Azriel Masterlist

A collection of my writing for the Court of Nightwings' spymaster, Azriel. Immerse yourself in the world of shadows as you explore my creations dedicated to the silent assassin, from his brooding beauty to his unwavering loyalty.

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Series:-

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Epilogue

Available On:-

Wattpad:-His Shadows & Their Starlight

Inkitt:- His Shadows & Their Starlight

Note:- Chapters are first updated on Wattpad.

Taglist:-

@donnadiddadog @onebadassunicorn-blog @rcarbo1 @wintersquirrel

[pellucid-constellations]

Entanglement (Epilogue)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel had been pulling away. You thought it was from stress. His busy schedule. From being tired. Anything but what you assumed you saw in the street that evening. Anything but that.  

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: Fluff, a hint of melancholic angst, healing

a/n: This mini-series is officially completed!! This epilogue takes place after part 4 (the ending). The alt ending is a different universe of sadness, but I threw in some easter eggs from it if you look hard hehe 🤭 ily!!! I loved this series!! Enjoyyy <33

Part 0.5 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (end) | Alt ending (angst)

Main Masterlist ♡

~~

He said he loved you often—every day, multiple times a day. He whispered it while you were sleeping and mouthed it when you looked for him across busy rooms. Azriel kissed you hard and said the words into your mouth. He pressed them against your skin as if wanting them engraved there. As if, if he could, the memory of them would protect you from the future. From times untold. 

After confronting him about a change in your relationship weeks ago, Azriel showed you he loved you so freely. He went overboard, in your opinion, but you let him. You let him because you were still healing, too, and it wasn’t easy to forget the time you had spent apart. 

But, for you, this was a wound that could heal, skin over. 

For you, the lapse in your relationship was painful, and you could still hear the echoes of your mate leaving you, but they were overridden, so easily, by Azriel’s constant affection. You would second-guess, doubt, remember, and he would be there to kiss away the remnants of the loss. You would think about how the bond felt when it was closed, when you were blocked off, and Azriel would gently tug on his side, knowing what you needed. 

For Azriel, it would take longer. 

For Azriel, the events of the past were not only harrowing in the almost-loss of you, but he had lost himself. He had been unable to act on his feelings, his thoughts. He had done things that replayed each time he closed his eyes, both in action and through his inaction. He remembered how it felt when you were close to death, the panic and pain and desperation at the flickering nature of the bond. 

Azriel struggled to find simple comfort in the sight of you. He needed to be touching you, thinking about you, just to remind himself that he was free to do so. He needed to act on each inclination that passed through his mind just to prove to himself that he could. 

So, he kissed you. 

He kissed you and went overboard and he didn’t care if he got looks. 

Just to have you in his memory, free of pain, was a blessing, and Azriel had begun to wake up each morning with a thankful prayer sent to the ceiling of the bedroom. Some mornings were not so easily taken, and on those days, he needed you close. He needed proof that you were not dead. That you had not died thinking he did not love you. That you did not succeed in your threat to dissolve the bond between you. 

On those mornings, Azriel would wake up with watery eyes and find you, pulling you close and breathing you in. He would search for the bond next, wading in the feel of it. It would take several minutes for him to calm down, but you didn’t wake up. He preferred that. It was difficult for him to receive comfort for something he could so clearly remember being at fault for. 

Even if he didn’t mean it. 

Even if he couldn’t stop himself. 

Azriel always thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He told you so often, and it still never seemed enough. When he was leaving you, breaking you, Azriel distinctly remembered that was one thought he was allowed to have. One that didn’t burn. Maybe because it was a simple truth and not tied to the bond, but Azriel remembered latching onto your beauty when everything was falling apart. 

He’d found a loophole, and he’d exploited it. He remembered tying every thought of you to beauty. How your laugh was beautiful and your smile was pretty and how your personality and joy were effervescent. Sometimes, it didn’t work, and his thoughts would be painful again. But thinking about you was worth it, so he would rewire his train of consciousness until it routed back to you. 

He remembered having to think you were beautiful when you were sad and broken, too, just to allow his mind to even think of you. It had been hard, the hardest thing Azriel had ever done, to stand back and stare at the pretty picture of your grief. 

So Azriel held you. He brushed your hair before bed and sat with you in the bath. He did everything in his power to make you smile. You were so pretty when you smiled, and he never wanted to see the sadness he had caused on your face again. You had laughed easily before. It was more difficult to draw the melodic sound from your lips in the after. 

He tried, anyway. 

“Do you think he knows he looks foolish?” Azriel whispered into your ear, gathering you close from behind in the sitting room of the House. It was a heavy dose of affection to display in front of your family, but no one said anything. Not even jokes. They wouldn’t. Not for a long time. 

You nestled your head into the juncture of Azriel’s neck and gripped his wrists that wound at your waist. “He’s trying his best, Az. Give the guy a break.” 

Azriel kissed your cheek. Because he could. Because it was what he wanted to do. “While I understand the uncertainty of a new bond, he hasn’t let a breath of space get between them. He isn’t allowing for the wanting. The yearning.” 

“Yearning?” you gently scoffed, subtly eyeing Lucien’s attempt to get closer to Elain. “Is that something you were concerned about early on?” 

“Of course. It needed to be exciting for you.” 

“I was excited to have a mate. I don’t think these are the same circumstances. I don’t remember needing yearning.” 

“No? So you don’t remember the excitement of getting to know each other? How I would kiss you and leave for a few days on ‘missions’?” 

You gave a slight gasp. “So you’re saying you would leave on purpose? For this… yearning?” 

“I’m not saying it was on purpose. Just that the timing was convenient for my agenda.” 

Azriel pressed his tongue to his cheek to hide his smile, basking in your playful disbelief. He tugged you closer, if that were possible, and allowed his nose to brush your temple. You stared on at the budding love across the room, and Azriel stared down at the gentle way your mouth upturned. 

He wanted to see more. He wanted your full joy. 

“Ah—see that?” Azriel whispered into your ear. “A signature move. Lucien might just know what he’s doing.” 

“Signature? What are you talking about?” you hastily whispered back. 

Azriel gazed down at you when you twisted your neck back. He brushed your hair from your eyes and sent you a conspiratorial look. “The longing stare. Has just a hint of pain to it. You have to do it when they aren’t looking, but you know they are. Works like a charm. I would—oh, see? Look, darling, he’s doing it again.” 

You whipped back around to the scene unfolding. And then you covered your mouth and let out the most beautiful laugh. So full and bright and Azriel could get lost in it. Your body shook against him and he felt the laughter in his bones. His shadows swarmed in circles around the sound, and he did nothing to calm them. 

“Oh, gods, don’t—don’t say anything else. I’ll ruin it for them,” you giggled into your palm, struggling to catch your breath. 

“You’d ruin nothing,” Azriel smiled back. “If you’d known this trick back then, you would have spotted that I loved you before the bond,” he added. Because he had to. Because he was so in love with you and you needed to know. 

You turned your bright eyes back to him. “Is that so? I should have been more observant.” 

“Everything I could have ever wanted,” Azriel murmured between you, running his thumb along your cheek as if to capture the look of you. “I knew from the moment I saw you.” 

Your eyes were still teasing, but they darkened a fraction, becoming more earnest. “Very sappy today, it seems.” 

“I did vow to be so.” 

“You did.” 

Azriel considered, then, the next few lifetimes with you.

[finelinevogue]

i’ve been waiting for you

summary - you are training to be a Valkyrie, but it all goes horribly wrong

pairing - azriel x reader

word count - ~2k

🦇 . 🦇

“I don’t feel so good.” You whispered to no one.

You stopped climbing the mountain to catch your breath. The rest of the Valkyrie’s, Azriel and Cassian continued on the dirt path up the hill.

This was meant to be a test of endurance and self-belief as a Valkyrie. It was one of your final tests before the slicing of the white ribbon.

The test was a mountain hike and camp for two days.

Earlier today had been fine - simple, even - but when you had taken five minutes to go relieve yourself you had gotten bitten by something and ever since then you had felt yourself slowly deteriorate.

“Let’s keep going!” Cassian shouted from the front of the pack.

Your breathing was heavy as you put one foot in front of the other to keep going.

The bag on your bag was extremely heavy with all of your equipment in it and your body felt like it was slowly getting weaker, making it more difficult to carry everything.

You had to do this though.

You had to prove to yourself that you were worth more than nothing.

The distance between you and the bottom of the group was growing larger, but you were trying your best.

One step in front of the other.

“Okay, let’s take a short break.” Azriel suggested, stopping the group.

“Waiting for Y/N.. again.” A girl called Rosie groaned.

You had not really made friends with the rest of the girls in this group. Your friends included Nesta and Gwyn who were doing this trip with another group on a different day. The girls in this group didn’t seem to like you very much.

“Can we just keep going? Y/N can catch up, but we’re starving!” Annalise grumbled.

“What you decide to do isn’t up to me or Azriel, it’s up to you.” Cassian said.

“Well I vote Y/N can catch us up, otherwise we won’t make it before sundown.” Rosie said.

The other four girls nodded and agreed.

You didn’t get a chance to say anything - mainly because your breathing was too heavy anyway.

You let out a loud cough as you started to gain some distance on the group now, but before you could finish coughing they all started moving on again.

Cassian went onwards with the majority, but Azriel took off his bag and sat down on a rock. He was no doubt waiting for you.

Frustrated with yourself for not being able to keep up, you pushed forwards and upwards as quickly as you could causing you to stumble a few times.

“I’m sorry.” You said when you reached Azriel.

“For what?” He asked, looking at you softly.

“Not… being able to… keep up.” You said between short breaths.

You closed your eyes briefly and tried to get more air into your lungs.

You heard Azriel stand up beside you.

“Y/N?”

“Mhm?”

“Are you okay?” He asked cautiously.

“I’m fine.” You replied stubbornly, feeling quite the opposite.

You were sweating beyond comprehension and your leg was beginning to throb from where you were bitten. The pain was travelling up your leg and you weren’t sure whether not saying something might be the death of you.

“Are you sure?”

You opened your eyes again to find Azriel standing really close to you. His beautiful eyes were scanning your face carefully, looking out for any signs of deception from you.

He was so ethereal.

It was hard to believe he didn’t have a mate, let alone a partner.

You nodded, trying to focus on him rather than the hot, burning, pain running up and down your leg.

“Can we continue?” You asked.

“Of course.”

You couldn’t see the rest of the group now, but you knew they were down this path at the bottom of the valley. That’s where you were setting up camp for the night.

Azriel had mentioned there was a lovely lake down there, which was perfect for cooling off after such a long day of walking.

All you could think about though was curling up in your tent and hoping the pain would pass.

You walked in front of Azriel when normally he should be ahead of you.

The climb down wasn’t as bad as the climb up, apart from the fact your vision sometimes focused in and out. It made your descent down very hard to navigate and a couple of times Azriel’s shadows bumped you from the left or right to stop you from falling over.

>

The others had set up their tents by the time you had reached them.

It was after dusk now and they were sat around a campfire, heating their foods and laughing about random things.

Even if you knew you’d be included within the group for dinner - which you definitely weren’t - you couldn’t stomach anything at the moment.

Your stomach felt as weak as the rest of your body.

The pain in your leg had only gotten worse.

The girls stopped laughing to speak more quietly when you arrived and you knew they must be talking about you.

It pained your chest that no one asked whether you were alright, or even congratulated you on the hike down.

Azriel walked over to Cassian and started setting up his section of camp next to his brother, who had set up a separate fire just for them two.

You walked to a more secluded area of land and dropped your bag to the floor with a loud thump.

You winced as you sat down on top of your bag. Your leg screamed in pain as you bent it - so much so that you felt a bit sick from it all.

Unfortunately, your tent wasn’t going to build itself.

>

After you’d gotten everything set up, with a heaping load of bodily pain on the side, you crawled inside and laid down for the night.

Your stomach felt queasy.

Your head felt dizzy.

Your leg was throbbing and burning and screaming for help that you no longer had the energy for.

Worst of all, though, was how alone you felt.

You knew you’d never been able to easily slot yourself into a group of girls, but you’d never understood why.

It stung to hear them all out there laughing and eating and sharing scary stories, whilst you were in here hoping that you’d make it through the night.

Maybe you should have told Azriel, but you didn’t want to ruin this trip for anyone and you were scared of becoming the one thing your father used to repeatedly call you; an inconvenience.

So you stayed silent.

You wrapped yourself in a small blanket you’d brought and fastened your coat even tighter.

You knew you should take a look at your leg but you couldn’t find the energy to sit up, so you closed your eyes and you tried to get some rest.

>

You woke up shivering.

It didn’t even feel like you’d been asleep for that long but you could no longer hear the girls talking outside. You could hear the low tones of Cassian and Azriel’s voices though.

Your body trembled as you fought back the tears that were stemming from the raging pain of your leg.

You sniffled as you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force yourself back to sleep so you didn’t have to deal with this anymore.

The tears must not have been silent enough, though, because Azriel soon approached you.

“Y/N? Are you awake?” He spoke quietly into the night.

“No.” You said shakily, trying to stop the tears from running down your face.

“Can I open your tent?” He asked.

You didn’t want him to see you like this.

Like some weak girl who couldn’t even complete a simple two day hike. You were drawing too much attention to yourself, is what your father would say.

“I’m okay.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You sniffled and curled yourself further into a ball, trying to drown the world out no matter how much you wanted to let Azriel in.

When you didn’t respond to Azriel again he decided to started unzip your tent, “Alright, I’m coming in Y/N.”

You didn’t respond.

You felt his shadows crawl over you as they inspected you before their master could see you. They were checking on you and your heart tried to feel full over the thought of that.

Azriel’s presence was large in the tent.

It was only a small tent but he made it feel even smaller.

One of his hands came to rest on your shoulder, wishing you to turn to him. “Hey, look at me.”

“I’m okay.” You repeated, trying to convince yourself more than him.

Azriel didn’t push again because his shadows were urging him to check something. Azriel made sure that you were breathing steadily, before moving down towards your leg to where his shadows had swarmed.

He carefully rolled up the trouser on your left leg and swore when he only rolled it up a couple of centimetres. You were unsure what he was seeing as you hadn’t managed to check on it yourself, but from the pain you knew it must be bad.

“Y/N….” He whispered.

“I’m—.”

“Don’t you dare say that you’re okay to me.” His voice wavered - so much so that you moved from your cocoon to look at him.

“Az…”

“No don’t.” He said firmly, tilting his head down in shame, “I knew something was wrong.”

“How could you?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“The same way Cassian knows when Nesta is in pain or Rhys knows when Feyre is upset.” He faced you and as soon as his eyes landed on yours it felt like everything had clicked into place.

You gasped, eyes widening.

Azriel was your mate.

He gave you the smallest of smiles.

“I’m so sorry.” Your face shook and then the tears started falling.

Azriel shushed you, abandoning your leg for a moment so he could move up your body to be close to you. “Hey, no, no. What are you sorry for, hm?”

His hands cupped your cheeks and it made you feel so warm and full.

“I’m sorry that it’s me.” Your voice was so small. “I’m sorry.”

You kept repeating yourself, worried that he was upset that the Mother had chosen you for him. Azriel shook his head, leaning down until his forehead pressed against yours. You calmed down almost instantly.

“I’m not.” He shook his head, “I was hoping it would be you. For 286 years, I’ve been hoping.”

“I joined Rhys’s library team…”

“286 years ago, yes.”

“All this time.” You were stunned. “You waited all that time.”

“And I’d wait another 500 more.” Azriel said with such conviction, because he couldn’t believe that you thought you were worth less than that.

“I was hoping that I would be mated to someone half as wonderful as you, but I feel so lucky I get all of you.”

“All of me.” He smiled so wide.

You tried to smile when all of a sudden a huge stream of pain stemmed from your leg, causing your body to shift to accommodate the agony.

Azriel’s face went back to one of fury.

He kissed your forehead before returning right back down to your leg.

His shadows helped push your trousers up further to find the source of the problem. He couldn’t believe how bad this looked and how furious he was that you hadn’t said anything.

He was muttering to himself as he ripped off a piece of clean fabric from a nearby shirt and started blotting the area. You’re sure you heard him swear a couple of times too.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he pressed down lightly on a sore section.

“Az… I can’t…”

“Stay with me.” He ordered you.

You let out a groan of pain, feeling like you were okay to let your emotions show now that someone knew of your injury.

“Cassian!” Azriel shouted out of your tent and you swallowed back the shame that came from needing so many people to attend you.

“N-no.”

“So stubborn.” Azriel tutted.

Cassian came in the tent next and swore to the Mother when he saw your leg.

The next few minutes were a blur as you felt them both wrap and carefully bandage your leg. Your tears were so prominent that you couldn’t see beyond the blur of them.

Azriel came into focus though.

His face hovered over yours and carefully wiped your present tears.

“I know it hurts, my love, but Y/N I need to winnow you back to an infirmary. Okay? Madja will be able to help.”

You couldn’t do anything but nod.

The pain was so much now. Mixed with the explosive emotions of the mating bond you couldn’t work out down from up.

So tired.

So exhausted.

Maybe you should just…

“No, no, no. You stay with me. You hear me?” Azriel lifted the back of your neck up as your head rolled to the side.

You blinked slowly up at him.

“I hoped it would be you, too.” You said, before slipping out of consciousness.

>

You woke up to the birds tweeting and the tree leaves rustling in the wind.

Your eyes opened slowly, taking in the wooden ceiling and across the room to where the bedroom door was open. The room was sweet - filled with rustic decorations.

The bed you were laying on was so comfortable you could fall back asleep instantly.

Your head lolled to the side and you found Azriel looking out of the floor-to-ceiling windows. Your small movement was enough to make him turn and cross the room instantly to your sit at side.

His hands took ahold of your face, checking over everything and convincing himself you were going to be okay.

His mouth parted as if he wanted to speak, but nothing came out.

Your hand came up to cup against his wrist, your cheek melting into the comfort of his hands warmth.

“Hi.” You said, voice hoarse.

“Hi.” He smiled so delicately. “You scared me.”

“I’m—.”

“Don’t say you’re sorry. It should be me apologising for not noticing sooner.” His smile disappeared instantly and you could tell he was thinking back on the moment in the tent where everything had gone dark.

“If I can’t apologise then neither can you.”

“I thought…” Azriel tutted, lowering his head to his chest.

You used a hand to tilt his chin up.

“I’m okay.” You promised.

“I can’t believe…”

“Az, stop.” You cut him off before he could continue to beat himself up over something that had been far out of his control.

“I’ve dreamt every moment that you’d wake up, so it’s hard to believe this is real.”

You gave him a sad smile and brought his face closer to yours, “Maybe if you kiss me I can prove that this is real.”

Azriel didn’t even hesitate before moving his lips onto yours. The kiss was so soft and you could tell that he was worried about hurting you, but that didn’t make the kiss any less intimate.

You felt an overwhelming sense of relief and every course through you as Azriel kissed you.

He pulled back carefully, his lips slighter pinker than before.

“Definitely real.”

You chuckled, causing a smile to crack out of Azriel - your mate. What an honour to see that smile and be the cause of it.

“Do you feel that?” You placed your hand over your chest, trying to show Azriel where you felt the warmth and strength of the bond coming from.

What a feeling.

“I do.” He placed his hand over yours, holding on tight to you. You hoped he didn’t let go any time soon.

[tarotsoul]

Picture Perfect

AUTHORS NOTE: I'm not sure if I shared this with you guys on my previous Az blog, but I found it in my drafts and thought I'd (re)share while I await of inspiration to strike me again...

SUMMARY: Escaping to Day Court during the mating frenzy, Azriel can't get enough of you, and you want something tangible to hold the memory of his hunger.

WARNINGS: swearing, dirty talk, oral (female receiving), fingering, food play (sorta?), use of an enchanted camera ;)

PAIRING: Azriel x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

MASTERLIST

You've got the recording device on him the second he walks in with the platter of sliced watermelons.

It's your third day in the vacation home on the outskirts of Day Court and you're yet to actually leave the beach house.

Azriel has a cheeky kick to his step and you watch him get closer through the screen, jaw moving as he chews on a slice of watermelon.

You're in bed still, completely bare beneath the silky white sheets and Azriel's got a mixed array of clothing on that he grabbed quickly after announcing his craving for something sweet. 

You're both sure you're still a little drunk from last night when Azriel sways over and you let out a giddy giggle and kick the thin sheet off your heated body.

Azriel doesn't try to act coy, and neither do his shadows as they skitter across your supple flesh. Az tilts his head to get a better view of you and your thighs knock together in a rush of arousal. 

"I'm not so sure it's the watermelon that I want now," he rasps. 

You're too fucked to have a blush on your cheeks or seem bashful. The camera—a birthday gift from many years ago when Azriel had ventured to another realm—is still aimed at his face and he knows you've caught what he just said on tape.

Azriel sets the plate on the nightstand and lays beside you. His knees bend by your head and he props himself up by an elbow beside your hip.

A hip that's still gently bruised by his ministrations the night before.

He struggles to hide his pride at the sight as he takes a bite out of the sliced fruit, gazing at you through lidded eyes. It's not lost on you what he's doing, how he's playing up ever so casually for the camera.

You bite back the urge to clench your thighs together. You don't need to check to know you're soaked between your folds—you can feel it threatening to spill through your swollen lips and dribble down your thighs. 

Azriel's still got a mouthful of food in his mouth and you zoom in through the old camera, in complete awe of the male you get to call your mate.

You choose to watch him through the lense instead, basking in the glow and sheer beauty he radiates from the grainy screen and Azriel stills at the scent of your growing arousal.

The doors and windows of the summer house are open, leading down to the sandy beach and the gentle gusts of wind are smoothly breezing through the sheer net curtains. You can faintly hear the whistles of the birds and the sounds of the waves crashing just a few meters away.

It's when Azriel takes another bite that a bit of juice dribbles from his chin and splatters across your rounded hip. The coolness of it causes you to flinch slightly and he doesn't miss the way your thighs clench shut in eager desperation. 

It only encourages his wicked grin and he's leaning down to lick a broad swipe across the sticky skin. His tongue is cold on your flesh and his nose meets the dip between the apex of your thighs. He can't help but take a heavy inhale and his eyes flutter closed in pure ecstasy. 

The camera has migrated with his movement and Azriel rests the half eaten slice of watermelon upon your heat, those hazel eyes darkening as his smirk tugs on the corners of his lips.

You're shuddering as you try to keep the shot steady but you know your camerawork is atrocious. Not that it matters, it's only for you and Azriel to see.

Az waves his shadows away, wanting nothing more than to see your body whither beneath him. He shuffles as he spreads your thighs until he's laying between them and the watermelon slice has slipped just perfectly to cover your sweetest spot. 

You inhale shakily, your warm skin prickling with goosebumps in anticipation and carnal desire. The mating frenzy was heightening your needs tenfold.

"Let's make a dirty movie," he mumbles against your skin.

Az noses across the smooth skin of your inner thighs and you struggle to keep your eyes open, trying not to combust and drop the camera. You're nodding breathlessly as he shuffles closer, smearing open-mouthed kisses until he reaches your core. 

He lets his tongue flick across the fruit lazily and he knows you can see it from where you sit up on your elbows.

"Az, come on," you breathlessly plead; trying to roll your hips up to meet his face but he keeps them in place with two arms wrapping around your thighs.

"I just want a little taste," he hums under his breath, biting a calculated chunk from the fruit and its juices mix with the pool that dribbles from your cunt.

Azriel's eyes are fluttering closed again, head rolling at the faint taste of you on his tongue. The fruit is too overpowering and Azriel decides he doesn't like the watered-down taste of you. He wants it right from the source. 

"Need something sweeter," he drawls in a low sing-song murmur, nosing at the fruit slice until it's out of his way and all he can see is your pulsing cunt.

You shudder as his breath hits your core, hips buck under his hold involuntarily. Azriel greedily basks in your need. It's slightly sadistic, how much he gets off on watching you keen and beg, the smell of your desperation.

His tongue licks a broad stripe between your folds and is immediately flooded with arousal. His filthy hum of approval sends shockwaves through your body.

"I can’t get enough of you," he grunts out in appreciation. "Can’t get enough of how you taste." His chin glistens as he forces himself closer to you. 

Azriel's mouth smears across every inch of you, licking and sucking at everything he can. You keen into it, head thrown back. There's nothing methodical about it, the only time Azriel truly lets his inhibitions go.

It's messy and sloppy—always is when he tastes you. It's nothing but pure, animalistic desire, like he can't dare miss a single drop of you.

"So good, baby, oh Gods," you're praising him, keeping the shaking camera on him.

From the viewer, you can see just how eager and desperate he is. His face is close-up and his chin and cheeks are glistening in your excitement. His eyes are fucked, pupils blown in mania, like he's on a massive high and can't quite come down. 

Those magnificent wings spread wide on his back, blocking out the light that seeps through the drapes, cocooning you both in a pocket of darkness. 

You consider this to be the most orgasmic thing you've ever seen.

"Baby, you’re dripping down your thighs." His muffled acknowledgement sends a rush of heat to your cheeks but it's not from embarrassment, never could be when he's eating you so fucking good. 

Azriel tries to lap up everything you have to offer, completely emerging himself in you and he's staring up and past the camera. His eyes are focused on your face, like he's waiting for you to look at him and he won't falter his gaze until you do.

You know the deal. How he loves to keep eye contact especially in these filthy moments. You feel his burning gaze on your warm face and raise to your elbows again to get a good look. 

His hazel irises are glazed over with lust and need, almost eaten whole by his blown pupils. His lips are swollen and his entire face from his nose down is shining in the evidence of your arousal.

You hear the sheets ruffling before you really catch on and then you feel a scarred finger probe at your fluttering entrance.

He teases a little, swirling and coating it in your wetness before he gently pushes forward and coaxes you with filthy praises of encouragement.

"Tight little cunt, baby. Gods, look at you... dirty fucking girl. My dirty girl." Your back arches in complete bliss but he doesn't let his finger stay long before he's pulling out and raises the hand to reach for your lips.

You open your mouth straight away, tongue flaccid against your bottom lip and you welcome his digit with a watering mouth as your lips close around it.

You hum against him, tongue swirling against the textured scars that mark his skin. Azriel groans at the sheer filth of your actions, the way you lick him clean of yourself. He lets you keep his finger in your mouth while he suckles eagerly on your clit. 

He can feel you start to tremble around him but he knows you need more. As much your thighs are shaking and your chest is heaving, he knows you need a little push to really get you to that edge. With his spare hand, he unhooks his arm from around your thigh and brings it between your spread legs. 

The lack of strength pinning you to the mattress allows you to thrash and squirm when he presses two thick fingers in your weeping cunt and begins to curl them. Azriel's humming and grunting into your heat, fingers scissoring and curling in quick succession and you lose control over the camera. 

It topples to the bed until your thighs jerk and your knee knocks it to the floor.

"Fuck, I'm coming, Azriel! Fuck, oh Gods, just like that!" Your begs are muffled around his fingers, desperate to cum all over his mouth and he grants your wishes. 

"Cum for me, baby," he coaxes against your swollen nub and you shudder, letting go as you feel the coil tighten before it snaps and you're coming hard and fast. 

You can't tell left from right, night from day. You're reduced to a blubbering mess as your cunt grips tight on his fingers and he moves his hand away from your mouth to hold your thighs.

You try to thrash away from him with loud cries and frantic breaths but Azriel doesn't move. You beg him to stop, crying that it's too much but he's fucking infatuated with the sweetness of you. 

"Az, please. I can't," you pant out, fingers yanking on his hair until you manage to pull his face away from your oversensitive heat.

His eyes are almost black when he looks back up at you, refusing to remove his thick fingers. Your heart rate spikes, your chest aches at the territorial pull that tugs on the bond.

The sight of him has you losing any ounce of composure you had began to regain. His cheeks are flushed, his lips plump and his chin is dripping with your release.

It's a sight that only fucks you more, one that sends your body into shock and somehow has another wave of pleasure roll through your soul. You're too fucked to notice Azriel pick up the camera from the floor and this time, direct it to you. 

He's staring through the lense as the grainy filter is painted over your blissful body. Your full breasts flatten on your chest as you collapse on your back and he introduces the camera to your dripping cunt.

Azriel gets as close as he can, fingers still stuffed in your entrance as he pulls them out and spreads them open.

There's thick strings of release that connect the two scarred digits as he pulls them apart and with a painfully hard cock in his pants, he leans over to you. Your tongue licks a stripe between the two parted fingers, breaking that string of arousal.

Nothing is said as he hands you the camera and you face it back to him. He's stuffing his fingers between his swollen lips as he licks them clean, grinning around his digits while he stares down the camera lense.

A slightly giddy laugh slips past your lips, one that goes right to Az's cock. He crawls up your body until you're forced to move your arm to extend the camera so you're both in view.

His nose presses against yours, tongue licking a stripe from the bottom of your bottom lip to the tip of your nose and your own tongue tries to chase his hungrily.

"My favourite taste in the whole fucking world," he gushes, parted lips smearing against yours and you lick into his mouth. 

You kiss him like your life depends on it, soaking in the taste of him that's mixed with the taste of yourself. His scent envelops you, both comforting and demanding.

With as much strength as you can muster, you break from his lips and shuffle your positions so you're straddling his middle. Azriel looks completely fucked out beneath you, those strong wings flared and pinned to the mattress.

The camera is still in his face as you let him take it from your hands again and he flips it to get the best fucking view he's ever seen. 

He records you shimmying down his body with sex-crazed eyes and your bottom lip taut between your teeth. When you settle between his thighs, your hands unbutton his brown pants and you finally gaze back up at him through thick lashes.

Azriel's golden chest heaves, the divots of muscles on his abdomen flexing and contorting with every shuddered breath. Those eyes track your every movement, like a predator watching his prey.

Your lips curl at the edges, a sinful glint that glosses your gaze. You free his aching cock from his pants, allow yourself one moment to admire his length before flitting your gaze back to him.

"Now let me get a taste of mine."

A/N: okay you might not have enjoyed it but I lowkey find this concept SO sexy. This was originally a HS fic back in the day and I rewrote it to fit Azriel a while back, not sure if I shared this when I was rhysazriel but either way, it's back lol!!

Thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog so others can read it too! 🤍

[kymawrites]

lacy revelations

a/n: something small to help me reset from the bound by series lol

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: suggestive content, language

word count: 1.9k

synopsis: When Azriel visits your home for the first time, he stumbles across something you did not intend for him to find—though he certainly holds no complaints.

my masterlist

~ ~ ~

You really liked Azriel.

You were infatuated with him. You had been since he wandered into your shop for the first time years ago. Since your hand brushed his when you passed him the bag of rosehip tea he quietly requested—the same tea he bought when he returned the second time, and then the third, and every time after that.

He was always quiet. Reserved. Never really open for much conversation. Any sane person would have probably taken that as a sign of disinterest, but you couldn’t help the flutter of butterflies that erupted in your chest every time he walked inside your shop.

He was just so alluring. Intimidatingly beautiful—but there was also something so gentle about his demeanor. The soft cadence of his voice and the small smile he would always give as thanks. You probably should have been alarmed the first time the Night Court’s Spymaster walked into your tiny little store, but instead, something inside of you felt settled—a piece of you that always grew more and more restless until he finally visited you again.

It was insane. You were insane.

Then Azriel asked you to dinner.

You were fairly certain you were hallucinating, especially when his cheeks tinted the lightest shade of pink. Then he said your name again, and repeated the question with a small smile, and you found yourself nodding far too emphatically. It only made his smile widen, though, and you ended the night sitting across from him at a diner along the Sidra.

That was nearly two months ago, and your crush was quickly morphing into something more.

Two months had passed, and Azriel’s visits to your shop had gone from monthly to weekly, and now almost daily. At first, he had tried giving excuses for coming to see you, but he gave up after the first few weeks. Now, when you questioned him, he would say, “I wanted to see you, isn’t that reason enough?” and pressed a kiss to your lips that left you blushing and breathless.

Gods, you really liked him. You were fairly certain you were falling for him, and—more than anything—you wanted him to like you too.

You were still so nervous around him. You always fumbled with your words and felt your heart race when he asked you a question or smiled at you. He didn’t make you nervous—not necessarily. You were just so worried about fucking something up. It didn’t entirely make sense to you why he would be interested in you.

The chime on your door pulled you from your spiraling thoughts, and you sighed as you realized you forgot to lock it. “Sorry, we’re closed!” you called as you walked to the front.

“Even for me?”

You stilled at the sight of Azriel standing in the entryway, his shadows slowly slithering over to you. Your face instantly felt warm, and a nervous giggle escaped you that you immediately wished you could stuff back inside. “What are you doing here?”

Azriel shrugged, walking closer to you. “I wanted to see you.” His hand snaked around your neck, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. He pressed a kiss to your lips, and then another, before finally pulling away. “I thought we could get dinner?” he asked, his voice softer.

You licked your lips as you tried to clear your mind of the daze he just put you in. You glanced down at the clothes you had worked in all day, the fabric disheveled and stained with dirt from tending to your herb planters in the back. “I’m not really dressed for dinner,” you admitted, feeling embarrassed. “I need to go home and change first.”

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, and your head leaned a bit more into his touch. “I’ll walk you,” he murmured.

You immediately straightened. “To my apartment?”

Azriel’s brows pinched together ever so slightly, a bemused smile on his face. “Yes? If that’s okay.”

Azriel had never been to your place before, and you had never been to his. The two of you had been taking things slowly—so slowly that some days you thought you might just crawl right out of your skin from the nerves and anticipation that could overwhelm you if you thought about it too long. Then again, him just kissing you left you feeling like you were teetering on the edge of a cliff, so maybe slow was for the best.

You bit your lip. “My apartment,” you said, “It’s small. It’s just a studio. I don’t mind if you come over—just know it’s nothing special. It’s nothing like—”

“Honey,” Azriel said softly, “I’m never going to judge you. You don’t need to worry about that, okay?”

You nodded slightly, looking away shyly. Azriel reached behind you to grab your bag from the counter, then laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s go,” he murmured. “Make sure to lock up.”

The walk to your home was far too short for you to mentally prepare yourself to see Azriel in your space. Now he was standing in your tiny studio apartment that was definitely not designed with Illyrian warriors in mind, and your stomach was doing somersaults as your mind tried to process that he was here. In your home. Where there were clothes strewn across your bed and empty shopping bags from yesterday still scattered across the floor. “I told you—” You shifted a bit, gesturing around you. “It’s not a lot.”

Azriel cupped your face gently. “I love it.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, quieting any protests that wanted to fall from your mouth. He smiled when he pulled away, then made a show of looking around. He moved toward your bed, glancing at you. “You went shopping?”

“Yeah,” you answered, following behind him. “I just haven’t put any of it away yet.”

Azriel picked up the hem of a purple silk gown you bought from one of the sellers at the market, rubbing the fabric gently between his fingers. His lips twitched. “I look forward to seeing everything.”

On you, were the words left unspoken.

Your face warmed, and you folded your hands in front of you. “I’m not sure I’ll ever have a reason to wear something so elegant.” You laughed nervously, feeling a bit ridiculous. “I don’t know why I even bought it—it’s silly really, I just thought it was pretty.”

Azriel scoffed. “You could wear it tonight, if you want.”

You laughed. “You want me to wear an evening gown to dinner on the Sidra?”

Azriel shrugged, dropping the fabric back down on the bed. “If you want.” He grinned. “Although my family will create more than enough occasions for you to wear such a dress as well.”

It was a casual comment, and he likely meant nothing by it, but the mere mention of you meeting his family made your heart race. You were starting to worry he was avoiding the introductions—that he had doubts about a future with you—so it was nice to hear him envisioning you at his side at family functions.

Azriel continued his perusal through your assortment of clothes, and there was something endearing about his genuine curiosity over your shopping habits. You were about to leave him to snoop on his own to go change your clothes, when your eyes snagged on the blue lacy fabric you had forgotten about buying impulsively yesterday. Unfortunately for you, Azriel’s attention caught on the delicate undergarments too, his movements stilling.

You were frozen beside him, barely breathing as he glanced at you. His cheeks were dusted red, and when he reached for the intricate lace that you had perfectly envisioned as the twin color to his siphons, you thought you might faint.

He held up the lacy panties, and his pupils blew wide when he looked at you again. “Do you always have such pretty little underthings hidden beneath your clothes?”

Your skin was on fire. You were certain someone had set you ablaze, right there at the foot of your bed as Azriel let your lingerie dangle from his hand and his eyes drank you in. You  shook your head slowly, mind scrambling for an explanation that wouldn’t feel so mortifying. “No—I don’t—I just bought those.”

His brows raised slightly. “Did you.” Not a question. Not really—but you still found yourself nodding dumbly.

“I wanted to be prepared,” you whispered, and you immediately wished you could take the words back, feeling so foolish and inexperienced in front of this ethereal male that fae told stories about.

His eyes softened, and he finally put down the lace. You kept talking though, the words falling out of you freely now that the dam had crumbled. “I am not oblivious, Azriel. I hear the things people whisper when they see us. I know it does not make sense for you to be interested in me. I know I do not look like—”

“Stop,” Azriel growled, his hand coming up to grip your face. You swallowed hard, your eyes wide as you met his gaze of disbelief. His head shook so slightly, and he closed his eyes for a moment, as if struggling to choose his words, but eventually he said, “You are everything to me. I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks. You are mine, and I am yours. Do you understand?”

He had never claimed you so explicitly, so vehemently—to the point where there was zero doubt about his intentions with you. No one had ever called you mine, and you were left trembling from the veracity of Azriel’s words. They were the words you had been desperate to hear for the last two months, words that instantly quieted the doubts raging in your head.

You nodded, fighting back the tears that burned at the back of your eyes. Azriel brushed his thumb over your cheek, the touch so gentle in comparison to the ferocity he had spoken with to shut down your insecurities—insecurities that still lingered, but were for now, at least, quieted.

“Good,” Azriel murmured, his voice a low timbre that sent electricity down your spine. He picked up the lace again, this time both the top and bottoms, and then pushed them gently against your chest. “Now go put this on, and choose whatever outfit makes you feel stunning.” Goosebumps skittered across your skin. “Then I’m going to take you to dinner, and we’ll walk along the Sidra, and then—” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “—we’ll come back home, and if you so choose, I’ll spend the rest of the night worshiping your body covered in this sinful lace until you know exactly how feral you make me every time I lay eyes on you.”

Your mind was fuzzy as he pulled away, his lips stretched into a sinful smirk as he watched you clutch the lace to your body dumbly. “How does that sound?” he asked softly.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Good,” you rasped.

“Good,” he hummed. He pushed your hair behind your ear, then pressed the briefest kiss to your lips before pulling away again. He smiled, and dragged a thumb over your lips as he said lowly, “Now go change.”

[batboysanonymous]

A Soft Place to Fall

Azriel x Reader

Summary: When Azriel finds himself drawn to her warmth, her curves, her unapologetic softness, he knew he didn't stand a chance; and once he finally gave in, he'd never crawl back out of her arms, or her bed, again.

Azriel had spent five centuries mastering silence. He could slip through shadows, read a room with one flick of his cold golden eyes, and kill a man before his target ever heard a footstep.

And yet none of it prepared him for you.

None of it protected him from the way your laughter—bright, unfiltered—sank under his skin like sunlight in a place he’d long since left dark. Or the way you walked into a room with curves that refused to be quiet, hips that swayed like they knew his eyes were on them, thighs that whispered promises in the cradle of his dreams.

You were soft where others were sharp. Loud where others tiptoed around his silence. And you were kind to him. Kind. You looked at him like he wasn’t a weapon. Like he was a man.

And gods, he was fucked.

It started with glances.

One night at the River House, your thigh had brushed against his under the table. Just a second. Just a spark. But Azriel had spent the rest of dinner sitting stone-still, sweat between his shoulder blades, trying not to glance down at where the curve of your legs pressed so innocently against his. Like you didn’t know what you were doing.

He knew. Or hoped.

He went home that night and fucked his hand with your name on his tongue.

Over the following weeks, it only got worse.

His shadows told on him. Whispers of you undressing, fingers brushing lotion over your skin. Your voice, singing softly in your room when you thought no one was listening. The bond—Cauldron, the bond—was growing louder, insistent now, humming in his bones every time you walked by.

He began to crave you like blood. And it made him sloppy.

Sparring with Cassian? He caught a glimpse of you stretching on the sidelines and missed a block, got knocked on his ass. Mission debriefing with Rhys? Azriel didn’t hear a word—because you’d walked in wearing a dress that hugged the dip of your waist and the swell of your hips like a sin.

But he couldn’t touch. Not yet.

He didn’t know if you felt it. The bond. The way it pulled on him like a hook in his ribs, dragging him closer to you with every breath. You deserved more than a man who didn’t know how to be soft. A man who burned and bled and broke.

But then… you smiled at him.

That day in the training ring, your face flushed, thighs trembling from the workout, sweat glistening between your breasts—he snapped.

"You alright?" you asked gently, blinking up at him as he stalked toward you, dark and silent.

"No," he said hoarsely. “No, I’m not.”

You looked up at him with that wide-eyed kindness, a little confused, a little wary. “Az…?”

“I need to show you something.”

He didn’t give you time to overthink. Just took your hand and led you through the House—past the halls where his shadows curled and listened, past the tension thrumming in his chest—to the bathing chamber. Quiet. Private.

Sacred.

When the door shut behind you, you stood very still. “Is something wrong?”

Azriel turned to you, heart in his throat. “I think you’re my mate.”

Silence. Thick. Shocking.

You blinked, once. Twice. “You think—?”

“I know,” he said, stepping forward. “I’ve known for months. Since the moment I saw you. The bond—it’s been screaming at me, and I’ve been pretending I can ignore it. But I can’t anymore. Not when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m yours.”

The bath steamed behind him, sweet with oils and magic. And you—beautiful and wide-eyed and so damn soft—stood before him like a vision.

He raised a scarred hand. Let it hover near your cheek. “Say something. Please.”

You stared at him, lips parted, and then whispered: “Why me?”

Azriel exhaled, voice thick. “Because your laugh sounds like something I want to protect. Because when you walk into a room, I don’t see shadows—I see a future. Because your thighs drive me insane, and when you smile at me, it hurts. And because I would burn the world if you asked.”

Your eyes shimmered.

“Let me show you,” he said. “Please.”

And you nodded.

He undressed you slowly.

Azriel had never gone to war with trembling fingers, but he did now—unlacing the front of your tunic, pushing the fabric down your arms, eyes drinking in every glorious inch you revealed.

Your breasts spilled free first, soft and full and gods, he wanted to mouth at them for hours. Then your waist, the slight dip of your belly, the luscious curve of your hips.

You reached to cover yourself, instinctive.

“Don’t,” he rasped. “Don’t you dare hide from me.”

And when you dropped your arms, vulnerable and trembling, Azriel fell to his knees like he’d been commanded by the gods themselves.

You gasped as he kissed the inside of your thigh, his voice shaking with reverence. “I’ve dreamed of this. Every damn night.”

Then his mouth was on you.

Azriel worshipped you like a prayer—his tongue seeking, finding, devouring the sweet bundle of nerves that made you moan and buck against his face. He gripped your thighs with reverent hands, spreading you open wider for him, shadows caressing you like a second touch.

When your thighs clamped around his head, he groaned—groaned—like it was the only place he’d ever belonged.

“That’s it,” he whispered against your slick. “Use me, sweetheart. Let me feel you fall apart.”

You came for him like a breaking wave. Then again. And again. Until your legs shook and your voice was hoarse from moaning his name.

When he finally rose, your eyes were glazed, your lips kiss-bruised from his.

“Bath,” he murmured, lifting you easily into the water.

You curled into him, back to his chest, the warm water cradling you both. His hands never stopped moving—palming your belly under the surface, stroking the curve of your hip, dragging lazy circles along your inner thigh.

“You drive me mad,” he said, lips against your ear.

“I didn’t mean to.”

He smiled. “I think I was waiting for someone like you. Someone who wouldn’t flinch when I said I’m broken. Who would still want me when I got like this—desperate and wild.”

Then he kissed you.

Not fierce. Not possessive. Just full. Devout. Like a man finally drinking water after years of thirst.

Later, as he dried you off with his own hands—slow, careful, utterly in love—he murmured: “You're mine now.”

You smiled up at him. “And you're mine?”

Azriel lowered his head. Rested his brow against your belly.

“I’ve always been yours.”

Taglist: @willowpains, @masbt1218, @antonia002, @bookishcait, @fuckingsimp4azriel, @fanficscuziranout, @buttermilktea11, @lilah-asteria, @lreadsstuff,  @flintthegoodboyo, @saltedcoffeescotch,  @okaytrashpanda, @mariaxliliana, @kksbookstuff, @marina468, @tele86, @raccoonworld, Princesssunderworld, dinosandwaffles, @xadenswhore

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[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.18k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8

Chapter 9: Secrets Revealed

Isla's POV

I didn't expect Azriel to open up to me. Not like this, not tonight.

But here we were, standing in the dim glow of his room, shadows flickering like whispering sentinels around us. The tension was palpable, thick with something unsaid, something waiting to break free. I watched him, his eyes dark pools of conflict, his hands clenched at his sides as if holding himself together took more effort than he wanted to admit.

"I don't know where to start," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, rough around the edges.

"Start anywhere," I urged softly. "I'm here. I'll listen."

For a moment, he just stared at me, as if trying to decide whether he could trust me with the weight of what he was about to say. Then, slowly, he exhaled, his shoulders sagging under the burden he carried.

"It's Elain," he said, his tone laced with something I couldn't quite place—regret, maybe. Longing. Pain. "What I feel for her... it's not what everyone assumes. It's not a mating bond, not something that ties us together in the way people think. But it was real. It is real." He paused, his gaze distant. "I thought... I thought she could be mine, that we could be something. But she chose Lucien. And I—I don't blame her."

I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. Hearing him speak about Elain like this hurt more than I wanted to admit. But I stayed silent, letting him continue.

"She's happy with him. And that should be enough for me. I want it to be enough," he said, his voice breaking slightly. He looked away, his shadows flickering around him in agitated waves. "But it's not. And now..." He trailed off, his eyes finding mine again, filled with something raw and unguarded. "Now, there's you."

My heart skipped a beat, his words hanging in the air like a fragile, breakable thing.

"There's me?" I repeated softly, almost afraid to believe what I was hearing.

Azriel took a step closer, his shadows swirling around us both in a gentle, almost hesitant embrace. "You make it harder," he admitted. "Harder to ignore what I feel. Harder to hold onto what I thought was supposed to be my future."

His words should have scared me, should have made me wary of the broken pieces he was offering. Instead, they only made me want to step closer, to gather those pieces and show him that he didn't have to face this alone.

"I'm not asking you to forget her, Azriel," I said quietly, my voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside me. "I'm not asking you for anything except the truth. Because whatever this is, whatever we're becoming, it matters to me. And I think it matters to you too."

For a moment, he didn't respond. His shadows stilled, wrapping around us like a second skin as if shielding us from the rest of the world. And then, slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against mine in a touch so gentle it made my heart ache.

"It does matter," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "You matter, Isla. More than I know how to handle."

Something in me broke and healed at the same time, his words filling the cracks I hadn't realized were there. I stepped closer, closing the distance between us, and for the first time, I allowed myself to hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, we could figure this out together.

"I'm not going anywhere," I said firmly, meeting his gaze head-on. "Whatever happens, whatever this becomes—I'm here."

Azriel's hand tightened around mine, his shadows pulling us even closer. "And I'll try," he said quietly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I don't know how to do this, Isla. I don't know how to be what you deserve. But I'll try. For you."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The night passed in a blur of quiet conversations and lingering touches, neither of us willing to break the fragile peace that had settled between us. We didn't talk about Elain again, and I didn't push him for more than he was ready to give.

But something shifted that night—something I couldn't quite put into words. It wasn't just about Azriel anymore; it was about us, about the connection that had been growing between us since the moment we met.

By the time dawn broke, casting a pale golden light over Velaris, I knew that things would never be the same. Azriel's shadows were still with me, a constant, comforting presence that felt almost like an extension of him.

But as much as I wanted to stay in that moment forever, reality had a way of intruding when you least expected it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The next few days were a whirlwind of responsibilities and training, leaving little time for quiet moments with Azriel. But even in the chaos, his shadows never left me, always there when I needed them most.

I started to notice things I hadn't before—the way his shadows responded to my emotions, the way they seemed to understand me in a way no one else did. It was almost as if they were a language of their own, a language I was slowly learning to understand.

And then, one evening, as I stood on the balcony of the House of Wind, I felt them again, wrapping around me in a familiar, comforting embrace. I turned, expecting to see Azriel, but he wasn't there.

Instead, his shadows lingered, swirling around me like a silent promise.

"You always seem to know when I need you," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the wind.

The shadows didn't respond, of course, but I felt their presence nonetheless, a constant reminder that I wasn't alone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Later that night, as I made my way back inside, I found Azriel waiting for me in the hallway, his expression unreadable.

"We need to talk," he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with something I couldn't quite place.

I nodded, following him into one of the sitting rooms. He closed the door behind us, his shadows flickering in the dim light.

"I've been thinking about what you said," he began, turning to face me. "About the bond between us."

My heart skipped a beat, anticipation and nerves warring within me.

"I don't understand it," he admitted, his shadows swirling around him in an agitated dance. "But I know it's real. And I know that I don't want to lose it."

"You won't," I said firmly, stepping closer. "We'll figure it out, Azriel. Together."

For a moment, he just looked at me, his expression softening in a way that made my heart ache. And then, slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against mine in a touch that felt like a promise.

"I'll try," he said again, his voice filled with quiet determination. "For you, I'll try."

And as his shadows wrapped around us once more, I knew that whatever storms lay ahead, we would face them together. Because in that moment, I realized that the bond between us wasn't just about shadows or power—it was about something deeper, something that went beyond words.

It was about hope. About trust. About love.

Taglist:- @donnadiddadog@onebadassunicorn-blog@wintersquirrel@rcarbo1

[azrielmasterlist]

Where Light Meets Shadows

Storyline:- You’re not just anyone in Prythian — you’re a Moonlight Witch, the last of your kind, hidden in plain sight. You’ve always lived in the shadows of Velaris, tucked between the glimmering light of stardust and secrets. A healer to some, a myth to others — your power blooms under the moon, especially during a Full Moon, and dangerously intensifies on a Blue Moon. When that happens, your magic manifests as glowing, intricate patterns along your skin — ethereal and stunning, like someone painted the stars directly onto you. But your power isn’t always beautiful. Sometimes, it bites back. Enter Azriel, the brooding Shadowsinger who’s always lived in the grey, suspicious of everything he cannot understand, which, unfortunately, includes you. That is, until the mating bond snaps into place. And suddenly, understanding you becomes not just a curiosity, but a necessity.

Azriel x Reader — Moonlight Witch AU

Words:- ~6.3k+ words

Warnings:- Trust, identity, belonging, love as strength(not a chain) , power vs vulnerability, magic x shadows dynamic.

Azriel's POV

The cold air cut through me as I stood on the balcony of the House of Wind, my shadows restless as they circled me. The night was clear—Velaris below shimmered with its usual glow, the city bathed in soft starlight. Peaceful, serene. I should have found comfort in that.

I didn't.

Ever since that... near kiss with Elain, I'd felt a gnawing emptiness in my chest. I didn't know what to call it—regret? Guilt? Confusion? A tangled mess of emotions that I couldn't sort out, let alone confront.

Elain had looked at me with those soft, wide eyes full of hope and expectation. And I—stars, I'd almost given in. Almost. The air had thickened between us, and for a moment, I'd thought... No, I can't think about it. Not when I had been the one to walk away.

I left her standing there that night, hurt and bewildered. Every time I thought about it, something inside me twisted painfully. But what else could I have done? I didn't want her—not in the way she deserved. Not in the way that felt right. Something about it felt forced, like trying to mould myself into something I wasn't.

So, I did what I always did—I pulled away. It was easier to distance myself than to face the swirling mess in my chest. I avoided Elain, I avoided my brothers. Hell, I even avoided Mor. I buried myself in silence, hoping it would drown out the noise in my head.

It didn't work.

A soft knock sounded behind me, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned, finding Rhysand leaning casually against the doorway, arms crossed, violet eyes sharp and knowing. Too knowing. He always saw right through me—through everyone.

"You've been sulking long enough," Rhys said, quiet but firm. "I have a mission for you."

I didn't respond immediately, waiting for him to elaborate. He stepped forward, his expression more serious now.

"There's a village near the northern border. Strange things have been happening—disappearances, whispers of dark magic. I want you to check it out."

A mission. Something distant. Away from Velaris, away from everything that felt too close and complicated. I straightened, nodding once.

"When do I leave?" I asked, already eager for the distraction.

"Tonight," Rhys replied, but then added with a softer tone, "Az, take this time to clear your head. Figure out what you want."

Figure out what I want. As if it were that simple. As if I could untangle the mess of emotions I hadn't even begun to understand.

But I didn't argue. I never did when it came to orders. I gave Rhys a curt nod before turning away, already preparing myself mentally for the journey ahead. I didn't want to linger any longer. The shadows were restless—they whispered of something I couldn't name.

By the time I'd packed my gear and strapped Truth-Teller to my side, the night was deep, the stars glittering above like shards of broken glass. I didn't say goodbye. No one was awake, and even if they were, what was there to say?

I summoned my shadows, their familiar presence curling around me like a second skin. With a few powerful beats of my wings, I soared into the sky, heading north.

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The flight was long, giving me too much time to think—exactly what I didn't want. I pushed the thoughts away, focusing instead on the mission. I didn't know much beyond what Rhys had told me, but that was enough. Disappearances, dark magic—are typical. Handle it, report back. Clean, simple.

Except nothing ever felt clean or simple anymore.

By the time I reached the village, dawn was just breaking over the horizon, casting the forest in shades of grey and silver. The place was small, barely more than a cluster of cottages surrounding a central square. Everything about it felt quiet. Too quiet.

I landed just outside the village, folding my wings tightly against my back as I approached. The few villagers I saw eyed me warily, their gazes lingering on the scarred leather of my armour, on the shadows flickering around me. They didn't trust me—not that I blamed them. I didn't exactly look friendly.

I made my way to the local inn, securing a room for the night. The innkeeper, an older man with a weathered face, regarded me with a mix of curiosity and caution.

"Here on business?" he asked gruffly, handing me a key.

"Something like that." I didn't offer any more details.

He shrugged, seeming content with my vague answer. "Watch yourself in the forest," he said as I turned to leave. "Strange things have been happening lately. People disappearing, lights in the woods at night. Some say it's dark magic."

"I'll be careful," I replied, though I wasn't worried. Whatever was out there, I could handle it. I'd dealt with worse.

The room was small, barely big enough for a bed and a rickety table, but it was enough. I set my weapons down beside the bed, but I didn't rest. Instead, I stood by the window, staring out at the forest beyond the village.

The shadows whispered to me again, pulling my gaze toward the trees. Something was out there—I could feel it. Something strange, something powerful.

I didn't know what I was looking for. I only knew that I needed to find it.

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The next night, I ventured into the forest, guided by nothing but instinct and shadows. The villagers had spoken of strange lights and strange sounds, and while I didn't expect to find anything immediately, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was waiting for me.

The deeper I went, the thicker the trees became, their branches intertwining overhead to block out most of the moonlight. Shadows flickered around me, moving restlessly as if they sensed something I couldn't.

And then I saw it—a faint glow in the distance, too steady to be fireflies, too soft to be a campfire. I moved toward it, silent and cautious, my hand resting on the hilt of Truth-Teller.

As I drew closer, the glow became clearer. It wasn't firelight—it was something else entirely. Silver-blue patterns shimmered faintly against the darkness, shifting and pulsing like living light.

I paused, my breath hitching slightly as I caught sight of her.

She stood in the clearing, bathed in moonlight, her skin marked with intricate glowing patterns. They shifted across her body like a living tapestry, beautiful and mesmerizing. The magic radiating off her was unlike anything I'd ever felt before—ancient, wild, untamed.

My shadows recoiled slightly, wary of her power, but I ignored them. I couldn't tear my gaze away. She was unlike anyone I had ever seen.

And for the first time in a long while, something inside me stirred—something I thought I'd lost.

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Reader's POV

The night was perfect. The air was crisp and cool, the scent of pine and earth mingling with the faint floral notes of the wildflowers scattered across the forest floor. Everything was illuminated in silver, bathed in the soft light of the full moon hanging high in the sky. My favourite kind of night.

I had always loved this feeling—being out under the full moon when the world felt quiet and alive all at once. But tonight was different. Special. A familiar tingling spread across my skin, warm and electric, as the intricate patterns began to form.

I glanced down at my arms, watching as the silver-blue lines shimmered to life, winding delicately over my skin like a living piece of art. They always appeared like this on full moons, as if the moonlight itself awakened something ancient and beautiful within me. I traced one of the glowing lines absentmindedly with my finger, marvelling at how they pulsed gently in time with my heartbeat.

A soft breeze stirred the leaves above me, carrying with it the distant hoot of an owl. The forest was alive in its way, peaceful yet brimming with unseen life. I should have felt alone out here, but I didn't. I never did on nights like this.

I continued walking deeper into the woods, letting my fingers brush against the leaves and bark as I passed. There was no real destination in mind—I was simply following the pull of the moonlight, letting it guide me wherever it wished.

And that's when I felt it.

A shift in the air. Subtle, but unmistakable. The hairs on the back of my neck rose, a strange energy prickling at my senses. I froze, my breath hitching slightly as I scanned the trees around me.

Someone was watching me.

I couldn't see them, couldn't hear them, but I knew they were there. My magic whispered a warning in the back of my mind, telling me to be cautious, to be ready.

I didn't run. I didn't panic. Instead, I stood tall, keeping my breathing steady as I let my senses stretch outward, searching for the source of that strange, unfamiliar presence. It was cloaked in shadow, silent and unseen, but there was a weight to it—something dark and powerful, like the stillness before a storm.

And then he stepped into the clearing.

The first thing I noticed was the shadows. They clung to him like a second skin, curling around him in restless waves, as if they had a mind of their own. He moved with a quiet grace, every step deliberate and measured, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that made my heart stutter.

He was... beautiful, in a cold, dangerous sort of way. Sharp cheekbones, dark hair that fell just past his brow, and those eyes—a deep, swirling haze that seemed to pierce right through me, as if he could see every secret I carried.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The only sound was the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze, the moonlight casting long shadows across the forest floor.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice steady despite the rapid beating of my heart.

He didn't answer right away. His eyes flicked over me, lingering on the glowing patterns that adorned my skin. I could see the way his jaw tightened slightly as if he was trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

"I could ask you the same thing," he said finally, his voice low and smooth, laced with a quiet sort of authority.

I crossed my arms over my chest, the glowing lines shifting slightly with the movement. "I live here," I said simply. "You don't."

Something flickered in his gaze—curiosity, maybe. He took another step forward, the shadows around him following like loyal companions.

"You're a witch," he said, more a statement than a question.

"A Moonlight Witch," I corrected, tilting my head slightly as I studied him. "And you're not just some traveller passing through, are you?"

His lips quirked up slightly at the corner, though it wasn't quite a smile. "No, I'm not."

There was something about him—something that felt both familiar and foreign all at once. He carried himself with the quiet confidence of someone who had faced countless battles, someone who knew the weight of power and responsibility. But beneath that cold exterior, I could sense something else. Something... broken.

Before I could say anything more, the wind shifted again, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke. My eyes narrowed as I turned toward the direction it came from.

"Something's burning," I said, already moving toward the edge of the clearing.

He followed without hesitation, his movements silent as a shadow. I could feel his presence close behind me, a steady, grounding force amidst the growing tension.

It didn't take long to find the source—a small patch of underbrush smouldering near the base of an old oak tree. I knelt, placing my hand over the earth as I summoned a wave of cool energy to smother the flames. The glow on my skin-brightened for a moment as the magic flowed through me, and within seconds, the fire was out.

When I stood, I found him watching me again, his expression unreadable.

"That was impressive," he said quietly.

I shrugged, brushing the dirt off my hands. "It's nothing special. Just part of being a Moonlight Witch."

His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer before he spoke again. "Azriel."

I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden introduction. "What?"

"My name," he said, his gaze steady. "It's Azriel."

There was something about the way he said it—simple, direct, yet strangely intimate. As if sharing his name was a rare and significant thing.

"I'm—" I hesitated for a moment, then decided it didn't matter. "Just call me Moonlight."

The corner of his mouth twitched again, that almost smile returning for a brief moment. "Fitting."

We stood there in silence for a while, the tension between us easing slightly. The moonlight continued to bathe the forest in silver, the patterns on my skin pulsing softly in time with my heartbeat.

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Azriel's POV

I shouldn't be here. That thought had become my constant companion ever since I met her—this strange, ethereal Moonlight Witch who had wandered into my life like a dream woven from silver and shadow. Every instinct told me to turn around, walk away, and forget the way her skin glowed in the moonlight, the way the intricate patterns shimmered like living light, hypnotizing me with every breath she took.

But I couldn't leave.

The shadows wrapped around me as I watched her from a distance, hidden among the trees. I didn't understand what was happening to me. I was supposed to be focused on my mission, on the orders Rhys had given me, but ever since that first night in the clearing, I found myself seeking her out, drawn to her by something I couldn't name.

She wasn't like anyone I had ever met. There was a calmness about her, a quiet strength that reminded me of the forest itself—steady, ancient, untamed. Yet, beneath that serene exterior, I sensed something more, something powerful and dangerous. And it terrified me.

Because I felt the pull.

I didn't want to admit it, but there was no denying it anymore. The bond—the one I had dreamed of, dreaded, longed for—it was there, whispering in the back of my mind every time I saw her. And it was getting harder and harder to fight.

She didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she didn't show it. She carried on as if nothing had changed, her composure unshaken, her gaze calm and knowing. Moonlight Witches don't interfere with fate unless fate chooses them. That's what she had said when I asked about her magic.

But what if fate had chosen her?

I clenched my fists, trying to push the thought away. It didn't matter. I couldn't think about that right now. I had too many unresolved feelings, too many questions. Elain's face flashed in my mind—her soft smile, the way her eyes had held mine that night on the balcony before we had almost...

No. I couldn't go down that path again. Elain had made her choice, and it wasn't me. Still, the ache lingered, the uncertainty gnawing at the edges of my mind. And now, here I was, standing in a forest miles away from Velaris, haunted by the ghost of what could have been and the possibility of something entirely new.

I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to step out of the shadows. She was sitting on a fallen log by the edge of a small stream, her legs crossed, her fingers idly tracing the glowing patterns on her arms. The moonlight bathed her in silver, making her look almost otherworldly.

She glanced up as I approached, her expression unreadable. "You're restless again."

It wasn't a question.

I stopped a few paces away, shoving my hands into the pockets of my cloak. "How do you know?"

Her lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "You're always restless, Azriel. Even when you're standing still, it's like you're bracing for something—like the whole world might collapse around you if you let your guard down for even a second."

I didn't know how to respond to that. She had a way of cutting through my defenses, of seeing parts of me I wasn't ready to face. It was unnerving.

"I don't like staying in one place for too long," I said eventually, my voice quieter than I intended. "Too much time to think."

She nodded as if she understood, her gaze drifting back to the stream. "Thinking can be dangerous. Especially when you're thinking about things you can't change."

I stared at her, my mind racing. How did she do that? How did she know exactly what to say to leave me off balance, questioning everything I thought I knew?

"I didn't come here to think," I said after a moment, my tone sharper than I meant it to be. "I came here to do my job."

"And yet, here you are," she said softly, her eyes meeting mine. "Following something you don't understand."

The tension between us was palpable, a silent battle neither of us wanted to acknowledge. I could feel the bond, faint but unmistakable, tugging at the edges of my mind, urging me closer. But I didn't move. I couldn't.

"I don't know what you want from me," I said finally, my voice rough with frustration.

"I don't want anything from you, Azriel." Her voice was calm, steady. "Fate doesn't choose lightly, but it doesn't force us, either. You're free to walk away if that's what you want."

Walk away. The words echoed in my mind, tempting me with the promise of simplicity. But we both knew it wasn't that easy. Bonds didn't just go away. They lingered, a constant reminder of what could be, of what should be.

"I can't walk away," I admitted, the weight of the confession settling heavily on my shoulders. "But I don't know if I can stay, either."

She stood then, stepping closer until there was barely a breath of space between us. I could see the patterns glowing softly on her skin, could feel the warmth radiating from her like a beacon in the dark.

"You don't have to decide right now," she said quietly. "I'm not asking for anything. Just... be here. Let fate take its course, whatever that may be."

I closed my eyes, fighting the urge to reach out, to touch the light that seemed to call to me with every beat of my heart. It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wasn't supposed to feel this way—not when everything was still so uncertain, so unresolved.

But as I stood there, caught between the past and the possibility of something new, I realized that maybe, just maybe, I didn't have to have all the answers right now. Maybe it was enough to simply be here, to let the bond do what it would, and to trust that, in time, I would find my way.

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It was here. The blue moon.

I felt it before I saw it, a hum beneath my skin, a soft vibration in my very bones. My fingers trembled as I glanced up at the sky, watching as the massive silver disc climbed higher, its light flooding the forest in an ethereal glow. The patterns on my skin had already started to shimmer faintly, but this time it was different. Stronger. Wilder.

I clenched my fists, trying to keep my breathing steady. I had been through this before—every Moonlight Witch had. But a blue moon was no ordinary full moon. The energy it brought was overwhelming, intoxicating, and if I wasn't careful, it could consume me.

"Not now... Please, not now," I muttered under my breath, pacing the small clearing. The last thing I wanted was to lose control in front of him.

Azriel.

He wasn't far. I could feel his presence, the steady pull of the bond that connected us. I didn't need to look around to know he was watching from somewhere in the shadows, as he always did. It had become our silent routine—he would linger nearby, never too close, never too far, always there but never fully present.

I hated how aware I was of him. How, despite everything, my heart still raced whenever he was near. He was a constant storm in my life, one I had no way of predicting. And now, with the blue moon overhead and my powers spiraling out of control, he was the last person I wanted to see.

But fate, as always, had other plans.

The patterns on my skin began to glow more intensely, spreading across my arms like living flames. I could feel the magic rising, a wild tide that threatened to drown me. The air grew thick, charged with energy, and I stumbled back, barely able to keep myself upright.

"Steady," I whispered to myself, planting my feet firmly on the ground. "Just breathe. You've done this before. You can do it again."

But it wasn't working. The magic was too strong, too wild. It pulsed through me, lighting up every nerve, every thought. My vision blurred as the world around me seemed to spin, and a faint ringing filled my ears.

And then he was there.

"Are you okay?" Azriel's voice was low, steady, like the calm before a storm. I didn't need to turn around to know it was him. His shadows whispered around us, recoiling slightly from the power radiating off me.

I tried to nod, tried to reassure him that I was fine, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, a surge of magic rippled through me, causing the patterns on my skin to flare brighter, almost blindingly so. I staggered forward, clutching at my arms as if that would somehow contain the chaos.

"Stay back," I managed to gasp, my voice strained. "It's... too much. I can't—"

"You don't have to do this alone."

His words cut through the noise in my head, sharp and certain. Before I could protest, he closed the distance between us, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders. The contact sent a jolt through me, not unpleasant but overwhelming in its intensity. His touch was steady, grounding, and for a moment, the chaos inside me stilled.

But only for a moment.

Another wave of magic surged through me, stronger this time, and I cried out, the patterns on my skin burning like fire. Azriel didn't flinch. Instead, he tightened his grip, his shadows swirling around us like a protective cocoon.

"Look at me," he said, his voice calm but commanding.

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. His eyes were dark, filled with something I couldn't quite name—concern, determination, something more.

"You're not alone," he said again, softer this time. "Let me help."

I wanted to argue, to push him away, but I didn't have the strength. The magic was too wild, too much for me to handle on my own. So I did the only thing I could—I let him in.

His shadows wrapped around me, cool and comforting, like a balm against the fire raging inside me. I could feel his presence anchoring me, steady and unyielding. He didn't try to suppress the magic—he couldn't—but he held me through it, whispering calming words I barely heard over the roar in my head.

"Breathe," he murmured. "Just breathe. I'm here."

I clung to his words, to the steady rhythm of his voice, and slowly, gradually, the chaos began to subside. The patterns on my skin dimmed slightly, their glow softening as the wild magic settled into something more manageable. My breathing evened out, and the ringing in my ears faded.

When I finally felt stable enough to stand on my own, I pulled back slightly, though his hands remained on my shoulders, steadying me.

"Thank you," I whispered, my voice barely audible.

He nodded, his gaze never leaving mine. There was something in his expression—something raw, unguarded—that made my heart ache. For all his shadows, all his walls, he had stepped into the chaos without hesitation, without fear.

"Are you always this stubborn?" I asked, a faint smile tugging at my lips despite everything.

His lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Only when I have to be."

Silence settled between us, heavy with unspoken words. I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to thank him for what he had just done. He had seen me at my most vulnerable, had held me through a storm I hadn't been sure I could survive.

"You didn't have to do that," I said quietly. "You could have walked away."

"I couldn't," he said simply, his voice low but firm. "You're my—" He cut himself off, as if realizing he had said too much. His shadows flickered, restless, but he didn't look away.

I knew what he had been about to say. The bond tugged at me, faint but undeniable, a constant reminder of the connection we shared. I didn't know what it meant, not yet, but in that moment, I knew one thing for certain—I wasn't ready to walk away from him, either.

The blue moon still hung high in the sky, its light bathing the forest in silver, but the chaos had passed. The patterns on my skin remained, glowing softly in the moonlight, but they no longer burned.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt... calm. Anchored.

And it was because of him.

"I guess fate really doesn't leave us much choice," I said softly, more to myself than to him.

"Maybe," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I think... sometimes, we get to choose what we do with it."

I met his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. There was something in his eyes, something raw and real, that made me believe him. Maybe fate had brought us together, but it was up to us to decide what came next.

And for the first time, I wasn't afraid to find out.

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The chaos had settled, but my heart hadn't.

I stood there, watching her breathe. Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, and the glow of the patterns on her skin dimmed to a soft luminescence, making her look otherworldly—ethereal, like something born of moonlight itself.

The tension in my shoulders refused to ease. Even though the storm of her power had passed, I felt on edge, as though I'd been dragged too close to something beyond my comprehension.

Or maybe it was because of what I knew now.

She was my mate.

The realization had come with such a quiet certainty, as though it had always been there, waiting for me to acknowledge it. I didn't want to believe it at first. I didn't want to feel this way—not again. Not when the bond meant opening myself up to something I wasn't sure I could survive.

I had already failed once, hadn't I? Failed to navigate the tangled mess of my emotions after Elain. Failed to understand what I wanted—what I needed. And now, here I was, standing before the woman fate had chosen for me, unable to take a single step forward.

"Azriel?" Her voice broke through my thoughts, soft and hesitant. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes searching mine, and I knew she could sense it—the bond, the truth hanging heavily in the air between us.

"I'm fine," I said automatically, my voice rougher than I intended. I stepped back, putting a little more distance between us. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep me from doing something reckless—like reaching for her again.

But she didn't let me retreat so easily. Taking a step forward, she closed the gap, standing so close that I could feel the warmth radiating off her. Her expression was calm, patient, but there was a flicker of something in her eyes—concern, maybe, or understanding.

"You don't have to pretend with me," she said softly. "I can feel it too."

I clenched my jaw, willing myself to keep it together. I wasn't ready for this—for her to see the parts of me I kept hidden from everyone else. The shadows shifted restlessly around me, reflecting the turmoil inside.

"I didn't want this," I admitted quietly, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "I didn't ask for a mate."

Her gaze didn't waver, didn't flinch. She simply stood there, waiting, as though she understood that I needed to say it, needed to get it out.

"I don't know how to do this," I continued, my voice low and strained. "I don't know how to be what you need. I've spent so long hiding from the world, from myself... How am I supposed to—"

"To love me?" she finished gently, cutting off my spiraling thoughts.

I swallowed hard, the weight of her words settling over me. Love. The word felt foreign, distant, like something I wasn't sure I was capable of.

"I'm not asking for that," she said quietly, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between us. Her hand reached out, brushing against mine, and the touch sent a spark through me, soft but undeniable. "All I'm asking is that you let yourself feel. Whatever it is—anger, fear, confusion—it's okay. Just don't shut me out."

I stared down at her hand, at the way her fingers rested so lightly against mine, as though giving me the choice to pull away or to hold on.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn't pull away.

I turned my hand over, letting my fingers intertwine with hers. The connection was simple, quiet, but it grounded me in a way I hadn't expected. She didn't push, didn't demand anything of me. She simply stood there, offering me her presence, her calm, and I found myself holding on a little tighter.

"I'm scared," I admitted, the words barely more than a whisper. "Not of the bond. Not of you. I'm scared of what it means—what it'll take from me."

She gave a small, understanding nod, her thumb brushing gently over the back of my hand. "I'm scared too," she said softly. "But maybe... maybe we don't have to figure it all out right now. Maybe it's enough to just be here, together."

The simplicity of her words caught me off guard. I had spent so long complicating everything—every feeling, every choice. But here she was, offering something so simple, so real.

I didn't deserve her. That much was clear. But fate didn't care about what I thought I deserved. Fate had given me this bond, this woman, and for the first time, I didn't want to fight it.

I let out a shaky breath, my free hand coming up to cup her cheek. She leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment, and something in my chest loosened. The tension, the fear—it didn't vanish completely, but it didn't feel as overwhelming anymore.

"I don't know how to do this," I said again, my voice softer this time. "But I want to try. With you."

Her eyes opened, meeting mine with a warmth that chased away the lingering shadows in my mind. "That's all I could ever ask for."

I didn't know who moved first—maybe it was her, maybe it was me. But before I knew it, our lips met in a kiss that was as soft as it was certain. There was no rush, no desperation—just a quiet acceptance, a shared understanding that this was the beginning of something neither of us fully understood yet.

Her hands rested lightly on my chest, her touch gentle but grounding. And for the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to feel without holding back.

When we finally pulled away, her forehead rested against mine, and we stood there in the quiet of the forest, the blue moon casting its silver light around us.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said softly, her breath warm against my skin. "We'll figure it out. Together."

I closed my eyes, letting her words sink in. The shadows around us stilled, as though they too had found a measure of peace.

Together.

It wasn't a promise I had ever thought I'd make. But here, under the light of the blue moon, with her by my side, it didn't feel like a burden. It felt like a beginning.

And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't afraid of what came next.

I opened my eyes, meeting her gaze with a quiet determination. "Together," I agreed, my voice steady. "Whatever comes next, we'll face it together."

She smiled, a soft, radiant smile that made something in my chest tighten in the best possible way. And as we stood there, hand in hand, I knew that no matter what the future held, we would find a way through it.

Together.

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Velaris was serene, and for once, that serenity irritated me.

The golden glow of the setting sun painted everything in warmth—the cobblestones, the rooftops, even the Sidra itself seemed to shimmer with a contentment that I couldn't bring myself to feel. I stood by the balcony, fingers curling and uncurling against the cool stone, watching the river drift lazily by.

I should've been in awe of the view. Velaris always felt like a living work of art, but today it was just a backdrop. A distraction I didn't want.

Azriel was with Elain.

Which, of course, was fine. Totally fine.

Except that it wasn't.

A sarcastic voice in my head chimed in: Sure, you're totally calm. That's why you've been counting the seconds since he left.

A bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. I tried to convince myself it didn't matter. Tried to tell myself I wasn't that kind of person—the insecure one, the jealous one.

But still.

I let out a sigh, tilting my head back to catch the last of the sun's rays. The warmth on my skin was grounding, a little reminder that I was still here, still me. Even if my thoughts were running wild.

I didn't blame him, not really. Closure was important, especially for someone like Azriel, who carried more unspoken burdens than he ever let on. He needed to tie up loose ends, to set things right in a way that wouldn't leave lingering shadows in his heart.

And yet, the thought of them talking—of him looking at her the way he once had, of her soft voice filling the space between them—made me feel like I was unraveling.

I shook my head, muttering to myself, "Get a grip."

But my chest tightened anyway.

________

The sound of footsteps broke my spiral. I turned, half-expecting someone to tell me to stop brooding on the balcony like a tragic heroine. Instead, it was him.

Azriel.

His presence hit me like a sudden gust of wind. Quiet and powerful, pulling me out of my head and back into the moment. He looked... tired. Not the kind of tired that sleep could fix, but the kind that came from sorting through tangled emotions.

He stopped a few steps away, his shadows curling lightly around him, like they were hesitant to intrude.

For a second, neither of us said anything.

Then, he spoke, his voice soft but steady. "It's done."

I blinked, my mind struggling to catch up. "What's done?"

"Elain," he said, his gaze meeting mine. There was a weight in his hazel eyes, a depth that made my heart clench. "I told her everything."

I swallowed, unsure what to say.

Azriel stepped closer, the shadows retreating as if to give us space. "I cared for her," he admitted, his voice laced with honesty. "I thought... maybe I could have something with her. But I was wrong."

My breath caught in my throat.

"She deserved to hear that from me," he continued, his expression softening. "She deserved closure. And so did I."

I nodded, my throat too tight to form words.

He took another step, closing the distance between us. His hand reached out, hesitant but deliberate, until his fingers brushed mine. The touch was light, almost fleeting, but it sent a warmth through me that chased away every doubt, every lingering shadow.

"I told her the truth," Azriel said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "About how I feel. About you."

My heart stuttered. "What... what did you say?"

He smiled, small and self-deprecating, like he still wasn't sure he deserved this—deserved me. "That you're my mate. That my heart... my soul... belongs to you."

My eyes burned, and I blinked quickly, not wanting to cry. Not now, not when he was looking at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"And Elain?" I asked, my voice barely audible.

"She understood," he said, surprising me. "She's stronger than people give her credit for. And she... she wants me to be happy."

"And are you?"

The question hung in the air between us, heavy and fragile.

Azriel's lips curved into a smile, soft and genuine. "I'm getting there."

Something in me eased, a knot I hadn't realized I'd been carrying loosening at last.

He stepped closer still, his other hand lifting to cup my cheek. His thumb brushed against my skin, and the tenderness in his touch made my chest ache.

"I choose you," he said, his voice steady and sure. "Every time. No matter what."

The tears I'd been holding back slipped free, but I didn't care. I leaned into his touch, into him, letting his warmth and his words wrap around me like a shield.

"I choose you too," I whispered.

Azriel leaned down, his forehead pressing gently against mine. For a moment, we just stood there, breathing each other in, the world fading away until it was just us.

And when his lips found mine, it wasn't rushed or frantic. It was soft, patient—like a promise.

Like home.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The forest at night was more than shadows. It was a living thing—a breathing, quiet expanse where the world slowed down and the silence felt sacred.

I let her pull me deeper into its heart, her hand warm in mine. The trees arched overhead like watchful sentinels, and the moonlight spilled through the gaps in silvery beams that kissed her hair. She glanced back at me, her lips quirking in a half-smile that was entirely too smug, as though she knew the effect she had on me.

Of course, she did.

Smart, infuriating female.

We found a clearing where the stars hung low, their light so bright it could've been dawn. She sighed, the sound soft and content, as she lowered herself onto the grass. I followed, settling beside her, though the space between us felt like a deliberate choice. She had a talent for that—keeping me on edge without lifting a finger.

For a while, neither of us said anything.

Her head tilted back, her gaze tracing constellations I didn't bother trying to name. It wasn't the stars I was interested in. Not when the way her lips curved, the way her lashes fluttered when she blinked, demanded every ounce of my attention.

"You're staring," she said, not looking at me.

"Am I?"

"Like I'm your next mission."

The corner of my mouth twitched. "You'd make a terrible spy."

Her laugh was warm, rippling through the cool night air. I wanted to keep that sound, hold it close for the nights when my shadows were too loud.

And yet, the sight of her—the way the moonlight illuminated her skin, the way her hair fanned out like a silken veil—stirred something deeper. Something primal.

"You're quiet," she murmured, finally turning her head to meet my gaze.

"Because I'm thinking."

"About?"

I didn't answer. Instead, I reached out, my fingers brushing the edge of her sleeve before settling on her wrist. She froze, her breath hitching, but she didn't pull away. Slowly, carefully, I pushed her sleeve up, revealing the delicate patterns that had marked her skin since the moment the bond snapped into place.

The glow was faint, but unmistakable.

My thumb traced the lines, following their intricate paths as though trying to decipher their meaning. They pulsed faintly under my touch, as though responding to me, and I could feel her pulse quicken beneath my fingers.

She swallowed hard. "Azriel..."

"Shh."

Because what else was there to say?

I let my touch linger, marveling at the way the patterns seemed to shift, to come alive under my hands. They were beautiful, yes, but they were also a claim—a reminder that she was mine in every way that mattered.

"You're mine," I whispered, the words barely audible over the rustle of the wind.

She didn't reply immediately. Instead, she watched me, her expression unreadable, though her eyes burned with something I couldn't name.

Finally, she spoke, her voice soft but steady. "And you're mine."

My shadows stirred at her words, a quiet hum of approval that mirrored the pounding of my heart.

I leaned closer, closing the gap between us until our foreheads touched. The scent of her—wildflowers and something uniquely hers—was enough to ground me, to remind me why this moment mattered.

"I'll never stop choosing you," I murmured.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and when she exhaled, it was like the weight she'd been carrying lifted.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, the stars bearing witness to a promise neither of us had to say out loud.

Taglist:-

@donnadiddadog

@onebadassunicorn-blog

@wintersquirrel

@rcarbo1

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.13k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Chapter 8: The Storm Within

Isla's POV

The storm began quietly, like most do—not in the sky, but in the depths of my chest, a swirling, tightening feeling that made it hard to breathe. I didn't need to look out at the darkening skies of Velaris to know something was brewing. I felt it in the air, heavy and charged with unspoken tension.

I found myself in the great hall of the House of Wind, my fingers brushing along the edge of the bannister as I peered out into the distance. The rain hadn't started yet, but the wind whispered its warning through the mountains, teasing strands of my hair loose from my braid.

Azriel was somewhere in the house, though I didn't know exactly where. I hadn't seen him all day, but I knew he was near. I could always tell when he was close—the shadows always gave him away.

I sighed, leaning against the cool stone railing. Ever since our last conversation, things had shifted between us, though not in the way I'd hoped. He'd opened up just enough to let me glimpse the storm within him, but then he'd retreated, more distant than ever. Yet his shadows still lingered around me, a silent contradiction to the walls he tried to rebuild.

"Lost in thought again?" Mor's voice pulled me from my reverie.

I turned to find her standing a few feet away, a knowing smile on her lips. She always seemed to know when something was weighing on me, and tonight was no exception.

"Something like that," I admitted, forcing a small smile.

She joined me at the railing, her gaze sweeping over the city below. "You know, Velaris has seen its share of storms. They come and go, but the city always endures." She shot me a sideways glance. "People are the same. We endure, even when the storms feel like they'll tear us apart."

I didn't respond right away, but her words settled in my chest, resonating with the storm I felt brewing inside me. Before I could say anything, though, the sound of raised voices drifted up from the lower floors.

I tensed, recognizing one of the voices immediately. Rhysand.

And the other... Azriel.

Mor's expression darkened. "Stay here," she said firmly, but I was already moving.

Ignoring her protests, I made my way down the winding staircase, my heart pounding with every step. The tension in the air thickened with each passing second, and by the time I reached the main hall, it felt almost suffocating.

Rhysand stood at the centre of the room, his usual calm demeanour replaced by something sharper, more commanding. Azriel stood across from him, his shadows coiling tightly around him like a living barrier.

"You can't keep doing this, Azriel," Rhys said, his voice low but laced with authority. "You're not just hurting yourself—you're hurting her."

Her. I knew he meant me, and the realization made my breath hitch.

Azriel didn't respond right away, but I saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. His shadows flickered wildly, betraying the storm within him.

"You think I don't know that?" he finally said, his voice rough, strained. "You think I don't feel it every time I see her?"

Rhysand's expression softened, but only slightly. "Then stop running from it. Stop hiding behind what you think you should feel and face what's right in front of you."

I wanted to step forward, to say something, but I was rooted in place, torn between wanting to comfort Azriel and respecting the space he so desperately clung to.

"She deserves more than what I can give her," Azriel said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm... I'm not whole, Rhys. I never have been."

Rhysand's gaze softened further, a rare glimpse of vulnerability in the High Lord. "None of us are whole, Az. We all carry our scars. But that doesn't mean we don't deserve happiness. It doesn't mean we don't deserve love."

For a moment, there was only silence, the weight of Rhysand's words hanging in the air like the calm before the storm.

Azriel didn't say anything, but I saw the way his shadows stilled as if absorbing every word. And then, without another word, he turned and walked away, his shadows trailing behind him like a cloak.

I stood frozen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Part of me wanted to chase after him, to demand that he stop running. But another part of me knew that this was something he had to face on his own.

"He cares about you, Isla," Rhysand said gently, drawing my attention back to him. "More than he's willing to admit. Give him time."

I nodded slowly, though it did little to ease the ache in my chest.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Later that night, I found myself standing outside Azriel's door, hesitating. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I knew I couldn't leave things as they were. I raised my hand to knock, but before I could, the door opened, and I found myself face-to-face with him.

His expression was guarded, but there was something in his eyes—something raw, unspoken.

"Can we talk?" I asked softly.

He stepped aside, letting me in without a word. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the small fire crackling in the hearth. His shadows lingered in the corners, but they didn't seem as restless as before.

"I heard what you said to Rhys," I began, turning to face him. "And I get it. You're scared. But so am I, Azriel. I'm scared of being in a world where I don't belong. I'm scared of these powers I don't understand. But more than that, I'm scared of losing you before I ever really had you."

He didn't respond right away, but I saw the way his shadows moved, reaching out toward me like they always did. It was as if they couldn't help themselves, drawn to me in a way that mirrored the connection I felt with him.

"I don't know how to do this," he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know how to be what you need."

"You don't have to be perfect, Azriel," I said, taking a step closer. "I'm not asking you to be. I just want you to let me in. To stop pushing me away."

For a moment, he didn't say anything. But then he closed the distance between us, his shadows wrapping around us both like a protective cocoon.

"I'll try," he said softly, his voice trembling with emotion. "I don't know if I can give you everything you deserve, but I'll try."

And as his shadows enveloped me, I felt something shift—a glimpse of truth, a promise of something more.

The storm within us hadn't passed, but for the first time, it felt like we were facing it together. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

Taglist:- @donnadiddadog@onebadassunicorn-blog@wintersquirrel@rcarbo1

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.2k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Chapter 7: A Glimpse of Truth

Isla's POV

The night air was cool against my skin as I stood on the balcony, arms crossed over my chest. Velaris stretched out before me, glittering like a sky turned upside down. The view, breathtaking as ever, offered little comfort tonight. My mind was a tangled mess of questions and doubts, most of them circling back to Azriel.

Azriel.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop thinking about him. Every interaction left me feeling more confused, more drawn to him despite the walls he constantly erected between us. And his shadows—they were always there, lingering around me like a silent promise, even when he wasn't.

I turned, my gaze falling on the shadows curling near my feet. They danced slowly, as though sensing my turmoil. They weren't threatening or cold. No, they felt... familiar. Safe.

"Why do you always follow me?" I whispered, half to myself, half to the shadows.

They didn't respond, of course. They never did in words. But the way they shifted, brushing gently against my wrist, felt like an answer. They were there because they chose to be. Because they wanted to.

A soft rustle of wings broke the quiet, and I didn't have to turn around to know who it was. Azriel had a way of entering spaces without making a sound, but I always knew when he was near.

I kept my eyes on the city below. "You don't have to keep doing this."

"I wasn't planning to." His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it as if he was tired of having this conversation.

I turned to face him, unable to stop myself. He stood a few feet away, his shadows swirling restlessly around him as if they couldn't decide whether to stay with him or come to me. I'd never seen them behave this way before—like they were torn between us.

"You always say that," I said, my voice sharper than I intended. "You always act like it's something you can't help. But if that's true, then tell me—why are your shadows always with me? Why do they act differently around me than they do with anyone else?"

He flinched, just slightly, but enough for me to notice. For once, he didn't have a ready answer.

"I don't know," he said after a long pause. "I've never seen them behave this way either."

I stepped closer, my heart pounding. "They're a part of you, Azriel. They don't do anything without reason. So what reason do they have for being with me?"

His gaze met mine, dark and unreadable. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. But then he spoke, his voice quieter than before, as if admitting it was painful.

"They reflect my emotions," he said. "My shadows—they react to what I feel. They always have."

His words hung in the air between us, heavy and charged with meaning. I swallowed hard, trying to process what he was telling me. His shadows reacted to his emotions. Which meant...

"They come to me because of how you feel about me," I said aloud, needing to hear the words, to make sure I wasn't imagining things.

Azriel's jaw tightened. "It's not that simple, Isla."

"Why not?" I demanded. "You care about me. You don't have to say it—I can feel it. Your shadows make it clear enough. So why do you keep pushing me away?"

"Because it doesn't matter," he said, his voice rough with something I couldn't quite name. "I can't... I can't give you what you want, what you deserve. It's Elain—"

"Elain," I cut in, bitterness creeping into my tone. "You keep using her as an excuse. You say she's something special to you, but she's with Lucien. She made her choice, Azriel. Why can't you make yours?"

He looked away, his shadows flickering uneasily. "You don't understand."

"No, I don't," I said, my voice trembling. "I don't understand how you can feel something for me, how your shadows can be drawn to me, and yet you still act like I'm nothing more than a replacement for someone you can't have."

That got his attention. His gaze snapped back to mine, and for a moment, I saw something raw in his eyes—something that made my chest ache.

"You're not a replacement," he said, his voice low and fierce. "Don't ever think that."

"Then what am I?" I whispered, hating how vulnerable I sounded. "Because right now, I feel like I'm stuck in this limbo where you want me close, but not too close. Where your shadows comfort me, but you won't."

He didn't answer.

The silence stretched between us, too loud, too painful. I shook my head, stepping back.

"I can't do this, Azriel. I can't keep waiting for you to figure out what you want. I deserve more than that."

His shadows flickered around me, hesitant, as if they didn't want me to leave. But I ignored them, turning away before he could see the tears gathering in my eyes.

I left the balcony without another word, my heart aching in a way I hadn't expected. I didn't know what hurt more—his reluctance to let me in, or the fact that his shadows still followed me, even when he didn't.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I spent the next few days avoiding him. It wasn't hard—Azriel was a master at keeping to himself, and I knew how to disappear when I wanted to. But no matter where I went, his shadows were always there, a constant reminder of what I was trying to forget.

It should have been comforting. Instead, it only made the ache worse.

"Isla, are you all right?" Mor asked one afternoon as we sat in the sitting room.

I forced a smile. "I'm fine."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't press the issue. Still, I could feel her watching me, as if she knew exactly what—or rather, who—was bothering me.

Later that night, when I found myself once again standing on the balcony, I wondered if I'd ever truly be able to move on. If Azriel's shadows would ever stop haunting me.

"I told them to stay away."

The voice startled me, but I didn't turn around. I knew who it was.

"They don't seem to listen to you," I said quietly.

Azriel stepped beside me, his expression unreadable as he looked out over the city. "They don't. Not when it comes to you."

I bit my lip, fighting the urge to ask what that meant. I didn't want to have this conversation again, didn't want to open old wounds that hadn't even begun to heal.

"I'm sorry," he said after a long moment.

I glanced at him, surprised. "For what?"

"For hurting you. For making you feel like you weren't enough."

His words were quiet, but they cut through me like a blade. I looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"I don't know what this is," he continued. "I don't know what it means, or why it's happening. But I know one thing—I care about you, Isla. More than I should."

I turned back to him, my heart pounding. "Then why do you keep pushing me away?"

"Because I'm afraid," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Afraid of what it means. Afraid of what I'll lose if I let myself care too much."

I didn't know what to say to that. So instead, I took a step closer, reaching out to brush my fingers against the shadows still lingering between us.

"You don't have to be afraid," I said softly. "You don't have to do this alone."

For a moment, I thought he might pull away again. But then his shadows wrapped around my hand, warm and familiar, and I knew that maybe—just maybe—there was hope for us after all.

Taglist:- @donnadiddadog@onebadassunicorn-blog@wintersquirrel@rcarbo1

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.1k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

Chapter 6: Tangled Threads

Isla's POV

The first time Azriel's shadows saved me, I thought it was a coincidence.

I was wandering the streets of Velaris late at night, lost in my thoughts. My powers—whatever they truly were—had been acting up again. Unpredictable and dangerous, they stirred inside me like a storm, refusing to be tamed. It was becoming harder to control them, harder to stay grounded.

I should have stayed inside, but the walls of the townhouse felt too close, too stifling. So, I walked. The quiet streets and cool night air offered some relief, even if my thoughts didn't.

I turned down a dimly lit alleyway, taking a long way back to clear my head. But halfway through, something felt off. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, a warning that I wasn't alone.

I heard footsteps behind me—heavy, deliberate. I quickened my pace, trying not to panic. The footsteps matched my speed, closing the distance. My heart pounded in my chest, and just as I was about to break into a run, they appeared.

Azriel's shadows.

They curled around me like a protective cocoon, whispering in that strange, soothing way they always did. I felt their warmth, their reassurance, and suddenly, the fear that had gripped me loosened its hold.

The footsteps behind me halted. I dared a glance over my shoulder to find nothing but darkness. Whoever—or whatever—had been following me was gone.

I exhaled a shaky breath, resting a hand against the wall to steady myself. The shadows lingered for a moment longer before retreating, as if waiting to be sure I was safe.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

After that night, I began paying more attention.

It wasn't just in moments of danger. The shadows were there when I struggled to make decisions, when I felt overwhelmed by the weight of this strange, immortal world I had somehow become part of. They were subtle, but always present, guiding me in ways I couldn't quite understand.

At first, I thought it was just their nature—a reflexive response to emotions or danger. But the more it happened, the more I realized it was something more.

They didn't react to anyone else this way. Only me.

And despite Azriel's distance, despite the tension that hung between us like a storm waiting to break, he allowed it.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One morning, I found myself in the training yard again. Cassian had been attempting to teach me how to fight, though I suspected it was more to keep me distracted than anything else.

"Focus, Isla," Cassian said, circling me. "If you keep drifting off, you'll be flat on your back before you know it."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm trying."

He smirked, lunging toward me with his wooden practice sword. I barely had time to react, stepping back just in time to avoid getting knocked over.

"Better," he said, lowering his weapon. "But not good enough."

I was about to snap back when Azriel appeared at the edge of the yard, his expression unreadable as always. Cassian noticed him too, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing.

Azriel's gaze flicked to me, then to the shadows curling around my feet. I hadn't even realized they were there.

"Again," Cassian said, drawing my attention back to him.

We went through the motions a few more times, but I couldn't focus. Not with Azriel standing there, watching. His presence was a distraction in the worst way, making my pulse race for reasons I didn't want to acknowledge.

Eventually, Cassian called it a day, clapping me on the shoulder. "Not bad. You're improving."

"Thanks," I muttered, wiping sweat from my brow.

Cassian walked off, leaving me alone with Azriel. He didn't move, didn't speak, but his shadows drifted closer, brushing against my ankle like a question.

"Are you going to say something, or just stare at me all day?" I asked, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

Azriel's lips twitched, almost like he wanted to smile but didn't quite know how. "You're getting better."

"High praise from the spymaster," I said dryly, though my heart skipped a beat at his words.

He stepped closer, his shadows trailing behind him like a second skin. "You need to trust your instincts more. You hesitate too much."

I crossed my arms. "Maybe because I don't have centuries of experience like you do."

Azriel's gaze softened, just a fraction. "Your instincts are better than you think. You just need to stop doubting yourself."

His words lingered in the air between us, heavier than they should have been. There was something in his voice—something unspoken, like so many other things between us.

"I'll keep that in mind," I said quietly.

He nodded once, then turned to leave. But before he did, his shadows brushed against my arm, a silent farewell.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That night, I couldn't sleep again. The conversation with Azriel played over and over in my mind, along with the countless other moments we'd shared—moments where his shadows had comforted me in ways he never could.

I didn't understand what was happening between us, but I knew one thing: it wasn't something either of us could ignore forever.

The bond growing between us, whatever it was, felt like tangled threads—impossible to unravel, impossible to break. And despite the fear it stirred in both of us, it was there, undeniable and real.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A few days later, I found myself on the balcony overlooking the city. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the rooftops.

I heard the soft rustle of wings before I saw him. Azriel landed beside me, silent as always. He didn't speak, didn't look at me, but his presence was enough.

For a while, we stood there in silence, watching the city come alive as night fell. His shadows drifted closer, wrapping around me like a blanket.

"You don't have to do this, you know," I said eventually. "You don't have to keep protecting me."

His gaze flicked to me, something unreadable in his eyes. "It's not something I can control."

The honesty in his voice took me by surprise. I opened my mouth to respond, but he continued before I could.

"My shadows... they have a mind of their own, to some extent. But with you, it's different. They act without me telling them to."

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling over me. "Why?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "But it scares me."

I looked at him then, really looked at him. The shadows that surrounded him weren't just a part of his power—they were a part of him, a reflection of his heart. And for some reason, they had chosen me.

"It doesn't have to," I said softly.

He didn't respond, but his shadows tightened around me as if offering their silent reassurance.

And in that moment, I realized something.

Whatever this was—this connection, this bond—it was real. Tangled and messy, yes, but real.

And maybe, just maybe, it was something worth holding on to.

Taglist:- @donnadiddadog@onebadassunicorn-blog@wintersquirrel@rcarbo1

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.2k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Chapter 5: Unspoken Words

Isla's POV

The days blurred together, each one more tangled than the last. The weight of unspoken things pressed against me, a silent reminder of the tension that had taken root between Azriel and me.

He avoided me now, or at least tried to. His presence was still a constant shadow in my life—both literally and figuratively. Even when I didn’t see him, I felt him. His shadows brushed against me in moments of quiet, soft and fleeting like they were checking in on me.

It should have made me feel uneasy, but it didn’t.

Instead, it felt like we were speaking a language that only we could understand. A language that Azriel himself didn’t seem to know how to handle.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One evening, I found myself sitting by the Sidra, watching the water shimmer under the moonlight. The city was quiet, the kind of peaceful that only came when most of its inhabitants had retired for the night.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t notice him approach me until his shadows brushed against my arm.

I looked up, my heart skipping a beat when I saw him standing there, his wings partially furled, his face unreadable in the dim light.

“Isla,” he said, his voice low and rough.

I nodded in acknowledgement, unsure of what to say.

For a moment, he simply stood there, as though debating whether to join me. Then, finally, he sat down, leaving a careful distance between us. His shadows, however, had no such reservations. They curled around me, brushing against my skin like they were saying hello.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” I said softly, breaking the silence.

Azriel didn’t respond right away. He stared out at the water, his jaw tight. “I thought it would be better that way.”

“Better for who?”

“For both of us.”

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping me. “Do you believe that?”

He turned to look at me then, his hazel eyes burning with something I couldn’t quite name. “You don’t understand what you’re asking of me.”

“Then explain it to me,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “Help me understand why you’re so determined to push me away.”

His wings shifted, the movement agitated. “It’s not that simple.”

“Why not?” I pressed.

“Because I’m not free to feel this way,” he said, his voice breaking on the last word.

The rawness of his confession hit me like a physical blow. I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off.

“I have a bond,” he said, his gaze dropping to the ground. “A bond that ties me to someone else. Someone who doesn’t… who can’t love me back.”

“Elain,” I whispered, the name heavy on my tongue.

He nodded, his shadows retreating slightly as though they, too, felt the weight of his words.

“But she’s not with you,” I said carefully. “She’s with Lucien.”

“That doesn’t change the bond,” he said, his voice filled with self-loathing. “It doesn’t change the fact that I’m supposed to love her.”

Three Sisters For Three Brother

“Supposed to,” I echoed, my heart aching for him. “But do you?”

His silence was answer enough.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The days after that conversation were quieter. Azriel and I kept our distance, but his shadows were still there, ever-present and watchful.

I found myself studying them more, trying to decipher the way they moved, and the way they seemed to react to my emotions. They weren’t just an extension of Azriel’s power—they were a part of him, a reflection of his innermost self.

And they were telling me a story that he couldn’t.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

We crossed paths again a few nights later, this time in the library. I had come to lose myself in the comfort of books, hoping to quiet the storm of thoughts in my mind. But the moment I saw him sitting there, his wings tucked close to his body, I knew it wouldn’t be a peaceful night.

“Isla,” he said, his voice soft but strained.

“Azriel.” I hesitated, then sat down across from him.

For a while, neither of us spoke. The silence between us was heavy but not uncomfortable.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said,” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up, his hazel eyes meeting mine. “And?”

“And I think you’re lying to yourself.”

His wings twitched, but he didn’t respond.

“You say you’re supposed to love Elain,” I continued, “but your shadows… they tell a different story.”

His gaze sharpened, his shadows curling around him protectively. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” I asked, leaning forward. “They’re always there, Azriel. Always with me. They’re trying to tell me something, even if you won’t.”

For a moment, he simply stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he stood, his shadows flickering like a storm around him.

“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice raw. “I can’t be what you need.”

“Who said I need you to be anything?” I shot back, standing as well. “I’m not asking for your love, Azriel. I’m asking for your honesty.”

He turned away, his wings flaring slightly. “I can’t give you that either.”

And then he was gone, leaving me alone with the shadows he’d left behind.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That night, I couldn’t sleep. The conversation replayed in my mind over and over again, each word cutting deeper than the last.

I didn’t understand why he was so determined to push me away, why he couldn’t see what was right in front of him. But I did understand one thing: his shadows didn’t lie.

They were his heart, his truth, even if he couldn’t admit it.

And they were reaching for me.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The next morning, I found Azriel in the training yard again. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I marched straight up to him, ignoring the wary look he gave me.

“We need to talk,” I said firmly.

He sighed, sheathing his blade. “Isla—”

“No,” I interrupted. “You don’t get to walk away from this. Not this time.”

His wings tensed, but he didn’t argue.

“I don’t care about the bond,” I said, my voice trembling. “I don’t care about what you think you’re supposed to feel. All I care about is what’s real. What’s here, between us.”

His shadows stirred, reaching for me even as he tried to hold them back.

“You’re afraid,” I said, stepping closer. “Afraid of what this means. But you don’t have to be.”

For a moment, he simply stared at me, his hazel eyes filled with so much emotion that it took my breath away. Then, slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against mine.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

“Then we’ll figure it out together,” I said, lacing my fingers with his.

His shadows wrapped around us then, a silent promise that we weren’t alone.

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I belonged.

Taglist:- @donnadiddadog @onebadassunicorn-blog @wintersquirrel @rcarbo1

[azrielmasterlist]

Petals & Shadows

Storyline:- Where after his near kiss with elain, he's left confused and lonely, taking a new mission from rhysand he left for some lone time to wander around when he met Her. A Garden Fairy. So beautiful and god he was hooked the moment his eyes fell on her.

Azriel x Garden Fairy

Words:- 2.3k

Warning:- Fluff

Azriel’s mind was a mess, swirling with thoughts he didn’t want to linger on. The near kiss with Elain haunted him, her delicate scent still clinging to his senses. He had thought for a fleeting moment that maybe—just maybe—he could be happy. But happiness was an illusion, wasn’t it? One he had never been destined to grasp.

Rhysand had given him a mission shortly after, sensing Azriel’s need to get away. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t prod. He only gave him space, which Azriel desperately needed. So he left Velaris behind, flying over endless forests and valleys, hoping the open sky and cold wind would clear his mind.

Yet nothing seemed to help.

He touched down in a meadow, his shadows curling around him protectively. The place was vibrant, teeming with wildflowers in every colour imaginable, and the air smelled fresh, earthy, and rich. It should’ve calmed him, but even here, he felt restless, a storm churning beneath his calm exterior.

That’s when he heard her laugh.

Azriel’s head snapped in the direction of the sound. It was light, musical, and utterly captivating. His shadows swirled toward it, eager to explore, but he didn’t need them to tell him where she was. He could see her.

She was standing in a small patch of greenery, her hands on her hips as she glared at a puddle of mud. Her friends, other garden fairies judging by their leafy attire and small, translucent wings, were giggling beside her.

“Yeah, no, I don’t like mud,” she said, wrinkling her nose adorably.

One of her friends tilted her head, clearly amused. “But you’re a garden fairy,” she pointed out as if that explained everything.

The fairy rolled her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms. “Ironic, isn’t it? Such a drama queen,” she added with a huff, earning more laughter from her friends.

Azriel found himself smiling before he could stop himself. There was something about her that drew him in, something light and warm that made the cold shadows within him retreat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way.

Her friends egged her on-again, gesturing toward the other side of the puddle. “Just jump.”

The garden fairy groaned, stomping her foot. “Okay, alright. I’m coming,” she said with exaggerated frustration before leaping over the mud in an awkward yet endearing manner.

Azriel’s shadows stirred around him, curious in this strange, captivating creature. He found himself stepping closer, careful to keep his footsteps silent, not wanting to disturb the moment.

But she noticed him anyway.

Her head turned toward him, and their eyes met. Azriel froze.

She was breathtaking.

Her skin seemed to glow under the sunlight, and her hair was a cascade of soft curls that shimmered like spun gold. But it was her eyes that held him captive—bright, sparkling, and filled with a mischievous warmth that made something stir in his chest.

“Oh, hello,” she said, tilting her head in curiosity. Her friends glanced at him, wary, but the garden fairy herself didn’t seem the least bit afraid. Instead, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them slightly. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Azriel cleared his throat, trying to gather his composure. “No. I was… just passing through.”

Her lips curved into a teasing smile. “Well, you don’t look like the passing-through type.”

His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

She shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “You look more like the brooding-in-the-shadows type. Very mysterious.”

Azriel blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her boldness. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused.

“I’m Azriel,” he said, deciding to ignore her teasing tone. “And you are?”

“Faye,” she answered with a grin. “Guardian of this little garden paradise.”

“Guardian?” he repeated, arching a brow.

“Well, technically a garden fairy, but guardian sounds cooler, don’t you think?”

Azriel found himself chuckling softly, something he rarely did. “Cooler, yes. Accurate? I’m not so sure.”

Faye placed a hand dramatically over her heart. “You wound me, stranger.” But there was no malice in her words, only humour. “So, Azriel, what brings you here? Besides brooding, of course.”

“I’m on a mission,” he said simply, though even he wasn’t sure what his mission was anymore. He had come here to find peace, but instead, he had found her—and she was anything but peaceful.

Faye studied him for a moment, her gaze sharp despite the lightness of her demeanor. “Well, if you’re going to be hanging around, you might as well help. This garden doesn’t take care of itself, you know.”

Azriel raised a brow. “Help? With what?”

She gestured to the greenery around them. “Watering, planting, weeding… you know, garden stuff.”

He looked down at his dark leathers, clearly not designed for gardening, and then back at her. “I don’t think I’m dressed for it.”

Faye laughed, a sound that made his shadows flicker in response. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you touch any mud. I know how awful it can be,” she said with a wink.

Azriel couldn’t help but smile again. This fairy was unlike anyone he had ever met. Bold, bright, and full of life—a stark contrast to the shadows that clung to him. And yet, he found himself drawn to her as if she was a light he hadn’t realized he needed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Over the next few days, Azriel stayed in the garden, helping Faye with her tasks despite his initial reluctance. They fell into an easy rhythm—she would chatter endlessly about the plants and flowers, and he would listen quietly, occasionally offering a dry comment that made her laugh.

They talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and experiences. Azriel found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t thought possible, and Faye… Faye was simply herself, vibrant and unfiltered.

There were moments of quiet too, where they would sit together, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of gold and crimson. In those moments, Azriel felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time—peace.

And with that peace came something else.

Something deeper.

Something he wasn’t sure he was ready to name.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One afternoon, Azriel found Faye sitting on a rock, her hands covered in dirt as she tended to a patch of flowers. She looked up when she saw him, a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

“Don’t say it,” she warned, pointing a finger at him.

“Say what?” he asked innocently.

“Something about how ironic it is that a garden fairy doesn’t like mud.”

Azriel smirked. “I would never.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not believing a word he said. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re dramatic,” he shot back, his tone light.

Faye laughed, the sound like a balm to his soul. “Touché.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The days passed in a blur of sunlight and laughter, and with every moment Azriel spent with Faye, he found himself growing more attached to her—this bold, vibrant garden fairy who somehow made his shadows feel less heavy.

For as long as he could remember, Azriel’s life had been one of duty, shadows, and unspoken desires. He had never allowed himself to entertain the idea of a different life—a lighter one, full of joy and warmth. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of a blooming garden, watching Faye tease her friends and stomp around with exaggerated drama when forced to touch mud as if it were the bane of her existence.

He knew he should have left by now. His mission was complete—he had investigated the disturbances in the nearby forest, reported back to Rhysand, and confirmed there was no imminent threat. There was no reason for him to stay. And yet…

He stayed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Azriel leaned against the trunk of a towering oak tree, arms crossed over his chest as he observed Faye from a distance. She was busy arranging a cluster of flowers into neat rows, her delicate fingers brushing over the petals with surprising care despite her earlier disdain for all things muddy.

“You’re staring again,” came a light voice from beside him. Azriel glanced to his left to see one of Faye’s friends—a fellow garden fairy with sharp green eyes and a knowing smirk.

“I wasn’t staring,” Azriel replied smoothly, though his shadows betrayed him, swirling restlessly around his shoulders as if they were unsettled by the accusation.

“Sure, you weren’t,” the fairy said, her tone teasing. “You know, if you like her, you could just tell her.”

Azriel shot her a warning look. “It’s not that simple.”

The fairy raised a brow. “Why not? You’re here, she’s here. You enjoy each other’s company.” She paused, her expression softening. “Faye may seem like she’s always full of light and laughter, but she doesn’t let people in easily. If she’s let you stay this long, it means something.”

Azriel’s gaze shifted back to Faye, who was now attempting to balance a watering can on her head, much to the amusement of the other fairies. Her laughter rang out across the meadow, clear and pure, and something in Azriel’s chest tightened.

Maybe the fairy was right. Maybe it did mean something.

But how could someone like him—who carried so much darkness—ever hope to deserve someone like Faye?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the garden was bathed in a warm golden glow, Faye found Azriel sitting alone on a flat rock by the stream. His shadows danced lazily around him, blending into the growing dusk. He looked so out of place in the peaceful garden, a figure of darkness surrounded by light. And yet, to Faye, he fit perfectly.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, her voice soft.

Azriel glanced up, surprised. “Of course.”

She plopped down beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. For a moment, they sat in silence, listening to the gentle burble of the stream.

“You know,” Faye began, her voice thoughtful, “I’ve been wondering something.”

Azriel tilted his head slightly, waiting for her to continue.

“Why did you stay?” she asked, turning to face him fully. “You finished your mission days ago. Most people would have left by now.”

Azriel hesitated, unsure how to answer. How could he explain that he stayed because of her? Something about her had captivated him in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

“I needed time to think,” he said at last, which wasn’t a lie—it just wasn’t the whole truth.

Faye didn’t press him, but there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, gone so quickly he almost missed it. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you stayed,” she said with a smile. “You’re not half bad to have around.”

Azriel’s lips twitched upward. “High praise coming from someone who called me brooding and mysterious.”

“Hey, I call it like I see it,” Faye said with a playful shrug. Then, after a brief pause, she added, “You know, you don’t always have to be so serious.”

Azriel raised a brow. “I’m not serious all the time.”

“Oh?” Faye challenged a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Prove it.”

Before Azriel could respond, Faye reached over and plucked a small flower from the ground, twirling it between her fingers. “Here. Hold this.”

Azriel took the flower, his large scarred hand dwarfing the delicate bloom. He stared at it, unsure what to do.

“Now,” Faye said, leaning closer, “smile.”

Azriel blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. Smile. Come on, I know you can do it.”

Azriel shook his head, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re avoiding the challenge,” Faye shot back, crossing her arms.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel allowed himself a small smile—just enough to satisfy her demand.

“There it is!” Faye declared triumphantly. “See? Not so serious after all.”

Azriel’s smile widened just a fraction. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re trying to be grumpy,” Faye teased, poking him lightly in the side.

Azriel chuckled softly, a sound that surprised even himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed—truly laughed. But with Faye, it felt natural, like breathing.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As night fell and the stars began to twinkle above, Azriel found himself dreading the moment when he would have to leave. He didn’t want this—didn’t want to say goodbye to Faye and the light she had brought into his life.

But he knew he couldn’t stay forever. His duties in Velaris awaited him, and he had never been one to shirk responsibility.

Still, as he looked at Faye, who was now lying on the grass, pointing out constellations and spinning fanciful tales about them, he felt a longing he couldn’t ignore.

“I have to leave soon,” he said quietly, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

Faye stilled, her hand pausing mid-gesture. Slowly, she sat up, her expression carefully neutral. “I figured as much.”

Azriel looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t,” Faye said simply.

He turned back to her, surprised. “It’s not that simple.”

Faye sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know. I just…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “I like having you here, Azriel. You make this place feel… different. Better.”

Her confession took him by surprise, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. But then, before he could overthink it, he reached out and took her hand in his.

“I feel the same way,” he admitted, his voice low. “You make me feel different. Better.”

Faye’s eyes widened slightly, but then she smiled—a soft, genuine smile that made Azriel’s heartache in the best way.

“Then stay a little longer,” she whispered. “Just a little longer.”

Azriel tightened his grip on her hand, a silent promise. “As long as you’ll have me.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist:-

@donnadiddadog @rcarbo1 @onebadassunicorn-blog @wintersquirrel

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His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.7k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Chapter 4: The Shadow's Embrace

Isla's POV

The weight of Velaris pressed against me, invisible yet suffocating.

It wasn’t the city itself—Velaris was beautiful, a sanctuary carved out of light and dreams. It was the expectations, the constant reminder that I was living in a world far beyond my own. Powers I didn’t understand coursed through me, untamed and unpredictable. Most days, I felt like a child stumbling through the dark, reaching for something solid but finding only shadows.

And yet, it was the shadows that seemed to understand me the most.

Azriel’s shadows had become a constant presence in my life. They moved around me like silent sentinels, their dark tendrils curling in ways that felt almost… affectionate. They offered a solace I didn’t think I deserved, a quiet reminder that I wasn’t as alone as I felt.

But Azriel himself—he was another story.

I found him in the training yard one morning, his back to me as he worked through a series of precise movements with his blades. His wings flared slightly with each strike, the muscles in his back rippling under the soft light of dawn.

For a moment, I simply watched him, my heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with fear.

“Are you going to stand there all morning?” His voice was low, tinged with the faintest hint of amusement.

I flushed, stepping into the open. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Azriel lowered his blades, turning to face me. His expression was unreadable, as always, but his shadows stirred at the edges of his form, shifting like they were pleased to see me.

“You’re up early,” he said, his tone neutral.

I shrugged, wrapping my arms around myself. “Couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary. Then, without a word, he gestured for me to join him.

Training with Azriel was… intense. He didn’t coddle me, didn’t treat me like the fragile mortal everyone else seemed to see. He pushed me, challenging me to face my fears and my limits.

But today, I wasn’t up for it.

Halfway through our session, I dropped to the ground, my chest heaving as I tried to catch my breath. “I can’t,” I said, my voice cracking.

Azriel stood over me, his brow furrowed. “You’re stronger than this, Isla.”

“Am I?” The words came out harsher than I intended, but I didn’t care. “Because I don’t feel strong. I feel lost. Like I don’t belong here. Like I’m drowning.”

For a moment, Azriel said nothing. Then, slowly, he crouched down in front of me, his shadows curling around us like a protective cocoon.

“You’re not drowning,” he said softly. “You’re learning how to swim.”

The words hit me harder than I expected, and before I could stop myself, tears filled my eyes.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered.

Azriel didn’t respond, but his shadows moved closer, brushing against my skin like a gentle caress. I closed my eyes, letting the sensation wash over me. It was like being held, like being wrapped in a warmth I hadn’t realized I needed.

For the first time in weeks, I felt safe.

But when I opened my eyes, Azriel was gone.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That night, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the way his shadows had comforted me, the way they seemed to know exactly what I needed.

It wasn’t just the shadows, though. It was Azriel himself. He was distant, yes, but there was a depth to him that I couldn’t ignore. A quiet strength that drew me in, even when he tried to push me away.

I found him in the library later, sitting alone at a table with a book in his hands. His shadows were restless, shifting and curling around him like they couldn’t decide whether to settle or flee.

“Am I interrupting?” I asked, hesitating at the edge of the room.

Azriel looked up, his expression guarded. “No.”

I took a deep breath, crossing the room to sit across from him. “Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“For what?”

“For earlier,” I said, meeting his gaze. “For being there when I needed someone.”

His jaw tightened, and he looked away. “It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing,” I insisted. “You didn’t have to stay, but you did. And your shadows…” I trailed off, unsure how to put it into words.

Azriel’s gaze snapped back to mine, something flickering in his eyes. “They shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not their place.”

His words stung, but I refused to back down. “Maybe it’s not their place, but they did it anyway. And I’m grateful for it.”

Azriel shook his head, standing abruptly. His shadows swirled around him, agitated. “You don’t understand.”

“Then explain it to me,” I said, standing as well. “Help me understand.”

He turned away, his wings tensing. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you make me feel things I’m not supposed to feel!”

The words burst out of him, raw and unguarded. For a moment, the room was silent, the weight of his confession hanging between us.

“I didn’t ask for this,” he said, his voice quieter now. “I didn’t ask for any of it.”

“Neither did I,” I said softly.

Azriel’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, he looked more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible.

Before I could respond, he was gone, his shadows trailing behind him like a dark tide.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

In the days that followed, I found myself avoiding him, unsure of how to face the emotions his words had stirred within me. But his shadows—they didn’t seem to understand the concept of distance.

They were always there, always reaching for me in moments of quiet. They were my comfort, my solace, even when their master couldn’t be.

Slowly, I began to realize that they weren’t just shadows.

They were Azriel’s heart, laid bare in a way he couldn’t bring himself to show.

I didn’t know what it meant, this connection we shared. But I knew one thing for certain: I wasn’t ready to let it go.

Taglist:-

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[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.3k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Chapter 3: A Mortal's Heart

Isla's POV

I didn't realize how lonely I had been until I started feeling like I wasn't anymore.

The Night Court was not an easy place to belong. Everyone here seemed to have a purpose, a role carved out of fire, magic, and history. They were warriors and dreamers, protectors and rulers, each of them larger than life in ways I could barely fathom. And then there was me—a mortal girl who had stumbled into this world like a leaf blown in by the wind.

Rhysand had a way of making me feel at ease, though. There was a kindness to him, a patience that never felt patronizing. He spoke to me as if I were an equal, even when I doubted I ever could be. Feyre, too, was warm and inviting, her smiles carrying the same quiet strength that seemed to define the Night Court itself.

But Azriel... Azriel was different.

He was always watching me, though he seemed to think I didn't notice. His gaze lingered in ways that made my skin prickle—not out of discomfort, but out of something I couldn't quite name. It wasn't just the way he looked at me, though. It was the way he didn't look at me, too. The way his attention would flicker away, as though he were fighting something within himself.

I could see his pain, even if he tried to hide it. It was in the tension of his shoulders, the careful way he moved, as though he were always ready for a battle that might never come. It was in his silence, in the way his shadows curled around him like armor.

But those same shadows—they didn't act that way around me.

They moved differently when I was near. Softer, gentler, like they were reaching for me, offering something unspoken that I didn't fully understand. At first, I thought I was imagining it, that I was seeing things that weren't there. But the more time I spent in Velaris, the more certain I became.

It wasn't just the shadows. It was Azriel, too.

I didn't know what it meant, but I couldn't ignore the way he seemed to be drawn to me, even as he tried to keep his distance.

One evening, after dinner with the inner circle, I found myself wandering through the halls of the House of Wind. It was quiet, the kind of silence that felt alive, as though the walls themselves were listening.

I didn't realize where my feet were taking me until I stepped out onto a balcony overlooking the city. The view was breathtaking, the lights of Velaris shimmering like a sea of stars. But I wasn't alone.

Azriel was there, standing at the edge of the balcony with his back to me. His wings were partially unfurled, the faint moonlight catching on the dark, leathery expanse.

I hesitated, unsure if I should interrupt. But his shadows shifted, curling around him before stretching out toward me, as if they were inviting me closer.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked softly, stepping up beside him.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Something like that."

The silence between us was heavy but not uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that felt like a conversation in its own right.

"You're always watching," I said after a moment, my voice barely above a whisper.

Azriel's gaze flicked to mine, sharp and searching. "And you're always noticing."

There was something in his tone—an edge of curiosity, maybe even amusement.

"I can't help it," I admitted. "You're... not easy to ignore."

He let out a soft, almost bitter laugh. "That's not usually a good thing."

I turned to face him fully, my heart pounding in my chest. "It's not a bad thing, either."

Azriel didn't respond right away. His shadows shifted around him, curling and uncurling like restless creatures.

"You don't belong here," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "This world—it's not meant for mortals."

The words stung, but not because they weren't true. They were. I knew that. But hearing him say it—it felt like a rejection, even if I knew he didn't mean it that way.

"I know," I said, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. "But I'm here anyway."

Azriel's gaze softened slightly, and for a moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his eyes—something raw and unguarded.

"You're stronger than you realize," he said quietly. "Stronger than most of us."

The words caught me off guard, and I didn't know how to respond.

Before I could say anything, his shadows moved again, brushing against my arm like a gentle caress. The sensation was strange but comforting, like a warmth I hadn't realized I was missing.

"Do they always do that?" I asked, nodding toward the shadows.

Azriel's lips curved into the faintest of smiles. "Not usually."

I didn't know what that meant, but I didn't press him. Instead, I let the silence settle between us again, the weight of the moment sinking into my bones.

As the days turned into weeks, I found myself spending more time with the inner circle. They were kind to me, in their own ways, and I began to feel less like an outsider and more like... something else. Not quite one of them, but not entirely separate, either.

And Azriel—he was always there, hovering at the edges of my awareness. He didn't speak much, but his presence was impossible to ignore.

It was in the quiet moments, though, that I felt closest to him. The moments when his shadows would reach for me, offering a silent kind of comfort that I couldn't put into words.

I didn't know what it meant, this bond that seemed to be forming between us. But I knew it was real, even if neither of us fully understood it yet.

One night, as I lay awake in my room, staring up at the ceiling, I couldn't stop thinking about him. About the way his shadows moved around me, the way his gaze lingered just a little too long.

I didn't know what to do with these feelings, these thoughts that seemed to consume me. But I knew one thing for certain: Azriel was more than just the sum of his pain and his shadows.

And maybe, just maybe, I was more than just a mortal girl trying to find her place in a world of immortals.

Maybe we were both something more.

Taglist:-

@donnadiddadog

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.15k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 1

Chapter 2: The Haunting Past

Isla's POV

I was still learning how to navigate the quiet corners of Velaris. They felt both beautiful and unnerving, like living inside a painting that could come alive at any moment. The Night Court was steeped in an elegance that seemed almost otherworldly, yet its people were undeniably vibrant, alive with a spirit I found both comforting and overwhelming.

I didn't know how to place myself in this world of power and magic. I felt more like an intruder than a guest. A mortal—a temporary flicker of existence—among beings who had centuries carved into their souls.

Azriel, however, was a puzzle all his own.

He was distant, a ghost that hovered at the edges of every room, every conversation. And yet, when his shadows moved, it was like they betrayed the parts of him he tried so hard to keep hidden. Those shadows weren't silent. They whispered, they reached, and sometimes... they found me.

I caught glimpses of him in those quiet moments when his focus faltered, and something more human slipped through his carefully crafted mask. That morning, as I stood on the balcony overlooking Velaris's sprawling, shimmering streets, I thought about those moments. About him.

The door creaked softly behind me, and I turned, expecting to see Feyre or perhaps one of the others. But it was Azriel.

His presence felt heavier than the others. He didn't speak right away, and the silence stretched between us like a thin thread, taut and fragile.

"Good morning," I said cautiously, unsure of how to fill the space.

He gave a small nod, his wings rustling faintly as he stepped closer to the edge of the balcony. His gaze flicked over the city below, but his attention wasn't on the view. He seemed... preoccupied, his brows furrowed as if lost in a memory.

I wanted to ask what he was thinking, but I didn't dare. Instead, I waited, letting the silence settle again.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and rough. "Do you ever think about what you've left behind?"

The question caught me off guard. I turned to face him, unsure of what to say. "All the time," I admitted. "I don't think it ever leaves me. My life before this—before here—it feels like another world entirely. Like I'm not the same person I was."

Azriel's gaze shifted to me, his hazel eyes sharp and searching. "And does it make you want to go back?"

It was a complicated question, one I hadn't fully allowed myself to answer. "Sometimes," I said honestly. "But... even if I did, I'm not sure I'd fit there anymore. Not after this."

He nodded slowly as if he understood. His wings stretched slightly before settling again, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say more.

"Do you?" I asked carefully, my voice barely above a whisper. "Think about what you've left behind?"

A shadow passed over his face, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer. But then, quietly, he said, "It's not what I've left behind that haunts me. It's what I've lost."

There was a weight to his words that made my chest ache. I didn't know the details of Azriel's past, but I knew enough to understand that it was filled with pain, with scars that ran deeper than anything I could comprehend.

I wanted to reach out to him, to say something that might ease the burden he carried, but I wasn't sure if he'd let me. Instead, I stayed quiet, hoping my presence would be enough.

His shadows moved then, curling around his feet like restless tendrils of smoke. They shifted subtly, almost imperceptibly, and I felt that strange pull again—the way they seemed to acknowledge me, to reach for me.

"Your shadows," I murmured before I could stop myself. "They're always... moving. Always watching."

Azriel's gaze snapped to mine, sharp and wary. "They have a will of their own," he said simply, but there was something in his tone that made me think he didn't entirely believe his own words.

"They comfort me," I admitted, my cheeks flushing slightly as I spoke. "When I feel... out of place. Like I don't belong here."

For a moment, he looked genuinely surprised. His shadows stilled as if they were listening to me, and I wondered if he felt what I did—the warmth they carried, the strange sense of solace they offered.

"I didn't realise they could do that," he said, his voice softer now, almost hesitant.

"Maybe it's not them," I said quietly, my gaze dropping to the floor. "Maybe it's you."

The words hung in the air between us, and I instantly regretted saying them. But when I glanced up, I saw something shift in his expression.

"It's not me," he said, but his voice lacked its usual certainty. "I've never... I'm not the kind of person who offers comfort, Isla."

I didn't know what to say to that. He seemed so sure, so convinced that he was nothing more than the sum of his shadows and his pain. But I wasn't convinced. There was more to him than that—there had to be.

Before I could respond, his gaze drifted away, his features hardening slightly. I followed his line of sight and saw Elain standing at the far end of the balcony, her delicate features framed by the soft light of the morning sun.

The tension in Azriel's posture was immediate, his shadows shifting restlessly around him. I felt like I was intruding on something deeply personal, something I couldn't possibly understand.

Elain's gaze flicked to me briefly before settling on Azriel, and for a moment, it felt like the world held its breath.

"Azriel," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of something I couldn't quite place.

He nodded to her, his expression unreadable, and then, without another word, he turned and walked away. His shadows lingered for a moment, hovering around me like a fleeting whisper before following him into the shadows.

I watched him go, my chest tight with an ache I didn't fully understand.

Elain didn't say anything to me, but she didn't need to. Her presence alone was enough to remind me of the gulf between us—the mortal girl with no place in this world and the woman who seemed to hold a piece of Azriel's heart, even if it was fractured and complicated.

As the day wore on, I couldn't stop thinking about the way Azriel had looked at me, the way his shadows had reached for me. There was something there, something unspoken, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it mattered.

But it wasn't just about me. It was about him—about the pain he carried, the battles he fought within himself. And as much as I wanted to reach out to him, to offer him some semblance of comfort, I wasn't sure if he'd let me.

All I knew was that his shadows had chosen me, and maybe, just maybe, that meant something. Something neither of us fully understood yet.

Put some suggestions for the story scenes in comment section If you'd like. I am open to any new ideas or recommendations.😊😜.

Taglist:-

@donnadiddadog

[azrielmasterlist]

His Shadows & Their Starlight

Storyline:-(Ver.2.0) Azriel is sitting next to Elain as you sit by the fireplace reading. You've been staying with Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand for the past two months in Velaris. You're a mortal but Rhysand says you have different abilities that no mortal should be able to have. For example, winnowing or teleporting. Azriel is in love with Elain Archeron even though Elain already has a mate.

Word count:- 1.3k

Warnings:- Insecurity, Lonliness, Jealousy, Angst.

Series:- Chapter 2

Chapter 1: The Shadows in the Room

Isla's POV

I didn’t belong here.

That thought echoed through my mind over and over as I sat at the large, intricately carved wooden table in the Night Court’s expansive dining hall. The room was filled with an air of quiet sophistication, bathed in the soft light of glowing crystals that flickered in hues of violet and gold. It was beautiful, like something out of a dream, and yet all I could feel was out of place.

I was a mortal. A mere human with abilities I still didn’t fully understand, lost in a world of immortals—Fae, gods, and creatures far beyond anything I had ever imagined. They were kind to me, at least outwardly, but the strange feeling of being different, of being a thing that didn’t belong, weighed heavily on my chest. The shimmering elegance of Velaris seemed to mock my smallness, my humanity.

I tried to focus on the conversation happening around me, but it was all noise, all blur. Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, was speaking to someone, his voice smooth and calm, but I couldn’t pay attention to the words. My gaze wandered around the room, falling on a lone figure at the far end of the table.

Azriel.

The spymaster. The shadowsinger. The brooding, silent warrior with eyes that could pierce straight through you, as if he could see everything—every flaw, every mistake, every fear. He had always been the most mysterious of the Night Court, and no matter how many times I tried to make sense of him, I always came up short.

He was seated far from me, his posture stiff and rigid, his eyes fixed on something that wasn’t there. He looked like he didn’t want to be here, like he was waiting for something to end.

But even in his detachment, there was something about him that drew me in, a pull I couldn’t quite explain. It was more than just his dark, handsome features or the way his presence seemed to fill the room despite his quiet demeanor. No, it was deeper than that. It was the aura of sadness, of anger, that seemed to cling to him like a second skin.

I had only been in Velaris for a few weeks, but I had already sensed the tension between him and Elain, the youngest member of the Inner Circle. They rarely spoke directly to each other, and when they did, it was cold, distant. Sometimes, their exchanges felt like a battle of wills, neither one willing to yield.

Elain was kind, gentle, the kind of person who radiated warmth and light. She was everything Azriel wasn’t, and yet the connection between them was undeniable. But it was also complicated. She had her bond with Lucien, the fiery redhead who always seemed to be in the middle of everything, and Azriel… Azriel had his own battles.

Watching them from a distance, I couldn’t help but feel like an intruder. They were tied to each other in ways I couldn’t understand, and I didn’t know where I fit in. As a mortal, I was a guest, a foreigner in their world, and I had no place in their intricate web of relationships.

But despite that, my eyes kept drifting back to Azriel. There was something about him, something that pulled at me even in my confusion and isolation. I couldn’t stop noticing the way his shadows flickered around him like extensions of his very being, like they were alive, whispering secrets to each other.

It was in the way his shadows moved that night that caught my attention.

They weren’t just there. They were… reaching.

As the conversation continued around me, I felt a strange sensation creeping along my skin, like an electric charge in the air. My heart skipped a beat as I realized the shadows that trailed behind Azriel were moving, stretching toward me. They were subtle at first, almost imperceptible, but as the night wore on, they became harder to ignore.

My pulse quickened. I was in the middle of a conversation, but my attention had completely shifted. I couldn’t take my eyes off the shadows. I looked up at Azriel, who had yet to notice my gaze, and felt a twinge of unease. Why was I feeling this? Was I imagining things?

“Isla?”

Rhysand’s voice broke through my thoughts, and I blinked rapidly, snapping back to reality. I looked up to find him smiling kindly at me, though there was a glimmer of concern in his violet eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “I was… lost in thought.”

Rhysand’s smile deepened, but there was still a touch of curiosity in his gaze. “It’s all right. If you’re not feeling up to this, we can call it a night.”

I shook my head quickly, not wanting to appear weak. “No, I’m fine.”

I forced my attention back to the conversation, but my thoughts remained on Azriel, on the way the shadows that swirled around him seemed to reach out to me. They were drawing closer now, moving like tendrils of smoke, curling and uncurling as if beckoning me.

There was no reason for me to feel this way. Shadows were nothing new to me; I had learned long ago to accept that I had strange abilities, some of which I didn’t fully understand. But this… this was different. These weren’t just shadows. They were alive, and they wanted something from me.

I glanced again at Azriel. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t acknowledged the strange movements of the shadows at all. His face remained impassive, as though he didn’t even notice the way his own shadows responded to me. But I could feel them. They were reaching for me, wrapping around me in a silent embrace.

The moment felt surreal. My skin tingled with an odd warmth, and I felt… comforted. The shadows, cold and dark as they were, seemed to understand me in a way no one else had. I wasn’t sure if they were reaching for me because they recognized something in me or if it was just Azriel’s quiet power influencing them. But I was drawn to them, to the silence they offered, to the unspoken promise they seemed to whisper.

I wanted to pull back, to escape the weight of the moment, but I couldn’t. The shadows surrounded me like a second skin, offering their quiet, silent support.

“Isla?”

This time, it was Azriel’s voice, low and gravelly, and I flinched. My heart raced as I turned to face him. His piercing hazel eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, the tension between us seemed to stretch out in a tight, invisible line.

He was watching me closely, studying me with an intensity that made me feel exposed, as if he could see right through me.

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words failed me. I wasn’t sure what I could say. I didn’t understand what was happening.

“You’re… staring,” Azriel said, his voice softer now, though it held a faint trace of curiosity.

I didn’t know how to respond. The shadows were still with me, curling around my legs and arms like a gentle caress, and yet, I could feel their weight. Azriel’s shadows. The shadows that followed him wherever he went.

I wanted to ask him about them. I wanted to ask him why they reacted to me, why they seemed to care. But I couldn’t. Something about him—his distance, his silence—kept me at arm’s length.

“I’m sorry,” I managed finally, though the apology felt hollow. “I just… felt something.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t push further. He merely nodded, his gaze never leaving mine.

I wasn’t sure what happened next. But I knew, deep down, that this moment, this strange connection with the shadows, was only the beginning of something I couldn’t yet comprehend.

As the night wore on, the shadows stayed with me, their presence never fading, and I realized that no matter how much I tried to escape it, I was bound to this world. To Velaris. To Azriel.

And perhaps, just perhaps, I was meant to be here.