By Moonlight | Azriel

by moonlight | azriel

summary; you come home after a long few days away.

word count; 3804

notes; I got suddenly inspired by last nights cass fic. what can I say? I’ve been wanting to write for two weeks with no energy or time, I’m so happy to finally be able to.

As the night swept away from around you, you turned, finding that Rhys was already gone as you twisted. A simple drop off, that had been it, and the dark and stars were swallowing him once again. You couldn't blame him, it was the middle of the night, and he was practically falling asleep at his desk when you’d found him. You were almost falling asleep where you stood.

Light still filled the rooms, spilling out into the inky darkness between pale pillars, and you followed the muffled voices through to the dining room. As you entered, two heads snapped up from the table, matching smiles painting across their faces as they took you in. Cassian and Nesta were sitting at the table, a half-eaten board of cheese and crackers, two empty wine bottles and a third broken into, cards scattered around them. 

“You’re home early!” Nesta perked up, and you shrugged, dropping your bag down from your shoulder to sit at your feet as you wandered over. Leaning your hip on the table, the yawn threatening to break free from you was hardly contained. 

“I worked hard to get it done quicker, you know how I hate going away for too long.” You truly did, the worst part about your job was the days away on end on missions, too silent and too lonely on missions as you spent time away from your family. 

“That’s how I trained ya’.” Cassian winked, your brows raising at him as you reached out to pluck a cracker and a slice of cheese from the platter, nibbling on the end of it. 

“How you trained me?” You flicked a loose piece of cracker at him, and it bounced off his forehead, crumbling into pieces that rained down onto his lap as his mate snickered. 

“Alright, how we trained each other.” His amendment was good enough, you were too tired to argue anything else, and he beamed at the nod you gave. Nesta chuckled again, smirking as she laid down another card on the set-up before you both. Cassian took it in, eyes widening a fraction, and then he let out a filthy curse under his breath. Nesta kicked his shin under the table, but the prideful expression only grew at his frustration. 

Swallowing down the snack, you leaned over his shoulder, examining his card through sleep-blurred eyes and an exhaustion-muddled mind. You pointed to the King of Hearts, and he was quick to lay it down. After a half-second, Nesta was letting out an equally terrible curse and Cassian kicked her ankle this time. She kicked back. 

“How are you still beating us at this game when you can barely stand up?” Your friend was not happy, her brows pulling tight as she concentrated harder on the strategy game before herself. 

“Nesta’s just mad because now in one move, I’m winning!” She stuck her tongue out at you and Cassian. “There’s some tea in the kitchen, go get a mug and go to bed. You look exhausted.”

“Just what every girl wants to hear. Always the charmer, Cass.” Despite it all, you leaned down, pressing a kiss to the top of his head as one arm wrapped around your waist to squeeze you to his side in a hug, eyes never leaving the cards. You shifted, kicking your bag to the other side of the table and pressing a matching kiss to the top of Nesta’s head. She puckered her lips and blew a kiss back, equally focused. Scooping up your bag and throwing it over one sore shoulder, you tried not to groan. 

“Goodnight, you two.”

“Night!” They sang in unison as you walked away, headed to the kitchen as a pot of hot tea called your name. “Y’know, for that comment before, you’ll never have enough moves to win later tonight, now.”

You smirked at their conversation as it faded into the background. The kitchen smelled like brewed herbs that made the cloudy tiredness of your head only thicken, your eyes feeling so heavy you could fall asleep where you stood. Grabbing two mugs from the top shelf, you poured hot tea into both, inhaling the streams of swirling steam and feeling a little tension melt from your body. 

A shower, that's what you needed before you could sleep. You were stiff and sore and achy, and a hot shower would release all of that before you could get a good night’s sleep. Maybe the whole day’s sleep as well. You’d need it.

Making your way back through the corridors, every step closer and closer to your mate made your heart swell, feeling as though it was going to burst right out of your heart. Though you’d never put your walls up against him, you both knew that the bond had to stay quiet and cold and borderline dead when you were on missions, and one of your favourite parts of coming home was getting to feel it come back to life, feeling your chest spark back to life and the warmth of his love lighting you up.

Currently, the feeling inside of your chest was utter content relaxation, steady and soft and barely there. Not the usual influx of emotions, passionate and strong and heady like usual, the kind you got when he was tired, asleep, or drunk. Your suspicions were only confirmed as you used your elbow to open the door quietly, the door scraping across soft carpet to reveal the large bedroom you shared. 

Laying on the huge Illyrian-accommodating bed, spread out across the mattress was your lover, wings folded away behind his back as he sat nestled among the piles of pillows. Plump lips parted, he was taking steady breaths, hair messy and glasses askew across his face. He was most definitely asleep, his shadows were practically motionless and they spread out across the carpet to all corners of the room, fading back to the places the candlelight didn’t reach as he had no use for them. He didn’t even flinch when the door clicked shut. 

Putting down your bag, it was abandoned to simply be sorted tomorrow instead, and the two mugs were left on the countertop by the door. Kneeling down, your knees ached as you undid the laces on your boots, taking off your boots one-by-one and flexing your toes, wiggling them now that they were free. Placing them by the much larger pair sitting by the door, the image made you smile. You hang your jacket on the coat rack next to his, and padded near-silently across the room with one hot-ceramic mug in hand to get your robe. 

Azriel didn’t stir, not as you got undressed, or put on your robe, not even as you brushed the hair away from his forehead as you leaned over him. The curl fell back down over the rim of his glasses, and you chuckled at the untameable hair. Lifting them off of his face gently, he let out a particularly rough sigh, nose scrunching as you took the glasses away, folding them up and putting them on the bedside table, atop the book he was currently working his way through. 

No shirt, only a pair of black boxers as he’d obviously fallen asleep halfway through his evening plans. Golden skin mottled with pink scars and tattoos and the occasional hidden mole. He was like artwork, a pretty mess all for you. Bed-rumpled hair, pouty lips and candlelight flickering through the room and making every hard line and dip of his body seem emphasised. 

Gods, he was a work of art. 

He was your work of art. Your love, your mess, your man to take care of.

Next, you gathered up the papers scattered around him and his pens, clearing everything from the covers to the messy surface of his desk, and making a note to get him to tidy it up tomorrow before he got stressed. The curl was back, and you brushed it away, leaving a kiss on his forehead before it fell right back. He was so beautiful, but without those stress lines marring his pretty smile and his brows pulled tight together, he was ethereal. Taking a moment to appreciate it, you ran your finger along one cheekbone, and down the bridge of his nose.

“I love you.”

He huffed a little in his sleep, like his soul had heard yours. Pulling the covers up from the other side of the bed, your side, you cleared them away, before scooping your arms up underneath his body. With a grunt and a strain that ricocheted through your entire body, you rolled him over, all six-foot-five of Illyrian goodness until he was flopping onto his stomach, cheek pressed into the new pillow and he shuffled to pull it closer to his chest subconsciously. 

He was tense, you could tell from the still-tight tuck of his wings to his back, crumpled from how he’d fallen asleep, and the taut muscles along his body. With a hand settling along mole-speckled skin between his shoulder blades, you rubbed lightly in circles, pressure building as you lowered along his spine. Like magic, as they always did, his wings drooped dramatically, spreading out along the bed and filling the space, his entire body all but melting into the bed, a trick spot on his body that always released everything he was holding onto. 

Such a burst of love exploded within your chest that your throat felt tight and your eyes almost watered, and you rubbed at your chest, trying to contain the feeling within you lest it wake him up. It would be something he’d never let you live down if you woke him up being too in love with him. Your cheeks ached from the smile on your face, but you could live with that.

You were tempted to say screw it all, to crawl into bed beside him, tuck yourself under one of those wings, under one of his arms, to kiss at his jaw and cheeks until he woke up and tugged you close. You could feel the warmth of his body, the way his legs would tangle with your own and the bump of his heart against his chest that would match your own beat for beat. You trembled a little, arms wrapping around yourself as you took a deep breath. 

No. If you didn’t have a hot shower now, you’d be locked up and tense all week, and you hated that feeling. If you weren’t going to stretch it all out, you at least had to shower. Plus, you were pretty sure there was still mud in your hair and sweat coating your body. Taking your mug of tea with you after tucking the blankets up and around his body, you made your way to the bathroom. 

It was too bright, even with only one faelight lit, and you bit back a groan at the glare of pearly white tiles and marble countertops. Stripping off the robe and leaving it on the hook on the back of the half-closed door, you turned on the shower, leaving it to heat up as steam began pouring out. Another swig of tea, and you were untangling your hair from the right braids you wore to keep it contained and out of your face while you worked. 

The rest of the bathroom felt cold as steam swirled out, surrounding you in delicate twists the way shadows normally would, affectionate and sweet and loving. The warmth they offered was much like that of Azriel’s touch. The sooner you were showered and clean, the sooner you were curling up beside him in bed. 

That was the only motivation you had for stepping under the stream of water, eyes closing as you let the warmth pour over you, soaking you from head to toe and washing away the awful grime and dirt that felt like it had been building on your skin for years. It eased a sigh from you, your body finally slumping from the tight lines it held, your arms feeling heavy as they scrubbed at your hair, washed off your body, conditioned and cleaned until you felt brand-new once again. 

As your face tipped back up into the water, heat beating down onto you, arms snaked around your waist. You jumped a little, and Azriel, silent as always, plastered himself to your back as he climbed into the shower with you. Your hands fell to muscle-bound forearms which were sealed around your waist, squeezing lightly as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. 

Turning in his tight hold, his crossed arms fell to sit in the small of your back instead, your cheek pressing to his chest, arms wrapping around him equally as tightly as water now poured down your back instead. You didn’t need to speak, to say anything, the calming feel of one calloused hand running up and down your back was more than enough. His own cheek came down to rest on the top of your head, chest inflating with a deep breath underneath you, brushing the top of your head as he exhaled. 

Shaking out his wings, water droplets bounced off of them, flying out and spattering across the tiles, the mirror, and the floor, before they were curling protectively around you, blocking out some of the harsh light you were squinting against. You stroked the bond within your chest appreciatively, and he nudged his nose against your temple in return. Never one for many words, but he always managed to make you feel like the centre of his world. 

You lingered a while longer, it could have been minutes or hours, you lost track of time while clinging to him, before he reached out to switch off the shower behind your body. Retracting one wing at a time, he pulled back, stepping out of the cubicle and running a fluffy towel over his body, before turning to face you. Reaching out, he cleaned down one leg at a time, drying you off as you balanced on his shoulders, before he was drying his way up. Fluffy cotton that made you dream of your bed, and he wrapped it around your shoulders, guiding you to the sink. 

He tugged his boxers back on, pulling wet strands of hair over your shoulders and squeezing them dry with the towel as you began to slowly apply skincare. He reached out, picking up your abandoned mug and sniffling at the contents, humming appreciatively and taking a swig. His eyes were closer to shut than open, much like your own, night hanging outside and tempting you both back into bed. Even the sky was dark tonight, clouds hanging overhead, as though even the stars were sleeping tonight. 

Tugging at the damp strands and separating them out, he combed through, and rubbed oils and products through your hair as he went, until they were smooth and clean and you had one less job to do. As soon as he had finished, he was leaning in, pressing a kiss to your neck, face burying into the crook as you leaned back into him. 

“Shall we go to bed now?”

“Mhm.” Muffled by a yawn you tried to cover, the words broke off into a sharp giggle as Azriel leaned down to scoop you up under your legs, one hand supporting your back as he carried you back to the bedroom. The lights went out automatically behind you, and only the golden glow of a candle almost burned out was left flickering to light you both up. He was smirking tiredly, and he nuzzled at your cheek, pressing a kiss there as he walked. 

You almost made it, your arms looped around his neck to play with the curls at the base of his neck, when he stumbled. Tripping over his own feet as his feet fluttered, the two of you tumbled down onto the bed, your body splaying out across it before he landed on top of you, only his wings bracing his fall, and your laughter was mixed together as you tangled in the sheets.

“So elegant, spymaster.” He only huffed at your teasing, dragging himself up weakly and resting his cheek against your chest, the weight of him pressing you into the bed, a weight you’d missed so terribly while you were away. 

“You’re home early.”

“What can I say, I missed you.” He smiled against your skin, pressing a kiss to the spot above your heart. 

“You should have told me, sent a message, or something. I’d have stayed up for you.”

“I didn’t want you to stay up, I want you to rest. Gods know you need it, sometimes.” If there was one single flaw Azriel had, it was that he tended to push himself to the limits whenever constantly, with no concern for his health. You’d known him to go days without real sleep before almost collapsing, and maybe he was working on it now, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still have rough patches. Your fingers dragged through his hair again. “I’m sorry I woke you, I tried to be quiet.”

“You were.” Another kiss to your collarbone, and he reached up until his face was resting within your neck. “I woke up because I felt you. I always know when you're near me, my love. I missed you, too.”

Your cheeks warmed, and it never ceased to amaze you how he could always make you feel like those first few months of your relationship, no matter how many years passed. “What were you working on?”

He jolted slightly, as though he’d fallen asleep again during that lull in the conversation, and he sniffled as he rose back to consciousness. Your hands moved from his hair, rubbing along his shoulders and his arms where they wrapped around you, a silent apology. “Hm?”

“I just asked what you were working on, that’s all.” Your whisper dropped even lower, your nails running lightly along his skin and he shuddered happily at the feeling, delicate scratches making goosebumps rise. A bloom of bliss unfurled in your chest, his hand coming up to rub over the exact spot, like he knew just where his feelings settled in your heart. 

“Oh.. just some of your mission reports, so you don’t have to do as much paperwork.” His shoulders moved in what you could only assume was a shrugging motion, diluted drowsily. “I did what I could, but you still have to do all the brief ‘n’ stuff.”

Your smile was beyond your control, hidden in his hair as you pressed your face into the top of his head, sighing happily at him. As you kissed his hair, he yawned. 

“Gods, I hate being away from you.” The words were carried on the happiest of tones, a kind of honey-sweet voice he only ever brought out in moments like these. Laced with tenderness and vulnerability and love, it was the kind of drug you’d become addicted to from the very first time. 

“I’m home now.”

Azriel hummed, nodding. “Now stay forever.”

“What about your missions, huh? When you go again?” Azriel’s head shook this time, or as best it could with his face in your neck, and one scarred hand came out to adjust your grip on him, guiding one hand back up to his hair not-so-subtly. You did as asked, fingers tangling in messy onyx locks, rubbing at his scalp once again. 

“No. No more missions. We’ll just live in this bed forever.”

“Yeah? What about food and drink?” These were the moods you loved with your mate, when the last of his walls came down, when the silly side of himself, the childish side he’d never been able to indulge in came out. Playful and loving and needy, it was your favourite part of his soul to have unlocked. 

“We have that half-drunk tea in the bathroom. We’ll survive.”

You could only smile, eyes rolling fondly, and silence took over once again. Dragging himself up, he lay down by your side instead now, legs tangling with yours, a wing settling across your body as his fingers found your hips, settling over the bare skin and sliding around to sit at the top of your ass. His large hands stretched out, covering your lower back too, tugging you closer until your chests were pressed together. 

You tilted your head enough to blow out the candle beside the bed, two of his fingers quickly turning your face back to him, and he leaned in, a soft kiss pressed to your lips. It was the final piece, slotting back to you as you came home, to him, to love, your lips working slowly together in a kiss that said it all. 

Welcome home.

I missed you. 

I love you.

A whole conversation without words as your hand sat on his cheek, as his wing settling over your body just the way you’d wanted it, and you snuggled into the feeling of him. He pulled back, and you chased closer, catching his lips once again, his sigh spanning across your skin as his face twisted. His tongue smoothed slowly over your lower lip, begging for access, pleading for more, and you let him. 

Slow, sweet, sensual. Every part of your body touched some part of him outside, as his very presence filled you from your heart, inside to out. He grunted, your hand smoothing down his chest, muscles tensing under your fingers, until you were both panting, pulling away for desperate drags of breath into your lungs. 

Your thumb swept over his lips, wiping away the kiss as he smiled, nudging back in until you were nose to nose. 

Silence filled the room as soon as darkness did, only his steady deep breaths and the occasional rustle of his wings when he twitched to break the all-encompassing quiet.

It was you who flinched this time, when he spoke; “D’you see Cass and Nesta on your way in?”

“I did.” You couldn't help it, leaning in to place another kiss on his lips, another, starving for his love as he chuckled, squeezing your hip in warning. You were both tired, you were both almost falling asleep, and if you kept it up, neither of you would see a wink before the sun was rising. The second squeeze was a promise, a promise as his hand smoothed up your waist, thumb running under your bare breast without going further, a promise that tomorrow night you’d get everything and more. “They were playing cards.”

Your throat was raspy and cracked, and it only helped that his was equally affected - deep and rumbly - and he replied. “They’re practising for game night next week.”

“We’re still gonna’ kick their asses.”

“‘Course we are, love. We’re unstoppable.”

Heyyyy could you do a Drabble for Azriel 🖤

Where the reader has an obsession with his shadows and loves when they wrap around them

Watcher

Azriel x reader

Warnings: none

Pulling the blanket up onto the couch more you tuck your legs under yourself. Your book starts to slip out of your hand since your focus is on the pesky corner of the blanket that keeps slipping. Before the book can fully slip from your grasp a shadow wraps itself around the cover and your fingers.

With the biggest grin plastered across your face you stare at the whisp of darkness twirling around you affectionately. Another fixes the pesky blanket corner for you, pulling the blanket up to rest snugly around your shoulders.

You finally lean back into the cushions to enjoy your book. The two shadows playing with your hair like Azriel would.

Your mate was currently up at Windhaven with the Rhysand and Cassian. Looking into what situation you had no clue. They started blending together over the last few months.

As you had kissed him goodbye this morning Azriel couldn’t help but chuckle as his shadows seem to fight each other. “What?” You laughed out. Azriel kissed you again, saying against your lips, “They’re fighting over who gets to stay with you today.”

Three of them had won over the others. Some of them a little scared after their master had reprimanded them for being unruly. You liked to name the shadows when they stayed with you. They were happy to go along with your silly antics for the day. It was a nice break from their usual job.

While the shadows played with your hair you felt yourself drifting off. It was like having Azriel with you. Their cool touch so much like his. When you had first met Azriel after Rhys brought them back from Illyria you had been shy around him. Unsure of the shadows.

Once you got used to them you couldn’t help but be comforted by their presence. The shadows watched over you, protected you, and made you happy. All at Azriel’s command.

One of the shadows brushed against your forehead. Cooling your head as your eyes fluttered shut. The other two shadows worked to make you more comfortable for your nap. One gently took your book placing it on the table while the other tucked you in like Az would.

The shadows snuggled up to you, resting on your chest as they watched over you.

Hours later Azriel came home. He called out your name but was quickly met with one of the shadows he left with you. It aimed for his mouth to silence him. Azriel gave the dark whisp a stern look as it skidded to a halt, timidly shrinking back before pointing in the direction of the sitting room.

Azreil followed the shadow to you. The other two on guard, relaxing once they see their master standing over you. They returned to his shoulders to the rest of the group with whispers of your day together. Azriel smiled down at you, softly running his fingers through your hair.

You lean into his touch letting out a soft hum. Azriel leaned down to pick you up and his shadows swarm to help. Moving your blanket, adjusting your sweater, and making sure your neck is supported as Azriel lifts you. You smile in your sleep. Knowing Azriel’s touch along with his shadows bringing you comfort. Knowing you’re safe in his embrace.

Skyfall | Azriel x reader [Masterlist]

Summary: Azriel's mate falls from the sky, badly injured and refusing to speak of who she is.

A/N: I don't know what it is with me and fics where an Illyrian reader somehow suffers drastic injuries to the wings, but here we go again.

Idk how many parts this series will have yet, but let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. ✨

Warnings: talk of and description of injuries and violence, eventual SMUT (18+), please check each chapter for specific warnings

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Read [Part 1] here!

Part 2 (coming soon)

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last updated: march 2024

♡ Megumi Fushiguro - Jujutsu Kaisen ♡

I decided to create a Megumi appreciation post since Satoru Gojo steals all of the spotlight from this beautiful boy (ง'̀-‘́)ง

Golden hour

Final chapter

a/n welcome to the final chapter! I’m extremely sorry for the wait but I hope the ones who still enjoy this will have fun reading regardless. Thank you for joining me on this journey. 🤍

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Azriel was sitting in his office. The night was in full bloom as he flipped through yet another stack of papers. He never complained about it. Work has always been something he has enjoyed. A way to feel useful and needed. A way for him to feel himself, even if what Azriel did, didn’t paint him as the best of males. A strange noise, coming from the other side of the door, made him lift his head, and when the sound echoed through the room again with a frown on his face, Azriel stood up.

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The IC by tangerine.eileen on IG 😍

Edited to add that you can purchase this print on their Etsy. Link is in their ig bio ❤️