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@azrielshadowsingerweek
Azriel Appreciation Week is moving!
We're moving blogs so our handles match across social profiles. Head over to @azrielappreciationweek for updates and the official announcement of Azriel Appreciation Week!
Az Week Day 7: Free Day
- 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓃𝑔 𝒜𝓏 𝑜𝓃 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓁𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝒾𝓃 ℐ𝓁𝓁𝓎𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 🥹💙
“𝑪𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒊𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒂 𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒂𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝑰𝒍𝒍𝒚𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒔. 𝑾𝒆’𝒓𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅.”
𝑨 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝑴𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒖𝒓𝒚 𝒃𝒚 @sjmaas
Artist: @ehmandinha (insta/twitter)
Comissioned by me
Do not repost it please 🫶💕
The One Where Somebody Says I Do?
Happy Free Day @azrielshadowsingerweek!! I've had this fic idea in my head for a while and decided to share it for the last day of Azriel week. It's heavily inspired by a few Friends episodes combined into one. Let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is always welcome. Negative and rude comments are not tolerated. 💙
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Trigger warnings: language
Word Count: 4,914
Ch 1: Where Do We Begin
This chapter begins at the end of chapter 79 of ACOSF and immediately continues into the aftermath of Cassian’s conversation with Eris in the Hewn City, when Eris receives another visitor. Seven months later, Rhys calls Azriel to the war room in the middle of the night.
Fic Summary:
Like a cloak of heat and flame, the power of the Autumn Court settled on his shoulders. The air crackled and sparked as the very foundations of the Forest House trembled beneath the blood spattered boots of the new High Lord.
Eris Vanserra opened his eyes, expecting the world to be shrouded in fire. Instead he saw the Shadowsinger standing near the foot of the dais, wreathed in wisps of darkness. The Illyrian's green-bronze eyes glinted with curiosity and caution and flecks of burnished gold. Gold.
There was only gold. A golden thread spooled out of his chest towards the winged male. The one who'd been his sworn enemy for over five-hundred years. Rhysand's spymaster. The feared Shadowsinger. Azriel. His... mate.
[from chapter 2]
Read here on AO3 :) I hope you all enjoy Azris as much as I do.
Posting this for @azrielshadowsingerweek Free Day!
@damedechance @iftheshoef1tz @headcanonheadcase @booknerd87 @vikingmagic33 @mystical-blaise @houseofhurricane @the-lonelybarricade
Gwyn: What’s your love language?
Azriel: Darkness and murder.
________
@azrielshadowsingerweek
Private
Azriel Week Day Seven ~ Free Day
Genre: Modern AU
Relationship: Elain Archeron x Azriel
Word Count: 1.8K
Warnings: Fluff, talks of building a sex room, sex toys, no one under the age of 18, swearing
Description: After being married for several years and having two beautiful girls Az and Elain decide they need to build themselves a sex room and turn to Day and Night Designs for help.
A/N: This is based on the Netflix show "How to Build a Sex Room". Some friends and I were talking and the idea was born. And this actually wasn't supposed to be the fic for the free day but it was the only one I could come up with an actual story for so I decided to use it.
@azrielshadowsingerweek
Ribbons. Rope. Chains. Oh my.
The way Azriel’s head was spinning as Emerie led him and Elain through the sex shop. Azriel had only been in a sex shop a handful of times before and those were back in his younger years. Now he was a father to two beautiful girls and hadn’t thought about coming to a place like this since he was in his twenties. Elain seemed equally as uncomfortable, but he could see the curiousness in her eyes as Emerie led them through the shop and showed them different vibrators, oral toys, and even furniture.
@azrielshadowsingerweek Day 7: Free Day
Unable to sleep, Gwyn goes to the training ring. She's not surprised to find Azriel already there. What does surprise her is that the Shadowsinger has stolen her favorite dagger for his own use.
You can read this Gwynriel drabble (just over 1k words) below or you can find it on AO3.
“It’s late, shouldn’t you be asleep?” Gwyn didn’t even slow her steps as she moved from the stairwell and crossed the training ring to the equipment chest. It’s like part of her knew he would be here, wanted him to be here.
Azriel kept his focus on the target, the moonlight highlighting the elegant plains of his face, intensifying his look of concentration. But he still took a moment to acknowledge her.
“I could say the same to you.” The dagger flew through the air, striking the dummy with a solid ‘thunk.’ Gwyn didn’t need to look to know it had struck true.
She shrugged in reply, as though to say it was of no concern to her, and then kneeled before the chest to search for her favorite dagger. If Azriel was taking target practice, she would too. If neither of them could sleep tonight, at least they could spend it with a kindred spirit.
Her favorite dagger isn’t where it should be. Gwyn frowned. She was certain she put it right there earlier. She combed the chest looking for it. There were plenty of daggers, but none were the one she wanted. The one that seemed to fit just right in her hand. The one that was weighted perfectly, helping her strike true more often than not. The one that…
“Looking for this?”
Gwyn turned and looked up to her left. Azriel feigned innocence as he held out the dagger in his hand, angling it just so for her inspection. And not just any dagger; her dagger.
“That’s my favorite dagger,” she told him. His mouth curled into a positive feline grin. She narrowed her eyes slightly. “But you knew that already.”
“I might have.” Azriel tossed the dagger up in the air. It flipped over twice before he caught the hilt in his waiting palm. He twisted it in his hand, so that the handle was pointing at her. Az bent slightly at the waist, in a sketch of a bow, and offered it to her.
Gwyn stood, eyes locked on his. She took a half step toward him, hand out to grasp the dagger he offered. But then she dropped her hand to his side and removed his dagger from the scabbard strapped there. Gwyn stepped away and to the side, bringing her prize with her, much to Az’s surprise.
Truth-Teller. The legendary blade was as dark as the night sky around them.
“Well played, Valkyrie,” Azriel praised. “The magic blade for the mundane; smart choice.”
Gwyn inspected the dagger: eyes and fingers running hungrily over the blade, the hilt. She openly admired it with wonder. “They say it always strikes true.”
Azriel modestly shrugged a shoulder. “It has never failed me.”
Holding her head high, Gwyn strode over to the target dummy. She blew out two long, steady breaths, taking aim at the dummy down range. As she released her third breath, she let Truth-Teller fly. The blade struck the wooden form dead center in the painted heart.
She turned to Azriel with a smirk. “Hasn’t failed me either.”
“Once. You threw it once, Berdara.” There was a hint of a laugh in his voice.
“Maybe I need to keep it then. Practice with it some more. Just to be sure.” Gwyn walked to the dummy in order to retrieve Truth Teller. Azriel’s hand closed over hers just as she grasped the hilt. Her eyes flew to his. She hadn’t seen him approaching; hadn’t been expecting him to touch her. They never touched, except for when it was absolutely necessary. She wasn’t expecting it. But she didn’t mind his touch. She wasn’t expecting that either.
Gwyn and Az were frozen in place in front of the dummy for the space of a few heartbeats. Then Azriel seemed to remember himself. He dropped his hand and stepped back. Gwyn acutely felt the loss of his scarred fingers against hers.
“That’s my favorite dagger,” he told her, slowly. As though he was surprised by his own impulsiveness.
She swallowed thickly, considering her next move. “I suppose it would be cruel to keep it. Seeing as you can’t sleep without it.”
Even though it was dark, Gwyn swore that a blush briefly crossed his cheeks before he offered her a crooked smile. “You remembered that?”
“I learned all sorts of fascinating things about you that evening, Shadowsinger. I’m not likely to forget any of them.” Gwyn punctuated this by pulling Truth-Teller free.
Azriel’s eyes searched hers. She wondered what he was looking for, if he would find it. She would gladly give him whatever answers he wanted, if he would only ask his questions.
“Dagger for a dagger then?” he offered at last.
Gwyn shook her head. “Dagger for a song.”
“You drive a hard bargain.” Azriel grinned. This might be the most she had ever seen him smile. “Did you have a particular song in mind?”
Gwyn handed Truth Teller back to him. Azriel sheathed it at his side immediately, patting it twice as though to reassure himself that it was there, it was safe. A comfort to every growing child. She bit her lip to keep from smiling at the memory.
“I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
Azriel considered their bargain for a moment before he drew in a deep breath. His voice, normally low and almost flat, came to life as he sang. It rose, soared; it seemed to transport Gwyn to the stars themselves. It even seemed to extend to his shadows. The male before her allowed his soul out to play.
She wondered how long it had been since he last sang. If he had been alone then, or had he an audience. If his brothers, Cassian and Rhys, had ever heard him. But then Gwyn realized her time would be better spent listening, experiencing, and savoring rather than wondering.
Her eyes slipped closed as Azriel’s song seeped into her at last, her soul finally succumbing to its spell. And there, in the training ring, as Azriel sang, something sparked inside Gwyn’s chest. It glowed deep inside her heart, nurtured by his song.
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@vikingmagic33 @ofduskanddreams @damedechance @hlizr50 @mystical-blaise @amandapearls @booknerd87
I need a scene where Azriel and Lucien are in the same room (before we get any broken bonds). Then Elain sees Azriel and runs straight into his arms. In front of everyone. Ugh I NEED this to happen. I need this not only for Elain, but for Azriel.
Like this:
Ya know?
Here we go. Fast phone fic with no editing:
Ash arrows rained down but he somehow managed to use the reserves in his siphons to shield him and Lucien as they ran. Whoever gave them away in the Autumn Court would die.
Slowly.
Painfully.
By the blade of the dagger strapped to his thigh.
But he’d deal with that later. Because right now, he just needed to get him and Lucien back to Velaris. “We’ve got to get out of here,” he barked out as they tore through the trees. Branches bit at their skin and clothes.
Lucien’s head snapped in his direction. “And how do you want to do that while we’re being fired upon, shadowsinger?” he panted.
Azriel bit back his retort as he edged closer to the Autumn Lord and grabbed him by the forearm. Mustering as much power as he could, he pulled them both into the shadows, the winds tearing at their bodies and faces until they landed on the terrace of Rhys and Feyre’s estate.
“Fucking hell. I’ll never get used to that,” Lucien muttered.
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, we didn’t have time for you to winnow forty times across Prythian.”
The other male snarled at the insult. Their relationship was tenuous at best, especially given the fact that Azriel was in love with Lucien’s mate and the redhead had no idea.
Entering the sitting room, they were ambushed by his High Lord and Lady. Azriel launched into a quick debrief when he heard her feet—knew she made it purposeful. Elain could be silent when she wanted to be.
The door was thrown open and there she was. Beautiful as he remembered with golden-brown hair and stunning doe eyes. Eyes that swept over his form and took in every bump, scrape, and bruise on his skin. She marked everything, noting what she would need to apply a salve to later.
His possessive side warmed at the fact that she didn’t even bother glancing at the other male in the room.
A sound came out of her and then she was running right for him.
Azriel caught her; barely managed to throw his wings out, knocking a vase off a shelf in his attempt to steady them as she launched into his arms, legs around his waist, hands sliding around his shoulders to secure herself to him.
“You’re home,” she cried into his neck, her tears dampening his skin.
He gripped her under one thigh, the other around her back as he buried his face into her hair to inhale her luscious honey and jasmine scent. Azriel didn’t care that they had an audience, or that nobody knew of their relationship. He only cared about his girl. His love in his arms right now. “I’m home,” he murmured.
A scoff broke through his happiness and he turned to find Lucien staring at him. “Well, that’s one way to tell me you’re sleeping with her.”
Az snarled, tightening his grip on Elain’s thigh. She clung tightly to him as his shadows swirled around them protectively. He’d fight like hell if it came down to it. Both her mate and his brother who was glaring at him.
But Lucien just waved a hand. “Relax. I could smell the jasmine on you and was just waiting for you to tell me.” He nodded at the Shadowsinger. “I’m sure you can give them the details of the mission for now. I’d like to bathe first.” His attention fixed on Elain and Azriel couldn’t help but flex his wings—peacocking as she so politely called it. A small, known smile crept on Lucien’s face. “We’ll talk later, Elain.” Without another word, he strode from the room.
He didn’t dare look at his brother, not wanting to have that conversation tonight. But he could feel his gaze like a brand on his skin.
Feyre, sensing the shift in the mood, grabbed Rhys by the arm. “We’ll let you two get reacquainted. We can discuss tomorrow.”
After dragging an unwilling High Lord from the room, they were finally alone. “I missed you,” Elain whispered burrowing further into his embrace.
He softly smiled. “I missed you, too.” Kissing her deeply, Azriel realized that when he was with Elain, he never felt more at home.
~~~
It’s Azriel Week, Free Day somewhere, right? 💙🦇
@azrielshadowsingerweek
I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.
⊱❊⊰
⤞ art by @artyventurer
⤞ commissioned by me
@azrielshadowsingerweek : Wishes for the Future
⊱❊⊰
Do not repost, please.
@azrielshadowsingerweek Day 6: Wishes for the Future
Ribbon & Rocks finds Azriel post-canon working with Gwyn on the final item on the list of all the mistakes the Valkyries had made during the Blood Rite. You can find this drabble (just over 1k words) on AO3 or you can keep reading below!
Cassian had suggested they draw straws, and while Azriel had rolled his eyes at the time, he was starting to think that he shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss the idea.
They had made a list of all the mistakes the Valkyries had made during the Blood Rite. Gwyn, in particular, seemed to be offended by the sheer length of it, and had wanted to argue several of the points. But Azriel had refused to budge. Just as he refused to admit how scared he had been during the Rite. Scared for her.
The list was a good thing; it was designed to show the females what to correct, what to learn, what to improve if they wanted to be true Valkyries, true warriors. Azriel knew that he and Cassian had trained them well, but there was always something else, some skill they could share, some knowledge they could pass on. Because you never knew what little thing might stand between you and death.
The final item on the list was wilderness survival training. How to navigate across terrain and live off the land. Cassian had suggested flying the females into the Illyrian steeps one by one, supplying them with nothing more than a knife, and letting them find their way back to Windhaven. One of them would follow and observe. No interference was allowed.
Azriel felt that Cassian shouldn’t accompany Nesta, given their mating bond. Azriel would be the one to follow her while Cassian took Emerie on a different day. That only left Gwyn. Azriel wanted to be the one to take her into the wilderness. He had to. It was the only way he wouldn’t worry. But he was wary of showing his hand to Cassian.
So, when Cassian had suggested drawing straws to see who was stuck with the opinionated, stubborn, determined Priestess, Azriel had waived him off. Pretending to be a martyr, pretending to take one for the team, Azriel had agreed to accompany Gwyn. But in reality, he was relieved. He wouldn’t have to worry about her. He wouldn’t be stuck on the outside again, wondering if she was safe. He wouldn’t have to feel helpless, like he had during the Rite.
Azriel hadn’t felt helplessness like that since he had been a child. His fear for Gwyn had been like a vice around his soul, squeezing and squeezing, until he was sure his heart was about to burst. His mind had raced and his shadows had given him no peace. Gwyn, there had only been thoughts of Gwyn. He knew she wasn’t weak. He knew she wouldn’t fail. Unfortunately, none of that knowledge soothed his fears at the time.
But now, that he was actually out here in the woods with her, Azriel was beginning to think they should have drawn straws. Because Gwyn seemed determined not to take the lesson seriously.
“You don’t have to walk behind me you know,” she called over her shoulder to him.
“Just imagine that I’m not here.”
“That’s a little difficult to do with your shadows hovering.”
Azriel hadn’t been able to get them to stay with him today. They seemed to prefer her company to his. Not that he blamed them. He’d rather be with her rather than pretending to be invisible.
“Come walk beside me,” Gwyn offers.
“This isn’t a date, Berdara.” More a reminder for him than her.
“I’m not asking to hold your hand, Shadowsinger,” she counters. “I just think it’s silly to pretend that I’m alone when clearly I’m not.”
Azriel lets out a little sigh. “If I walk with you, will you promise to behave?”
“Cross my heart.”
Gwyn pauses to let Azriel catch up. Crouching down as she waits; she picks up a few small rocks from the forest floor and slips them into her pocket. She straightens up as he draws alongside of her.
"Much better," she observes approvingly. “Now, what’s next in this diabolical test of yours?”
“I don’t have any tricks up my sleeve. I’m just here to watch as you walk back to Windhaven. To make sure you can find your way, that you can locate food and water, and that you can build a shelter and a fire.”
“Or is that what you just want me to think?” Gwyn offers him an irreverent wink before she begins walking again.
They fall into silence now that they are walking side-by-side. After a while, Gwyn reaches up to untie the white Valkyrie ribbon she is wearing around her head. Using her knife, she cuts it in half, and then pockets it. Azriel wonders why but doesn’t ask, reminding himself that he is here to observe only.
A short distance on, Gwyn stops at the top of a small rise. Leaning down, she plants her booted foot on top of a rock and uses her knife to remove the top portion of the leather from the tongue. She pokes two holes on opposite edges with the tip of the blade before stowing it back in the sheath. Next, Gwyn takes the two lengths of ribbon from her pocket. Humming, she threads one through the hole she just made and ties it off. Then she does the same on the other side with the other half before tying a loop in the end of the ribbon.
Azriel wants to complement her on her ingenuity, but Gwyn walks on, down the hill, eyes on the trees, seemingly ignoring his existence. She’s still humming to herself. Azriel’s shadows pick up her song and join in. Then suddenly, she stops.
“What are–“
She promptly shushes Azriel. Slowly reaching into her pocket, Gwyn retrieves one of the rocks she picked up earlier. She places it into the small pouch made by the piece of leather. Then, slipping the loop of ribbon over her finger and holding tight to the other end, Gwyn steps forward and begins swinging the rock over her head. Her slingshot propels the rock high up into the trees, where is strikes a squirrel. The furry creature falls to the forest floor, dead.
“One task down. Four to go,” Gwyn says with glee. “I look forward to claiming my prize, Shadowsinger.”
“Gwyn, this isn’t a competition. And there isn’t a prize.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” And as she walks away to retrieve the squirrel, Azriel is suddenly glad that they didn’t draw straws after all.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@azrielshadowsingerweek @vikingmagic33 (thanks for the killer title card bestie!) @hlizr50 @mystical-blaise @booknerd87 @ofduskanddreams @damedechance
Azriel Week Day Six ~ Wishes for the Future
My wishes for the future are that Azriel is able to find peace for himself. The poor man has just been going nonstop for centuries. I just want him to be able to be fully himself with everyone and not feel like he needs to hide certain aspects of himself. Az is very closed off and I can understand why. I would like to see the brooding man soften, maybe those headaches he always seems to have will finally ease up and leave him be. Maybe he can take less responsibility and train a new generation so that he can spend more time with those that he loves. I just want him to be able to have some form of peace and stability in his life that he may not have at this current moment in the series.
@azrielshadowsingerweek
Gwyn: Would you say we’re friends?
Azriel: Yes.
Gwyn: Good friends?
Azriel: Sure.
Gwyn: Hugging friends?
Azriel: Okay.
Gwyn: Kissing friends?
Azriel: *blushes and squeaks*
Azriel:
Gwyn: Sex friends?
Azriel: *passes out*
__________
@azrielshadowsingerweek
request! for the secret dating au heheheheh: elain finding her dream engagement ring on pinterest and showing it to azriel as a joke (or him seeing it on accident) and then him proposing with it months later 🥰🥰🥰?????
Thank you so much for sending this prompt! I hope you like where I took it, and I think it fits in nicely for day six of Azriel Week: wishes for the future 🥰
~
Azriel cracked open his eyes slowly, letting them gradually adjust to the buttery morning light streaming in from behind his blinds. Instinctively reaching out in the direction he knew his girlfriend would be, his fingers explored the rumpled sheets, the stirring in his chest settling contentedly as he finally located her smooth curves. Grazing his palm along her waist, yearning for the contact of her skin in the morning, he tugged her body across the sheets toward him. Rolling onto his side, he wound his thick arms around her middle, enveloping her snuggly into the cradle of his chest.
Elain’s hair was a wild tangle of curls, her thick mane tickling his face as he buried himself deeper in the golden tresses, breathing her familiar jasmine shampoo into his lungs.
Azriel 🦇
Shadows and Attors and Wolves, Oh My!
A very short bit of nonsense, posted for @azrielshadowsingerweek Day 5 - Hobbies. It could also work for Day 3 - Friends and Family.
Feyre stepped softly up the stairs to her now twelve month old son's room, looking forward to some cuddles after a long day meeting with Velaris' city planners, and hoping that Rhys had kept him up just a wee bit little later than usual so she wouldn't have to wake him. Nyx, a bright and cheerful child, was always happy to hug his Mama, but his mood did suffer a little the next morning if his sleep was interrupted.
Rounding the corner of the landing, she heard the dregs of a whispered suggestion, followed by some sort of deep, muffled question, and then a quick, "Do it, he loves the scary ones best," in her mate's night-kissed voice. Giggling cut through the silence of the river house, full of joy.
Curiosity piqued, she winnowed silently, landing just outside the doorway to Nyx's room, finding Rhys and Azriel inside. Rhys was lounging in the rocking chair, with two arms full of one very excited Nyx—who was clapping his hands and wings in time with each other, nearly smacking his father in the face—while Azriel was standing off to the side of the faelight set on the bedside table, using his shadows to create extravagant creatures against the wall.
She smiled at the sight.
Azriel must have been practising, because these animals were readily identifiable and even moved independently. A far cry from his earliest efforts.
As Feyre watched, she saw the wolf and puppies romping across the wall transform into a winged faerie, then five, with wings and talons spread as they flew across the wall—all Attors, she quickly realised. Concern for her son rose, as she didn't want to put him to bed primed for nightmares, but before she could say anything a soft, dark presence stroked at the edges of her mind.
It's okay, Rhys said, Nyx here seems to appreciate the fell beasts. The more horrific, the better.
Relaxing, Feyre sent a single message back down their bond: If he wakes up crying, I blame you.
Rhys chuckled, and Azriel, who had almost certainly known she was there from the moment she had entered the house, simply raised his eyebrows at his brother. "Silent conversations are rude when one person can't participate, you know."
Rhys raised one hand in apology as Feyre stepped into the room. "Alright, shadow master. What next?"
Feyre grinned wickedly, taking Nyx into her arms and perching herself on the tufted arm of the chair, dropping a kiss on the top of his soft, dark hair.
"Try Bryaxis."
~🦇🦇🦇~
Please excuse this short, fluffy nonsense. I just think it would mean a lot to Azriel to be able to use his powers for innocent fun. To know that his shadows, which might be considered scars of a sort - of his time in his father's dungeon, if that is truly when they came to him - are thought of as beautiful by his friends and family. That they, he, can create things of beauty, and bring joy.
"Azriel smiled faintly. ”Would you like me to show you the garden?” She seemes so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded - just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, ”Beautiful.” "
I made this for azriel week day 4: romance
Characters: Elain Archeron and Azriel
Series: A Court Of Thorns And Roses
-don't repost without my permission or credit
Azriel Week Day Five: hobbies
TW: canon material (which, apparently, is triggering for some).