Not tonight. I could enjoy the pleasure of being in you. Keep your eyes on me the entire time princess, don’t you dare close them.” his words came out with a husky growl. A need for him to be inside you, to feel those walls clasp onto him as they were currently holding his finger tightly.

You nodded, as his gently motioned his finger inside you, keeping it shallow as he pressed against your upper wall. Another moan was earned as the room seemed to now be filled with squelches and other lewd noises. You panted, cheeks flushed, as he held his gaze on yours with a smirk. “Comfortable? Feel good, sweetness?” Azriel groaned as he looked at the wetness seeping out of you and then settled his gaze back on you. “See, I am trying to find your sweet spot, everyone is different but everyone has a spot that-” his fingers traveled deeper, keeping the same pressure until he found it. Your eyes rolled back as he kept applying pressure to that spot. Pure pleasure and relentless torment on that spot. Your walls tightened to the point where he wasn’t sure if he could move them anymore, “Relax princess,” he chuckled. You whimpered in return to his comment. Noises that sounded so lewd, noises you have never made in your three hundred years. “I’m going to speed up okay?” Azriel’s motions sped up and pressed a bit on your lower abdomen earning a silent scream from your lips as hot liquid gushed out. 

A virgin and a squirter? Mother above save him. 

You blacked out moments later, the intensity of the night and the overwhelming emotions taking their toll on your body. Azriel gently cleaned you up with a towel, his touch tender and careful not to wake you. He tucked you into bed, watching your peaceful face for a moment before heading to the restroom attached to your bedroom to take care of his own needs. Thankful that you had your own bathroom, in concern about how Madja might react to finding out he had kept her new healer up all night. 

When finished with preparing for bed, for a least a few hours, Azriel climbed into bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and feeling your warmth against him, those concerns melted away. He nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing in your soothing scent, and for the first time that night, he felt a sense of peace. 

While the night had been filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the formation of new feelings, and overwhelming emotions, there was a connection between you that both of you desperately needed. In each other’s arms, you found solace and a sense of belonging that had been missing. 

Azriel was determined to make the most of the night, with only a few hours left to enjoy your comfort. He wanted to ensure you knew you were cherished and not taken advantage of. He made a mental note to send you flowers in the morning, perhaps a tea as well for all the markings he left upon you. A gesture of sorts to show his care and the growing need for you to be his. 

With a contented sigh, Azriel closed his eyes, allowing the rhythmic sound of your breathing to lull him into a restful sleep. The moonlight cast a gentle glow over both of you.