Shadowsinger - Tumblr Posts

if u're a gwynriel shipper plz scroll and dni

Calling all elriels I have a question to ask. Why do you guys think az's shadows r so wary of gwyn ??

Azriel: Allow me to introduce myself.

Azriel: My name is Azriel.

Azriel: So if any of you have anything else you’d like to say to my high lady, I will drag you outside and we will handle this Night Court Style.

Cassian: Can you keep a secret? 

Azriel: Do you know anything about my life? 

Cassian: No, I don't. Good point.

hi! i saw ur taking requests and was wondering if you could do something with azriel and him finding out the reader is his mate please (basically just him being a cute over protective bat boi)

A/n: Sure baby 🧡 Constructive Criticism is always welcome, please be polite xx Sorry this took so long I've been heaps busy amd had no motivation. Enjoy!

Free Solstice

"Mor!" Feyre's voice rang through the estate.

"Feyre!" She called back from her spot on the couch next to Cassian. Cassian let out a wince at her voice in his ear and she scoffed dismissively at him.

Feyre swept into the room, paint and flour staining her fingers.

"What have you been up to?" Cassian asks raising a brow and Azriel gives a low, barely audible chuckle from his seat on the other couch.

"Mor did you say Y/n was planning to come round for the day on the Solstice?" Feyre asks, ignoring the comments on her appearance.

Y/n was an Illyrian female who had her wings clipped when she was young. Mor had run into her in an escape attempt from one of the less progessed Illyrian camps and offered her safety in a small apartment in Velaris.

Since then Y/n had become very close to the Inner Circle, but especially to Mor who made it a point to visit Y/n every day and make sure she was comfortable and happy in her new home.

Mor slid her eyes to Azriel sneakily. Since Y/n had started to be around them more often she had noticed a change in Azriel's behaviour.

He was louder around her, came out of his shell a bit more and he had warmed up to her faster than she had ever seen him do with anyone.

"Yes, if that's okay with everyone. Else she'll be alone and honestly I don't like the thought of leaving her alone on the first holiday since her escape. Or any holiday for that matter." Mor sat up straight as she spoke, glancing cautiously at everyone.

"What are you talking about?" Rhysand's voice sounded as he entered the room behind Feyre, "Of course we're all okay with it." He grinned cheekily and wrapped his arms around his Lady's middle.

"Invite her Mor! Everyone loves her. Besides I already got her a gift." Feyre adds and Mor grins at them.

"Great! I was planning on visiting her this afternoon. Anyone care to tag along?"

🔸️

"I said anyone not all of you! Her home is not big enough for everyone without it being cramped." Mor complained as they walked through the streets of the City of Starlight in a big, intimidating, messy clump.

"Y/n won't care. She loves us." Cassian shrugged indifferently, amusement written across his face as Mor continued to scowl.

She, once again, took a sneaky glance at Azriel only to see him sporting a grin as they continued on their way.

"Getting excited Az?" Mor teased and his grin was replaced by confusion.

"For the solstice?"

"I meant for going to see Y/n, but making a move on her on Solstice seems something to look forward to as well." Mor joked. By this time, everyone was in their own conversation and trailing slightly behind the two.

"A move?" He inquired, red beginning to tint his face.

Mor smiled. Contrary to popular belief, she was happy he was developing feelings for her. It meant he was moving on to someone who could give him what she couldn't. And they were going to be adorable together.

"Don't think I don't see the way you look at her Mister. The way you act around her. You're like Cassian, but a gentleman when she's around. No turtle shell." She nudged his side with her elbow and was shocked into a silence when he chuckled.

"I'm not going to make a move Mor. I have a foolproof plan. Not say anything and hope she falls in love with me." Az shrugged and Mor giggled.

"You're hopeless!"

🔸️

An excited squeal left Y/n's mouth as she threw open the door to Mor, the High Lord and Lady and everyone's favourite Illyrians.

She moved out the way to let them all enter and they filed into her lounging room, taking up all the seats.

"I didn't expect you all to be over! Did anyone want something to eat?" She offered as she sat on the arm of the chair next to Cassian.

Cassian wrapped an arm around her waist and looked up at her with a cheeky grin.

"Cooking for me sweetheart? You shouldn't have!" He winked. Cassian was always very flirty with Y/n, but it was only a joke.

Azriel didn't like it. He bit down on his tongue to stop himself from growling. He was annoyed with himself. It's never been difficult for him to keep his features schooled. What was it about this female that caused him to lose control so easily?

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she still had a bright smile on her face.

"What would everyone like? Actually I have some raspberry brownies I made yesterday, if you don't mind them being a little cold? They're still quite fresh." She stood from her spot next to Cassian and gestured towards her kitchen.

"You are an angel!" Cassian exclaimed and Y/n just shook her head, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Everyone cheered at her suggestion and she moved towards the kitchen. As she walked, Azriel could see the scars on her wings and back from when they clipped her. He had a sudden urge to go to that camp and rip apart everyone who let that happen to her.

A few moments later she reappeared with brownies and everyone jumped up, crowding the small table she had set them on.

"I'm afraid there isn't much to do around here. I still need to get a few Solstice gifts so maybe we could head out into town?" Y/n spoke and they all laughed at her sweetness.

"Y/n, you are too sweet for your own good." Rhys told her with a chuckle and everyone nodded in agreement.

"It's easy to be an accomodating person when you grew up knowing what it was like to be shunned and neglected." She gave a shrug and the Inner Circle exchanged worried looks.

It was also easy to worry about a person who never had anyone to worry about her before.

"We'd love to go shopping with you Y/n." Azriel stated firmly and Mor and Feyre eyed him carefully.

"Brilliant! We can all be together for a while, but then we have to split up so you don't see what I get you." She ushered everyone up and towards the door, grabbing a small satchel on her way out.

Moments later they were walking through the strips in town, colours and lights and music everywhere.

Life everywhere.

"So who are you struggling to buy for Y/n?" Cassian asked with a nudge that, again, made Azriel bit his tongue to keep from losing it at his 'brother'.

"Mor and Rhys." She admitted sheepishly and Rhys gave a fake offended look.

She muttered a sorry, but Rhys just laughed and reached around to pat her on the shoulder and let her know it was okay.

"We should stop and get a drink!" Mor remarked before gripping her friend and pulling her into a nearby pub.

As Mor oulled her away, Y/n gripped tight onto Azriel's elbow and dragged him along too.

"Get him!" She ordered, nodding to Cassian.

Azriel chuckled at her demand and pulled Cassian along with him by the shirt.

He joined the females at the bar and ordered and paid for himself and Y/n.

"You didn't have to do that Az." She told him, quietly, red tinting her cheeks.

"I know. I wanted to." He tried to shrug nonchalantly, but the blush on her cheeks was screaming at him to press his lips to each cheek.

'Woah. Where did that come from?' He thought to himself. He knew he harboured some feelings for her, but that was...

"We've lost Feyre and Rhys!" Mor exclaimed and Y/n and Azriel were brought out of their stupor.

"Oh well, that's alright, we were going to split up anyways." Y/n said decidedly after looking around.

"Y/n." Azriel's deep voice called and she returned her attention to him.

He pushed her drink across the counter to her and she gave a sweet smile.

"Any ideas on what to get Rhys?" She asked him and he smiled back at her.

"Some kind of sentimental shit. He'll eat that right up." He joked and they both laughed.

She took a thoughtful sip from her drink then placed it down again.

"What about a locket? On one side I could have carved an image of us. On the other, Just me and Rhys. It might be a bit small though... it could be circular, with the Night Court Insignia engraved on the front." She seemed to vomit the words without even thinking.

Azriel was in awe.

"How do you do that?" He gaped and she raised a brow.

"What?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped. He looked around once more.

"We've lost Mor and Cassian." He pointed out, kicking himself for being so unobservant. So lost in the female before him.

"That's alright. You and I can go get Rhys' present ordered then. Then we'll go for a walk and see if we can find something for Mor." She lifted herself off of her stool and skipped towards the door.

Azriel followed without a second thought, a smile spreading across his face.

As they walked through a strip filled with clothing stores, they began to move closer and closer to each other.

Y/n glanced down at his hands. She had wanted to hold it, but she'd never touched his scars before and she didn't know how he would feel about it.

Only a few seconds later, Azriel brushed his fingers against hers and took hold of her hand. He didn't even think about it.

She stopped still and let out a gasp at the touch of his scars and he froze. He ripped his hand away from hers and began to apologise profusely.

"I-I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. I know, the scars are-" He was cut of by her grabbing his hand gently.

"Beautiful," She mumbled, holding eye contact with him as she brought her lips to one of the nastier scars on the back of his hand, "they're beautiful."

And that's when he felt it. It felt like everything was right and clear. Like before he was seeing the world through frosted glass and now there was no lense.

The word clanged through him, just as it did her.

Mate.

"Everyone has scars Az," she looked back at her wings for a moment then turned back to him, beaming, "they're a symbol of strength. They're beautiful." She repeated.

"Y/n..." He mumbled.

'What if she didn't feel that?' He worried.

"I know Az. I don't know about you, but-"

"I couldn't be happier!" He stopped her talking and pressed his lips to hers gently.

The kiss was sweet and loving and happy. It was accepting. Azriel was quite happy just to stay like that for the rest of the night, but all good things come to an end.

Just as they pulled away, Cassian's obnoxious voice echoed down the street. No doubt about it, he was drunk.

"Y/n! Help me!" He yelled even when he was right in front of the two.

"You are drunk." Az observed and Y/n giggled.

"Thankyou Spymaster Obvious! C'mon Mister let's get you home." Y/n teased her mate and dropped his hand.

"Take me home? At least by me dinner first, love." Cassian teased and pressed a sloppy, drunk kiss to her cheek.

Mistake.

Azirel didn't even try to stop the growl that ripped from his throat. That was his mate.

His mate.

"What's eating him?" Cassian asked and Y/n took a step closer to Az.

"Calm down Azzy. Help me with Cassian, and just ignore him." She leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

When she returned to her own height, Azriel found himself leaning down, chasing her lips.

She put a hand on his mouth and giggled at his pout.

"Let's all get home Azriel. Then... I think I'll make us some dinner."

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

Between Worlds Part IV

A/n: Sorry for the short chapter! I'm going to be really busy this week with work so I won't have another update til next week probably. Next week's update with be part two of "A City of Dreams" and part five for between worlds. Thank you everyone for the love on the last one. Hope you guys enjoy a bit of Azriel's pov. :))

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? None!

Work Count: 1.2k

‎‧₊˚✧ Reader POV ✧˚₊‧

Azriel left nothing but his scent of night-chilled mist and cedar lingering in the air. After he departed, you made your way into the estate, feeling somewhat dazed as you traversed up the steps and through the doorway. give Thoughts of your recent conversation swirled in your mind. How could Azriel be so considerate? He seemed to accept the bargain without too much hesitation, despite gaining nothing from it. Azriel’s unexpected acceptance left you feeling uneasy. Did he have a plan, or was he simply indulging on a whim? It was hard to tell with someone as enigmatic as Azriel. After all, to the fae, three months might feel like a mere blink of an eye. 

As soon as you stepped into the hall of the estate, your maid who seemed to be in a frantic mood quickly intercepted you as she caught your eye, her expression tense as she guided you to your bedroom. “Where have you been?” she chided softly, her grip on her apron betraying her nerves. “You’ve never done anything like this before, in all twenty-six years of your life. If your parents found out…why they would never let you leave again.” 

“I’m sorry…I stayed the night with Hazel,” The lie seemed to slip out, almost like muscle memory. A few thoughts occurred to you.

But what if you told her the truth? Would she be excited? How long has she been your maid? What even if her name? 

A small huff pulled you away from lingering thoughts. 

“You smell like a drunken fool, you look like one too. Bath, now” Your maid instructed, her tone firm as she closed the bedroom door behind us. 

“Thank you for covering for me” your voice barely above a whisper, as you made your way to the bathroom attached to your bedroom quarters. The words felt hollow on your tongue, weighed down by the guilt of deceiving everyone around you. Yet, somehow beneath the surface, a sliver of relief flickered, knowing that you had someone you could trust somewhat. 

Before you began to strip off the dress, you looked over at your maid who was searching your closet for a dress. You simply stated. 

“Could you find me a journal? One with a lock or a ward?” Your maid gave you a quizzical look and shrugged with a nod. A wave of her hand ushered you to quickly bathe as there was much to do today. 

‎‧₊˚✧ Azriel POV ✧˚₊‧

I winnowed back to the outskirts of the House of Wind, the rush of air exhilarating as I took flight. My wings unfurled to their full span, casting long shadows across the ground as I landed softly in front of the house. As I made my way to my room, a deep sigh escaped my lips, the weight of recent events pressing down on me. 

My mate

The realization still felt surreal, after all these years of waiting. Yet, despite my excitement, doubts nagged at the edges of my mind. Was she afraid? Last night, she seemed drawn to me, but today, only fear and concern marred her features.

What was she hiding? 

I understand my reputation proceeds me, as I’ve done horrible things. I’ve killed, tortured, and manipulated in more ways than I could count. I know I’m undeserving of a mate, one that seemed so perfect. Yet, somehow, I feel as if she already knows of the horrible things that I’ve done. The way her fingers would brush across my scarred hands as if they weren’t… horrible as if they hadn’t caused pain and hurt to the world. 

The shadows… I never expected them to be so soft

You seemed to see his shadows as a part of him, something to be cherished and praised. While others thought of them as something to be feared, something people shunned besides his family. Yet, how often did you think about his shadows, especially since you both have never met before? 

The chances of you two meeting were slim, it could have happened in passing. Your father is one of the government officials for Velaris. A kind man, though he had only spoken to him maybe once or twice. Though, I could never forget her if we had met, the way her eyes seemed to gleam up at me like stars. Eyes that made him feel safe as if he could drown in them from the warmness they beheld. 

For once, he felt like he could let his guard down, and it was a surreal feeling, one he was hesitant to admit. Perhaps, that’s why he trusts her so much that he made a bargain that didn’t benefit him in the slightest. 

Why were you so intoxicating? Occupying his mind like a drug? We had only just met, yet I crave you. 

The urge to send a few of his shadows your way to at least know that you’re safe. You seemed so trusting and naive, what if someone used that against you? Though he knew the terms of the bargain as he rubbed the small marking on his wrist. Didn’t mean he liked the terms. 

Azirel also knew he didn’t have to wait three months to see you, but you looked desperate for something. As if you lacked time, you’re fae? Privileged fae…you had all the time in the world. Therefore, what was causing that pretty little mind of yours to hesitate to be his mate? What did you need to complete before you both could be mated together? 

A distraction is what he needed. 

A curse was under his breath as he knew he was behind on reports that he needed to complete before the Starfall event with his family. He couldn’t let himself go crazy thinking of y/n and what she was doing. Perhaps, he would send flowers, maybe even a little shadow, one that he would command not to report to him but just so she knew he was still here…that if she needed him, he was a whisper away. 

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he ran his fingers through his raven black hair grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a note. An awful idea really, but how harmful would it be? 

My Dearest Y/n,

How you have ensnared me in your spell, I cannot fathom. Your very presence is a symphony of enchantment, weaving its melody through the fibers of my soul. For you, my mate, I offer these flowers to brighten your hangover, accompanied by one of my shadows. Fear not for I have commanded them to honor our bargain, refraining from any prying or divulging of secrets. Should you ever need me, simply whisper to the shadow and I will come to you at a moment’s notice. 

In truth, I am not one to resort to poetry or love letters, but for you, I would humble myself before the Mother. 

With all my affection, 

Azriel, your mate 

With a flick of his wrist, a silent command, the shadow obediently trailed off, carrying the letter. Azriel had commanded it to bring flowers from Elain’s garden as well. As he watched the shadow disappear, a deep sigh along with a curse escaped his lips. Despite the tasks awaiting him, his mind remained preoccupied with thoughts of you.

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe, @why4anne, @impossibelle, @lilah-asteria

Marriage-Life (One-shot)

A/n: Thank you all for all the love on the Between Worlds series! I promise an update next week. This is just something I thought about while on my walk with my dog :) SUPER FLUFFY!

**Also, it is unedited so fair warning, like a rough draft!**

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Collections of domestic life with Azriel, married/mated for fifty years. 

Warnings: Fluff & crack at times, drinking, some intimate moments. Pet names (Sweetness, My Love, Baby)

Azriel the spymaster was your mate, the most handsome man you’ve ever laid eyes on. Balancing life with a spymaster was no easy feat. Azriel’s frequent absence on risky missions tested the boundaries of your marriage at times. Yet, amidst the challenges, you found solace in the ways he made up for his prolonged departures.

Like sleepless nights in bed after a long mission…

As you settled in settled into bed, with Azriel lying on your chest, his breathing growing heavy as his eyes were closing. A question tugged at your lips. “Would you…’ you began, hesitating for a moment. ‘Yes, I would love you if you were a worm,’ Azriel hummed, his warm breath grazing your skin.

“Love me if I was a snail” You finished, feeling Azriel’s smirk form against your chest. He gave a soft nip on your breast. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he opened his eyes to look up at you. The hazel eyes looked up at you with amusement you could see his smirk turn smug. 

“Oh sweetness, that changes things” he drawled as he sat up a little, pushing himself up to see your face. You bit your lip trying not to giggle as he continued. 

“I mean, are you a normal snail? Like could I tell you apart from all of the other little snails?” Azriel began, his deep voice filled with a teasing tone. His hand roaming your bonds, fingers caressing your curves. 

You stifle a laugh as his fingers find ticklish spots, “I would be a cute snail, one that you could distinguish from the others”

“A very cute snail…but the fact remains. You would still be a snail” Azriel hummed as he ran his fingers across your curves again. His gaze goes down to your body and back to your lips and then your eyes with a playful grin. A grin that only you ever saw. “I would feel so guilty if I stepped on you by mistake. Can’t have that, can we?” 

Giving him a playful pout, you look at him innocently. “Are you saying…that you wouldn’t love me if I was a snail?” you whisper to him in a soft gaze, as you notice his movements. Azriel grinned again, pushing himself onto his elbows against you as he moved closer to you. His wings continued to drape across the both of you. 

“What I’m saying is I would always have to worry about stepping on you if you were a snail. Which would make being married to you quite the headache.” His hand once rested on the curve of your waist, moved its way to your collarbone then your jawline, and finally to your chin. Tilting your head as he brings himself closer to whisper on your lips. “How about you stay fae my love, maybe in another universe we could be snails together. But this one, I would love to be fae with you.” A gentle kiss was planted on your lips, which led to you both having a very sleepless night. 

****

Azriel never really had much of a sweet tooth, in fact, he typically stayed away from sweets until he met you. When you both got married, you would try out a new cafe once a month, sometimes going to the same one if their seasonal menu changed. 

“Let’s get ice cream today, it’s starting to get so warm out.” You whined as you slipped on a sundress. Azriel in the middle of brushing his teeth as he shrugged and gave the confirming nod. 

One of the best things about Azriel was that he always tried to match your outfits. If you wore a blue ribbon in your hair, he would wear a blue button-up shirt. If you wore a floral sundress, he would find a shirt that matched one of the colors. Today wearing a blue floral sundress, he opted for a light blue button-down and khaki slacks. One of which, he never owned any colorful clothing or anything other than his leathers and a few formal outfits until you two met.

Once you were both ready, Azriel took you on a flight down to the Palace of Hoof and Leaf. A district is known for its food. Once landed, you both walked hand in hand. Shadows trailing the both of you as you walked. Azriel’s huge hand compared to yours as he guided you to a cafe. 

“Feyre mentioned this place the other day” he began as he guided you through the busy streets. His wings were tightly tucked in. “I guess they make the ice cream look cute, like little bears and pigs” he gave you a warm smile as you trailed next to him, giving him a confirming squeeze with your hand. 

The streets were packed today, the market was selling spices, the smell of delicious food filled the air, and merchants trying to gather attention as people walked past. It wasn't until after a few blocks away, that you noticed a cute pastel pink building that had “Ice Cream” written in a beautiful cursive font on the window. You moved your hand from his, moving it towards his bicep as you both walked to the front doors. When you grasped his muscle, he flexed. The pastel-pink building exuded a quaint charm, its exterior adorned with delicate floral motifs that seemed to dance in the sunlight. Inside, the decor was equally inviting, with plush cushions and paintings on flowers on the walls. Along with cute stuffed animals on shelves around the parlor. A beautiful fae girl led you both to a table and placed a menu in front of you both. Azreil looked at you. “Order anything you want. I will just share with you”

The menu was filled with a tempting array of ice cream parfaits, each more enticing than the last. Ranging from little animal-themed ones to flower ones  You ended up ordering the panda, and right when you ordered you noticed there was a drink menu that showed an adorable foam cat latte. You order it as well obviously. Azriel smirks as he looks at you with a smile. People in the ice cream parlor glanced over. A smile from the threatening looks of the spymaster was quite rare. 

You both talked about what other errands you both needed to run, a market trip was due. Luckily Azriel won’t have a mission for a while but will be training with the Valkyrie and having to go to Hewn City soon. As you both talked, you very impatiently waited for the dessert, Azriel held your hand across the table. He was rubbing his finger across the top of your hand. 

“I appreciate you” He whispered so softly that you almost didn’t catch it. You give him a warm smile “I appreciate you too and everything you do.”

After what seemed like forever! 

The ice cream and latte finally arrived, you looked at the ice cream with a pout and looked at him. 

“I don’t think I can eat it, it’s too cute” you pout as you look down at the panda ice cream staring up at you. Azriel had already taken the latte and was about to sip it. As he raised a brow.

“Shall I eat it for you” he teased, flashing a playful grin as he took a sip of the cute cat latte. Something about this intimidating creature sipping a cute cat latte caused your heart to flutter. A blush made its way across your face, even after fifty years of marriage, he still makes you have butterflies in your tummy. You reluctantly used your tiny spoon that was given to you, to poke the face of the little panda ice cream ball on top. Tasting the ice cream, it was a cookies and cream flavor. So cute and so delicious. Azriel teased you by claiming you’re murdering him. You would flash him a playful glare which would cause him to laugh. It was moments like these, that you enjoyed being married to him. 

*** 

Drunken nights, meant drunken mates. 

Azriel arrived at Rita’s to find his mate giggling drunk next to Feyre who was being led away by Rhysand. Azriel’s mate however was still sipping on her drink as he walked over. 

“Sorry, I have a mate,” you slurred, raising a hand to Azriel’s face as he approached.

“Oh, do you? Is he handsome?” He teased in a low voice, taking a seat next to you. His wing brushing against your shoulder. 

“The most handsome man in the whole world, let me tell you if he caught you right now, you would be catching his hands” You drawled with a drunken grin as you sipped the rest of your cocktail. 

Azriel covered his mouth covering a laugh, “Is that so? So he’s like super powerful.” He teased, his tone holding amusement. One of his shadows trailing around your arm. 

You notice it and giggle, “Yeah, my mate has these little shadow things too” You point at the shadow and show it to him. He laughs a bit harder and leans closer to you. You almost immediately recognize him. 

“Hello! My mate!” You giggle as you lean your head on his shoulder. His arm slipped around your waist. “When did you get here, there was such a strange man here” you giggle as he holds you close, placing his chin on top of your head. 

“Just now, how about we head home? Hm?” He hums as he plays with a strand of your hair, leaning back a little to slide a hand under your chin to tilt your face to his to see your drunken smile with a red flush on your cheeks. 

“Can we walk a little?” You smile up at him as you slur a little.

“Can you even walk?” He teases in a low tone, “If you can then sure” 

He pays the tab and walks with you out. A hand firmly on your waist to stop you from stumbling when you both walk the streets of Velaris. If anyone even looks at you stumble they’re met with the glare of the spymaster. You notice a pigeon leaving his arms and make your toward it. 

Tears stream down your face. 

Oh fuc- Azriel almost thought you were about to throw up but here you are giving the pigeons coins while crying. 

“Baby please, he’s homeless” You give Azriel a longing look as big alligator tears stream down your face. 

“The pigeon?” Azreil covers his mouth from laughing, there’s no way his mate is crying about a bird on the street. This is one of her more normal moments. 

“Yes, and he’s so poor. I mean he had no pockets!” you slurred as your voice cracked feeling so bad for the poor pigeon.

“I’m sure he’s fine love, please leave the pigeon alone,” he says quietly as he pulls you up. Perhaps, winnowing home would be for the best. 

Potions & Shadows (Part II)

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

A/n: This part is more background heavy to build up the plot a bit. Hybern in the books doesn't have a lot to build off of so I'm going to try to make him a greater villain tbh. At least make him a bit more feared. Thank you all for 100 follows btw!

Word Count: 3k

Part One, part two, part three. part four

Warmings: Mini trauma dump on Azriel, mentions of death.

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

I shouldn’t enjoy doing this. what the hell is wrong with me

Is what Azriel had thought as he stared at the documents laid out before him in the middle of the night. Rhysand assigned him to look into you the moment you arrived in the night court. Of course, Rhysand trusted his mate that you were a good person. But one could not be too eager about letting someone foreign into the court. Also, it wasn’t like Azriel wasn’t curious about you. In fact, you were currently his muse. As you were easy to find information about, and perhaps in the future would inform you not to leave such an easy paper trail.

The sound of ruffling papers filled the room as he scanned the documents. 

By all means, you were an outstanding citizen. You were top of your class at a prestigious mage academy on a sponsorship a hundred years ago. You kept your mage certification current and renewed it before it expired. Initially, Azriel had thought that your adventurer guild meant you would be a mercenary, however, he was wrong. As he sifted through the quests you took on, he saw that they were for small rewards- helping farmers, rebuilding villages. You paid your taxes on time and your home in Feyre’s village is fully paid for. Mother above, there was no hidden information about you except for an eighty-year period where he couldn’t find a single piece of evidence that you existed anywhere, aside from word of mouth that a young elf lived alone in the woods.

A deep sigh escaped his lips as he rubbed his face. You were too sweet—not even a small fine for failing to pay a toll. There was nothing bad about you, yet here he was, investigating your whole life, feeling like it was more for his own sake than for Rhysand's. A report sat in his hands that he had written about you for Rhysand, perhaps Rhysand would offer you a position in the inner circle. It wasn’t like a court mage would be bad, in fact, mages in Prythian were rare.  A knock pulled him out of his thoughts. He opened the door to reveal Elain standing in the doorway.

“Elain, you should be asleep, it’s the middle of the night,” Azriel spoke lowly as he shifted to lean against the doorway, one of his wings blocking her view of the room behind him. It was a subtle gesture that would go unnoticed by her, as she spoke softly. 

“I couldn’t sleep and I saw your light, so I figured I would come to check on you, you seemed distracted at dinner tonight,” Elain looked nervous as she looked up at Azriel whose eyes softened. Perhaps he was getting a soft spot for mortals. Yet, neither of you was truly mortal. You smelled like one, with a faint scent of blossoms, you seemed fragile like one but your eyes spoke of an immortality of knowledge. Had he been staring for too long into the distance because Elain’s soft voice pulled him away again, “Azriel? I asked if you wanted to walk with me to the gardens?” Azriel brought himself to look at the once mortal in front of him. There was no doubt she was beautiful, becoming fae just heightened those features and the way she looked at him, spoke something. Yet, when he looked at her, he had wished it were you asking him to escort you to the gardens or whatever hell you tasked him to do. 

What in the hells have you done to him, he had just met you yet he felt like something was pulling him to you. 

“I cannot tonight,” Azriel offered a small smile, one that caused Elain to stiffen as she looked away, a gesture that did not go unnoticed, “When I return from the camps tomorrow, I will join you though” he answered softly as she nodded and offered a goodnight before she went back to her quarters. Azriel gently closed the door, his shadows caressing his frame and mentions of sleep in their whispers. Azriel rubbed his eyes before finishing the report and heading to a short slumber. 

**** 

In the morning when Azriel walked out of his quarters strapped in his Illyrian leathers, Cassian was waiting down the hallway, leaning against the wall.

“You hate the camps, is this healer cute or something” Cassian flashed a grin, but his expression changed when he noticed Azriel flash him an annoyed look, “Given her race, I don’t want her to have trouble at the camps. If those potions break, we will be behind schedule for the war. It has nothing to do with how ‘cute’ she is” Azriel mentioned with a smile tugging his lips as he gave Cassian a gentle nudge with his wing as he made his way past to head out for the day. 

Cassian nodded a small smile still on his face, though Azirel sensed that his brother wasn’t waiting for him this morning. Cassian’s eyes flicked towards the eldest Archeron sister’s room, perhaps Cassian was waiting for a meeting with a viper. 

****

Meanwhile, at the healer’s cottage, you were carefully packing potions and elixirs into crates. With your staff in hand, you guided various bottles to float gently into three crates, the soft clinks of glass filling the room. As you worked, Madja entered.

“One of the members of the court is going to escort you. These Illyrians can be… unwelcoming to folk like yourself. Better safe than sorry kid,” she said, her tone awkward. She avoided meeting your gaze, but you understood her concern. You knew you were different and that the Fae in these parts might not be kind to you. Offering Madja a soft smile and a nod, you continued your preparations.

Once the crates were filled and securely clasped shut, you used your magic to float them into the main room of the cottage. Madja followed quietly as the front door opened, revealing Azriel and his shadows. His wings were tucked in tightly as he entered, his gaze immediately locking onto you and your staff. Your watercolor eyes met his golden ones that hid behind his dark curls that fell just above his eyes as you gently set the crates down and desummoned your staff.

Azriel felt his heart tug when he saw you. His shadows seemed intrigued, attempting to pull away from his grasp and head towards you. Azriel just held onto them tighter, not letting them dare touch you. 

So pretty, pretty little mage, the shadows whispered to him. They spoke of your mixed heritage, and your connection with nature, and reminded him of your humanity. So fragile their whispers ceased when he waved them off. As he looked at you, he did not have a clue what you were thinking as you gazed at the talons on top of his wings. 

“You probably might want to winnow, I fear flying will be a bit difficult. Even with your mage magic y/n,” Madja said, nodding your way. However Azriel was not paying attention as once he finally heard your name, it sung like a prayer in his mind. Finally a name for that pretty face. Azriel picked up the three crates with ease.

“Can you winnow?” He asked, Azriel was unfamiliar with mages as they were quite rare in Prythian, their magic was different than the fae, as mages were limited to spells. You shook your head in response. Azriel simply balanced the three crates in one hand, as he extended his other hand to you. 

“I can winnow us to a point, but it will be a mile or two of walking. Can you handle that?” Azriel stated softly. You seemed so fragile as you placed your small hand into his large one. He had been around full-blood humans in the past and knew how fragile they were. Elves weren’t much different besides their mana making them only somewhat stronger than humans. Azriel wondered where you may lay between the two. 

“I’ll be okay, I’m used to traveling,” offering him a reassuring smile. Within seconds, shadows swirled around you both as you winnowed to the middle of the woods a few miles outside the Illyrian camp. 

You stood a couple feet smaller than him, his shadows whispered, So petite, so fragile. With a wave of your hand, you summoned your staff, a crescent moon on top of with a glittering blue stone hanging from the crest. The magic lifted the crates from his arms as you both walked. A smile tugged Azriel’s lips as he clasped his hands behind his back slowing his pace to match your stride.

Time to fill in the gaps of his knowledge about you. He struck up a conversation, an interrogation of sorts, “How did you become a mage?” Azriel spoke softly, his voice a melody to your ears as you sheepishly glanced back at him. You feared that if you looked at him for too long, you would fall for this deadly presence, for whatever reason every instinct in your body feared him yet a part of you wanted to be closer. A new emotion seemed to fill you with every glance you sent his way. 

You released a sigh as your gaze shifted to the large pine trees that grew along the dirt path, “When I was young, I was saved by a human mage,” Human mages were something that had only occurred in the continent. The continent had a more progressive approach by human and fae standards, allowing humans to practice magic if they had the mana for it. Meanwhile, the human villages in Prythian still feared the presence of magic. 

“Saved?” Azriel echoed as he glanced at you. He knew most of the Elven villages were burned by Hybern centuries ago, by the thousands, Hybern had sought to eradicate most of the elves because of their high amounts of mana, a possible threat to fae kind. Whoever wasn’t killed, he had them as slaves wearing collars that stripped them of their mana. 

“Hybern’s generals still wreak havoc in the continent,” you murmured with your gaze still on the path, “My entire village was slaughtered one night when one of his generals arrived, many of the people in my village were half-breeds like myself, my mentor, the human mage found me that night after the war party had left,” 

Azriel looked at your face, expecting to see a sad expression. Instead, he found a look that was unreadable, devoid of emotion. Not even your eyes revealed your thoughts. 

“I never got your name,” You spoke as your gaze shifted to meet his lingering one, “or what you do for the court.” Azriel looked ahead to the path. They were nearing the camp soon enough. 

“It’s Azriel. My position, however, is a secret,” he said quietly, bringing a finger to his lips. “You can just assume that I do a lot of paperwork. A boring position, really.”

A lie, you thought as you looked into his eyes. From your time as an adventurer, you had learned to read people. One thing you learned was to look into a person’s eyes to discern who they truly were. Azriel’s eyes revealed much more; they showed that he had done many unsavory acts, perhaps with killing being the least brutal. His golden eyes, like a pot of honey, hid a sinister predator behind their warm facade.

One of his shadows moved to twirl around your wrist at his command. You jumped a little at the cool, silk-like touch of the shadow. “We are nearing the camp. I will take the crates to the camp leader. You will stay here by this tree,” Azriel commanded. He was not asking you to stay; he was telling you to. The shadow seemed to serve as either a way for him to track your location or to signal that you were his companion in case any other Illyrians came near. You made a mental note that Illyrians seemed to be territorial or overprotective.

You desummoned your staff as Azriel grabbed the crates and carried them the rest of the way to camp. Sitting down next to a tree, you waited for him. Around half an hour later, you felt a brush of wind against you as Azriel landed. His wings outstretched before tucking in behind him, instilling a sense of awe within you.

“You don’t have fae senses, do you?” he asked quietly. You shook your head as he helped you up from the ground. If you did, you would have sensed him the moment he was within a few feet of you. “Can you detect scents either?” he asked. Another shake of your head. You mentioned that you could detect mana, but only if it was from another mage or a magical creature. Azriel made a note of that, perhaps feeling thankful for your lack of senses. This way, you couldn’t sense how his heart pounded every time you met his gaze.

“Would you like a tour of Velaris?” he asked, “I promise I won’t drop you in flight,” he added with a hint of amusement. You looked at him and then at his wings as he stretched them slightly. A fear still instilled within you.

“I should help Madja with preparations…” you whispered. Azriel listened to your soft voice, noting the fear behind your words. He smiled—a genuine smile that he reserved only for his family. A smile that heightened his beautiful features, causing you to look away. “I promise I will go slow. It won’t be so bad, I assure you,” Azriel said, hearing your heart pounding. You were nervous. Were you scared to be near him?

“Another time,” you responded finally, grabbing his hand without a thought. “For now, can you winnow me back to the healer’s cottage?”

“Of course,” he said. With that, he led you back to the cottage, shadows swirling around you both as you disappeared from the forest and reappeared at the healer’s door. You waved him goodbye as he bowed slightly at the waist, causing a warmth to form on your cheeks when you saw his dark curls fall above his eyes that seemed to pierce you.

“Until next time, y/n,” Azriel spoke softly before he took off into the skies, his wings outstretched as if they were big enough to block the afternoon sun, powerful enough to rustle the trees. Such a powerful creature, you thought as you entered the cottage.

*****

Azriel took off to Rhysand’s office to drop off the report on the new healer. As he arrived, he found Rhysand at his desk, poring over piles of paperwork in preparation for the upcoming High Lords' meeting. Azriel observed the signs of stress on Rhysand—his disheveled hair, evidence of having run his fingers through it one too many times, and the dark circles under his violet eyes.

Rhysand glanced up as Azriel entered the room. “How was the camp?” he mused with a hint of amusement. “And the healer?”

Azriel smirked as he took a seat across from Rhysand, crossing one leg over the other and letting his wings drape behind him. “Camp was decent. Devlon scented her on the bottles and was asking if the humans were slaves again,” Azriel said, rolling his eyes. The healer's intoxicating scent still lingered on him, not that he minded. Rhysand muttered "Illyrian bastards" under his breath as he signed another document.

Azriel continued, “As for the healer, I have my report done. She’s a bit more closed off in person but leaves a paper trail. Overall, a good citizen. Only eighty years after her mage exam is left without any trail of her existence.” Azriel glanced at the document Rhysand was reading—something about budgets. “I have a feeling that was around the time her mentor passed away. Her mentor was human, after all.”

“From the continent then? Do you feel like she’s strong? From what Madja has praised, she’s a damn good healer,” Rhysand said, looking up.

Azriel nodded before continuing, “A first-class mage, one of the six that still remain. I can’t sense any magic or mana on her. I have a feeling she is suppressing it at all times—a skill even most fae can’t master.” Azriel smirked slightly. A damn good mage indeed.

“Your call then, Az,” Rhysand replied. “Is she a threat? Feyre wants her to come to dinner. Perhaps it would make her sisters feel more at ease with someone familiar around. Preferably Nesta,” Rhysand grimaced slightly with his last comment. 

Azriel looked at his scarred hand that once held your soft, dainty one. “Not a threat at all,” he murmured.

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.

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.

Ride it (Drabble)

Summary: Riding Azriel, like the filthy degenerate you are 😎

Warnings: Pure FILTH, no plot just smut, overstimulation, MEAN!Azriel, light bondage/shadow play, degradation, praise (if you squint), crying, if I miss any lemme know.

WC: Idk maybe like 1k, very short.

Also unedited because I am embarrassed that I even wrote this.

A/n: Thank you all for the love on the Eris fic, also this is unedited because I was lowkey embarrassed that I wrote this. ANYWAYS have fun :)

*** Minors Do not interact under the cut ***

Oh, how you ended up in this situation. The utter regret you felt last night for even drinking so much, that this morning, Azriel, your typically wonderful mate had you riding him like your life depended on it.

As the cocky bastard leaned back against the headboard with a bored expression on his face. This has been going on for the past hour since the two of you woke up. Your hands are tied behind your back using his shadows. A few of his shadows were constantly flicking and nipping at your perky nipples. His thumb lazily flicked your clit with his piercing gaze never leaving yours as you sat on his lap, his cock nestled within you as you tried your best to rock your hips. Your legs were sore from keeping them wide for so long as you used them to bounce on his fat cock. One of Azriel's scarred hands caressed your torso and then nestled onto your hips, pressing his cock deeper inside you as he lowered them.

"Got to take it all f'me baby," in a lazy tone. Earning another mewl from your lips as it pressed deeper inside your core. The sweat formed on your face as you whimpered, rocking your hips in rhythm with his. The way you would beg, please, please-I can't anymore.

Azriel would bite his lip from groaning, the way his cock would press into your gummy walls. The fucked out look you had on your face as he would gently rock your tired hips for you. Your gaze was now blurry from how much you've come the past hour or perhaps from all the tears covering your eyes.

Azriel was the type of male who loved to push you to a breaking point, loved to go past your limit till you were in tears. Of course, you both had a safe word, but you both knew you enjoyed him torturing you like this. Torture was one of his jobs after all.

"Is that all you can fit, baby? Oh you love how mean I am to you, don't you? That's so sick baby" He chuckled darkly, loving how your body would tremble as he would angle his hips so that when you bounced on his cock it would hit that sweet spot. Every. Single. Time. The way you panted and whimpered from the relentless abuse on your pussy.

"S' big, I can't fit it all love" Of course you could. He just made you by pressing your hips down earning a loud gasp with an O on your lips as he bottomed out. Creaming on his cock, Azriel bit his lip, his nails digging into your soft hips leaving crescent markings.

"Already fucked you dumb, slut? Can't even look at me in the eyes?" He mocked you with a grin, his voice rough and deep. When you would stop moving, Azriel's hips would move, keeping a rhythm, each move strong and calculated. Each time his cock bullied your sweet spot, you would mewl and cry out his name.

"Ah-too deep-Azzy" Moans relentlessly escaping your mouth, like you were confessing to every sin. How his shadows would slither around your body, reaching your clit and mercilessly playing with it until you would cry out. Creating yet another creamy mess.

"You're so tight," As Azriel groaned with a taunting grin on his face. He stopped moving his hips and using his hand held your chin firmly so you had to look at him. In your haze, you could see a smirk on his lips, his tone full of dark amusement. "Now, I want you to ride me like your life depends on that. Got it?"

Moving his hand from your chin to your hair as he tugged to expose your neck. Licking a wet stripe down it. You moved your hips in rhythm, the wet mess below you sticking to your thighs. His moans as you would take every inch of him inside you. Your legs quivering like his cock inside your pussy. His dark brows would furrow together as he held back from moving in rhythm with you.

"Cum for f'm-" He managed to groan out huskily as you moved your hips faster. Your gaze is set on the ceiling. "Oh fuck....Azriel...I'm going to...ah, oh gods" You were desperately trying to hold it all together, how could you not be a mess with your mate bullying your poor cunt like this? His load filled deep within you, the hot sticky ropes filling your cunt to the brim where he could see the white circle at the base of his cock.

"A reward, for my little whore, you don't mind me fucking that cum deeper in you, do you?" Azriel panted as you could feel him hardening yet again inside you as you fell onto his chest. "Don't worry baby, I'll do all the work this time."

Forged in Fire: A New World pt2

A/n: this can be read by itself but here is the link to part one in case you would like more context. It is loosely inspired by 'I stole the male lead's first night' I wrote this because I could not for the life of me sleep, so if there's errors then I apologize, also my requests are open!

Summary: You wake up in a strange place :) Azriel x Reader

Warnings: Mostly crack, Angry!Azriel, lots of cursing

WC: 3.1k

Taglist: @kksbookstuff

*****

You had failed to realize some rather... critical things that had led up to this moment.

For one, you couldn’t read the Prythian language, though you could speak it. Then there was your complete lack of understanding regarding the social caste system and etiquette. And, of course, visiting that suspicious fortune teller at the Renaissance fair three weeks ago—an absolute steal at five dollars—had somehow landed you in this otherworldly situation.

It was your third day in the Night Court. You sat by the garden, surrounded by beautiful flowers and basking in the sunshine. But the serene setting did nothing to calm the storm of your thoughts, especially with the absolutely terrifying shadowsinger sitting next to you. You tried not to lust over him, but Azriel was a sight to behold. The book did not do him justice, nor did the fanart. In person, this male was an absolute lethal god—lean muscles, absolute slut hips, and an ass that could stop traffic. You tried not to drool as you sipped your tea at the table, attempting to focus on the floral beauty around you. Azriel was reading reports, occasionally sending glares your way.

You knew he hated the Vanserras, and he probably didn’t enjoy this babysitting duty when he could be spending time with Elain or doing spy things. Until he finally spoke.

“What the actual fuck, Y/n?” His cold tone sent a shiver down your spine. You gulped the sip of tea you’d just taken, staring into his golden eyes that seemed like shards of ice. What did you do?

You just stared at him. How could you respond to that? How could you respond to the cold, golden gaze he was sending your way, or the way he kept playing with the ring on his... wedding finger?

Fae don’t do human weddings.

“Wait, you’re married?” you stuttered out, looking at him with wide eyes. He scoffed, smirking at your shock.

“Yeah, to you. We got married right before the war, in a private ceremony. We’re mates, for fuck’s sake.” Azriel was furious. He stood up, his wings flaring out in anger. His shadows twirled around your wrists, locking you onto the chair as he moved closer to you.

“How utterly convenient you lost your memory, you have a heart condition that you never told me about, and I don’t know the fact that you visited a witch right before our ceremony?” His tone was dangerously low, like the calm before a storm. He wasn’t yelling—no, that would draw attention. His words were like shards of ice, cutting through the air with a menacing chill.

“How come you didn’t say anything? I mean, I arrived like three days ago,” you said, trying to sound casual. Maybe you could play this off. Everyone here thinks you have amnesia, that you are definitely not from another world and have entered the world of a popular fae smut series. You got this.

Okay, maybe you don’t got this, as Azriel moved closer to you, tilting your chin up to look at him as he gazed down at you. You were honestly surprised you hadn’t pissed yourself yet. They don’t call him the spymaster for no reason. “What was I supposed to say?” he started, voice dripping with sarcasm. “I haven’t told my family that I was mated to a maid for the Vanserra family, who now turns out to be their sister.” Whoever’s body you had just taken over, can have their body back and deal with this mess.

You pleaded to yourself mentally as he continued. “You’re just so full of surprises. Honestly, it’s really my fault, to begin with,” Azriel said with a bitter laugh. “I mean, I should have investigated my mate, but I figured, no, my mate wouldn’t lie to me and then after the war not talk to me for three weeks because she nearly died at Autumn’s camp, which I didn’t even know you were there.” Oh, he was mad. Heated. The absolute rambling this male was doing—fuck, you should pay for his therapy for all of this.

“I’m sorry that I don’t remember you,” you began, feeling a strange tug in your heart—was that the mating bond? Perhaps mentioning it would make the lethal predator before you less mad. “I still feel the bond, though,” you whispered, pulling Azriel from his heated rage fit.

Azriel’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place, a mixture of anger and pain. “I just wish... you would have told me all of these things, that you would have prepared me for all of this,” he began, waving his hands as if showcasing the whole mess. “Rhysand knows we’re mates. I told him when you arrived.” Azriel scoffed, his bitterness evident. “I was surprised when it was you, standing there looking so shy, the way you bowed your head towards us. A Vanserra would never do that. That was the first sign that I knew you actually had lost your memories. That you were different.”

The rambling seemed to continue.

Azriel ran a hand through his dark hair, frustration evident in every movement. “You think I haven’t been trying to figure this out? Trying to understand why my mate would forget me? Why she would hide things from me? This isn’t just about the past three days. This is about trust. About knowing that my mate, my partner, would keep secrets that could get her killed.”

“I never wanted to hide anything from you,” you said softly, feeling the weight of his words. “I don’t know why this happened, but I’m here now. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

Azriel’s expression softened slightly, the anger in his eyes dimming but not disappearing. “You have no idea how much I want to believe you,” he said, his voice low and filled with an emotion that made your heart ache. “But it’s going to take more than words. We’ll start with that witch, and we’ll go from there. But until then, no more secrets. No more lies. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” you replied, feeling the gravity of the situation settle heavily on your shoulders. You were in over your head, if you had to the chance to talk to whoever’s body you took over. You were going to scream and shout at them for this. 

Azriel’s wings folded back slightly, and he released your wrists from the shadows, though the wariness didn’t leave his eyes. “We need to talk to that witch, one of the spies said they found the location” 

You nodded as he took your hand in his, his wedding ring brushing against you. A reminder that you were not the one he fell in love with. Within moments shadows surrounded the two of you, as you appeared in front of a shop with a cauldron shaped sign and an old oak door. A sign that said ‘Come in: We can change your life! No Refunds!” hung on the door. 

Azriel gave you a look that said ‘Really? You went here of all places for magic’ he pushed open the door for you, you trailed behind. What was peculiar was that the lady looked exactly like the lady from the renaissance festival. 

The witch’s eyes flicked up as you entered, her lips curling into a knowing smile. “Ah, welcome back, dear,” she said, her voice smooth, like an eerie melody. “I see my spell worked.” 

Azriel gave you a confused look as you pulled him outside with you. “We will be right back,” you said to the witch before bringing Azriel outside. “Okay, you said no secrets, right?” The male simply nodded with a confused expression. You continued, your voice hesitant as you looked around to make sure nobody was walking the empty street. “I am not from this world. I am from a modern world where you and your family are a part of a hit faerie smut series.” You said it so bluntly that you didn’t notice the way his face looked. The look was unreadable.

“You’re saying that I am a book character?” he stated. You knew you sounded crazy and were praying that Azriel was not going to send you straight to the dungeons.

You nodded, feeling a sense of desperation. “Yes, and I don’t know how I got here. I visited a fortune teller at a Renaissance fair, and the next thing I knew, I was here, in this body, with no memories of this world.”

Azriel's expression shifted from confusion to something more guarded. “And you expect me to believe this? That my entire life, my family, everything I know is just... fiction in your world?”

“I know it sounds insane,” you pleaded, “but it's the truth. I’m not trying to deceive you. I just want to figure out how to fix this, how to make things right.”

He took a deep breath, his golden eyes searching your face for any sign of deceit. “If what you're saying is true, then this witch is our best chance at getting answers. But if you’re lying...”

“I’m not,” you interrupted. “I swear, Azriel. I want to find out what happened just as much as you do.”

He held your gaze for a long moment before nodding curtly. “Fine. Let’s see what she has to say.”

You both re-entered the shop, the witch’s eyes gleaming with interest. “Had to have a little chat, did you?” she asked, amusement in her tone.

“Yes,” Azriel said, his voice cold and authoritative. “And now we need answers. She claims she’s from another world, one where our lives are just stories. Can you confirm this?”

The witch’s smile widened. “Ah, yes. A classic case of cross-reality displacement. Rare, but not unheard of. The spell I cast was meant to fulfill her old self’s deepest desire, and it seems that desire was to escape her mundane life and find herself in a world of magic and adventure.”

“Old self?” you asked, your voice tinged with urgency.

The witch shrugged delicately. “The actual Vanserra. When I spoke to you, she had already set the spell in motion. It was only a matter of time for you both to flip-flop.” She said this in an amused tone, showcasing with her hands. “Your souls were swapped. Thankfully, you both existed in two different universes. At least you still look like yourself!” She laughed and muttered under her breath, “That’s not always the case.”

Azriel’s grip on your hand tightened, his expression darkening. “So you’re saying the Vanserra soul is now in another world?”

“Precisely, a human world to be exact,” the witch replied, still smiling. “Two souls, two worlds. It’s a perfect balance, really.”

You felt a wave of panic rising. “How do we reverse it?”

The witch’s eyes gleamed with a mix of pity and amusement. She moved to a back room behind a tacky purple curtain. “Now let’s check on the actual Vanserra using this doll.” She returned, holding up a rather awful sewing job of a cat with two buttons of separate sizes for eyes. “Ah, just as I thought, the Vanserra accepted the swap. You see, when she came in here, she would claim she was bored of this life. Bored of the mundane. She wanted a life of change, so I gave her your world. It’s more human, so of course, a shorter life span, but your world is rather peaceful.”

Azriel’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean she accepted the swap? And what does that mean for Y/n?”

The witch shrugged delicately. “It means that once one soul accepts the swap, the other must accept as well. The balance must be maintained. The Vanserra is content in your world, living a new life, free from the burdens she faced here. She has accepted her new reality.”

The witch handed you the poorly sewn cat doll. “You could always communicate with her via your dreams. Given the situation, she hasn't reached out, perhaps hoping you would accept this world. To do this, you must sleep with this cat.” She gave you a look that said, 'You want my help or not, kid?' You stayed silent as you accepted the creepy, poorly sewn cat doll.

Azriel eyed the doll skeptically, then asked, “So she can talk to her in this dream state, but if the other has accepted, what does that do?”

The witch shrugged. “Provides closure, knowing that you are stuck in this world. You said you wanted adventure, right, kid? Well, here it is.” She gestured grandly with her hands.

You began, your tone edged with annoyance. “I wanted adventure as in, I don’t know, changing my degree or winning the lottery. Not my soul being transported to another world.” You gestured to Azriel. “Let’s say I do accept this role. What do I have to do?”

The witch hummed thoughtfully. “You must do five cartwheels, a handstand while saying ‘I choose this life,’ and then your soul will be sealed, and both eyes on the cat will match.”

Azriel gave her a look of utter disbelief before turning to you. “Can you even do a cartwheel?”

You nodded confidently, flexing your non-existent muscles at him. “Absolutely. I’m practically a gymnast,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

The witch clapped her hands. “Wonderful! Now, if you’re ready, you can begin. The sooner you accept, the sooner you can start living your new life fully.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed but resigned. After the witch had swindled the two of you out of two hundred gold, he kept your hand in his as he winnowed you both to the Healer’s cottage.

“We’re going to bed and getting this whole thing situated,” he muttered under his breath, guiding you down the hallway to your bedroom.

“What do you mean ‘we’?” you began, but he interrupted, “I am going to sleep next to you to make sure that you are safe and sound.” The look he gave you was one of ‘Don’t test my patience.’

As you both lay in bed, you stared at the ceiling, trying your best to sleep but unable to quiet your mind. The song lyrics of Kendrick Lamar’s "Certified Lover Boy, Certified Pedophile" played on repeat in your head. Azriel, too, was wide awake, his presence a mixture of comfort and tension.

Slowly, sleep began to take you. You found yourself being led by a black cat into the dreamscape.

In the dreamscape, you met someone who could have been your twin, except she had the most perfect posture known to man, the exclusive Vanserra glare, and was wearing a ballgown.

“So, you’re the one who took my spot?” she said, looking you up and down. Surprisingly, you were wearing modern clothes in the dreamscape.

You nodded. She continued, “Your world is... perfect. I mean, I don’t have to worry about beasts or my abusive father. I have my own apartment, music that can play at my fingertips. Your world may not have magic, but it is... magical.” She sounded amazed by your everyday life, one that now seemed mundane to you, having always wished for fantasy and adventure.

“But you hurt your mate,” you stated angrily, remembering the pained look on Azriel’s face when he learned that the real Vanserra had accepted her life in a human world, that this world was not enough for her.

The Vanserra’s eyes softened with a hint of regret. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I was just so desperate to escape. My life here was a constant battle, a fight for survival. I didn’t realize how much pain I would cause him... or you.”

“You could have at least tried to work things out,” you countered, your voice trembling with emotion. “Azriel is suffering because of this. He loves you—loved you—and now he’s trying to figure out what to do with me, someone who’s not even from his world.”

She looked away, guilt evident in her expression. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think about the consequences. I was selfish. But I can’t go back now. I don’t want to go back. Your world is everything I dreamed of.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” you asked, feeling a mix of anger and helplessness. “I’m stuck here, in a world I don’t understand, with a mate who’s heartbroken and confused.”

The Vanserra met your gaze, a newfound determination in her eyes. “You have to make this life your own. Embrace it, as hard as it may be. Azriel deserves happiness, and if I can’t give it to him, then maybe you can.”

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the ritual. “I guess this is it,” you said, looking around the dreamscape one last time before focusing on the task at hand.

One cartwheel. You felt the shift in the air, the magic beginning to weave around you.

Two cartwheels. Your movements became more confident, your resolve strengthening.

Three cartwheels. The world around you seemed to blur, the dreamscape fading into the background.

Four cartwheels. The energy of the ritual thrummed through you, a pulsing beat that matched the rhythm of your heart.

Five cartwheels. As you landed, you transitioned into a handstand, your voice steady as you declared, “I choose this life.”

The Vanserra twin gave you a smile, a mixture of relief and encouragement in her eyes. “Good luck, Y/n,” she said softly, her form beginning to dissolve as the dreamscape faded completely.

When you woke up, you surprisingly had tears in your eyes. Azriel was already awake, gently stroking the hair out of your face. The poorly sewn cat doll was clutched in your hands, and its once mismatched eyes now both gleamed evenly.

“Are you okay?” Azriel asked, his voice soft and filled with concern. His touch was tender, a stark contrast to the intimidating persona he often projected.

You nodded, still processing the weight of what had happened. “I... I talked to her. The real Vanserra. She’s happy in my world. She’s not coming back.”

Azriel’s expression was a mix of emotions—relief, sadness, and something else you couldn’t quite place. “So, this is really happening,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. “You’re here to stay.”

You nodded again, feeling the truth of it settle deep within you. “Yes. I’ve accepted this life. I’m going to try and make it work. For both of us.”

He sighed, a sound that was half-resignation, half-hope. “Then we’ll figure this out together.”

You looked into his eyes, feeling the bond between you grow stronger with every passing moment. “We will,” you agreed, a sense of determination filling you.

Azriel pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Welcome home, Y/n,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

Welcome Home (Drabble)

Summary: Azriel just resting between your thighs 😎

Warnings: A bit filthy, Soft!Azriel, Oral (F! Receiving), No plot just smut, shadow daddy a little pussy drunk, unedited

** Minors don't interact under the cut **

"I missed you so much, baby," Azriel purred against your lips, the exhaustion from his week-long mission etched on his face. His kisses were gentle, each a soothing balm to the days spent apart, and his hands settled firmly on your waist, tugging you closer as he led you to the bedroom. You tried not to smile between kisses, knowing that his long missions often left him in a tender, soft mood.

All he wanted was to love you, his pretty little mate, who was conveniently wearing a dress he could easily pull the hem up as he laid you gently on the bed. His touch was needy and hungry as he slipped your dress up to your waist, a hitch in his breath as he spread your legs.

"No panties? Baby, you're too good f'me," he groaned, his voice thick with desire as he settled between your thighs. He pressed soft kisses along your inner thigh, each one sending shivers through you. "So beautiful," he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your skin, each word a tender caress that quickened your pulse.

Azriel was obsessed with your pretty cunt, the way it was already glistening for him as he brought his soft lips to your clit. Earning a soft moan on your lips as he gently kissed your soft folds. His big strong scarred hands spread your legs wider as they harshly gripped your thighs, ensuring he was holding back from devouring you. Azriel could taste your arousal, that sweet nectar from the gods that he thrived on, that he would look forward to on these missions.

"Azriel" You whimpered, your voice weak with desire as he was gently just kissing around your heat. As if hearing your pleas, Azriel's tongue was diving eagerly into your warmth. Your breath hitched at his every touch. You tried squirming or lifting your hips, but Azriel still held his meal, his blessing from the cauldron.

You looked down to see his pretty golden eyes half-lidded. Those gorgeous long eyelashes fluttering shut, and his moans that were filled with a mixture of adoration and desire that made your heart race.

"Ah…Azriel…baby…right there," you babbled, the words spilling from your lips in a breathless rush. But he didn't hear you; he was too drunk on your sweet nectar, devouring you like a man starved. His focus was entirely on you, each flick of his tongue and press of his lips sending waves of pleasure through your body, making you arch and gasp beneath him.

Azriel didn't seem to care by the way your body bucked and shuddered, by the deep and raspy noises that escaped your throat. His fingers soon joined his tongue, spreading you open wider, searching for that one spot that would make you jump and quiver.

Azriel would alternate between sweet slow kitten licks around your clit, piling on the pressure that would have you gasping for air. The build-up was agony, the promise of reaching your high just out of reach. From those sweet kind licks, he would move on to something more relentless. Leaving you arched wildly, thrusting your hips into his face, your back arching off the bed as the climax was fast approaching.

Azriel's lips smacked as he lapped hungrily at your juice. Every touch, every curl of his fingers sends waves through your body. The pleasure blinding you, ensuring that you were seeing stars, robbing you of all sense of the world but the need for release. The coil within you tightened and loosened with each one of Azriel's movements, each flick of the tongue, and thrust of the finger had you losing yourself in ecstasy.

You swore under your breath, pressing your fingers through his dark silky curls, urging him on as you pushed closer and closer to climax. His tongue worked in harmony with his fingers as he would moan, the nails of his free hand that resided on your thigh digging in as he kept your legs spread open for him. Bucking his hips into the sheets. Azriel drank your juices that were currently streaming down his pretty face. With a final, deep thrust of his fingers and a swirl of his tongue, you cried out his name like it was a prayer made for him.

"Azriel...I..oh gods" you whimpered as you reached those waves of bliss. Your nails dug into his hair, your hips bucking involuntarily. Azriel relished every last drop of your orgasm, his tongue greedily lapping up your juices.

"Gotta clean up your mess baby," He moaned against your wet folds.

As your legs began to shake less, Azriel finally pulled away, slowly, removing his fingers from your messy cunt. Azriel's face was slick with your essence as he looked at you with a lovesick grin as he began to unbuckle his leathers.