Broken Bonds - Ch 1.

Broken Bonds - ch 1.

a/n: hopefully a series :)))) stay with me for the start here okay guys good things come to those who wait 🤡

summary: as azriel leaves for a long mission in vallahan, you find that clinging onto old bonds does nothing to heal them.

warnings: reader's pregnant, falling out of love, angst. dark mental health themes.

word count: 1594.

pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // epilogue?

***

The Night Court was abuzz with activity, as preparations for Azriel's departure on a long mission to Vallahan were underway. The news had come suddenly, leaving everyone scrambling to get everything in order. Azriel was to leave in two days' time, and the thought of being apart from him for so long was almost too much to bear. You had begged and pleaded with Rhys to not let Azriel go, delay the mission, shorten the mission, anything. Obviously, he did not budge on the decision, but you could imagine the strain on a High Lord that war would bring, especially since he also had Nyx now. Ultimately, you did know the importance of his mission. Mor had returned to Velaris as the Night Court Emissary to Vallahan, but she needed backup and Azriel's skillset along with his ability to fly was perfect. He had left for many dangerous missions in the past, but when you had asked Rhys about the duration of this one, you were shocked to hear him say "A year? Maybe two".

Your child would be born before your mate returned.

>>>

You and Azriel had been drifting apart for a while, the once intense passion between you now replaced by a strained silence. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when things had started to change, but you both knew that something was different. Maybe it was your last wedding anniversary, when you had fought over not seeing each other for months due to clashing hours, but that was years ago. A century was a long time to spend in a romantic relationship with just one person, let alone almost two centuries.

You had learned that you were 3 weeks pregnant, a fact that you had been keeping hidden from Azriel for fear of driving him even further away. When Madja had come to heal one of Cassian's injuries that had knocked him unconscious, she had asked to have a word with you afterwards.

"You're with child, y/n," Madja said, smiling as she pulled you into a private room.

"I'm pregnant?" you were in complete disbelief. You and Az had barely even seen each other lately because you were either asleep when he got home, or the other way around. Your immediate thought was to run to Azriel, hug him, kiss him, congratulate him. He was going to be a father. You were going to be parents!

Then you remembered. You two were barely speaking now. A few days ago, there was a disagreement over a dinner date that Azriel was almost two hours late to, and when he finally came, he seemed distracted and uninterested. You had only just started your entrées when Rhys burst into the restaurant with some urgent news, drawing Azriel away and leaving you to eat alone.

"Yes, y/n. Oh, I'm ecstatic for you!" Madja wrapped her delicate arms around your shoulders, but you were frozen. There was nothing worse than not being able to talk to the one you longed for the most.

After your experience with Madja, the only person who really noticed was Feyre, who had asked you what the matter was immediately, and yet again when you refused your favourite tarts. After you told her everything, she had immediately asked Helion to travel to Velaris and help mask your new scent so no one would find out about your pregnancy until you told them. The thought of bringing a child into a war-torn world with parents whose relationship was already on such shaky ground made you feel sick with worry.

However, despite the tension between you, Azriel was still the only person you wanted to be with. You were mates after all, and husband and wife too. You couldn't imagine a life without him, even if it seemed like that was where you were headed. Growing up in the Illyrian camps, books were scarce, but stories traveled by word of mouth. You had heard about the beauty of mating bonds, the love, the desire these couples had, but also the sorrow that sometimes broke the same bonds, the disasters, the catastrophes. They said losing your mate was like losing yourself.

So as you watched him pack his bags, you couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over you. The future felt uncertain, and you didn't know how things would turn out. Would you end up like one of the females in the legends you heard as a young girl, so broken by the loss of their mate that they died young and unhappy and unfulfilled?

Flashbacks of better times flooded your mind as you watched Azriel move about the room. The way his eyes would light up when he saw you, the way he would wrap his arms around you and hold you close. It all seemed so distant now. Your afternoons reading by the fire, training together, heavy breathing but content as you walked up the House of Wind's stairs together, just talking and laughing. You remembered the moments where your relationship was new, so fragile you hadn't dared to tell anyone, the two of you sneaking off for just a moment of alone time.

You remembered the day you were mated, oh, how happy and in love you both were. The world had seemed so full of possibility then, and you had both believed that your happiness would last forever. Azriel's whispered promises still echoed against your skin, the memory of where he first murmured them, when your bodies were entwined, and your hearts were beating in sync, was still strong. Back then, the mating bond between you was like a beacon, guiding you to a happier future. You both deserved a better future... Now though? It was dull.

Things had changed. Azriel was leaving for a mission that could potentially be dangerous, last for years, and you were one month pregnant with a child that you didn't know if you could raise on your own.

On the morning of his departure, you couldn't hold back your tears any longer. You fell into Azriel's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. He instinctively wrapped himself around you, shielding the both of you with his wings.

"I don't want you to go," you whispered through your tears. You could hear his heart beating through his armor, comforting and steady, so familiar.

"I know, y/n. I'm sorry," he kissed your forehead and your skin tingled. "I have to though," Azriel replied softly, regretfully, his arms tightening around you. "I don't want to leave either."

You murmured inaudibly, sniffing.

"This mission is important," he continued, hands circling your back soothingly. "We need the Queen of Vallahan to sign the peace treaty as soon as possible."

"But what about us?" you asked suddenly, looking up at him. Were you selfish? Your world on the brink of war and you were worried about your love life?

"What of our relationship?"

Azriel's expression was pained as he looked down at you. "I don't know," he said honestly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Things have been difficult between us, and I don't know how to fix them."

You wanted to tell him about the baby, to beg him to stay with you and start a family.

"As many little ones as you want, love," Azriel had once replied, smiling at you lovingly. You were sitting on the kitchen counter happily, his oversized shirt falling off your shoulders. He had kissed your left shoulder, exactly on your scar, your skin tingling. He pulled the shirt back up but this had only led to the other side falling down more, causing him to smirk a little as he adjusted it, lest you accidentally show more skin than intended if someone made the unfortunate decision to walk into the kitchen that morning.

"But my dear mate, I want what you want," you had replied, smiling, reaching for his hands to kiss their scars.

As you opened your mouth, the words wouldn't come because you knew deep down that it wouldn't change anything. You were a little selfish, but not ignorant nor sabotaging. Prythian would need all the allies it could get, and you were hopeful that with Azriel's persuasion, Vallahan's queen would finally sign.

You slowly pulled away from Azriel, wiping your tears. His eyes softened to an expression almost recognisable. An expression that almost reminded you of your past. Almost.

"I love you, y/n," Azriel said after a while. You smiled sadly, reaching for his hands to kiss their scars like you used to do.

"I love you too, Azriel," you replied, the dull bond in your mind slowly reigniting. Azriel gave you a kiss, longer than all the ones you had shared in the many months of your previous rough patches, and for those few wonderful seconds you felt the spark again, almost like new. He rested his forehead against yours, whispering, "I'll be safe, I promise". The two of you stayed like that for a while before you heard Rhys calling him and the noisy flap of wings from just outside your balcony window.

With one last glance at you, Azriel turned his back with his belongings, pausing at the window when,

"Don't forget me," you called, half-smiling.

"I couldn't if I tried," Azriel replied, before soaring into the sky.

You heard his powerful wings thumping as he soared from the balcony, away from his mate and away from his future child.

As you placed your hand on your stomach, you thought to yourself that maybe things would work out, maybe there was still a chance for you and Azriel to be happy together.

It seemed that only time would tell.

Ghost.

summary: azriel visits your old home after its destroyed during the second fae war.

warnings: this got a tad dark. mentions of war and his mate (you)'s death (off-page), and an unborn child.

word count: 1313.

***

Azriel returned to the home he had shared with you, his heart heavy with grief and anguish. The Second Fae War had ravaged the Night Court and left behind a trail of destruction. As he stepped through the door, his eyes fell upon the ruins that lay before him. The walls were cracked, the roof had caved in, and the once-beautiful garden was now nothing but a wasteland, the roses Elain had gifted you, the ones that the two of you had spent hours tending to, were now nothing but ashes.

Azriel's heart shattered as he gazed upon the ruins of what had once been his home. He walked through the debris, his footsteps echoing through the empty house. He saw the old picture frames that used to adorn the walls, and memories of his mate flooded his mind.

There was one picture that stood out from the rest, a picture of you and him on your wedding day. Azriel reached out to touch it, but his hand only touched the broken glass that lay on the floor, the picture underneath dull and burned.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions that raged inside him. His siphons flared, and he itched to unsheathe Truthteller, but as his fingers twitched, the flashbacks began. He saw himself and his mate as they had once been, happy and in love. He was about to become a father.

He remembered the way you had smiled at him, the way you had laughed at his jokes, the way you had held him close in your arms. He remembered the way you had kissed him, the taste of your lips, the feel of your soft hands against his marred ones. He remembered the whispered promises, and the whispered sins. The moments he loved, and the unloved ones.

The days and nights you two spent tangled up in crisp, white sheets, exploring each other's bodies until the sun rose. The days and nights where you had cried so hard, begged and pleaded for Azriel to not leave to the point where your throat was raw. You did everything to stop the torture as Azriel put himself on the front line, again and again, as Azriel pushed himself too far, again and again.

He supposed that now all he had left were memories, and they were not enough to ease the pain he felt. What wouldn't he give for one last moment with you?

He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he let out a cry of agony. Lifting Truthteller out of the sheathe you had crafted, he stabbed it into the floorboards, rotted and crumbling, channeling the little energy he had left to plunge the knife deep, his siphons flaring blue, bouncing off the decrepit walls.

"Why did you leave me?" he whispered to the empty house. "Why did you have to go?"

Azriel knew the answer, but it did little to ease the pain he felt. You, his mate had died in the war, a casualty of the senseless violence that had torn their world apart. You were supposed to be safe. A craftswoman, a healer. You were never supposed to be on the front line, so what had happened?

He knelt there for what seemed like hours, until his legs cramped, and his eyes drooped. When he finally got up, he knew that he had to visit one last place. Tears in his eyes, he turned his head, coming eye to eye to the room where he was last happy.

The nursery.

He faced it, the door with the name of their unborn son still painted on it, Feyre's charm for everlasting paint somehow holding when his numerous wards did not. The door still stood tall and unbroken amidst the chaos, like a cruel reminder. Cobwebs hung from the hinges, the star-shaped window in the middle was shattered, but the frame and his son's name, remained virtually untouched.

As he reached towards the doorhandle, the memories of you flooded back. Memories of your laughter, your touch, your smile, your ability to do good and see good in everyone. This remarkable female, his remarkable mate, his remarkable wife, who would have been a mother like never seen before.

But the happiness was brief, because then came the memories of your death. Then came the memories of the way your body had gone cold in his arms, had gone limp in his arms. Then came the memories that detailed how he had watched the light that he loved so much leave your eyes, the blood on his hands yours.

He sank to the ground again, just shy of stepping inside the nursery, body wracking with sobs. Most of his family was gone, the Night Court's remaining allies were unhelpful now, weak themselves. And of the remaining 4 courts, each was depleted in their own way, almost entirely destroyed and unable to support any more than their own dwindling populations.

His mate and his unborn child were gone, taken from him by a war that seemed to have no end.

Azriel didn't know how to go on, how to keep fighting when everything he cared about was gone. There was no point in surviving without joy.

But then Azriel remembered something. And that thing reminded him that he had a duty to fulfill, a war to fight.

He thought long and hard, clung to this small beacon of hope that had graced his conscious thoughts. There were few people alive to fight for. Some of the Inner Circle's loved ones who made it, some of the Inner Circle itself.

Then he thought about the ones who didn't make it, the friends and family he had known for centuries. He would fight for them too.

He first vowed to visit them soon, bring them a rose or two, give them a proper sendoff. Then, he vowed that no one else in his life would receive the same damned fate you did.

And so, he forced himself to stand, to take one last look at the ruined home that had once been filled with love and laughter, filled with the promise of new beginnings, and a family.

Azriel turned and walked away, his steps heavy and slow. His mind was clearer, brighter now, and he knew that the pain of the war would never leave him, that the memories would haunt him forever, but he also knew that he had to keep going, to keep fighting.

His thigh had stopped bleeding now, the arrow head crusted with his blood. His head was not as heavy as it was that morning. His wings were still torn, his shoulder dislocated, but he couldn't spare an ounce of sympathy for himself. He was a monster. He had tortured and killed, had hunted and stalked. Perhaps the Cauldron thought he deserved such a fate, and who was he to disagree?

As he walked away from the ruins of his home, Azriel knew that he would never forget his mate, that he would always carry her memory with him. But he was not the Night Court's Spymaster for nothing. He knew could not let his grief consume him, he had to keep going, no matter how hard it was, because that would mean losing himself, and he wouldn't dare lose the thing you loved most.

He ran a mental finger over your words, his beacon of hope, his saving grace.

"Whatever happens, promise me you won't dwell," you said, the evening before Azriel was to leave for the Winter Court. You had heard Cassian and Rhys in the meeting room earlier that day, planning to divert supplies and visit the Illyrian camps for recruitments, but you knew nothing else. "Promise me you won't let whatever may or may not be coming render you to merely a husk of your old self. I love you, Azriel, and I will never stop, and I just know our son will love you too."

Baking

summary: you and azriel bake a cake for your son's birthday.

warnings: none?

word count: 306.

You and Azriel were in the kitchen, baking a cake for your son's 2nd birthday. The two of you were like a well-oiled machine, working together seamlessly to measure out ingredients and mix them together in perfect harmony.

As you worked, you chatted and laughed with your mate, reminiscing. Azriel couldn't help but admire you as you mixed the batter, covered in flour but the happiest he'd seen you in a while, your hair falling in loose waves around your face and your eyes sparkling with joy.

"So," he said, leaning in closer to you, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Are you going to let me lick the bowl when we're done?"

You laughed, a musical sound that made Azriel's heart skip a beat. "I don't know, Az," you teased. "You might have to fight me for it."

Azriel grinned, his eyes flickering with amusement. "I'm up for the challenge," he said, winking at you.

You worked together in silence for a few moments, your movements fluid and synchronized. As you poured the batter into the cake pan, Azriel reached out and took your hand, his thumb tracing small circles on your palm.

"Thank you for doing this with me," he said softly. "I love spending time with you."

You smiled; your cheeks flushed with happiness. "I love spending time with you too," you replied, squeezing his hand gently before bringing it up and kissing his scars.

As the cake baked in the oven, you and Azriel set to work on the frosting. You worked together to whip the butter and sugar together, your movements slow and deliberate, stopping once in a while to check the cookbook Feyre lent you.

As you worked, Azriel couldn't help but steal glances at you. He loved the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, and the way your lips curved into a perfect bow.

"Hey," he said suddenly, breaking the silence between you. "Do you remember the first time we baked together?"

Your eyes lit up with fond remembrance. "Of course I do," you replied. "It was that apple pie we made for your mother's birthday."

Azriel chuckled, shaking his head, the memory still fresh in his mind. "Yeah, we burnt the crust so badly she had to hack at it with a kitchen knife."

You giggled, your laughter ringing through the kitchen. "But it was still delicious," you said. "And we had so much fun making it."

Azriel nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "We always have fun together," he said. "No matter what we're doing."

You smiled at him, your eyes shining with love. "I know," you said. "And I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else. I wouldn't want to be mated to anyone else, Azriel."

As you finished frosting the cake and placed it in the fridge to cool, Azriel pulled you into his arms, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss.

"I love you," he murmured.

Draco Malfoy - Masterlist 📜

💗 - fluff, 🌒 - angst, 🍒 - smut

Cliche 💗: you and draco ditch a party...

Faking It 💗🌒: a little fake dating with beloved d.m, (eventual) friends to lovers... // pt 2.

It's a Match! 💗: mugglecollege! au. you and your roommate have a little competition to get the most tinder matches...

Romeo and Juliet 💗: highschool! au. you and draco are cast as romeo and juliet in your highschool play...

Keep laughing, because it's a beautiful sound 🌒: draco writes his last letter to you.

Keep laughing, because it’s a beautiful sound.

a/n: a first attempt at an angsty letter 😐😐 yes, im indulging all you lucky ducks with never seen before exclusive angst content.

warnings: there are inaccuracies, lets pretend voldemort kills scrimgeour and ignore that the timeline is wrong 😘

word count: 451.

____________________________________________________

Dearest, y/n.

- 

Happy Anniversary, love. Or rather, sad anniversary. I hate that the worst event of my life occurs on what was the best day of my life.

Yes, I know. I am stupid and shut people out. I don’t like to admit I’m wrong, I’m cold sometimes, and you could probably list a million more faults and even though I’d protest, you’d be right. I miss that about you, your brutal honesty but I miss all of you beyond what words could convey. 

I haven’t seen you in over a year because of him, but he said it was to protect you. God, y/n. God, I wish it were any other way, I wish I could somehow steal a Time-Turner and go back and protect you from all of it. All I want is your safety.

You’re so far from me now, but I hope you’re safe and happy. Promise me that you’re safe and happy.  

The Dark Lord (as Father has forced me to call him) keeps me from knowing anything important. He says it’s because I’m not ready. Father says that, I mean. I don’t think Voldemort cares about me anymore. He used me to try kill Dumbledore and now I’m just discarded. I tried to stop him, y/n. I did, I promise you I tried. 

But you know all this. You knew I wouldn’t be able to kill Scrimgeour (Voldemort’s did that himself.), but now, in the eyes of every Death Eater I walk past, my father, him, I’ve failed. Between you and me? I’m glad I did because that was one of my last moments with you, right before the battle.

I’m sending this letter by owl to your parents now. They’ll put it in a place I hope you will be able to find, but I know you won’t read it. Because you can’t read it.

Every night I hate myself a little more for letting you go. 

You’re laughing at how cheesy that was. But please keep laughing because it’s a beautiful sound and I think we all need some beauty right now.

Love you always,

D.M.

- 

P.S: It’s now the 2nd of May 1999. Almost the 3rd because I’ve been up so long thinking if I should even write this note, but by now we both know I’ll always have more to say when it comes to you, so here it is. It’s been exactly a year since I found out you died, and three since your actual death. This is my 12th letter. I don’t want to say this is my last, but I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I love you. I’ll see you soon.

________________________________________________________

can't wait for pat 2 of broken bonds! soooo good my heart hurts lol in my head the reader leaves velaris while azriel is gone maybe bc she hears rumors that the queen has taken an illyrian as a lover or something and when azriel is back he's like wtf why did no one tell me my nate is gone and he's kinda spiraling and searches for her for months and finally he finds he in helions court but when he sees her he sees helion coming towards her with a baby wrapped up in his arms and he assumes reader had a baby with helion and just like angssst 👀👀👀

HHAHAHA this is like my fancfic of a fanfic lol anyways cant wait for part two !

ahh thank you anon 🥰🥰!! tysm to everyone who read broken bonds 🩷🩷 ik i said im on hiatus but to celebrate 110 followers (crazy !!!!) pt 2 is officially in progress + its looking like a 3 part series rn

still will be putting tumblr on the backburner for study though 😘😘