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This got out of hand, don't want to label it as Dark!Azriel since it's a breeding drug but it's darkish. Wonderful @daycourtofficial wrote this fic and I thought I could try the breeding potion since I've read fics about it before. But I wanted it to be a little dark, not just smut. Here is the result!
Plot: during a trip to the Illyrian mountains, Azriel and you discover a cabin with all types of monstrosities. One of them ends up in Azriel's blood system, a breeding tonic, which no male nor female has survived before.
Warnings: it is consensual but the consent is given in a life-death situation for both characters. Rough, unhinged Azriel smut. Sex pollen fic.
Illyrians were the worst males alive, and if it was up to you, you would blow those mountains down until none of them breathed. Proof of their cruelty was the lab you were investigating right then, that had installed a permanent frown on your face.
The silence of the room was only broken by the occasional scoffs from your partner, who seemed to have the same feelings about the work done in there. With a half-limp from the previous fight against the guards, you let your eyes travel between the different labeled bottles and horror at their uses.
Pain extension for wing clipping – prevents the muscles from reattaching
Numbing lotion – apply in small quantities before perpetration, makes the female stop squirming
Pleasure beverages – draws the pleasure out of fae 1 and inducts it into fae 2. Still testing
All of them were horrific and terrible, and all of them had been tested. You had heard rumors about hat place before, but Azriel and you didn’t have a real location until now. The twenty males that had died protecting that secret were proof of how sicked that twisted that place was.
“It feels wrong to be here” Azriel muttered from the other side of the room, holding up a bunch of vials in his scarred hands. “How long have it taken them to fill all this up?”
“They are all against… females. Years of researching into their pain, uses and worth” you commented too, your voice only a whisper. “And they have been tested. Approved”
“Let’s finish this and get out of here”
You could feel Azriel’s shadows too exploring the room, and for a moment, you gave yourself a minute to think about possibilities. You had also been raised by Illyrians, in the mountains, yet had been lucky enough to be born in Windhaven. To live next to Rhys’ mother’s cabin and become friends with Cassian, Azriel and Rhysand.
To have one of them as your kind-of-lover, at least more than friends. Everyone knew that you and the shadowsinger were something, and few males approached you when you visited the camps.
You had been lucky, because you could have ended just like those girls that had been used like guinea pigs. The hairs on your arms rose up just at the idea, and you promised yourself you would find each and every participant and tear them into pieces.
“Y/N” Azriel called out of you, and you turned around. “Watch this”
The tremble in his voice, the break from his usual stoic voice, was enough to tear you away from your own worries and thoughts. You replaced his place in front of a worn-down table, full to the brim. Azriel stepped back until he was behind you, until he was between you and the open space.
It didn’t go unnoticed.
You looked over to the notebook he was holding open, old and used. There were different handwritings, names of women crossed out and names of males half-erased. On top, a blank space for the name they would come up with.
In the desk, you spotted several vials with a blueish, bright liquid, some of them empty. The handwritten was tough to read, but before you could squint your eyes, Azriel summed it up for you.
“They were testing breeding accelerations” he explained, the edge of his wing curling around your smaller form. “So far, they hadn’t had results. All the participants died, both males and females”
You held your breath as you read some of the details. Fucked to death seemed to be repeated a lot. Was it a game, to them, the lives of so many women that were dragged into their sick experiments? The miracle of life that they perverted so often?
Azriel shifted closer to you on instinct, probably thinking about the same options you were pondering about. His warm chest against your back made you close the notebook with little care. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, feel pity for those males who had died raping innocent females, probably sold by their own father.
The best thing you could do now was try and find their corpses, give them a proper burial and incinerate the whole place down.
Scarred fingers brushed yours softly, like a gosht touch. Azriel wasn’t a verbal lover, not a public one. He preferred to stay quiet and hidden, and you liked him just like that. Only with your fingers tangling, you expressed the horrors in that poisoned cabin.
You turned around, intending to give him a small smile and maybe make it seem real, but you caught movement from the corner of your eyes. The troubled look on Azriel eyes had him too far away to notice the threat, and you only had time to squeeze your joined hands before he was pushed into you.
With a considerate force, you both collided against the work desk and tumbled into the ground with its content.
“Bitches” the incomer groaned, the edge of his knife breaking the skin of Azriel’s forearm. “You’re all bitches, bastards”
“Motherfucker”
You cursed when your hands touched something sticky. The attacker’s knife scurried down Azriel’s arm when your knife drove through his head. A sickening crunch of blood, bone and brain echoed through the cabin. Azriel had kept his body as an iron shield around you, but you had managed to drag one of your curved weapons and kill the male.
He hissed when the body fell against his back, elbows crumbling under the unexpected weight. You fell back against the sticky substance with a grimace, and helped Azriel push the dead body off.
“That was unfortunate” he complained, rolling off you. “I liked my new jacket”
“And I liked my knife clean, I had just wiped off the blood” you rolled your eyes, getting up and offering him a hand. “Even in death, they cause problems”
Azriel smiled at you when you helped him up, and while he readjusted his weapons, you looked down to the ground.
Papers and empty vials were scattered around. Most of the blood was from the corpse of the ground, which you realized, was one of the males you had thought you killed. One of his wings was missing, courtesy of Azriel, and he was covered in wounds. The biggest of them, the missing part of his head thanks to your knife.
You were about to comment about Azriel getting sloppy when you heard him suck a breath. His body tensed like an arch bow, one of his hands quickly peeling the leather off his arm.
“What?” you were instantly on him, helping him get a better look at the bleeding cut.
“There’s something here” he answered, and you didn’t miss the edge of panic in his usual calm voice. “Something is stuck. In the back”
“Must be a splinter” you walked to his side and peeled the rest of the hard training leathers. “Overgrown baby bat”
He didn’t laugh with you, and your smile died down when you saw the empty vial sticking out of his muscled biceps. It still held the remains of the blue liquid, mixing with his own blood. Azriel couldn’t see it, since it was small enough to hide from his sight. Objectively, it had broken from the fall and emptied on the ground. Objectively, it could be any vial and Azriel would be just fine and perfect.
You felt as if someone had submerged your head underwater as he asked you what was it. As you watched yet another drop run down from the bottom of the vial into his body. No matter how quickly you pulled it off, the harm was done.
For good measure, you took a step back and stared all your intrusive thoughts into the palm of your hand, where the remains of the vial stood. It was covered in his blood, your Azriel’s blood. Your friend, your lover, your Azriel. Your mouth went dry when you looked up and watched his eyes widen in panic.
“Is that…” he didn’t finish the question, nor he needed to.
“Think so. It’s small”
“Was it in? Has it touched my body?” Azriel reached a hand behind his back, searching for a non-existing reassurance in your eyes. “Y/N”
“Maybe it doesn’t work like this. It – it broke, the contents spilled before. We have no way of – “
“Was it in?”
You nodded softly, watching him find the exact point of puncture. You could try and fool yourself, fool him, but you noticed the change in his scent in just a few seconds. Under his spiced, fresh smell, there was something else. His throat bobbed down and his eyes darked, just an inch.
Both of you kept quiet for a second. It had never gone so wrong, so fast, in your missions together. You worked well, you were efficient. At worst cases, any of you got injured and the other would cause a carnage well deserved. At better, you spent time with the person you loved the most but didn’t dare to confess to.
Your ears picked up the increase of his heartrate, and your mind replayed the words in the notebook. The effects of the drug were clear – and the consequences too. That sprung you into action, rounding his rigid body and picking up the fallen notebook.
You flipped through the pages, trying to come up with something else. Something that wasn’t death and a breeding tonic that was just flooding through Azriel’s veins.
“I can’t winnow. I can’t… my shadows. They’re gone” you heard Azriel from behind you, but all you could see were words and crossed out names blurring together.
1st trial: Jolene and Atrox. Healthy subjects. No previous incidents to report.
The male ingested the vial. The effect was instant. Killed the female before undressing her, in his haste of getting closer. Snapped her neck. Died after two minutes, heart gave out.
“Rhysand doesn’t expect us until tomorrow. They won’t be coming. Damn it. Damn it!”
9nd trial: Marvel and Broncor. Stronger, healthier. She has already given birth. Fertile and flexible.
The male ingested the vial. The effect was instant. They copulated for five hours. Female died upon multiple traumas taken to the head. Male kept going for two more hours. Heart gave out.
“Isn’t it too hot? Y/N, listen – what are you doing? Y/N?”
20th trial: Evene and Cyrian. Mated couple. Together for fifteen years. Unconsented teaser.
It was injected into the male arm. The effect was instant. Lasted almost a day. Destroyed previous test cabin, in need for a new one. Female died from multiple lacerations. Male died. Heart gave out.
Weirdly, it wasn’t Azriel’s voice trying to call for you what broke you free from the notebook, but the faint sound of his heart. As you had read through the pages, it had increased dangerously. You had never heard it so loud and fast. The spymaster always controlled his heartrate – through exercises, through missions, through sex.
But you could hear it over your own, loud and demanding. You turned around and found Azriel covered in sweat. His pupils were expanded until you couldn’t see the sweet hazel behind them. And his hand, the one that wasn’t tugging at the edge of his shirt, was holding his crotch with a trembling grip.
The jacket was already on the ground, and above all of that, you vision became blurry at the notice of his arousal. The evident, primal arousal that filled the cabin, that was radiating off him in steady waves.
His eyes bored into yours with an intensity you had never seen, but he didn’t move. It must have taken you a while to read all those tests. Failed test where they all died, the males’ heart giving out in each one. And the heart you greeded the most was threatening to give out in front of you.
“You need to leave” Azriel managed to say, his hand squeezing his cock painfully.
“Az”
Part of you seemed to be horrified at the situation. It was aware of the danger Azriel had just turned into, the order to your legs to run fast and steady ready. It was the part of you Azriel had liked, that had made him train you to be a spy.
The other part, he had created. Between soft touches and kisses. You didn’t need a name to know that you loved him, that he had given you everything when he had nothing. That part was terrified, too, yet seemed to scream in the opposite direction.
Neither of those parts seemed to come up with a solution.
“Don’t say my name. Leave” he couldn’t help the moan at your voice, his fingers quickly getting rid of the confines of his trousers. “Y/N, leave”
His cock spang free with little effort, and he jacked off with an impressive speed. Yet you had read also test 14th, where the male had tried to masturbate and hadn’t even lasted five minutes. Any other day, you would have melted at the sight of Azriel’s cock tall and proud in front of you. There was a steady drip of precum that seemed too eager, too early.
He had an impressive resistance, as you well knew. But his balls were almost purple, the veins along his shaft pulsing.
“If you don’t give in, you will die” you announced him, trying to keep your eyes on his. Your own core was starting to pulse with unwanted need. “None of them could do it on their own. And you’re not different”
“And none of the females live either, Y/N. Please, please” his voice broke at the end. His nostrils flared at your own smell, and his thighs tightened in an effort to keep still. “Run as far as you can, and take Truthteller with you. I can’t – with you, I… leave, please”
“There is one who made it”
The lie rolled off your tongue easily, and you knew Azriel was in too much pain and desperation to notice. Only a male had survived, after killing three women in a row. Your heart seemed to work on its own as you noticed the opportunity. Staying wasn’t the reasonable option, yet leaving him was no option at all.
“It might take a while, but we can make it. You need to fuck it out, and we have done it before”
“With consent!” he almost screamed, ending up in a frustrated moan. “I won’t touch you while this is in me. Either you leave or I – I’m gonna – Y/N”
His heart speeded even more if that was possible, and his hand flattered. How long had it been? You didn’t want to think about how long he could make it, how long he could resist it. But you were certain that he would die before touching you in that cabin.
Azriel had been denied of many choices and options in his life, and you knew how much he hated to have decisions taken from him. You watched the anger in his eyes as you stepped closer, unbuttoning your jeans.
With muscle memory, you stepped out of your confines and stepped up to him. Every part of Azriel was on edge, every nerve on his body screamed. And still, he didn’t touch you. Azriel stared with a silent plea in his eyes, a last warning.
“I can’t do this” Azriel begged. “Not to you, Y/N. Don’t make me do this”
“I won’t lose you”
Those were your last words before you snuck up your arms around his shoulders, forcibly lowering his head so you could lock your lips with him. One last act of normality before the drug took control over him. At that point, there was only one real objective in your mind, one coherent thought – don’t let the only light in your life die. Don’t let Azriel die because a stupid mistake.
You brushed your lips against his and didn’t show the surprise at his body temperature. He was burning, not only hot against the cold wind, but sickly hot. His skin was sweaty against your palms, his lips cracked already.
“It’s fine, Az” you whispered against his mouth. “I trust you”
Before you could blink or fully register the implications of your consent, you were turned around and pushed to the closest wall. Only Azriel hand on your forehead avoided the blow to your head.
His other hand wasted no time to roam through your body, already with enough pressure to leave bruises. It wasn’t the kindness you were used to, the love Azriel professed for you in every touch and caress. His touch was rough and brutal, and you didn’t know what to do with the pooling wetness at the thought.
It could have been tears of frustration or drops of sweat falling onto your shoulder, but Azriel didn’t let you turn around to check. As if looking into your eyes made it worse.
“Az” you moaned loudly when he found your center, trembling with the restrain. “The door, close the door”
He obeyed when his index finger pressed in you with enough pression to make your knees tremble. You only heard the sound of the door closing, maybe his shadows doing the work, as your eyes rolled back when he started fingering you as if it was your own pleasure who was making him mad.
Azriel rutted into your body from behind, growling like a feral animal. His hips pushed into you again and again, the hand holding your face into place lowering to your neck. He kept pushing his finger in and out of you, in a rush to make you wet enough to take him. It wouldn’t have been a problem if it wasn’t for his size, that you were feeling in your lower back.
When you heard Azriel’s breath hitch, when you were sure he wouldn’t last another second with the drug speeding his heart, you urged him to continue.
“If it gets too much, kill me” Azriel whispered with the last remains of his self-control. “Promise me if it’s between me and you, you’ll kill me”
“We’re gonna be fine”
“Promise me”
You only nodded, and hoped he wouldn’t notice the second lie thrown his way.
His fingers left your entrance with a wet sound, and his cock replaced them. You were lifted a few inches with just one of his hands, your feet leaving the ground. Along the smell of both arousals and the sickening scent of the drug, you noticed the blood that peaked through the scratch on your naked chest.
The brief pain of the rough wood against them died down when Azriel finally pushed into you.
Azriel’s cock stretched you so much that, for a moment, you lost your breath. His body moved on its own accord, driven by the drug, and didn’t let you time to adjust. No matter how wet he had gotten you, it hurt. It hurt as he pistoled himself in and out, fast and hard. As he moaned and whined and screamed your name.
He fucked you so hard, yet you could see from the corner of your eye his fingers creating dents on the well. His sheer will was the only thing keeping him from killing you, according to the reports you had read previously.
You didn’t know for how long it went on, only that you came around his cock and he didn’t stop. He came minutes later, sputtering like a teenager with trembling knees, only to keep fucking you with the same strength.
It could have been minutes, or hours, yet the only thought you could focus on was that his heart was still beating, strong and steady. That you were alive and he was with you.
“I’m going to wreck you” Azriel panted, and his voice was only a distant sound in your haze of pain and pleasure. “Please kill me. Kill me before I do, Y/N”
It wasn’t a playful promise of two lovers, but a terrified pled from a drugged male. Azriel’s body was the only thing keeping you straight, his cock keeping his restless movement inside you. There were cuts all over your breast from how hard he was pushing you against the wall, yet he couldn’t stop.
The drug was so powerful, so primal, that he could only keep fucking you on and on.
Even if you wanted, you couldn’t have answered him. If felt like your throat had closed up long ago, only opening for moans or whines. The line between pain and pleasure was blurry all the time, and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it.
“Y/N. Y/N” he called your name as he emptied himself inside you once more – only to keep going a second after.
Your thighs were sticky with his cum and yours, cascading down your legs like a torrent. But the drug kept affecting his body, and he continued even when your body was too sore to handle it. You knew your tears would hurt him and break him into two, but you couldn’t control the overstimulation as you let them free fall your cheeks.
Azriel must have smelt them, the saltiness in the air, because for a moment the male was strong enough to slower his movements. You almost fell to the ground when he took a step back, his heart speeding all over again.
As if the last hours hadn’t meant nothing.
“Run” he whispered desperately, one of his hands furiously stroking his cock.
“I’m not leaving you here to die, Azriel” you managed to say. “Don’t make this harder”
You used the advantage of his self-control before it consumed, and turned around. You didn’t need to follow his gaze to the wounds on your chest, to the bruises with the form on his fingertips, to know they were there. The pain of Azriel’s action was making your mind dizzy.
Yet it was fuck or die. It was for him, whose eyes were still pitch black, his whole body covered in sweat. That you had managed to survive so long broke the records on that old notebook, and that alone would have been enough to make you consider how strong Azriel was.
But you couldn’t think about the pain he must have been in, only dried your tears on your forearm. More threatened to fall because you were tired. You wanted to stop and go back a few hours ago, burn that place down before it was too late. Still, you knew you couldn’t do that.
“I trust you, okay?” you reminded him as Azriel’s own eyes became glossy. “We can make it out. You just need to endure through and try not to kill me in the meantime. We can do it”
You weren’t as confident as before, but you didn’t have time to consider it. With your enhanced hearing, you could hear his heart. It had slowed down from that frenetic, dangerous point at the beginning, but it wasn’t safe still. At any moment, it would give up and you couldn’t phantom that thought.
So, with a trembling hand, you replaced his hand on his cock with yours. He had finished three times already, a fourth time when you used your other hand to squeezed his balls. They emptied on your stomach, precum flowing as soon as he finished.
“I’m so sorry” Azriel admitted, and your breath hitched as you kept stroking him.
It wasn’t enough, the drug made him need to be inside a woman. But it was giving you time to regain your breath, hug his shoulders once more and let him lower you to the ground.
-
Gaining back consciousness was a long process, that took you a few minutes. First it was the notice of the snow beneath your body, and on you. Flakes fell from the sky and covered your hair and nose, your naked feet. It should have made you cold, but you were warm.
Then it was the soreness that hug every inch of you, from your legs to your shoulders, even your neck. Your throat felt dry and it took you a few tries to open your eyes. When you did, you were met with white.
White ground, white sky, white trees. You frowned at your surroundings before the last events caught up with you, and your body perked up with panic.
Finally, you noticed Azriel’s body draped over yours. He was still inside you, one of his hands cupping your cheek. As you turned to look at him, you saw frozen tears on his cheeks, a sight so rare yet beautiful that broke the last of your stupor away.
“Az” you croaked out, more of a groan than a word.
You weren’t cold because his body and wings were a blanket against the weather. He too was unconscious, covered in snow. The last hours were blurry, only him and his body and the persistent need to hold on. You remembered his body heat, you suggesting the snow to lower it – and the cabin crumbling under his power as he came inside you once more.
One of your hands rose to his cheek, and you watched with morbid fascination the paleness on your fingertips, almost blue. You were far too tired to care about it, the edge of your consciousness slipping away once more.
“We should go” you muttered, tapping those frozen fingers against his cheek. His head just rolled back.
You tried to listen to his heart, to make sure he was alive and had survived the drug. But you blacked out before you could worry about it.
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Maybe this is a bit long and excesive? Maybe, but we love good angst, hurt and comfort. Thank you @marscardigan for your request! Feel free to send anything else. This is places inside the baker!reader universe, but it's independent. You can find other parts here.
Plot: your anonymity makes you a great choice for Rhysand's mission, even if Azriel doesn't agree. But you'll do anything to discover more of Azriel's life, even the worst part. So you decided to take that trip to Hewn City - where nightmares do come true.
Warnings: males being a lil creepy with their comments, Keir, violence.
“Az” you sighed for the third time that afternoon, staring at your stubborn mate. “It’s no big deal. Feyre has done it, Nesta has done it. Why can’t I?”
“They have done it because they have powers. They…” his words died when you raised a brow and dared him to tell you that they could and were different. More capable. “It’s not even about them, don’t change the topic. It’s about us. I don’t want you to do it”
“So, it’s fine when you leave for weeks to the mountains with a target on your back but I can’t accept one dance where you and your brothers will be watching?” you asked, and he finally looked away.
Azriel and you had been arguing about the same topic for two days in a row. Since Rhysand, who you had become fond of in the last years, asked you for a favor. He had been hoping you would come with them to Hewn City and dance with some males while they snooped around. You didn’t even have to carry weapons with you, since you would be introduced as part of their family.
It wasn’t dangerous or risky. It was a favor from your friend because Hew City didn’t know you. An unfamiliar face they would be too preoccupied studying to notice Feyre, Nesta and Mor sneaking into their studies. They would play the hard part. You just had to dance.
And Azriel was having a tantrum about it.
“The fact that you can’t even answer that question is enough. I’m going. And you can’t decide what I do and don’t”
“I can talk Rhysand out of it” he tried, not looking at you.
“Oh, like you haven’t tried that already”
You decided the conversation was finished and turned around to finish decorating the trail of cookies. Azriel was leaning against the counter, his usual place to watch you work in silent adoration. The storm in his eyes died down a little at the familiarity of your movements, at the comfort of the bakery.
Yes, he was mad. Mad at Rhysand because he hadn’t asked him first, mad at himself for considering he was your owner and needed to be asked for permission for you to do something. Mad at you because you couldn’t see how tight his heart became at the thought of you in someone else’s arms, dancing in a room full of vipers.
Half of the citizens of that rotten place had been tortured by Azriel at some point, and the other half had been gently tortured. He trusted Rhysand’s glamour to hide your bonded scent, but his rebel heart seemed to think otherwise.
For a while, he watched you work in silence, hands working your own particular magic with common ingredients. The fire eventually left his soul and he felt guilty enough to leave his spot. When you set the last trail in the oven, he took advantage of the vulnerable position and wrapped himself around you.
His wings created a small cocoon for the two of you, light barely seeping through the thick membrane.
“I’m sorry for being an overbearing mate” he apologized against your earlobe, letting his warm breath make you squirm. “You’re amazing and brave and you can handle everything you want, but I worry because I love you”
“And I’m also too smart and beautiful for your own good” you scoffed when one of his hands sneaked beneath your apron. “We’re gonna burn those cookies”
“Won’t the only thing burning for you tonight”
You bursted in a loud laugh and the rest of his anger faded away, giving up space for the usual love and adoration for you. In his arms, he could hear your heartbeat, smell the faint remains of vanilla from the previous muffins and your shampoo.
Azriel pushed you farther into his arms, and you didn’t complain. One of his arms was settled on your waist, under your apron but with no further intentions. The other one crossed your chest, and you gripped his forearm between your hands.
He was all hard muscles and soft skin. Even under his usual leathers, you could feel the familiar outlines of his arm. You looked up from his chest and saved the height different when you locked your eyes with him. From upside down, he was just as beautiful as ever.
His lips curved into an apologetic smile, although you were certain it wouldn’t be the last time you heard from it. Azriel was just a little less stubborn than you.
“I forgive you on one condition. You don’t bring it up to Rhys anymore. He already feels bad about it, you don’t have to remind him” you gently reprimanded him. “If he could, he would have searched for other solution. And I’m happy to help”
“You’re happy here, but down there it’s horrifying. And Rhysand and Hewn City can fuck – “
“Besides, I like doing things with you. From your other life”
Azriel’s life as the shadowsinger, as the spymaster, was still a bit hidden to you. You had gotten him to open up little by little, and he had shared some details that had you almost regretting your decision. But it was true that, besides doing Rhysand a favor, you wanted to do it with Azriel. Watch him work and be that tough male everyone feared.
That point made him roll his eyes and drop the matter with a brief kiss to your nose. He captured it between his teeth and playfully bit you, which earned him a swift elbow to his groin. Azriel teared apart just in time for the next customer to arrive.
With a sharp look that promised worst thing than an elbow, you left him in charge of the cookies and went to the front door.
-
Azriel hadn’t been allowed to see you before he big night. He had tried, but had received an arguable reason – that he would leave his smell all over you. As if he was a teen with hormone problems that couldn’t control himself. He was still fuming about it as he waited in silence by the throne, still pouting but intimidating.
His shadows were scattered all over the room, and he was purposefully ignoring Cassian’s warning glances. The last thing he could do to show his discomfort was terrorize a little their guests.
Rhysand had been introducing you in the dinner hall, where he hadn’t been allowed in. For centuries, the rules had kept Illyrian out of the finest and most elegant parts of the city, and it was one of the few rules he liked. He avoided pointless and tedious conversations waiting in the throne room.
“I bet Rhys he would wear line for a week you won’t last more than five dances” Cassian muttered under his breath, not looking away from the early guests. “Mor placed it at two”
“Glad my discomfort brings you joy, Cassian” he replied. “I plan to endure the whole night, if only for your troubles. What did Rhys bet?”
“Sex ban for a week”
Azriel rolled his eyes and finished the conversation. He was in for a long night, and he would try to endure it for you. Because you had looked so excited to be part of the plot, so bright and happy, he would never smudge that out.
The remains of your smile warmed his heart, and he relaxed a bit. You had been sitting right by his side as Rhysand went over the last details the previous night, listening to him like a hawk. Where you needed to dance, opposite from the entrance. Who you needed to charm or avoid, what you needed to act like.
He hated all of that, but he couldn’t deny that it made you happy. And whatever made you happy was worthy. The part he couldn’t stand was his absence during the grand dinner, during your introduction. It would raise many suspicions since Azriel never accompanied Rhysand there, therefore he had to wait at his usual spot.
Rotten on the spot with unusual nerves and doubts, he listened with trepidation the incoming steps.
“Don’t make me lose the bet. You don’t want to see me in a sex ban. Or Nesta” his brother announced quickly before the big doors opened.
“Shut up” Azriel hissed.
“A fair warning”
Rhysand walked in with cold indifference, Feyre walking by his side like the queen she was. His high-lord deemed worth the risk shoot him a warning glance, and Azriel thanked him, because it half-prepared him.
You walked right behind them, talking softly with Mor, and you were stunning. Beautiful. Bright. Radiant beyond the stars.
Azriel found the simplicity of your bakery uniform charming and perfect. The constant stains on your clothes, the sunny dresses you wore for your dates. Even training clothes made him stare longingly.
The dress you were wearing was long and dark, hugging all your curves and letting your left leg at plain sight. The cleavage lowered down to your waist, so low he could see the burnt scar you had gotten when you started your bakery. It showed your shoulders, your arms covered by a transparent, thin sheet of stars and bright dots. Azriel was glad he got a moment to digest the sight before seeing your exposed back.
You were so beautiful he stopped breathing, that he lowered his guard for the first time in that place. Someone could have tried to assassinate him from the front and he wouldn’t have seen them coming. Not when you were looking like a dream come true.
Rhysand was by his side before he could tear his eyes away from you, Feyre on his right.
“You may dance and drink and do whatever you like tonight” Rhysand motioned with a vague hand around. “But kneel first at your majesties”
“Lower” Cassian roared when only their heads lowered.
They all fell to their knees, as you and Mor watched by the side. While all their eyes were fixed on the ground, you looked at Azriel for the first time. He tugged frantically on the bond, proving Cassian wrong and behaving exactly like a hormonal teenager. You pulled back with a small smile – so small, so hesitant, that Azriel frowned.
It was different from the radiant one you had gifted him so many times during the last days.
He didn’t have to bother looking at Rhysand to have him speaking mind to mind.
“It’s her first time, she’s just nervous” his voice broke through the mental barriers, wary and full of concern. Azriel forced himself to look away from you, for your safety and his.
“What happened?”
“Nothing”
Rhysand knew him well enough to know he didn’t believe his answer, so he was met with flash of images of the previous dinner. How you had been introduced under predatory eyes, how your smile had died down a bit at the darkness and the coldness in their stares. Azriel’s whole body became alert as he watched through Rhysand’s eyes the dinner, no one daring to come close to you.
It would be different now, he knew, so he steeled his nerves as the first fae rose his head.
They rose up one by one, and when Rhysand just kept mumbling something in Feyre’s ears, they deemed safe to start moving. Music started playing and males started looking for the company of women. Azriel’s neck vein pulsed painfully when a lesser fae walked up to you and Mor, asking for your hand.
From up there, he could smell your hesitance. You would follow the plan, as Mor stepped out with a small vow, Nesta nowhere in side. Feyre would leave shortly too, and you would only have to stay there until they came back. But Azriel had to remind himself to breath when you were taken to the dance floor by another male.
He had to give it to the first one – he was respectful enough to keep his hands your waist and not lower them. Azriel felt his power roaring inside him the whole time, and he couldn’t help but stain his ears to listen to the conversation.
Through the dances you granted, he did that, ignoring the rest of the world and looking without seeing through the room.
You’re beautiful, how is it we haven’t seen you around earlier?
I have a son, he has lands and power. Would you like to know him?
I was hoping to catch you all night. What is such a sweet flower like you doing here?
You smell nice, unbonded
Rumors say you are an unmarried female. Such a pity
The comments grew more unfortunate the longer the night went. Rhysand power was gently holding him in place, reminding him the importance of giving the girls time. The High lord was looking too much at you, for his sake, so they wouldn’t notice Azriel acting like a boiling bull next to him.
And that started to draw unwanted attention, the notice of his High Lord staring at a woman. You were nothing like the female that had walked hours ago into the ballroom. Once you had seen what Hewn City was, what your mate had to work with, you were withering away – and Azriel noticed.
Azriel was seeing every drop of your smile, every muscle you tensed. Blood dripped to the ground behind him from how hard he was clenching his fists. His shadows curled in the edges of the room impatient, ready to attack. He broke every bet they had and then the last male walked up to you.
“May I have this dance?” Keir asked as you were dropped by your last companion. “You are hard to catch, my dear”
You brushed off the last feeling of discomfort from hands on you, all night, and tried to think quick. He had been one of the few males Rhysand had warned you to stay away from, but he had scared off any other options. And your friends weren’t back yet.
“I was hoping for a break” you tried to seem confident. “Sit this one out”
“Pretty things like you shouldn’t be sitting”
You bit your inner cheek, regretting the help you had offered. You had been regretting since you had stepped in the hall, and you had met Azriel’s eyes. The way they shone with worry and concern, the desperate tug on the bond. He had warned you and you felt foolish, because you thought you could handle it.
There were reasons in fate why you worked in a quiet bakery and he spent his life in dungeons.
“Shouldn’t have dance with every male in this room if you’re gonna get scared now” he chuckled, all void and dark. It made the hairs of your arms raise. “I won’t bite. Not too hard”
Apparently out of options, you accepted his hand and kept a straight face when he pulled you closer. If you were honest, you were too close to crying. Your feet hurt, your heart was pounding way too loudly against your chest and you had been touched way too many times. Every inch of your body felt dirty and wrong, and Keir certainly had big hands.
You had avoided Azriel’s eyes all night. You knew Rhysand was looking out for you, maybe to draw attention away from your mate. But that had made more males, the worst type it seemed, to become interested in you.
Keir was the last of a long list you had endured so far. He shamelessly inhaled when he pulled you closer, his nose brushing the space between your shoulder and neck. You convinced yourself it was his nose, not his lips, that traced your pulse point.
“You smell divine. So sweet” he commented, keeping you close to his body. “Have you been taken yet, dear? Has a male unfiled you?”
“That’s not a question I want to answer” you complained. You weren’t sounding confident at all, not with his hand pressing against your waist. It sounded more like another question itself.
“Oh, how I will like to see this city defile you. A little, sweet thing. Didn’t your mother warn you about wolves and rabbits?”
You kept quiet at his words, looking down at your moving feet. That way, he couldn’t see the way your expression broke. You noticed your lip quivering, your body trying to become smaller in his grasp. Just a dance, you reminded yourself. The heat of Azriel’s eyes was still present on your back, Rhysand glamour tight around you.
Keir’s shoes became blurry when your vision filled with tears. So desperately, you wanted to be home, with Azriel. You wanted Rhysand to never need you again, to have Keir moved to another continent along with the rest of that doomed city.
“I wonder if you’ll be as quiet in bed. How much will your father make me pay for you? Maybe we can arrange things for this week” Keir suddenly gripped the edge of your chin and made you look up, with a serious look on his cruel face. “Are you fertile, dear?”
The way he was speaking about you, his fingers gripping your face, was enough to make the first tear roll down. The male actually looked surprised at the sight, but once it had fallen, you couldn’t control yourself.
It could have been like that, you realized, if you hadn’t found Velaris. If Az wasn’t your mate, instead a male like Keir or someone worse. Your eyes searched desperately for him, without need to ask for help.
Azriel had reminded you many times that only one look and he would be right beside you, court matters dammed. He had made you say it out loud multiple times, had gotten you a small bargain tattoo on the back of your ankle. His eyes were already dark and troubled when you met them, his body ready.
He winnowed between shadows before anyone noticed, and then those same shadows were besides you. Keir’s fingers were ripped from you with a sickening crack, and you only saw Azriel’s fighting leathers. His rough hands tucking your face farther into his body, his shadows crawling up to your knees and calves.
They were cool against your sweaty skin, Azriel a calming and safe presence. Your face scrunched in a silent cry as you let your pent-up emotions consume you. You hugged him tight, not looking at the source of the screams.
“Scum” Azriel scoffed at the male in the ground, shooting Rhysand a warning glance.
“This is over. Forever”
“Azriel. They will know”
“Fuck you”
Rhysand could only witness in tense silence as Keir’s body tried to fight off Azriel’s shadows. Always so gentle around your body, they wrecked the male on the ground. They burnt his arms and snapped his fingers, squeezed his throat until his eyes budged. Azriel watched with murderous indifference as he held you trembling.
That was what he had wanted to tell you, to warn you about. You were capable of everything, you were brave and amazing. But that city was filled with trash and they could suck the life out of anyone.
“I want to go home” you whispered against his chest, your knees trembling.
“You have always been stupid, Keir, but you can always surprise me” Azriel growled, so primitive and feral that the room fell quiet. “Let’s see if you can quiet your screams tomorrow”
Feyre running out of one of the many doors was the last thing Azriel saw before winnowing you both away from Hewn City. He let his shadows hide you, but used his wings for good measure of protection.
In a few seconds, you were back in your apartment in Velaris, above your bakery, the sweet scent of summer nights filling the space. It no longer smelt like death and expensive perfume, like rotten flesh and arrogance. Azriel didn’t let you go as you squeezed his middle with a surprising force.
He knew what you needed without explanation. Carefully, he unlaced the dress on your back, his hands brushing any inch of skin those males had touched. Each trembling sigh, each tear he smelt on you, made him physically hurt to go back and kill them all. Pull at their limbs and hang them from their insides.
Rhysand would be hearing for him for a while, everyone in his family would. He squeezed his eyes shut as he listened to your whimpers, that stabbed into his heart like sharped knives. Azriel ripped the sleeves off your dress and could have burned it with the sheer force of his hate.
When you were finally standing with just your underwear, he allowed himself a moment of reassuring. Since the moment he had met your eyes, he was done for. The destiny of the world could have been in risk that he would have had still acted.
His hands were shaking too when he pulled your face away from his chest, cupping your cheeks. They were wet with tears, Keir’s fingers marked on your chin. He watched those beautiful eyes, that had shone at the idea of working with him, carry the burden of that night.
“I’m sorry” you whispered brokenly, your breath speeding up again. “I’m sorry I messed it up”
“You did perfect, darling. You did so good. So good” he assured you with passion, bringing your face closer to him until you couldn’t avoid his burning gaze. “They got out and you did perfect, but you won’t have to do it never again. I promise, Y/N, never”
You cried in his hands, and Azriel broke at the sight. What type of mate allowed their partner to go through that? To have strangers’ hands on them for hours? He hated himself a little bit more for that, but tried to hide it as he kissed your forehead.
He tangled his fingers between your locks as his lips lowered down your face. To your closed eyelids and wrinkles. Azriel kissed every tear, your nose, the edges of your pointed ears. He let his lips linger at the bruises on your chin, and found comfort at having Keir paying for them next morning.
Azriel ended up picking you between his arms, and carrying you to your room. It still held the remains of your excitement – scattered clothes close to the wardrobe, make-up products opened and half-used. He pointedly ignored them as he carefully dropped you in bed. Your arms didn’t unhook from his shoulders, and he didn’t complain.
“I hate them so much” he admitted in a whisper, close to your ear. “I hate them”
He had hated them since he was a child, had wanted to keep them away from you. He considered if moving to another continent with you was far enough, or if he would be forced eventually to kill them for breathing the same air. Those decisions would have to wait until the next morning.
Still on his leather clothes, Azriel let you lay on his chest and draped the sheet over your bodies. He ignored Rhysand’s talons against his mental shields, only hug you closer. He listened to every shaky breath of yours, caressed away with his thumb the last tears you shared.
“I’m sorry I doubted you” you said eventually, almost when Azriel thought you were asleep. Raising your head from his chest, you met his eyes. “You were right. I’m sorry”
“I wish I had been wrong. I… sometimes I wish it was different. That I worked in the Archives or owned a coffeeshop” Azriel talked just as quietly. “Then I could have you with me always. I hate my job, but I love my court. I love Velaris and I want it to be a safe place, so I gotta endure those things”
“I wish that was different too”
It was foolish to wish on things that couldn’t happen. Azriel would die before letting you close to that part of his life again. He wasn’t done by far with Hewn City or his own brothers, but that night he only held your naked body close. Every now and then, he would recall a certain moment of the night and remember the exact point a stranger’s hand had touched – Azriel would caress that same spot, feeling you hug him tighter.
Neither of you slept that night, and you didn’t open the bakery the next day. It took Azriel two days to be able to leave your presence without feeling the need to rip Rhysand’s head off his shoulder, five baths to erase the memories of those hands. Keir rotted in a cell, accompanied only by Azriel’s shadows, in the meantime.
Three days later, when Azriel came back to Hewn City after leaving you in the bakery, Keir couldn’t keep quiet.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!
I just wanted to share an idea with you so if you wabt, you could write it!
I was thinking in the same universe as bajer readerx azriel (i just love them so much 😭) where the batboys go on a mission where they huntike a big lord and a womanizer and they need a bait to catch him, SO reader offers to help bc no one knows her and every other woman in the grup is known in all Velaris. So reader offers to dance with him and like “seduce him” to another room so rhys cass and az can kill him, but azriel gets very angry for the way he treats you (like another of his wh0res), and ruins the plan. This lord realizes and threat them to kill reader.
I love angst and i love your writings so it would make me so happy. If you want to change anything its up to you! Also sorry for any mistakes 🫂
HELLO I'M FINALLY DOING THE REQUESTS. LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED WHEN THIS IS POSTED
So I love THIS SO MUCH SO MUCH SO MUUUUCH. Because I always read about badass reader who is Azriel equal in darkness and power. But what about innocent baker who thinks she can handle it, yet maybe she can't? I can't stop thinking about Azriel having to step in, because man has endurance as a stone.
I have it almost finished, it's gonna be quite long. Only thing I'm changing it's that reader doesn't have to seduce, just entratain a few men while the girls snoop around. And maybe the last part BUT DON'T WORRY THERE'LL BE PROTECTIVE AND MAD AND VIOLENT AZ
Beautiful and amazing @thehighladywrites posted this INCREDIBLE idea and I had to try it. I've never written a modern!acotar AU, a college!acotar AU or nerdy-tattooed!Azriel. I haven't written bimbo!reader, and since English is not my first language, I don't know if I have done it right. I enjoyed this sooooo much, let me know if you want more or have some requests!
Extra points for whoever gets the crescent city saga reference!
Plot: nerd-tattooed!Azriel gets a tattoo with your name and it leads to smutty time.
Warnings: porn and porn and Azriel being freaky and porn with just an inch of plot. This is dirty.
The door of the apartment closed behind your back and you were met with an empty living room. You usually didn’t come in unannounced, because Azriel’s shared apartment always had some type of surprise. But your boyfriend had asked you to do so, and to use the spare key he had given you a while ago.
Azriel had been studying for his finals for weeks, and had finally finished them. Instead of going out to celebrate like you had, he had stayed in with his friends. You hadn’t seen each other too much, apart from the long hours in the library where he tried to help you with your exams – and you didn’t count those hours, since you did nothing more than stare at him.
The apartment, as expected, was trashed. There were beer bottles in the ground, suspicious stains in the carpet and a very naked Cassian sleeping in the couch. You had just barely gotten out of your hangover, and Azriel’s roommate was about to start his.
Through all the chaos, you were certain none of it belonged to Azriel. He liked to party, sure, but not hard and long as you. He preferred to stay quiet and observe, with a drink that lasted him the whole night. You were trying to remember if the heel that poked through the back of the couch was from your friend when you heard him coming.
“This way, princess”
His deep, morning voice made you turn around and stumble to his presence. Like a serpent caught in a sweet melody, you were always pulled towards him. Azriel was wearing a grey t-shirt and black shorts, that fit him like a globe. Dark glasses and disheveled hair. And lots of tattoos that you had traced previously with your fingers and tongue.
“Hey, handsome” you greeted him, not hiding your bright smile. “Got your text this morning. What were you doing up so early?”
“Hit the gym before breakfast. Not all of us are hangover”
“Tell that to the other half of the campus or your roommates. Rhysand spent the night with Feyre in the rooftop”
Your roommate hadn’t appeared last night, and you had found a very cryptic text that morning that led you to the rooftop – where both her and Rhysand were fast asleep with the bottle still uncorked.
As soon as you were within reach, Azriel pulled you closer by your waist and smashed his lips against yours. He tasted like coffee and mint, and erased any trace of drunkenness from last night. You tangled your manicured fingers between his locks, shamefully scratching the nape of his neck with your long nails.
They differed from Azriel’s bitten ones. Your short dress from his baggy clothes, and your dyed hair from his untamed ones. While you liked to shine in the public, to dress up and party, Azriel preferred to be quiet, thrift clothes and study. To the campus, you were the bimbo, and he was the nerd.
But you were his bimbo and he was your nerd.
“How was the party?” Azriel asked between kisses, his lips not staying for too long on yours.
“Good. Missed you” you almost whined when he pulled back too soon, and he chuckled.
“Missed you too. Did you have fun?”
You hummed as his hands lowered until they cupped the edge of your ass. The dress was short enough he could pull it up until anyone could see your panties, but neither of you cared. He had to lean down to do so, and you took advantage to deepen the kiss.
On the outside, Azriel might have looked like the shy, nerdy student, but he was freaky. You had been surprised when a hook-up with your assigned tutor turned out in the best night of your life, and there was nothing that could unhook you from him.
His hands were big enough to squeeze most of your ass, kneading it just like you loved it. Roughly, you were pushed into his body. Azriel was always semi-hard when you came to view, and you always took care of choosing the shortest and most provocative dress in his presence.
Few things were better than a good night out and a good morning fucking.
“I’ve got a surprise for you. Can I take you to my room?”
“You don’t have to ask”
But he did, breaking away your heated kiss. Azriel pushed the bridge of his glasses up and gave you a crooked smile, offering you his hand. You gladly took it and let him guide you to his room. The farthest, the darkest, but also the neatest. Azriel spent a good part of his time in there, and you loved it. He had incorporated you slowly in it, from the spare clothes in his closet for you to the stupid crafts you did together when you were bored.
“And what did you do last night? Started studying for the next semester?” you teased him, and he gave you a sideway look.
“I could, but I was busy with Mor”
“What were you doing with Mor?”
Your frown was instant, as the jealousy that rose to your chest. Morrighan was his friend, and you respected that, but you knew he had liked her in the past. That the woman was gorgeous, brilliant and smart in ways you didn’t complement Azriel. You liked her enough to be kind and maybe envious, but the notice of her with Azriel left you with a sour taste in the mouth.
Azriel chuckled at the edge of your tone and didn’t answer. If anyone had reasons to be jealous, was him, yet he never was. You had quite the reputation in college, and dressed to impress. More than once, you had been walking with Azriel and received not so subtle glances. You had even gotten the barista’s number when you asked for his order. And through all of that, Azriel had just shrugged and told you he trusted you.
So, for his sake, you tried to do the same.
During the longest seconds in your life, you were quiet. You sat on his bed and crossed your arms across your chest. Azriel closed the door behind him, just as you heard the first groan from his roommate, and turned around so he could face you.
The height difference, the size difference, warmed you in every place of your body. Azriel loved the gym just as he loved his books, and there was not a part of his body that he didn’t work. You liked the difference, liked his big form and how it towered over you even standing. As you sat in silence, you bit the inside of your cheek to control yourself.
“We went to the tattoo parlor, since she knows the owner. I wanted something done” he watched your frown with diversion, and continued when you said nothing. “So, you can be jealous of her, who has a girlfriend now, but I’m supposed to be fine with guys drooling over you last night?”
“I didn’t look at them”
“I didn’t look at her” he answered back, and took off his tee.
The sleeveless piece of cloth didn’t hide much, but you still lost your breath when it hit the ground. His muscled, tattooed chest came to view, and that was enough to make you get up. It wasn’t Mor’s lips that had left marks two nights ago on his left shoulder, or who had bitten his pierced nipple until he had come into his pants in the library’s bathroom.
It was you who had caused the tent in his pant, that caused his eyes to darken when you stepped closer. You placed your hand over his right thigh, the muscles tightening underneath. His boner hit your stomach and you pushed yourself against it, opening your mouth to apologize, or maybe to suck the life out of him.
“Don’t you want to know what I got?” he asked, sounding on edge.
“I don’t understand half of your tattoos. Whatever you got is hot and perfect, just like you”
“Look down, princess” Azriel groaned when your nail touched his dick.
“On my knees?”
You were ready to do so, or let him bend you over the table. He could do with your body as he pleased, but you were caught off guard when you noticed the reddish, new ink wrapped in invisible paper. It looked delicate against the rest of his tattoos, new and beautiful. Right between his hips, where the dark trail of dark hair had just been removed, was a new tattoo.
In his v-line, that you licked and adored and stared at so much. With the nickname he had gifted you since he met you and the stupid, childless heart you drew on every notebook of his.
Princess ♡
Your breath came out shaky as you traced the letters with your finger. If it wasn’t for the make-up, you had so carefully put on that morning with a killing headache, you would have burst into tears. His own hand covered yours and helped you trace the missing letters, and the heart.
It should have been distracting to look at it while his dick demanded your attention inches lower, but you couldn’t look away. Not when you felt a hard clench on your heart that left you lightheaded.
“Do you like it?” it was a whisper in the dark room, a spark of doubt that made you look up.
How could you not like it, not like anything about such a perfect man? You nodded enthusiastically, your other hand searching blindly for his.
“Why did you get that?”
“Because I love you, and I want to carry you with me always” Azriel’s eyes were kind, and soft, and loving – and they were making you dizzy with desire.
“Did it hurt too much?” you asked, looking down again at the tattoo. You, who had smooth and unmarked skin, couldn’t phantom the pain of a nursing needle to draw blood. “It must have”
“Worth every second. Lay in bed, princess. I need to be between your legs”
He didn’t let you take the initiative and threw you on his bed with a quick move. Azriel towered over you for a second before kneeling between your already open, wide legs, and leaving his glasses on the. He smirked with no doubts as he pulled the hem of your dress over your panties. His fingers were rough, pressing hard enough to leave red marks on its way.
You only bit your lower lip when he rose your dress to your waist and sneaked his hand beneath, the edge of his fingers pressing over your breasts.
With the idea of that outcome, you hadn’t bothered with a bra, and his eyes darkened even more at the discovery. You watched his throat work around the new information as he rose his body higher, now covering your breasts with his hands. He squeezed them, keeping them trapped in his palms as he lowered where you needed him.
“I’m gonna erase all those looks from last night” he promised, hands retreating following your curved. “Whose got you this wet, hm?”
“Azzie, don’t be mean”
Azriel was in your hands the moment his nickname fell from your lips, and at your mercy when you used that whiney, flirty tone. He didn’t even bother taking off your panties – he tore them off. Like a sheet of paper, like a piece of cake. You moaned his name, and it came out like a yelp when he dug in without reservations.
His tongue was feral as he licked a long stripe between your entrance to your clit. He pressed it against your clit and actually trapped it between his teeth for a moment. The barrier between pain and pleasure was hard to tell when he snuck his hands under your ass and lifted you a few inches for him to devour.
“Love this so much” you spoke with a content smile, as he massaged your ass in silent appreciation. “Love you”
One of your hands reached to his hair, pushing his face closer to your center. He agreed and pushed one finger inside you. Your mind emptied when he began pumping it in and out, curling it just in the right spot before pulling out and replacing it with his tongue.
Cassian pounded on the wall and yelled at you to be quiet, and Azriel pounded back harder as a fuck you response. You didn’t have it in you to care about him as Azriel pulled you closer by the ass, your legs laying boneless against his wide back.
His nose brushed your clit, up and down, and you weren’t sure he could breathe from how passionate and hard he was eating you out. You called his name wordlessly, your mouth emitting only broken noises.
“So good for me, princess. My beautiful princess” his voice was guttural, so primal it made you lock his head between your legs. “Give me one, come on. Give me the first one so I can wreck you from behind”
“That sounds clinically dangerous!”
Azriel growled against your clit and parted your folds with his chin. He ran his lips through all of them, and by the time he pushed his finger back in, you were cumming on his face and screaming so loud his name you could have woken up the rest of the campus. He caressed your lower regions as you came down from your high, accompanying your orgasm with lazy, long stripes through your folds.
When Azriel came back up, his chin and mouth bright from your juices and his hair sticking in every direction, you were already ready for round two. He didn’t need to be told, and he rose leaving a trail of bites up your body.
He briefly stopped to leave two twin marks between your breasts, so round and perfect and purple you were squirming under him again.
“Azzie” it had been the only word you were capable of saying, and your mind cleared down for a second
“Was that good? Worthy princess treatment after a night out?” Azriel asked, leaving wet kisses on your neck.
“Perfect”
You hugged his back as he pulled himself above you, and your nails left angry, red marks across his lower waist. You pulled the band of his sport shorts and underwear down, and squeezed his hard ass just like he had been doing to yours. His dick sprung free with little effort, and he rubbed himself against your side as you caught your breath.
It wasn’t a one-time thing with Azriel, and you heard Cassian muttering about calling 911 before turning on the music. It took Azriel at least three of your orgasm to be content, and he could cum another three before he let you go. He always stopped, for your sake, when your legs couldn’t hold you up anymore and you had tears ruining your perfect make-up.
Few things turned him more on than being the cause of that ruined make-up.
Before he could empty your mind again, you quickly brought up the only coherent thought that kept pounding your head.
“I want your name too. On me”
“A tattoo?” he raised a brow.
Azriel didn’t stop rubbing himself slowly but tightly against your thigh. His hand was over your sore cunt, in a possessive manor he only showed inside the bedroom. At your petition, he pressed his finger tighter.
“Here. Between my breasts, with your name” you quickly explained. “I want Azzie between my breasts, so each time someone looks at me, he knows these are yours”
“You are mine”
None of your relationships had lasted as long or had been as deep. You were the type of girl who would have his ex-name tattooed, but truth was you were wary of tattoos, and Azriel knew that. He had tried to get you into a simple one, something he could draw for you and hold your hand through it.
His body was a map of ink and drawings, some of them goofy and some of them deep. He liked your innocent, smooth skin, but he found himself breathing harder at the thought of his name on your chest. Thinking of how many kisses, how many marks he would leave there every given moment.
Azriel recalled not a month ago pulling down your cleavage between classes to kiss your nipples sore, the hand he always sneaked to unclasp your bra and touch you beneath the lace. His name, the nickname that brought him to his knees, decorating that skin.
“Are you sure?” he didn’t want to get his hopes up, not when he was ready to tattoo you himself right then and there. With Cassian playing loud classical music in the next room.
“And a crown drawn by you on the top” you rose a teasing eyebrow at his lack of movement, given the discussion for finished. “Are you going to wreck me from behind or do I have to ask Cassian for help?”
Azriel broke into a loud laugh before smacking your cunt loudly, then manhandling you around. With his left arm holding you by your waist, he pressed himself against your back. His dick brushed all the right spots between your bodies, but your hands were trapped under you and you couldn’t touch him.
Complaining would only make him take out those beautiful handcuffs you knew he owned so you only bit your lip and whined like the good girl you were for him.
“I’m gonna tattoo my name between your breasts, if that’s what you want” he whispered against your ear, his other hand appearing around your throat. “I love you so much, princess. So fucking much”
Azriel squeezed your throat at the same time he entered you with a rough, only thrust. It avoided the moan that died in your chest, that had you rolling back your eyes in pleasure. It didn’t stop Azriel from moaning your name out loud, loud enough for Cassian to turn up the stupid music.
The headboard banged against the wall and his glasses fell to the ground, as he left you no room to breathe, to recover. Maybe he had managed to shut you down, but he was doing nothing about his own sounds. You were vaguely aware of Cassian slamming the door of the apartment after screaming some profanities, but you didn’t acknowledge him.
Not when Azriel seemed to be trying to tattoo his name deep into your body and soul.
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could i request azriel with t (time) from your angst alphabet?
T for Time: you're ill and you don't have much time together, from my Angst Alphabet
Since I don't think fae can get ill, I changed this a little bit. This is sad and heartbreaking and please forgive me. Send in your requests if you have them!
Warning: pregnancy gone wrong, death during labor, descriptions of pregnancy injuries.
Time you take for granted - Azriel
2nd month
The night had brought an intense rain over Velaris, that had soaked the streets and threatened its villagers into their houses. Even cats and dogs had found shelter between the containers and hallways. Fires burned in almost every home, families laughing around it and sharing stories about their days.
Azriel could only guess their days had been better than his, than yours. There was no fire in your house that night, and he wouldn’t be lighting one. Not when darkness helped him disguise the terror stuck in his face, the tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.
“We will have to talk about this, my love. Eventually” you broke the silence from your sitting place in bed, across from his couch. “You can’t close off”
He had been doing that since you two received the news hours away, when the sun still warmed the streets. When he thought his life was at his peak, with a loving mate who walked wrapped around his left arm.
He could do that for a little bit longer. Pretend Madja had just sent you off with some medical prescriptions for the nausea and two weeks leave for your job. Pretend Rhysand would grimace but allow him to disappear those two weeks with you.
“Please, Az. I’m scared too. I don’t want to do this alone” your voice sounded too at the brim of panic. “I need you”
Those words made him look up from the stain of the carpet. Azriel had been sitting in the couch, quiet and unmoving, for a long hour. Enough time to process the information, the fears and doubts. He guessed that was enough time for him, given the news were mainly about and for you.
It wasn’t about him.
Azriel rose up and took the few steps that separated you. The bed dipped under his weight, and you shifted until one of your legs was on his lap. Until you could wrap both your arms around his own and make sure he wouldn’t leave. He tried to give you a comforting smile, that came out crooked.
“I know we weren’t planning this. But it could be good. We can’t be sure it’ll be a problem, Madja can be wrong. She even said there’s a long way to go” you assured him.
“What about not starting it?” Azriel proposed for the first time, his fears getting the best out of him. “It can be a problem. We know how hard it was for Feyre and for Nyx, maybe we should… contemplate other options”
“No, Az. We’re going to have a baby. And it’s going to be alright”
Azriel would remember your determination for days, the confidence in your words watering down his worries and Madja’s warnings about a pregnancy in a non-winged female. He found in them the excitement to share the news with his family, to go through that first month by your side with an easy smile.
He even allowed himself to believe that his life was about to get better. Azriel let your words and confidence become his, and ignored the bad feeling in his gut.
3rd month
“What do you think it will be? A boy or a girl?”
Azriel didn’t bother looking at you, not when his whole body was touching some part of yours. You were laying in his arms looking up the sky, both your hands wrapped around your middle. Where, shortly, you would start showing signs of your pregnancy.
It was a sunny day, and the memory of the announcement and Madja’s words were far away. You had decided to have a picnic in the mountains. It was cold, and windy, yet looking up at the morning sky with his mate safe between his arms was beyond weather problems.
He thought about your question for a second, trying to decide what he wanted more. Cassian was a girls’ dad, and he wouldn’t stop trying for one until Nesta and him had at least three. Rhysand, though, liked to dress baby Nyx in the finest clothes and buy him the most elegant little-bowties.
“I don’t care. I just hope they look like you” he smiled against your nose that brushed his neck. “That they have ten little toes. Ten tiny fingers. Pointy ears. A button nose”
“Glad you want a baby and not a dog”
He chuckled and you laughed with him, and he was happy. Azriel hummed softly, with the certainty that he didn’t care about the gender. Either boy or girl would have him wrapped around their pinky – he or she already had, given the amount of stupid baby stuff he had bought in just one month.
Your face appeared and broke his thoughts apart. Pregnancy seemed to make you glow, not only your scent sweetened but your face brightened. Your cheeks were rosy from the cold, and while your head was covered with a thick hat, some locks fell over his face and ticked his nose.
He scrunched it and tried to brush them away.
Leaning down, you captured his lips on a kiss and his hands tightened on your waist. He let himself relax under your, years of training and feeling unsafe gone when you were in his arms. The kiss was slow, your lips moving against his lazily. Both your noses nuzzled each other, and you squirmed with a soft chuckle when he pressed his fingers against your ribs.
“I love you” you whispered against his mouth, not opening your eyes.
“I love you more. Both of you”
Azriel let his hands explore every inch of your body in that forgotten mountain, let his heart roar in happiness when you broke away and stared into his eyes with so much love his bones threatened to melt.
He pushed the lasts of his worries away before kissing you.
4th month
It wasn’t unusual for you to find your place on Azriel’s lap. He never complained about it, but lately he found a particular joy in it. With your bump showing, he could have both his worlds close to his soul.
You were just in that position when the first worrying question came through. After a game night where you had lost three times, you had declined the next round. Azriel was playfully biting your earlobe, loving how you squirmed on his lap. He couldn’t help the growing hardness in his pants, and like a growing teenager, found himself pushing you to move more.
He was minutes away from dragging you both to your rooms when he caught on the conversation between you and Feyre.
“It must be wonderful, knowing you’re so close to the third trimester” Feyre was saying, ignoring her own mate’s hand trying to sneak under her dress. “How is the nausea going? Mine never left”
“I’m doing fine now, at least I can have breakfast and keep it inside” you shifted in his lap when Azriel ran his tongue through your pulse point. “The worst part are the clothes. I can’t keep anything for more than a few weeks”
“I had a whole new wardrobe by the time I had that belly” she pointed with her chin to your bulge. “The sixth month is hard”
“I’m… it’s been four. Not six”
You smiled at her with innocence, but the whole room fell quiet and your smile dropped. Feyre’s own face paled a little as she looked at your belly. Looking down, you wondered what they saw that made them fell silent. You weren’t a big person, compared to fae’s and coming from the continent, where your kind were shorter than other people.
And sure, the belly looked big on you. But you were pregnant, and you thought that was normal.
Azriel tensed under you and, for the first time in two months, realized that your pregnancy was looking a little too different from Feyre’s. He always kept track on details, on things people didn’t usually notice. And when Feyre mentioned, he realized that you were far bigger.
His arousal and joy died down when he felt a rush of fear down the bond. It was normal, right? Different people, different pregnancies. Azriel was bigger than Rhysand, taller and broader, and his wings were certainly wider too.
Feyre ended up dismissing the mistake with a hesitant smile, and Morgan chipped in to ask for more wine. The conversation returned shortly after, but that time, there were no playful bites or kisses. You leaned back farther into his embrace and he let his shadows caress your hair, your belly, your fingers. Anything to erase the first spec of worry in that beautiful journey.
5th month
The news were hard to digest, and that time, Azriel didn’t let your cheerful words dig in. He smiled at your excitement, he held you as you jumped in joy and gleamed with the new information. Azriel didn’t say anything until you were asleep in bed, laying on your back with your belly on display.
Only when he was sure you wouldn’t wake up, he winnowed away to Rhysand’s office, when he and Cassian were already waiting for him. They both wore worried faces, and perked up at his presence. After all, it had been him who had asked them to meet him.
Azriel needed to share his worries, to acknowledge the risk, and he couldn’t do it with you, not when the pregnancy pains were already taking a toll on your days.
“Madja admitted she’s indeed too big for only five months. That she looks ready to give birth, not to be halfway a pregnancy” Azriel said, slumping down on the comfy chair. He rested his elbows on his knees and hid his face. He was exhausted. “We’re… having twins. A boy and a girl”
“That’s good news, Az. A son and a daughter”
Cassian’s words did nothing to subdue his worries. He tugged at the end of his hair, not knowing what else to say. Madja’s face had said it all – the tightness of her shoulders, the paleness in her face, the shakiness in her hands. Fae pregnancies were already rare, but twins? Azriel didn’t know any twins, let alone whose mother wasn’t winger and whose father was.
Madja had asked you to see her each week. She had sent you into mandatory rest for the rest of your pregnancy, and Azriel wouldn’t be leaving your side for that time. It wasn’t his job that worried him. Not even his training. If staying with you meant everything would be okay, he wouldn’t sleep nor blink.
“What about… other options?” Rhysand proposed, earning a wary look from Cassian.
“She doesn’t want to hear about them. Shuts down when she sees me coming. Since Feyre’s comment on her size, I’ve been testing the waters” he felts his eyes water at your negative. “Y/N wants to continue the pregnancy and I don’t know what to do anymore”
“It doesn’t have to go wrong, brother” Cassian knelt on his right and squeezed his forearm. Rhysand’s hand fell on his shoulders. “You can get through this, she’s a strong female. Don’t think the worst yet”
“I’m afraid”
Those words were the last thing Azriel said before breaking down in front of his brothers. He would be strong for you, would offer you kind words and support when you needed him because he had to. But he let himself drown in anguish at the bad feeling of his gut that was coming alive little by little.
That night, Azriel let his brother hug him and soaked into his fake comforts. There was nothing any of them could do about it, yet they tried to believe against it. When he went back home, he dried his tears and laid down in time to watch you wake up, a sleepy grin on his face.
Azriel repeated that routine many times in the months to come.
6th month
Entering the third trimester brought along the first problems.
Azriel didn’t let you get out of bed without him, only allowing what Madja called ‘stretching your legs for circulations’. You complained and complained until Azriel threatened to shut you up with a gag, and that led to other activities.
Through all of it, Azriel held himself back and refused to bury himself where he needed. Instead, he let his hands and mouth do all the work gladly. You slept soundly after that, and as Azriel followed you with a content sigh, he should have guessed it was too good to be true.
He was a light sleeper, so he couldn’t understand why he only woke up at the sound of muffled sobs in the bathroom. Sheets got tangled between his legs as he ran out of bed, crawling to you while his left foot dragged the whole night cloth with him.
You were sitting in the toilet with your nightgown bundled around your belly, now large enough to make you wobbly while walking. With a fist against your mouth, you cried desperately and looked between your legs, down to the toilet. Azriel didn’t need to feel the bond to know you were panicking and in pain.
“What’s wrong?” he hoisted himself up and stumbled down on his knees in front of you, until you met his widened eyes. “What’s wrong? Where does it hurt?”
“I peed” you managed to hiccup against your closed fist. “I peed”
“You peed?”
You peed all the time. In the toilet, in the kitchen, in bed. He had found himself used to waking up with warm sheets, because you couldn’t make it to the bathroom. With two babies pushing your bladder constantly, he refused to let you feel embarrassed or clean the sheets.
Pee was normal, yet your face screamed at him with an urgency he couldn’t understand, that his soul was roaring for. His hands were uselessly trying to fight an enemy he couldn’t protect you from, that his power couldn’t destroy.
“I peed blood” you admitted quietly, looking down the toilet again.
Azriel followed your gaze and watched the few spots of blood inside the toilet. Inside, a reddish liquid lay. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of you bleeding, of you being hurt. His body went on autopilot as he gathered paper and cleaned you softly.
As you leaned against the wall, he gladly inspected for the origin of the bleeding. Madja had assured you that it was normal a little bleeding, but he listened to his inner voice and kept looking.
You ended up calming down in his arms, as he guided you back to bed with the promise of calling for Madja in the morning.
He tried to convince himself it was normal, as Madja had said. As you tried to tell him while you fell asleep, for your and his sake.
Azriel didn’t believe it, and didn’t sleep that night. When next morning you peed blood again, he just winnowed you to the clinic.
7th month
Madja’s words haunted him for days, and he only slept when he fell unconscious. If he wasn’t unconscious, he stared at you for hours or cried to his brothers more often than not. They were his support, his lifeline, and he was yours.
One winged baby was enough to cause damage to a winged-mother, threatening her life on a normal basis. One winged baby could kill a non-winged mother any day, during labor or during the pregnancy.
Two winged babies on a non-winged mother were tearing your body apart.
One of the talons had ripped through the womb and into your bladder, causing a small tear. Madja had fixed it, yet had deemed appropriate to move into your house and be within reach for the next occasions.
“There might not be any other problems, but just in case I want to be close” she announced, looking into both your eyes to make sure you understood. “We’ve been lucky the talons are still small. But they’re growing”
Two days after the first tear, the same talon reopened the same wound. You peed blood and Azriel held you close as Madja healed you, his own breaths coming in pants at your pain.
She took the decision to try and move the babies a little, which put you in so much pain that you broke two of Azriel’s fingers from squeezing his hand. He didn’t say anything as he switched hands.
That solution was temporary, as a week later, you puked blood. The other baby’s talon had caused an internal injury, and in just two days not even Madja’s protection was enough to keep the bruises off your belly.
Your huge, bruised belly that Azriel caressed every night along with your face.
“Please” he begged you with tears in his eyes, ignoring the pain he was causing you at his petition – he had to, when you suffered every breathing minute. “Please, consider it. I don’t want to lose you”
“There’s a chance they’ll make it, Az. I can’t ignore that chance”
“I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t – You’re –“
His words always died down in sobs, and during that month, he wasn’t strong enough to leave to his brothers’ embrace. Azriel broke down in your arms, laying on your collarbone as he begged you to end the pregnancy, to ensure your life while you still could. Maybe you weren’t linked like Feyre and Rhysand were, but if you died, Azriel was sure he would too.
You didn’t change your answer, and he still begged every night.
8th month
Your body was too small, to fragile.
He watched his own children drain the life out of you, but he couldn’t hate anyone but himself. Hate his choices, his brief hopes that had made him careless and put you in that situation. There were no longer walks or laughs, just your body in a bed, with Madja by your side more often than not.
Azriel too was always by your side, so when it happened, he was there.
There was no way of knowing if it was the own weight of the babies, the lack of your strength or one wrong move. One moment you were leaning against him to reach the bathroom and the other you were screaming in pain as your knees buckled. He heard as part of your spine gave up under the weight, as you crumbled down.
Madja and the other healer were by your side in a second, pushing your body to the bed and yelling at him to move.
Azriel couldn’t.
Azriel listened to each and every cry that left your lips, smelt every tear that licked your cheeks, and felt every nail mark you left on his forearm. He didn’t bother begging or crying, he wouldn’t let his emotions leave its cage because then he would be gone too. He would be so far away no one would ever reach him, and you needed him.
Feyre’s presence was just a memory on the edge of his vision, the kind woman in charge of emitting those pointless comfort words he couldn’t get out. Azriel whined when your spine was put back together by four, five, or six healers.
He didn’t need to ask what would happen now, or why they had long faces. He didn’t have to try and change your mind, as you wouldn’t move. He only let another anguish cry.
Until birth, my lady. We can hold it until birth.
9th month
Azriel didn’t register the blood on his face. Maybe it was his, from how hard he had dug his nails against his face. How he had wanted to rip himself apart, and had almost done it. Maybe it was from Cassian, who had tried to avoid his brother entering the birth room. Or from you.
His throat was raw, there was no voice coming out of him. And his clothes were soaked. With tears, with sweat, with blood. With his own sick, that he had thrown over himself.
The sky had opened to cry with him that night, it seemed. Azriel would have been soaking wet if it wasn’t for the roof above his head. He didn’t know which roof it was, where he was. How had they gotten him out of the room once your heart stopped beating.
Once Madja stepped away from your broken body, blood still seeping to the floor. He could still hear the phantom of his own voice before your eyes rolled back. There was no point in trying, in begging, so he had just been there. Holding your body, praising you, swapping the sweaty hair out of your face.
I love you
You’re doing good, I love you
My beautiful mate, I love
How you’ve changed my life, I love you
I love you
He had cried the words but had made sure you had heard each one of them, because for nine months, he had known those would be the last thing you heard.
A rebel tear rolled down his cheek, down his jaw and the column of his neck. Another one hit the bundle, the tiny sweet bundle, that rested in his arms. He had been holding his daughter for three hours, and he wouldn’t be moving for a while.
Azriel stared at the only survivor of the birth, a baby-girl with floppy wings. With then little toes and ten little fingers. With pointy ears and a button nose. He couldn’t say yet if she looked like you or not, if she had your eyes or hair.
What she had, was the stubborn soul of her mother. She had survived the birth while her brother had died with you. Had survived being smaller than her death brother, who took most of the space. Had survived the first hours which Madja had said would be crucial.
He didn’t have more tears to share or more feelings to break over. Azriel felt void, vacant, like the part of his soul had been ripped. He wasn’t sure he was even alive, only the weight on his arms the constant reminder.
The rain hit the windows with an enormous strength, but the baby didn’t notice. She kept sleeping soundly in her father’s arms, unaware of the world she had just entered. Azriel had enough strength to stagger back to the couch before breaking down in a silent cry that shook his body.
The baby still didn’t stir.
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Hiii I absolutely adore your fics! Especially the angst 😭😭
I was wondering if you could you write something super angsty about when Az comes back from the dungeons after torture and he just looks so... broken.
Y/n (his mate) first comforts him, ofc, but then she's so pissed at Rhys for making Azzy do this that she goes to pick a fight with him. Maybe even the others have to step in after the fight starts to get physical...
You asked for angst and you shall recieve! I kind of imagine Azriel being quite closed off about his missions, so I hope I made this right! Feel free to make more requests, and thank you for your kind words!
Warnings: mentions of violence against children and their death, kind of mean!Rhys but not cruel nor hateful, just a bit dumb. Not a hate Rhysand fic.
Breaking point - Azriel
The fire had already died down, and the dinner was cold. You had spent half of your afternoon cooking, and the other half choosing your best dress. The one that kept Azriel’s eyes captured all night, that seemed to be a magnet for his hands.
It was rare to have a night for the two of you, between his work and yours as an emissary. It was rare to have him accept that night without responsibilities, but lately you always found some excuse to be together. Not mated for too long, Azriel found himself drifting away from his work to your presence.
That wasn’t the case that night.
You stared at the last candle as the fire consumed it, minutes away from turning off. Azriel had closed his side of the bond early in the morning, before you started your shift, but you tugged at it once more. Briefly, softly, tired of hours of waiting with no result.
Part of you wondered if dating the shadowsinger would be always like that. You had never complained about him his work before you, but that night was starting to feel too long.
The brief rush of air from the door being opened turned the candle off, and you turned around with a scowl ready. Your high-heels laid forgotten next to the door, and that would have been enough other times to make Azriel feel bad.
But you watched as Azriel left his own shoes next to yours without saying anything, his shoulders tense and his wings dropped.
“Az” you stared, squinting your eyes to see in the darkness of the night. “Is that blood?”
“Not mine”
His answer was harsh, like the edges of his body. Once your eyesight accommodated to the dark, your discovered that there was indeed blood. Not only the smudge on his neck that you had seen, but also on his clothes. On his wings, dripping to the floor. Dried on his shoes, that had left a few prints on the wooden floor. His hands seemed too crusted with it.
You rose from the chair and he looked at you. His face already looked crestfallen, but after noticing your dress and the dinner table, slumped more. Azriel must have forgotten about the dinner, the date and everything else. You didn’t usually talk about the details of his job, yet you gathered it took a stroll on him most of the days.
Going against every fiber of your body that had been angry minutes ago, you walked towards him barefoot.
“I’m sorry” he sighed, turning around to hang his coat. “Lost track of the time down there. I… forgot”
“It’s fine, I wasn’t sure food was edible. It did smell weird” you tried to change the mood, but he didn’t look at you. “Everything okay? That’s a lot of blood”
“Not mine” he repeated. “It’s been… complicated. Do you mind if I take a shower? We can reheat dinner and eat in the couch. I’m sure we can savage something”
“Sure. There are some leftovers from yesterday”
Azriel was a tough male, and hated to talk about his feelings. You had learned that through hard years of friendship where he didn’t let on any feelings towards you, just cold indifference. Being mated changed some things, but other stayed the same.
It would have been a mistake to try and drag answer out of him, so you let him get away to the shower. He gave you a tense smile and walked out, ignoring the worried glance you casted.
Sounds of clothes hitting the floor filled the silent apartment. You doubted what would be best, if talk to him or leave him alone. Maybe he wanted to be alone, you tried, because he hadn’t asked for your presence. Shared showers were common in your household, but not that time. Biting your lip, you considered what to do until you heard the soft brush of his wings against the tiles of the bathroom.
Azriel wouldn’t be dragging his wings through the floor if he wasn’t devastated.
Fae hearing and smell weren’t a good ally to surprising people, so he didn’t say anything when you closed the bathroom door behind you and undressed. His bulky form took almost all the space, shadows gathering close to the sink and on every corner of the small bathroom.
They brushed against your feet when you pushed the curtain aside and squeezed yourself between him and the wall. There was no way of knowing if those were tears or drops of water on his cheeks, but he still smiled at you.
“Maybe we should wait until tomorrow” he tried, his voice sounding vacant. “I’m not feeling like it right now”
“It’s the first and last time you’ll hear me say this, but I’m not thinking about that right now. Do you want to talk about it?”
“About me not wanting – “
“About today, love. I’m right here if you want to talk” you wrapped your arms around his chest, staring up at him. “Maybe it’ll feel better if you let it out”
“Doubt it”
Azriel was a head taller than you, bigger in every aspect, but your eyes still bored into him. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and his left wing twitched. It was unusual for you to have his naked form so close and do nothing about it, for him to have his favorite parts of you within reach and do nothing.
But that night you weren’t thinking about any of it as his breath shuddered for the first time since you had known him, as composure seemed to crack a little.
His face was pure anguish for a moment, all pain, devastation and sorrow. Every feeling he had comforted you through broke through his face at once. Drops of water fell from his soaked hair, that covered most of his forehead. There was no way of knowing if those were tears of just water, but there was a suspicious salty scent on the air.
“I want to be here for you, but you have to let me” you assured him, squeezing him tighter in your arms. A primal need was born in you to keep him whole, to be the glue to his broken pieces.
“It’s not something you want to hear”
“Nothing you can tell me will make me love you less, or see you different. I already love every part of you”
“Not this part” his voice sounded tight, desperate, as he made eye-contact with you.
“That’s for me to decide, Az, and I’ve already decided. What’s the matter?”
Azriel still seemed to doubt for a second. His hand searched for the back of your hair and he tugged at it aimlessly. He tangled his fingers, now clean of blood, between your soaked locks. As if the words he was about to say would break him in two, he was steadying himself against the wall with his free hand.
Maybe they were, you thought. Azriel never shared his feelings with you. He was a closed person that barely let you inside his heart as his own mate, but you were okay with that. You would give him time, every minute and second he needed, until he was comfortable with giving you his heart.
That moment seemed important enough to deserve a short pause. Azriel’s throat worked around the words, his heart speeding.
“There is a man, in the mountains. He owns a cabin deep in the forest, at least ten miles away from the nearest civilization post. Rhysand has been keeping tabs on him for a while, for some… suspicious activities”
“What activities?”
“Children. Going missing” he explained briefly, avoiding the further explanation. Him sharing something about his life outside you and your family was enough though. “It’s been going on for a while. Devlon’s daughter was between the missing ones, so the camp lord finally demanded something to be done about it”
“And you were the one to do it”
You kept your annoyance to yourself, your thoughts about Rhysand using your mate as his personal guard dog. You might love Rhysand as your High Lord and friend, but the things he made Azriel do were enough to keep your distance from him sometimes.
That time, you braced yourself for Azriel’s information and tried to be as open as possible.
“Yeah”
Azriel took another pause, and that time you were sure those were tears filling his eyes. For any answer, you leaned a bit forward and got on your tiptoes to press your lips to his jaw. It was a soft, brief kiss against his stubble that had him shuddering once more. His head fell even lower after that.
“So that’s where you’ve been all afternoon. That’s fine, no different from any other day” you contemplated when he didn’t continue. “What really happen, Az?”
“You don’t want to know”
He made his intention, his thoughts, clear for a second time. Yet there was a hidden urge on his voice that pressed you to keep asking. The bond was still closed off, but through the cracks of his part, you could feel the need to share it. It was clear that he didn’t want you to be the person to share it with, and you would have normally respected his choice.
But there were tears on his eyes, actual tears on your precious mate’s eyes that were shattering your own heart into pieces. Your strong, brave shadowsinger was breaking in that tiny shower and you were dying to be there for him.
“Azriel”
You just needed his name. It was like a prayer, like an order or a command, like a petition. He used to tell you that you saying his name was enough to put him to his knees, that buckled at the sound. Azriel’s face broke into a grimace and he suck a breath before he finally broke down.
“He kept those children in cells in his own basement. They were so skinny, so small, he wasn’t feeding them” Azriel’s breath sped up, as his words stumbled down his throat. He broke eye-contact and stared at a spot in your collarbone. “I couldn’t tell one apart from another, because he heard I was coming and burned them all down. There was no one left alive”
It took you a moment to separate the horror of the story of his own horror. The one that marked his hands that held you so lovingly, that made you coffee each morning and ticked you in the early mornings. His stepbrothers had burned his hands down, and since then, Azriel hadn’t been near an uncontrolled fire.
“I tried to save them, so save any of them. But they were all ashes”
When Azriel leaned down so he could rest his head against your shoulder, you only held him tighter. When the water turned cold and he started shivering, you just turned it off in silence and guided him to bed.
You dried him with soft touches, stopping to touch every inch of his scarred hands. Helped him get into comfortable clothes and laid with him in silence, letting him knowing you weren’t going anywhere – at least yet. You stared at him with a small smile until his eyes closed and his body relaxed, his breathing finally becoming even.
For good measure, you brushed his hair out of his face. There was no need for him to happen what had happened next. The blood on his clothes, the stains on the wooden floor. You were sure there were specks of blood in his wings, where he couldn’t reach.
Nothing Azriel told you would drag you away from him. He could become a monster and you would destroy the world with him. But that night, after hours of staying awake just staring at him safe from the horrors of the world, you got up and put back your clothes.
Then, you winnowed away.
-
Rhysand had been finishing reports when he noticed the breach in his home. Cassian was sitting on the couch, half-asleep with un-done reports on his own desks.
He had been waiting for Azriel’s that night, but he guessed he would receive it the next morning. When he noticed the breach, he guessed it was his spymaster bringing back information from his latest task.
Rhysand didn’t expect you appearing out of thin air on his office, with a murderous look on your face. He raised his brows lightly, and got up from his chair. He didn’t miss the way you were clenching your fists, so he decided not to cross the barrier between you and him.
“Y/N” he called your name carefully. “It’s late, shouldn’t you be asleep?”
“Azriel just came home. Destroyed. And I’m supposed to be asleep?”
“What happened?”
The mean, sarcastic laugh you barked at his question wasn’t the ‘you’ Rhysand knew. The kind emissary that settled political relationships between courts, that lighted up his brother’s darkness. You snorted again when you looked at his expecting face.
“You mean besides completing yet another cruel mission for you, one he was clearly too attached to? Why do you always send him for the worse ones? What makes your sanity more worthy than his?” you extended an arm and pointed vaguely around the room. “You’ve been here, sitting so comfortably, while my mate was getting his hands dirty on your name. And you dare to ask about – “
“I don’t sit here comfortably, I don’t value my sanity over his. Where is this coming from?”
It wasn’t the first time you had that argument, more common during the last few years. Even when Azriel was just your friend, you had always spoken against his role in Rhysand’s court. You had seen the bags under his eyes, the weight of his actions that he didn’t share with his family.
Cassian perked up from his spot at your argument and raised voices, and noticed the hostile atmosphere immediately. It was hard not to, when your own power was making the lights tremble and your eyes spark.
“Because you are draining him! He’s not a weapon you can yield against your court, he’s part of your family and your brother. And you’re gonna end up hurting him”
“You’re not the person to talk about my court or how I handle those matters. You’re not High Lord and certainly not around enough to question my rulership”
“I am his mate, the one who picks up the pieces. What you do with him isn’t family or brotherhood, is extortion and manipulation” you busted out, taking a step closer. “You saved him, good for you! That was centuries ago! And now he feels like he owns you his life and you just throw him around!”
“Careful there, Y/N. I don’t appreciate how you’re talking right now” the high lord growled under his breath, his own power waking up.
“We should talk about this in the morning”
Cassian tried to interfere, but you didn’t pay attention to him when Rhysand stepped away from the table and towards you. It wasn’t your friend who stood before you, the man you had laughed with and worked for during many years. It was the responsible of your mate’s pain and all you saw was read and hate and Azriel’s first tear rolling down.
You bared your teeth at him like a wild animal, you guessed. You were coming at him with everything you had kept through the years, and maybe it was rushed and mean, but it wasn’t unfair.
“Azriel is my brother, and he’s a valuable resource for our court that I carefully blade against – “
Rhysand’s words died down when your fist collided with the side of his mouth. He stumbled against the table, a pen rolling off. Cassian finally rose from his seat and opened his mouth to warm Rhysand, to stop you or to do something. But he didn’t move as your hand lowered again against your High Lord. You pushed him away from you, and any answer or complain Rhysand had died down when he finally focused on your face.
There were tear tracks down cheeks, and you didn’t look angry anymore. You looked desperate, broken, so sad that it robbed Rhysand’s breath.
He kept still as you pushed him once more, now his body rigid against your touch. You chocked on a sob when he didn’t flinch, your fist hitting the side of his chest. He didn’t stop you when you kept hitting him, pushing him, as you cried down every truth in that room.
You’re hurting my mate
You’re going to kill my mate
Please just leave him alone
It was your begging that made him realize that his mistakes. The sorrows that you poured in them that he saw himself in, when Feyre was hurt. It made him wonder what kind of brother he was for driving Azriel’s mate to that state.
Rhysand took everything you gave him and ordered Cassian with a silent look to leave. The male obeyed with a sharp look, disappearing minutes before your knees finally gave out and you crumbled after a weak punch. You hid your face in your hands as Rhysand tried to keep you straight. Your body shook with sobs and you didn’t have it in you to feel bad when shadows caressed your shoulders as Azriel winnowed behind you.
Your mate gently grabbed you in his arms and helped you get up. Not once he looked at Rhysand, not once he acknowledged his brother’s desperate tries to meet his eyes and speak into his mind. Azriel just held you together as he winnowed back to your bed, where he had noticed you had left him to do what he was too afraid to say himself.
“Just let him be happy” you whined one last time as shadows covered you both. His arms pulled you farther against his embrace. “You fucking prick, let me be happy”
Rhysand watched you two disappear without catching his brother’s eyes once. Azriel only looked at you with a mix of adoration and gratitude, and kept Rhysand off his mind. The High Lord stared at the empty spot you had left for a while, caressing his already bruised jaw.
Then, he fell to his chair and let the doubts and mistakes crowd his mind.
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Wow, look at that! Me, avoiding responsabilities and writing another Eris fic for which I have no time! What a surprise! Enjoy this LONG LONG PIECE that has consumed my time lately. Shout-out to @glitterypirateduck who is too in her Eris' era.
Plot: Five times Eris didn’t know how to express his feelings, and one time he did
Warnings: descriptions of violence and blood. Mean Eris when he doesn't know how to express his feelings. Troubled, traumatized boi.
1
His steps were wobbly, and he had already stopped three times to catch his breath. Each time, the ground seemed closer, more tempting. Eris always cared about the impression people had of him, and in his court, he polished it like nowhere.
The strong, cruel prince that matched his father’s temper. Someone who they wouldn’t mess with, someone who would reign one day when Beron was gone. Only the silent corridors were the witness of that other part of him, the real one, that was leaving bloodied prints on the walls.
Beron had raised his hand against his mother, like many other times. He had crossed her beautiful and soft face with a hard slap, just because she dared to share her opinion on a political matter. And Eris had unconsciously let his power flare. Just an ember, a spark in his middle finger.
His father had seen, and had deemed right to remind him where was his position in his court. Lashes had ripped his back into shreds, blood trailing down his arms and legs. He had finished two hours before dawn, but Eris hadn’t been able to move until the night was already started. That way, he made sure no one saw his vulnerable form.
Eris closed the doors of his room as soon as he was inside, and stumbled into his bed. Falling face first, he closed his eyes and willed his conscious to leave him. No one heard his prayers, and he was still wide awake when his door opened again.
He would have been startled, alert or even afraid, but your scent sneaked in before you entered. Eris groaned in acknowledgement, and he knew any warnings or threats were useless against you. You already knew the dangers of your actions, the consequences of being involved with him. And yet, you were always there.
“Can you take off your clothes?” you broke the sinister silence of the room with quiet steps. “I’ll run you a bath”
“Where’s my brother?”
“Asleep” you answered, brushing your soft knuckles against his locks. “Don’t worry about it”
Flynn, the younger Vanserra brother, had tight sleep schedules, so part of his worry faded away. It wouldn’t do him any good if someone found his younger brother’s betrothed in a light sleeping gown.
Eris heard you filling the bath with water, and tried not to let the guilt worry. The first time you had helped him, he had threatened to burn you alive, and gone as far as give you a nasty burn scar on your left forearm. You hadn’t left, and he hadn’t thanked you. While you two ignored each other in the court ministrations, it was your secret routine – you, a stranger promised to a monster, helping him among his dearest family and friends.
Not once in his life he had let someone so close to his torment, to his vulnerability – to his body. People assumed he had tons of lovers, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of someone touching him. With you, he had discovered in the last years, it was different.
Your hand on his shoulder startled him back to reality, and he finally looked at you. There were dark bags under your eyes, a determinated look fixed on him.
“It’s ready” you tilted your head slightly. “Can you get up on your own?”
“Of course. Get away” he scoffed, but didn’t argue when you stabilized him by his elbow when he rose. “I don’t need your help. You’re more a liability than a support”
“I know you can do it, Eris” you didn’t even blink at his mean words, nor reacted when he tried to push you away. “Maybe we should take your tunic off before – “
“Get off me!”
Eris didn’t measure his strength when he pushed you off, just desperate to shake the feeling of kind hands that he didn’t deserve. That would never be his.
You stumbled back and got your feet tangled between the carpet, which caused you to fall on your butt. He physically flinched when your hands broke your fall, when he saw you suck a breath in pain. But he wouldn’t apologize, he never did. If being the worst person alive meant you would live, if hurting you meant no one would do it, then he could carry the guilt and self-hate just fine.
From the ground, he felt your eyes on him as he striped his clothes. They fell to the ground, his tunic nothing but ripped shreds of cloth. His vest wasn’t much better, or his shirt. Only his pants had been saved from the bloodbath. Eris made a point by not looking at you while he undressed, leaving his briefs on.
He didn’t need to look into a mirror to know that the way your body tensed from the corner of his eye wasn’t an exaggeration. Every fiber of his body screamed at him when he walked towards the bathroom, when he heard you get up in a rush and follow him.
The fact that you didn’t demand an apology or got angry at him rubbed all the wrong spots.
“Let me warm the water”
“I can do it myself, little fox”
Still, your hand sneaked and you dipped it into the water, and within seconds steam started to fill the bathroom. Eris stared at that particular spot between your shoulder and neck, where he wished he could thank you with a soft kiss. Wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into the bath with him. Be the person you would lay with that night.
“Do you want me to help you in?”
“What I want you to do is to leave” he answered as the temperature of the room rose. “I want you to lay with your future husband and forget about me”
“I can’t do that, Eris” you casted him a glance. “I can help you in though”
His anger rose back up and he didn’t say anything when you straightened back up. Your fire magic was only a spark of his own, only useful for warming water or lighting a chimney. That you had to use yours because he was too spent was a disgrace upon himself.
Eris made a point to leave his back to you inside the tub, letting the warm water wash the blood away. He pushed his head between his arms and ignored your presence. Ignored your warm hands as they brushed the wounds so they wouldn’t get infected. Ignored your quiet movements as you left healing and numbing creams on the counter. Tried to ignore you when you massaged his shoulders and scalp, cleaning his hair like his mother used to do.
Eventually, you decided to leave him alone in his rooms. After helping him get up from the bathtub and into the bed. Tucking him in like a stubborn child, turning off the candles. Only when your hand brushed his hair one last time, he noticed the new addition to your beautiful wrist.
He gripped it before you could hide it, and for the first time in the whole night, you flinched. Not because his touch was rough, since he held it like expensive glass. Not because you were afraid, because with him, you never were.
“This is new” he whispered in the dark room, staring at the bruises along your delicate skin. “What happened?”
“He just got a little handsy. Flynn…” you doubted before you sighed, sitting on his bed. “Your father has been pushing him more and more about the weeding. He left this morning with him to hunt in the forest, so I can only guess they talked about it. So he got drunk. And I was late for dinner, because he hadn’t informed me it would be early tonight”
“Anywhere else?” he asked, and eyed you with enough intensity to warn you against lying.
“I’m fine”
You had been raised for that, Eris guessed, and that was normal for you. Being sold to the best buyer for your hand, endure a shitty betrothed until you were to marry and he could ignore you properly. Eris didn’t dare to think about how things would be if your position allowed him to marry you. If his father saw you worthy of his first-born.
But you were stuck with Flynn Vanserra, a man uncapable of love and caring. A man who did worse things than a bruised wrist.
“Be careful” he allowed himself to say, just because it was dark, and you couldn’t see the real concern and fear of someone finding out about your behavior in his room. “Don’t let anyone see you leave my rooms. And don’t come back. I don’t need you”
“Good night, Eris” you rose from bed, and Eris missed the warmth of your wrist against his fingers. “Don’t forget the creams”
With silent steps, you left his room, and Eris spent the night awake wondering of you could see right past his lies, past his fake cruelty and indifference towards you. If you could see how much he cared about his brother’s betrothed.
2
It wasn’t too often that the palace opened its door for lesser fae. On special occasions, his father allowed them to attend to the main hall and see what they were missing because of their condition. Beron took out the elegant clothes, the expensive wine and bright plates. And then, he didn’t let them use any of that and had them watch from the corner the superiority of his family.
Eris didn’t particularly care about those events, but he had been forced to attend to that one – since it was his own birthday. He didn’t celebrate his birthday, he didn’t get presents. Not when years of monotony rolled by and nothing changed. His mother had been the only one wishing him happy birthday that morning, kissing the side of his head quickly and reminding him to be nice.
To stand by and endure his father’s show of power at his expense. All his brothers were there too, and not too far from Flynn, you too.
You were wearing an orange dress that emulated autumns leaves. Each time you moved, lights reflected yellow and brown sparks that had the lesser fae turning their heads around. Eris too couldn’t keep his eyes away from your form for too long, with the risk of being caught.
Flynn seemed to be least affected by your looks, or your presence. While you were required to stay by his side and be faithful, he dragged you through countless humiliation. Talking and flirting with other women when you were standing a few feet away, ignoring your attempts to start conversations, leaving you while you greeted a friend.
Eri’s nails were imprinted on his palms from how hard he closed his fists each time it happened. He had almost set fire to a curtain when he had been close enough to watch your crestfallen expression.
To avoid anyone noticing him staring at you like a hawk or turning his brother into ashes, he busied himself with pointless talks and stupid politics. He endured it for three long hours, and then he granted himself a rest excusing himself for the bathroom.
He knew you had been following him since he left the ballroom, but didn’t acknowledge you until you were far from the crowd. Eris walked through the hallways and across the backyard, and stopped only when he reached the stables. Then, he turned around and his heart skipped a beat at your sight.
Your beautiful hair had been let down, and you were wearing a crown of golden leaves. Everything in your attire claimed you were their possession, but you weren’t his to look at, to enjoy. So he raised a brow and waited for you to talk.
“You’re hard to catch” you started. “Someone might think you’re running away from me”
“Maybe I’m running away from your annoying presence”
You scoffed and he hated and loved that you didn’t seem affected by his words. There was no truth behind it, just the urge of hearing your voice in your reply.
“I want to wish you happy birthday” you confessed, and even your voice was sweeter that night. “Haven’t seen you in all day”
“I’ve been busy” he lied.
Shamefully, he had waited for your visit for hours. Last year you had been the first one to wish him happy birthday, and he had remembered for the whole year the feeling of your lips against his cheek. It had been a friendly kiss, although it had been the only time he had seen you blush. And during the hard days, he held onto that memory like a lifesaver.
You hummed and tucked your hands in front of you. Eris tried not to notice the silver ring that claimed you as his brother’s possession, the distinction from other women. You never wore it, but you had to in events like that one.
In the silence that followed his lie, Eris’ whole body relaxed. His shoulders dropped, his fist untightened and his jaw unclenched. His nostrils flared slightly as he took in your scent, and finally, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly.
“Happy birthday, Eris” you finally said, and smiled brightly at him. “Do you want to open your present?”
“Present?” he blinked surprised, the question catching him off guard. “You got me a present?”
“Birthdays are supposed to be filled with presents. Extravagant parties are good too, but I think everyone should get a present” you explained. “I tried to keep yours in an envelope, but someone found it before you. And I couldn’t help it. Do you want to see it?”
Eris nodded dumbly. You could offer him a crumb of your lunch and he would gladly treasure it for the rest of his life. Just like he was doing with all your moments together, before you were cruelly snagged into his brother’s arms eventually.
He followed you through the stables, wondering what you could give him. He didn’t remember the last time someone got him a present, a pleasant one. Anything you could give him would be perfect, so he wasn’t worried about liking it or not. He was worried about cracking down and smudging that beautiful lipstick with his own lips.
Like second nature, you walked him towards the pit where he kept his hounds locked. They slept together and were Eris pride and joy, the first and only gift he got from his father. As you unlocked the door, Eris stuffed his hands in his pocket awkwardly. Then, he looked inside.
And broke into a loud, deep chuckle that rattled his bones.
Eris laughed and laughed until he took his hands out of his pockets and had to press them into his stomach, bending over. When he opened his eyes and tried to regain his posture, he lost it over and over again.
“I take it you like it” you chuckled with him.
He missed the way your eyes shone at his laugh, the way you bounced off your feet at his happiness. It had been the only real smile on your lips that night, and it rivaled any of the elegant lamps in the ballroom.
His hounds, the terrifying big dogs that haunted prisoners when they got out of his dungeons and tracked down traitors, had each one fox knitted hats. Who had ripped fae apart with their sharp teeth and devoured limbs like butter. They all stared at you with oblivious calm and a fox hat.
“They look – they look so ridiculous” Eris managed to say between laughs, and pointed at Maximus, who had its head titled and one of the ears had bent down. “And so happy! How did you put them on? This is the best present I could ask for”
“Oh, they didn’t put much of a fight when I sneaked some treats” you shrugged, and Eris broke into another laugh. “Besides, they like me too much not to let me do it”
“You’re a devious creature, little fox” he scoffed, and finally looked at you. “You are – “
Whatever he was about to say died when he caught the glimpse of the moon light hitting your ring. The ring that reminded him that you may have given him a birthday present, but everything else belonged to Flynn. He caught the words he was about to say and stuffed them down his chest. He forced himself to look away from your expectant expression, and swallow the guilt.
You would never be happy with him, but neither would you be with Flynn. Your fate in that court was sealed, yet you would keep your life with the youngest Vanserra.
“Thank you for the present, Y/N” he managed to say, not daring to look back at his hounds.
“You’re welcome, Eris” you copied his formal, clipped tone in a mocking way, noticing the change of the atmosphere but not caring about it. “Maybe next time I could knit you one for yourself”
“I’m afraid I look nothing like a fox. More like a snake perhaps”
“And I’m afraid you’re too hard on yourself, but we aren’t considering our deliriums”
Eris opened his mouth to argue, but he felt them coming before you did. A couple, probably drunk and lesser fae, had snuck into the gardens. And they probably wouldn’t recognize you, wouldn’t report to his father about your reunion. But Eris couldn’t risk your safety, not when you were the only thing that made him be glad of being alive for another year.
He caught your arm in a tight grip and your eyes widened before listening to their steps. You didn’t have to look to know the couple was staring. In your eyes, Eris could see his own fear of having those short and meaningless meetings cut short because of a snitch. He hated that you weren’t afraid of his tight grip or the fire in his eyes, but because of the retaliations if you were discovered.
One of his hounds poked a lazy head to see what the silence was about, but saw no threat and turned away. And to ensure it wouldn’t turn into a threat, Eris put on his heir-mask, the hatred and cruel prince everyone expected him to be, and snarled with fire under his tongue the venom he knew you didn’t believe.
“And if I ever see you snooping again, I’ll have your head on a pike in your weeding chambers. Tell my dear brother to shorten the leash of his belongings” he pressed on. He caught on the couple’s sniff of fear and respect, but also your own hurt. Hurt at the words he was blading for your protection, he told himself, that were necessary. “Leave before I change my mind”
With a final hard push, he threw you a few feet away from him. You looked down and scrambled away from him, and the couple left too. Eris was left alone with his foxed-hounds, and the horrid realization that hurting you was the only way of keeping you safe.
3
Eris paced the length of your room for what felt like forever. He had already noticed every detail you kept in your room that made it so you, had fought with the inadequate feeling of invading your personal space. He had had time enough to consider if he was going insane and paranoid, but it was late and you weren’t there.
You always retreated to your rooms early in the night. Sometimes, he knew because he accompanied you when his brother was too drunk to remember your presence. Other times, he knew because you sneaked into his dorms right before night set. You were supposed to be there with him, teasing him for not being able to look away from the lingerie that lay forgotten in your armchair.
But you weren’t, and Eris was pacing.
That morning, as you all had lunch as a family, his mother had asked an inadequate but innocent answer. It was only logical that after almost five years of courting you started talking about the actual weeding, but you weren’t. Because his brother was too much of a dick to entertain it until he had enjoyed his youth to the fullest, and because you sneaked glances at him when no one was looking.
You had given her a simple answer – love matters took time, and better be safe than sorry. While everyone agreed quietly, Eris had noticed the way Flynn’s face darkened. As if the idea of you answering a question directed to both of you was inadequate.
Eris had left the dining room with an uneasy feeling, and had kept it in his stomach all day. When you hadn’t appeared during dinner time nor had his brother, he had decided to search for you.
You weren’t in the stables, where you spent most of your time between horses and his hounds. You weren’t in the kitchen, where you snuck off when Flynn got too much to handle. And you weren’t anywhere he looked, so he had decided to let the worry get the best out of him and wait for you in your rooms.
As if the thought of you had summoned you, the doors opened and Eris turned around in a frenzy.
“Thank the cauldron” he scoffed, already replacing the worry with anger. “Where the fuck have you been all day? Do I really have to wait here if I want to…”
“I’m sorry” you apologized, your voice void of any fire or charm.
He tried to make himself argue with you further, to explain his presence in your room with a stupid excuse and not let you know he had been worried. There was no blood or visible wounds on you, not new bruises or burns he can explain his sudden lack of words with.
But he could see something there, that made his blood boil and his heart beat furiously against his chest. You walked past him in silence and removed your heels next to your wardrobe. Without saying anything or acknowledging his presence, you peeled the eiderdown off and climbed inside the bed.
Only then he watched your shoulders tight as you tried to keep the cries to yourself. Eris walked on autopilot to the edge of your bed, and watched in silent horror as tears fell down your face. You were squeezing your eyes shut, probably wanting to be left alone, but he found himself sitting on the edge of the bed. Just like you had done so many times.
It was so different from what he knew, what you did with him, that he didn’t know what to do. Hesitantly, he caressed your shoulder and you whined, your body turning around so you could face him.
“What happened?” he asked, his hand trembling with the effort of staying on your shoulder and not brushing the tears away.
“He locked me in a basement, because he said he was tired of seeing me everywhere and hearing me all the time” you admitted, curling your body around his. “There was no light. And I was fine, but he didn’t come back and I called. And no one answered and – “
Your explanation died with the first sob, and many followed. Eris knew what basement you were talking about. His father had locked him and his brothers many times in the past. Big enough to allow a standing person, but not to let them sit. Tight enough so a part of your body was always touching the wall, and dark enough to rob your breath.
Eris willed the words stuck on his throat to leave him. He wanted to lay down beside you and comfort you like he should. He wanted to break every last of his brother’s bones, and then some more.
“I was so scared” you admitted quietly, finally opening your eyes to look at him. “I thought – I thought I’d been forgotten”
“How did you get out?”
“Beron heard me”
He didn’t need to ask for further details, just tried to keep eye contact as your beautiful eyes were constantly drowning in tears and sorrow. His father was as cruel as Flynn, but until you were officially married, he still had to ensure your safety for your family’s sake.
You cried against his side and eventually your body gravitated to his lap. His free hand carefully brushed yours, and you held it so tight and hard that Eris choked his own cry. How many times he had felt alone in his own home? Forgotten in that same basement while Beron went hunting, or partying?
The thought of you locked in those four walls turned his stomach up. You, with your easy smile and your kind words. Full of kindness and love that no one in that court deserved, certainly not him.
Still, Eris held his ground sitting on your bed. He lighted some candles and sealed the room with a glamour against sound and strangers. The rational part of his brain told him to leave before someone came looking for him, the irrational part to do worse things. But he stayed on your bed, stroking his thumb across the back of your hand and brushing his fingers against the nape of your neck.
As you cried, Eris begged himself to do something with the words that resonated in his heart.
“You’re not forgotten, I could never forget you. I won’t”
“He could try and hide you in the last corner of the universe and I would still crawl my way to you, my little fox”
His mouth was kept shut and his fingers continued his ministration, until your breath slowed and your sobs disappeared. Then, when you were about to fall asleep with his hand in yours, you opened your eyes one last time and gave him a small smile. Maybe he hadn’t said anything, but he was starting to suspect you could read his mind and heart.
“I’m glad you came for me” you confessed quietly. “Thank you”
He should have said that he didn’t accept your gratefulness, that he wasn’t worthy of them. Instead, he smiled back and stared at you while you fell asleep. With his heart roaring just a big wilder.
4
His court was under attack.
Eris had come to that realization a month ago, when a missive from Hybern had reached their borders with a threat of dead and destruction. In that moment, he had thought it had been a minor attack. A political attack, a threat with little importance in a world where everybody hated his court.
But then, his father had dismissed the king demands and patrols started to go missing. Parts of those patrols came back, traumatized soldiers that died in a few days but that had enough time to scream horrors. More soldiers were sent into the forest, and more soldiers died.
For a month, Hybern had debilitated them in their own home until most of the army was unavailable. And now, his home was under attack.
The top part of the palace was on fire, people ran desperately through the corridors and soldiers from both sides fought in the backyard. Eris was sure Beron would be able to win that battle, maybe the war. Yet what worried him was that Beron didn’t particularly care about causalities, and there were many that had Eris’ heart in a knot.
He had managed to take his mother to safety, to a hidden room where women and children waited. He expected to see you there too, but instead, had found a hiding Flynn that didn’t answer his questions.
Eris had left his brother in the middle of a hallway with a shutten eye and two broken legs that wouldn’t let him get away from the soldiers. He hoped he would get killed so Eris wouldn’t be the one to carry the task.
As he ran through the castle against the waves of running people, the fire on his veins roared louder. What would he do, if he came upon the worst scenario? Would he crash his home down? It had been eight months since his birthday, and he had come to the realization he feared the most. That those times he seemed to spot you among a crowd, when his soul sang for you, where for a reason.
He hadn’t found the courage to tell you yet about the golden string he tugged at sometimes, hoping you would turn around and confirm his suspicions.
If he lost his mate today because of his brother’s cowardice, because of a war his father had started out of greed, Eris wasn’t sure the world would be a safe place for anyone anymore.
Asking the running members of his court would be useless, as it would be worrying about them seeing his panic-stricken expression. Eris focused on running and following his instinct, until it led him to the stables. The place where you had shared so many memories that was now a bloodbath.
Soldiers were lying on the ground, dead and unconscious, some of them begging for his help as he stepped over their bodies. The heart of the battle was close enough he could hear and smell death looming, but all of that died down when he finally saw you.
“Eris!” you cried out his name, and what was left of his heart clenched at the broken sound. “Eris I –“
Your cries were muffled by a rough hand over your mouth, of a soldier that hadn’t seen him yet. You were being dragged towards a carriage, your limbs flying around as you tried to get free from the enemies’ grip. Eris would have time to thank fate for allowing him to reach you on time, before you were taken away from him permanently.
Fire licked the carriage’s front, not letting their occupancies leave untouched. It consumed the vehicle in a matter of seconds, burning so powerful and tight that Eris felt light headed for a second. His power felt like a bottomless pit where he could dive without consequences, so he did just that.
Unleashing his short swords, he used both hands to clean his path towards you. The soldiers realized shortly after that their scape root was compromised, but too late that who had compromised it was the crown’s heir.
They didn’t stand a chance against his rage, his power. They fell to the ground like flies while all Eris saw was red. Red seeping through your wounds into the ground, staining your dress. Red pooling the earth beneath his feet as every last soldier fell to their death. Red of his power, that consumed every threat against his mate.
Once he was done, he crashed to his knees in front of you, and the fire died all together when your arms locked around his neck. He didn’t contemplate what it would look like when he pushed you farther into his embrace, listening to your heartbeat like a lullaby.
“You shouldn’t be outside” Eris whispered against your hair, the remains of his anger seeping through them. “If you were smart, you would have stayed inside. Dumb woman. What were you thinking?”
“I wanted to find you”
Your admission didn’t catch him off guard. You sounded so sincere, so relieved, that he only got angrier. Why was fate so cruel to bond him with such a kind soul? Of course, of every reason you could have gone outside, you would have chosen him.
“I didn’t know if you were okay” you continued, lifting your face from his chest to look at him. “What if you had been hurt?”
“And what would you do, hm?” Eris almost cut you off, suddenly repulsed by your touch.
That he had let you get so close to put yourself in danger was a mistake. It had been a mistake the first time he looked at you long enough to discover how bright your smile was. A mistake each time he had allowed you in his room to tend his wounds, every conversation you two had in secret.
There was no answer to his questions, and you knew it. Eris got up and didn’t offer you a hand, instead turning his face away from you. Closing his eyes tightly, he tried to ignore the endless thoughts about what could have happen. The things he should have done better, because none of that mattered now.
Eris tried to ignore you when you finally got up and grabbed his hand. Your hand caressed his fingers, his hands, his arms. You caressed his skin as if he hadn’t just slaughtered ten strong, healthy soldiers with families.
“I somehow do irrational things when it comes to you” you spoke quietly, wrapping your hands around his elbow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get in trouble. But the thought of you being hurt… I’m sorry”
“Let’s get you to safety” he grumbled, not acknowledging your apology.
He imagined what it would feel like to have you hanging from his arm in different circumstances, maybe in another world. Briefly, he indulged himself and slowed his steps so he could soak into it. There were bodies and blood, sounds of battle and death cries, but none of them seemed to matter as you walked down the hallways to the hidden room.
The battle was already dying down, but it wouldn’t be safe until nighttime. Eris would make sure every last enemy was death before letting you set a foot outside the safe room. He vowed himself to distance himself enough to never repeat that moment, and to protect you with whatever it took him. Indifference, cruelty. Whatever put you to safety.
What he couldn’t control was a last moment of vulnerability. He stopped right before the discrete doors where his mother and the rest of women and children waited. Turning to face you, his heart got the best of him and raised his arm without his consent.
“Be safe” you begged him. “Please. I don’t want to lose you”
“I will, little fox”
Eris tucked a strand of your hair, sticky with blood behind your ear. He watched like a hawk the cherry blush that painted your cheeks, the contained smile that you hid horribly. Instead of retreating, he let curious fingers explore the curve of your cheekbone. Your jawline, your chin. The curve of your nose and your lips.
His traitor fingers stopped at your bottom lip, tugging it down. It should have bothered him that those lips were meant for his brother, that they had already tasted him when his brother had gotten too handsy. But it didn’t, because they looked so kissable that he thought he had imagined it when you leaned forward.
When your eyes fluttered closed and his body gravitated too, he thought he imagined. The distance became shorter and everything became white noise. Eris had dreamed so long about it that he thought he was dreaming.
But not even his dreams were so livid, so real. He blinked one last time before crashing into your lips with a straining force. You tasted like blood from your open lip, and like clouds and sky and perfection. There were teeth and tongue and he couldn’t control himself more than the kiss.
Shockingly, he was the one pushed against the opposite door, your much smaller body trapping him as you grabbed him by the shoulders. He stole every breath and whine that left your mouth with kissing. For those few seconds, he let himself explore each inch of your mouth like it was the last minute of his life.
It might had been, if someone saw you with him and told Beron. His father thought had him pushing you away, so hard you stumbled down.
“Get inside” Eris demanded you, gripping your elbow harshly. You blinked with those swollen lips and rosy cheeks, and he clenched his jaw.
“Eris…”
“Don’t come out, not until I come back. Be fucking smart for once in your life” he opened the door and dozens of women stared at you two.
Something in his chest stilled when your eyes widened and that bond became alive. When he was certain that you felt the same tug he had been feeling for a long time, that he had lost sleep over. It dawned to him that nothing would be the same after that day, whether the attack finished or not. Whether his father found out or those women kept silent.
So, for the first time in his life, Eris let himself accept those hidden feelings and kissed you one last time. Slow, deep, in front of his mother who covered her mouth with a surprised gasp. He dragged his lips between yours, only for a second.
When he tore away, Eris was sure he would die happy if that face was the last thing he saw.
“Don’t leave the room until I come back, my little fox. Only me”
Eris didn’t let you answer. He turned around and closed the doors behind him, running down the hallways. Looking for the enemy, for his brother whose betrothed had just kissed, for his father who could kill you both. And away from where his heart was safe with you.
5
Not even a week of mourning was stablished for the deaths at the Hybern attack. Not even a week for the thousands of soldiers who had died defending his home.
Eris had made sure that every family got their loved ones’ bodies back, and that there was enough wood to light up fires for them. He mourned more for them than for his own family, who had suffered an immense hit.
Flynn Vanserra had been found ravished in a forgotten hallway, his body mangled beyond recognition. People whispered that he had found an end according to his life – cruel, mean, without mercy. Eris stared at his brother’s corpse and curled his lip, because before his death, not a scar marked his body. While he had usen yours like a blank canvas.
Beron Vanserra had died too, and that had rattled Eris’ world.
His father had been the main objective, and after he had fallen from the upper tower, the enemy had retreated. Beron was dead before he hit the ground, courtesy of a dozen poisoned arrows on his chest. Eris had watched his body burn in silence contemplation, thinking about how many times his father had raised his fire against him.
Now, it was Eris who light up his father’s tomb fire.
Days brushed quickly but there was one thing that had him grounded – you. Eris Vanserra was officially a High Lord, so no one argued when you appeared by his arm on Beron’s funeral. When you moved your things to the room besides him.
His people whispered about the caring brother who had taken upon the charge of his betrothed so she wouldn’t be discarded. And about the cruel king who had killed his own brother to wed a nameless girl. Eris didn’t acknowledge any of those comments.
He just kept you close as loyalties were stablished, letting everyone know that you were off limits. For touching, for hurting, for insulting. One noble was brave enough to question your place in the palace with Flynn death, and one noble lost his tongue the next morning.
As everything settled down, Eris found himself taking walks with you through the forest, something his brother had never bothered to do. You hung from his arm gracefully, new and expensive dresses on your wardrobe, and a radiant smile on your face.
“Will you teach me how to ride?” you asked him one sunny afternoon. “So I can ride hunting with you”
“I will get you your own horse if that’s what my mate wants” he let the title sweeten his mouth, warm his heart. “I will get you whatever your heart desire, my little fox”
“Maybe I’ll turn into a spoiled princess then. And you will find your ruin at my expensive demands” you chuckled, shifting closer to him.
You could ask him for a court and he would fight to death with anyone to grant you your own court. You could ask him for his court and he would get on his knees and offer it to you without another word. Those words were meaningless, because you rarely asked him for anything. Even when you had changed rooms, you had been happy with just a bed and a blanket.
“I’m happy with being here, close to you. I don’t need anything else”
The more time he spent with you, the more he marveled at your selflessness. You had been helping those with injuries from the fight, talking with the families who were grieving. By nighttime, you returned to your chambers where Eris was waiting for you, having abandoned his own for yours. You two laid in bed looking at each other until you fell asleep.
Then, Eris spent hours staring at you, letting his heart soak into the comfort.
“You are quiet today” you commented, breaking him from his thoughts. “Court problems?”
Eris always had court problems. The change was coming slowly but surely, and his father’s loyal friends weren’t happy with that. But it wasn’t their enmity that had him deep in thought. The last rays of sun warmed your face as he looked at you with a small smile.
Talking about his feelings was his weakness. He had been mean, cruel and downright villainous to you for years because he couldn’t open his heart to you. He couldn’t endure the thought of you hurting because of his stupid feelings.
But he wanted things to change. He wanted you to be happy and safe, and if he had to share his thoughts and swallow his insecurities, he would.
“I was wondering” he admitted eventually, a little unsure. “We are mate. But… do you think, we would have found each other? If we weren’t?”
You looked surprised at his questions. You hadn’t talked about the bond, just accepted it. When Eris had found you after the battle, you had hugged him tight and kissed him once more. You hadn’t talked about it, and yet, you both were comfortable with it.
After the initial surprise, you gifted him a soft smile, and your eyes crinkled against the sun.
“I would have found you either way, Eris. You had me since I set a foot in this court” you answered him. “I used to worry that there was something wrong with me, because I couldn’t feel anything for Flynn. Not love, not hate. Nothing. Whatever he did was fine because it was the price I paid to stay close to you. And it was worthy”
“Don’t say that, Y/N”
“I can’t, that’s what I feel. And I’m not afraid to tell you that I’ve loved you for a long time, my darling. Long before I knew we were mates and through all we’ve been through. I’m sure I would have loved you even if we weren’t mates”
Eris wondered if he would ever be able to speak so freely about his thoughts. He couldn’t still voice out what he felt for you. How he would turn the world around if you asked him to, how your love was enough to keep him alive forever. For now, though, Eris smiled and leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your nose, earning a soft giggle.
He would tell you all of that someday, show you his feelings when his words were stuck. Eris Vanserra owned you that much.
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First time writing for Eris! Let me know what you think
Plot: Beron manages to ask the right questions at the wrong moment, making Eris suspicious of your safety. His hidden treasure in the forest, where he cannot get fast enough.
Warnings: mention of torture, death and blood.
His steps resonated through the long corridor, servants and guards bowing to his presence. They never met his eyes, not even when he was just a young prince who barely reached their waists. He used to fool himself thinking it was out of respect, out of fear. But Eris had learned that it was easier to ignore the problems of their loved court, the abuse, when they didn’t look at him.
Countless times he had walked down those corridors with blood streaming down his face, bloody nose and bruised eyes. Burned flesh and peeled skin. It used to bother him their indifference, but that day, he barely paid them any attention.
All his focus was set in leaving the palace he called home as soon as possible without looking suspicious, without letting anyone know the terror that threatened to paralyze him.
Eris could feel his eye bruising, the burn marks on his back and chest from his father later outburst. He didn’t mind the abuse, could endure it just fine. What was breaking his soul in two were the answers his father looked with that abuse, and that he had managed to hide. But Beron was asking questions he shouldn’t have been formulating.
“Tell me, my son. Why do I keep receiving notices of your disappearances? Why are my guards worried that you might be lacking in your efforts to keep this court standing?” Beron had asked before backhanding Eris in his office. “Should I be worried about your not-so-subtle trips to the forests?”
The excuse had fallen from his mouth naturally, like he had always planned. Testing the borders for possible threats, assuring the outer posts were functioning correctly, searching the ground with his hounds.
Eris had swallowed every hit and humiliation with a tight jaw, only answering when he was spoken to. He had closed you off the bond and hoped to be strong enough for you not to notice. Then, Beron’s had asked him that damned question and his resolution had cracked.
“You look distracted lately, maybe that’s why you keep forgetting to update me about your whereabouts” Beron snarled, as if the sight of the blood spilled by his hand unsettled him. Then, he locked his eyes with Eris and fire danced behind them, and he smiled. “Maybe it’s the recent lack of servants what has your mind busy. Strange and unexplained disappearances, right?”
He was sure Beron had bought his indifference, or he wouldn’t have let him go. But he still raced through the hallways, a bad feeling twisting his gut. Running would catch too much attention, yet he knew leaving after his father’s questions was an answer by itself.
Eris prayed to the Cauldron, to whoever had unanswered his prayers through his life, that he arrived to the cabin with enough time to make things right. If Beron was asking about missing servants, he could only be talking about you. The kind-hearted lesser fae who had the misfortune of being his mate.
Three years ago, Eris had almost burnt down the entire court one of his brothers got a little too handsy with you. As a servant, you were supposed to endure it and be thankful for his attention. But your heart belonged to Eris Vanserra in secret for almost a century, and you had denied his unrespectful advantages. That earned you a beating that had left you unconscious in the middle of the backyard, where Eris’ hounds had found you.
After weeks of healing in secret and convincing him not to slaughter his own court and find death at the hands of his father, only the promise of your safety had kept him still. He had taken you away to his hidden cabin, where you had been staying part of a cozy side-town, where no one recognized you.
Thoughts of the last three years flooded his mind as he jogged the last steps of the castle, quickly hoisting himself up in his horse and riding off into the forest. He pushed his mare to her limits, until the ground and the trees were nothing but blurry colors.
He wouldn’t waste time thinking why his father hadn’t acted yet, why he had been granted those few minutes to try and save you. The answer was clear when he smelt the uncharacteristic trace of blood in the quiet village.
Eris dismounted without stopping, his mare moving restlessly in the familiar cottage. His heart pushed furiously against his chest, blood rushing to his ears when he noticed the door hanging open by an unnatural angle. Male scents and horses’ prints were all over your hidden cabin.
“Y/N!” he screamed your name, not caring about anything but your safety. With everything about to change, he could throw secrecy as the last of his priorities. “My love, where are you?”
No answer came from the outskirts of the house, and Eris all but threw himself inside. The beating he had just endured almost sent him stumbling to the ground.
The insides of the cabin were a mess, just like his soul. Scattered papers and wooden furniture, broken plates, shattered windows. Fire embers started to fill the messy space as his laborious breathing turned panicked. He leaned against the wall where pictures lay now crooked, and tried to think what to do.
Where to look, who to kill, how to survive knowing his worst nightmare had come true. Eris had always feared having a mate, having someone to love and that loved him back, because he knew the world would take it away cruelly.
What he didn’t expect was the stairs creaking under your weight, and your disheveled head poking through the stairwell. Your eyes widened, at his state, his presence, or his blood. But he didn’t consider much apart from the fact that you were still breathing, somehow, and alive enough to be standing.
His body gravitated forward until you collided into his arms, the composure he had kept during the last hour crumbling like paper against water.
“Eris” you whispered against his chest and his breath hitched, your voice so concerned and soft against his worries. “What happened? Are you okay?”
“You’re alive. You’re alive” he repeated, twice, and willed himself to believe it. “I thought – the door was open, and you didn’t answer. Why didn’t you answer? I called. Didn’t you – didn’t –“
“I didn’t know if it was you. It’s been…”
You trailed off, it wasn’t necessary to acknowledge the obvious mess. Eris pressed you tighter against his chest. Just like those nights where nightmares consumed him, where his father’s reign of terror was too much, he hugged you so tight that your bones creaked under the pressure. You didn’t mind when it was the only thing holding him together.
It was silent for no longer than three seconds, the amount of time it took for the first and only tear to roll down his bruised cheek. If he let himself any more time, if he let his guard down, none of you would make it out of there alive.
Eris ignored the rough phantoms hands he could still feel on his body, the feeling of his father’s fingers tugging on his hair and crushing his throat. His touch was soft and careful as he pulled you away and inspected you with bright eyes. Only a gash on your cheek and a light limp on your left foot. Even if your dress was stained, he didn’t find any threatening injury.
He pushed the anger once more down his chest, until he turned it into resolution.
“How many?”
“Three of Beron’s personal guard. Rookie heard them before they came and I could hide” you motioned with your chin to the enormous dog that guarded the back door, on four and alert. “She took care of the first one, and the other two… it was them or me”
“You did well” Eris whispered, cupping your cheek and brushing his thumb under the bleeding wound. “Where are the bodies?”
Those deaths would haunt you for a while. His innocent, kind mate who had been the only one brave enough to risk sending him pain tonics after his father’s beatings. Who took care of his dogs when he couldn’t leave the bed, and stubbornly stayed by his side as he pushed you away.
Eris followed you silently to the first floor, to your bedroom. Where you had spent so many nights tangled together, now three bloodied bodies stood. He could identify which one had been finished by Rookie, their face unrecognizable. His father’s personal guard embroidery stood bright on their uniform, and it threatened to make him vomit.
He fished their bodies for weapons, ignoring the urge to kill them all over again slower a crueler. When he finished gathering what was worthy, he guided you out of the room, his arm around your shoulder.
“Don’t look” he advised you, pressing you tighter when your body trembled. “We’ll be okay”
You had talked about that outcome for three years, and you had spent each borrowed minute like the last one. It wouldn’t be forever, you understood, so you had crafted a plan. An emergency plan that you needed to carry out.
Eris didn’t let you take anything and you didn’t stop to grab your belongings as he lit fire to the cabin behind you. Each step you took made your knees tremble, knowing that Beron had once more managed to drown any hope in your life for your relationship.
Heat scorched both your backs as you exited the cabin, now full ablaze. Eris’ mare was dutifully waiting at the entrance, with the dozens of neighbors that were gathered in a half-circle. They all scattered when Eris walked out, and didn’t get to see how your knees finally gave out. With just one arm, he managed to keep you standing against his chest and grab the reins.
His whole body tensed under the weight of your sobs, that racked your body in sadness. Twice now, he had seen your life crumble because of him, because of who you loved and loved you back. Until Beron was dead, until his body was cold and forgotten, there wouldn’t be a place in Prythian safe from his hands.
And no matter how much it pained, only one was safe enough to last until he killed his father. Or died trying to.
“Y/N” he whispered against your sobs, against your desperation. He held you firmly as you shook your head in denial without looking up from his chest. “It’s time, my love. We don’t have much time”
Maybe his father was stupid enough to think three men were enough to kill you, but they hadn’t returned and Eris had left – and, surely, his father himself would come to end with his son’s happiness and will to live.
Shadows gathered around his feet, but he didn’t look to the owner nor acknowledge the new presences in his court, in his forest. He had long ago granted them access for that day, had supplied them information for his part of the bargain.
Rhysand and his court had kept their promise.
“I don’t want to” you cried, so hard and fearful that his resolve shook. Yet your safety, your life, had always been his one priority.
“It’s for the best. Look at me, Y/N” his voice didn’t harden, he didn’t slip into the mask he wore around them for your sake. “Y/N”
His own voice was broken too, with despair and agony. He too dreamed for a world where he could hold you freely, where he didn’t need his worst’s enemies help to keep his mate alive. But those dreams were not for people like him. Still, he held onto that thread of hope that he would make it through tonight. That, tomorrow, he would comfort you like you deserve, endure your berating about his selflessness and kiss your tears away.
When you finally looked at him, he smiled, ignoring the surprise radiating from his unusual partners. Eris waited until your sobs subsided and you calmed enough to accept the next step.
In silence, he let his eyes tell you everything he didn’t allow himself to say. How grateful he was for your soft hand when no one else dared to help you, for your patience words against his lashings when you helped him. How sorry for each and every scar you carried from his court, his brothers and father, and for not being able to give you the life you deserved.
How much he loved you, witch every fiber of his being, until he was nothing more than embers and ashes, and beyond.
Eris pressed his lips wordlessly against your forehead, his hands holding your head in place. Your own circled his scarred wrists. With the glamour off, everyone could see the scars and marks on his body. You caressed the rough skin and held him tight, until he tore apart.
“I love you. And if I die tonight, know that your love was what has kept me alive for so long” he watched your glossy eyes, your shaky lips. “I only burn for you, my little fox”
“They’re here” Azriel talked, his voice breaking your daydreaming.
A soft spark of proudness lighted in his chest when Azriel tried to gently guide you back and you brushed him off with a stern look. Your eyes, kind and loving for him, were hard and unforgiving for the spymaster. Eris knew they would treat you well, would take care of you, and was sure you would give them hell for him.
You looked at him one last time, sad resolution in your eyes, and kissed the edge of his lips before stepping away. With your torn dress and blood over you, you looked like every inch of mate he adored and cherished.
Azriel finally gripped your wrist with an annoyed frown, and shadows swarmed both your beings just as the first group of soldiers rounded the edge of the town. They wouldn’t be the problem, but the High Lord who rode behind. Eris didn’t allow any of his fears or worries show when he kept eye contact as you disappeared with Azriel.
“Come back for me” you begged him one last time, cracking once more his already broken heart. “Please, my prince. Come back”
“I love you”
He let those words be the last thing you heard from him. Eris was powerful, but his father could crush him like a leave under a boot. Maybe Rhysand would keep to his promise and keep you safe – and still loose you against his father’s armies. Eris was just happy knowing he would die knowing what being loved by you felt. How your arms felt around his shoulders, your breath against his neck.
Eris would die happy because you had chosen him when even he hadn’t chosen himself.
The sound of horses and men screaming got more intense when you disappeared, and the prince prepared himself to face one last battle. His fists lighted up with bright fire, his body vibrating with energy.
He expected a wave of angry soldiers from his right.
Not a stony-face Rhysand looking at him with a raised brow.
“You do love” he proclaimed, his voice laced with curiosity and something else. “I was tempted to believe she was just another one of your tricks. One that assured you your climb to the throne”
“I have business to attended, in case you can’t tell” Eris grumbled, letting loose the rage and anger. “So if you would be so kind, please fuck off”
The first round of autumn males broke through the left with raised swords and angry scowls. Some of them had fought by Eris’ side in the last war, some of them had been by his father’s side as he beat him.
Neither of their faces was marked in Eris’ memory, as they all vanished away to a terrible darkness that swept them off. As if they had never existed at all. The prince’s fire died down a bit as he looked at the High Lord, who had taken his hands out of his pocket and whose violet eyes were shinning dangerously.
For all explanation, Rhysand shrugged and gave away no intention of leaving with Azriel and his court.
“I made a bet on you when we made that bargain. A bet on a new high lord that would change things with me” Rhysand stared at him and Eris didn’t break eye contact, too stunned to speak. “Wasn’t certain it was the right bet, but now I am. I hope we both get to withdraw the price”
Without another word, the world was consumed in a wave of darkness, Beron’s power emerging not so far away. Eris let himself become fire in the dark, brighter than ever, and with the memory of your last smile and the possible hope of a world with you, he launched himself into battle.
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Brief summary in case you're new: Azriel tries to flirt with Elain but everything he does goes straight to you, a stranger. Now, Azriel wants to repeat all those steps and make it right. Prepare your dentist appointment because it's so SWEET IT WILL ROT YOUR TEETH
Plot: the story about how Azriel and you fell in love, taking all the right steps.
Missed target 1
The Suriel 1
Foreigners believed Velaris to be a sunny, cloudless place where trees grew magically and flowers bloomed on their own. But that was far from the truth.
That morning, the sky awoke covered by dark, looming clouds that vaccinated a storm. People looked refugee on their homes, and the streets of Velaris were empty by the time the firsts drop landed. Only few late customers rushed to finish their shopping – and the Suriel, who stared at his usual prey from a dark alley.
By then, the shadows greeted him like an old friend. They swarmed his feet and tangled between his fingers. No matter how distracting their touch was, he didn’t tear his eyes away from their master.
The shadowsinger was taking cover from the rain under a tiny awning, his wings stretched to widen the covered space. Under his left one, was a new figure – one the Suriel had known for a while, in his dreams, in his visions, but hadn’t met before. Your shape looked ridiculously small compared to the Illyrian warrior, who took every inch of space possible.
Your arms were wrapped tightly around his middle, face looking up at him with pure adoration. His wing tucked you closer when the rain poured harder, and you chuckled. The Suriel watched the male’s eyes widen at the sound, an easy smile drawing on his lips.
Lighting illumined the street and you only laughed harder, Azriel joining you. The Suriel couldn’t understand the joke, couldn’t share the connection of your bond. But he could feel what two mated hearts felt like, and he smiled content.
Planned date
Three dresses, all different, lay on your bed while you stared at them. The first one was dark blue, long and sleeveless. The second one, a rosy pink, had low sleeves that wrapped around the hands, and a cut under the right knee. Third one was bright green, decorated with roots and leaves in a darker tone.
You brushed your tongue through your lower lip deep in thinking. They all were beautiful, and probably appreciated by your date. But while you had never cared too much about make-up and Friday nights, you were panicking a little.
Maybe a lot.
Azriel had sent you a mysterious note that morning, asking you to be ready by eight. He hadn’t said anything else, just to choose something elegant, and that had led you to an afternoon of rushing and not getting anything done.
Your make-up was ready, your hair was ready. Only ten minutes before eight and you couldn’t decide what dress you wanted.
Blue was his color, but while the weeks following the snapping bond had been intense, maybe it was too soon. Rosy pink was sweet and innocent, not like the thoughts you had anytime Azriel was in your presence. And while you liked the green one, maybe it was too much.
You decided to close your eyes and let a random tune decided for you.
Rosy pink, it was.
Just when you were strapping your first shoe, a soft knock on your door broke the panicked silence of your house. You stumbled out your bedroom into the hallway while putting on the second one, and opened the door rather abruptly.
“Hello” Azriel gave you a side-smile, not saying anything about the rush.
“Hi”
His hazel eyes traveled down to your feet and back to your eyes, and if that look wasn’t enough to make your knees tremble, a pink dust covered his tanned cheeks. His wings fluttered behind him slightly, and he cleared his throat. With his hands behind his back and his messy locks, Azriel looked like a boy. And that made some of the tension in your shoulder drop.
“May I take a beautiful lady for dinner?” he offered you his arm. “You look… perfect”
“You look like a dinner itself”
His laugh resonated through the whole neighborhood, and your nerves died with it. Indeed, you would have eaten Azriel up right there and then. He was wearing a shirt with the first two buttons undone, letting you peek at the tattoos underneath.
The night was cold enough for you to drop your coat around, but Azriel was carrying his in his free arm. He had rolled up the sleeves and you barely resisted the urge of running your hands through his muscles. The hard, warm muscles you could feel under your grip, and that had you matching his blush.
You closed the door behind you and matched your step with his, not knowing where he was taking you.
It was the first time you two went out together. After a night that ended way too quickly where you could only stare at your new mate, he had accompanied you in silence to your house. Since then, you had shared more letters and ‘accidentals’ meetings when you would proposedly walk in front of his house.
Walking down the streets by his arm, not knowing if you were allowed to call it your first date, threatened to eat you alive.
“How can I be sure you’re not about to murder me?” you asked trying to light the awkward mood.
“If I were, I wouldn’t be leaving my fingertips all over you” he answered with a faint chuckle. “And I wouldn’t be wearing the only nice shirt I have”
“I would be more convinced if you let me know where we are going”
“But then I would ruin the surprise” Azriel looked down and met your eyes. Then, after a beat of silence, talked again. “How was your day?”
Just like that, you fell into an easy conversation with him. Through the letters, you were used to telling him about pointless things – he knew where you worked, who were your friends, how you lived. You knew about his family too, about his line of work and even some of his past. You had even met Cassian two days ago when him and Azriel had stumbled upon you in the market.
The male had been delighted to meet you, apparently aware of the missed attempts of courting Elain that led Azriel to you. He was loud, a little intrusive and funny, and you already liked him.
The streets were crowded that night, although you were surprised to notice that people kept his distance when you were with him. Azriel didn’t seem to think about it, just listened to you with rapt attention, so you ignored them too. However, you did use the opportunity to walk a tad closer to him, just two inches – enough to feel his body heat and scene, that had your head spinning for a second.
You walked down the streets until you reached your destination, that you wouldn’t have noticed had him not stopped.
Neon lights shone above the restaurant, and you could read the sign Silver Spoon. You stared at the name and Azriel stared at you with a hopeful smile. Feeling his feelings through the bond still felt strange, not knowing where that emotion came from, but it didn’t shake your grounding like the first time.
You instantly felt bad when you watched and felt his hope, waiting for you to say something. Staring once more at the restaurant, you could only admire the elegance of it. You had never been taken on a date somewhere so nice, and the fact that Azriel expected something from you threatened to break the fantasy.
“It’s… lovely” you smiled softly at him, trying not to let him down.
“You don’t remember, right?”
When you didn’t answer, Azriel only smiled wider and opened the door for you. You instantly missed his warmth, and as soon as the door closed behind you, you wasted no time in returning to the original position. Azriel didn’t say anything else as he asked for his reservation and you were led to a table by the window. From there, you could see a beautiful garden illuminated faintly, almost like a dream.
Azriel was still silent as he pulled your chair back and you thanked him quietly. Before you could wonder if he was disappointed or not, he took his own chair and moved it next to you. You stared as he moved his plate, vase and napkin, and when he was finished, he sat in his new seat.
From there, your knees brushed slightly. Your hands found each other in the middle as you searched for his presence and him for yours. Like a trained dance, you let them rest on his thigh, fingers fitting like a match made by fate.
Soft music resonated in the restaurant while other couples dinned not too far away. In the middle of the table, a rose sweetened the atmosphere.
“This is where we first met” Azriel started. “I had been dumped and I was about to leave in a horrible mood. And then, this stranger comes up to me smelling so divine that I couldn’t think about anything else. She looked so good, so perfect, that I looked like an idiot as she told me she had been stood up too. Then I left and kept thinking about her the whole night”
“You were kind of dumb” you admitted, suddenly aware of the place he had chosen. Of the table he had reserved. “But you were cute”
“Oh, that’s such a kind thing to say about a man who spatted his name at you and stumbled out like a headless deer”
Your shoulders shook with laughter, and a few heads turned to look at you. When he mentioned it, you remembered that night – a friend had set you up with a male who didn’t show up. You remembered thinking Azriel had ran away from your pointless chattering, going home kind of disappointed.
Even though not even four months had gone by since that first encounter, you felt like a life had been spent. You thanked the Cauldron that male hadn’t shown up, because if being stood up meant you would meet Azriel, then you would have waited a thousand years.
Azriel lifted your joined hands to his lips and pressed them to yours. They felt soft and perfect, and you could only wonder and hope you would feel them on other parts too. Smiling at him was the only way you kept your mouth shut from those thoughts.
However, his eyes darkened and lowered to your mouth, as if he could feel and share what you were thinking. His throat bobbed lightly and your toes curled involuntarily in your shoes. Azriel forced himself to look away and lower your hands, because he wasn’t about to cause a second bad impression in the same restaurant.
“Y/N, I…” Azriel started, and seemed to shake whatever insecurities crowded him. “You know how I was, not was, but wanted to be with someone. When I met you. And that the flowers, and the dinner, and…”
“I know” you cut him off, and it was your turn to squeeze your joined hands. “And I don’t care, I really don’t. It brought you to me, the Cauldron, fate or whatever you want to call it. That’s all I care about”
“You’re making it really hard not to kiss you right now”
Before you could answer, the waiter appeared to take your note and you quickly ordered the first thing in the menu, not bothering to hide your blush or the shakiness of your voice. Azriel scoffed his order and the waiter left.
And that time, you couldn’t keep your eyes off his mouth, the way he licked his lips and smiled at you knowingly. You only whished you would end your night way closer than that dinner.
The market
It was cold, too cold to leave the comfort of your house. You had left your fuzzy socks in your wardrobe and exchanged them for thick boots, that would probably do little against the snow in the streets. That winter had been cruel and unforgivable that year, almost every day started with a blizzard or a storm.
Still, you needed to eat and clothe, and while you had minimized your interactions with other people to the minimum, you were finally forced to leave.
Azriel had been part of that cozy routine lately. Long nights in your house, sitting by the fire and just listening to his beautiful voice. Sometimes you just enjoyed the silence, the soft touches you shared.
He had made his petition known after your first date, and you could only agree – to take things slow, to get to know each other and not get rushed because of the bond. While it was proved to be hard when he looked at you with that devotion, you were keeping the promise.
Strong wind broke you out of your happy memories as you opened the door, and you shivered before setting a foot outside. You tucked the coat tighter around your body and quickly closed the door, although it didn’t stop some of the snow from sneaking inside.
You turned around to be met with a familiar chest. Somehow, before you looked up, you knew who he was.
“Az” you blinked surprised at your mate, who looked way less cold than you. “What are you doing here?”
“You told me you had to go shopping today. So I thought some company would be nice” he smiled at you. “Unless you plan to meet with your secret lover”
“He’s hiding under the bed” you raised a teasing brow. “I would never subdue him to such a cruel weather”
“Lucky for you, I grew up in the mountains”
Azriel pushed you close to his body and your boots pushed against the snow. Indeed, Azriel’s body temperature was already higher than you, and you had just walked out of your house. The market was not far from your house, just a few streets away, and you walked as quickly as the snow let you.
Fresh flakes covered your cheeks and hair, but you could have walked for days straight if Azriel was holding you against him.
People were already used to seeing you and the shadowsinger, and some of your neighbors gave you a short nod in greeting. Some of them even stopped you to talk to him, since he was the big incorporation to your little neighborhood. From cleaning their entrances of snow to catching their cats when they ran away, Azriel’s popularity was increasing.
You cherished the routine, the normality, of it. A dumb smile froze your face and you couldn’t let it down, not when Azriel greeted them back and even joked with them. When you reached the markets, you were considering turning back from the cold that had settled in your bones.
“Where first?” Azriel asked, looking between the hidden stands and shops.
“Andreas’ shop. She already has my order ready, we just need to pick it up” you motioned her local with your chin. “Hopefully I’ll keep all my fingers intact”
“Aren’t you a bit dramatic?” he scoffed.
Still, he sneaked his hand into your pocket and you could have moaned when his warm fingers wrapped around yours. You would have gladly taken your hands out and let him warm them, but even that was risking too much. With a grateful smile that barely replaced the urge to kiss him, you continued walking.
Azriel proved to be the best shopping companion. Not only he didn’t argue when you spent minutes doubting between two goods, but he also carried each and every bag. You teased him about dropping everything to the ground, which got you a playful glare.
It got the point where he wouldn’t let you use your hands to take the items. He would just ask you to point at them and then proceed to put them himself inside a bag.
The morning rolled away quickly between laughs, shopping and side-hugs that anticipated way more. It seemed that once Azriel had discovered how your laugh sounded, how it rattled his bones and soul, he was done for. Everything he said and made was aimed to repeat that sound, and he could have heard it for his eternity.
Not wanting the day to end, he didn’t mention when you opened the door for him, and you didn’t comment how he took his boots off at the entrance, at the familiar empty place by yours. While you unbuttoned layer after layer of clothes, Azriel filled your counters with groceries and put them away in the cupboards.
You found yourself watching him from the living room, as he moved around like he owned the place. He eventually noticed you hadn’t joined him, and he turned around. With his grey sweater and cargo pants, you wondered how much you needed to know him you wanted to have that sight for the rest of your life.
“Staring your fill?”
“Just making sure you won’t put poison in my coffee” you left your spot to walk towards him.
“I wouldn’t dream to mess with your coffee” Azriel showed his hands up. “Only between the spices”
Something electric brushed your arm when you walked around him, and it wasn’t the usual shadow that accompanied you lately. Something deeper, meaningful, that had you sharing a long look. It was hard to ignore what the bond demanded, what your soul asked you to do, but it felt weirdly nice to take things slow.
You had never imagined yourself with someone like Azriel, and he hadn’t even dreamed to find a bond so deep. Navigating it felt at the same time too slow and too fast. Your heartrate spiked up in his presence, but also warmed and felt like home.
You casted a quick look to the groceries, and then stared out the window. The blizzard was still going, and wouldn’t stop for a while.
“If you intend to poison me” you started, trying to not stutter when his hand found yours and his fingers brushed your palm. “Maybe you can stay for lunch”
“Seems like a solid plan for me”
You turned around and away from his grasp before you could share more than an innocent lunch.
The flowers
A soft knock on your door forced you to tear your eyes away from the book you were reading. A book from Azriel, that had captured you from the first chapter. You blinked the fogginess away and concluded that, while the book had taken your mind off for a while, your body felt just as tired.
You had been feeling sick for two days in a row, your cycle on full blast. Stiff limps, painful cramps and trembling knees were only a part of it. Between the heavy bleeding of the first days and the winter roaring outside, you hadn’t left the house yet. You had told Azriel about it, and he had respectfully kept his distance as you asked.
So, without him to keep you company, you weren’t expecting anyone.
Another beat of silence rolled by, and you waited for whoever was knocking to leave. Your legs were tucked under a warm blanket, and it had taken you a while to find the right position. Just when your eyes fell back to the book, another knock, that time stronger, broke the silence.
You would have ignored it too, but then black tendrils seeped through the bottom of the door and crawled to you. They tickled your face as you swatted them away, the book falling shut on the ground. Azriel’s shadows, that were always nearby when you two were together, bugged you until you couldn’t contain your smile.
They must have warned their master, and sensed your state, because you watched half-amazed half-worried how they easily played with your lock and opened the door. It was pushed open gently by Azriel, who offered you an apologetic shrug.
“Hey” you smiled, sitting up straight. “Don’t you have an emergency key?”
“Wanted to make sure I was welcomed first” Azriel stepped inside and the door closed behind him. “They didn’t agree”
“As long as the door isn’t broken”
Azriel walked with his hands behind his back the short steps that separated you, and you were grateful for the change of smell. Instead of the heavy herbs of your heating pads, he brought a fresh, natural scent that managed to lower the pain a tad.
He was wearing his training leathers and winter coat unbuttoned, and judging by the incoming bruise of his cheek, he had just finished his session with Cassian. Unknowns to you, it had been him who had thrown Azriel out of the training ring and forced him to come and see you.
Your mate was so out of it that he had been tackled to the ground twice. The general had only needed a short explanation before cutting their training short, and Azriel hadn’t complained. He had just made a brief stop before coming to your house.
When he reached the coffee table, he knelt on one knee and took the bouquet from behind his back. He watched as your eyes widened and your cheeks blushed. Flowers were hard to find during that time of the year, but Elain had been more than happy to help him. They were colorful, and under the notice you wouldn’t remember, the same he had once given you without meaning to.
“How are you feeling?” Azriel asked as he handed you the bouquet, watching you take it in slowly. You peeled the first layer off to stare at the hidden ones, breathing them softly.
“The same. It’s no big deal, I’ll be off for a few days and back on my feet like nothing happened. Perks of being female” you finally looked at him, and he lost his train of thought at the brightness of your eyes. “Thank you”
You couldn’t resist yourself and leaned forward, until Azriel was within your reach. His eyes didn’t move from a spot behind your as his whole body tensed when you cupped his cheek, that carried the stubble of a few days. It was rough against your palm, cold from the weather outside.
You moved his face to the right until you could place a light kiss to his cheek – more than his cheek, you had to admit, the corner of his mouth. From that close, you heard how his breath hitched. Maybe it was your cycle that made you bolder, because apart from holding hands and hugging, you hadn’t yet kissed.
Not even a kiss in the cheek, which had been your original intention.
But you couldn’t help and move a little to the right, catching the edge of his lip. So close yet so far from where you wanted to kiss him, where you had wanted to since the bond snapped. You left your lips there for half a second that, for Azriel, felt like an eternity.
Then you tore away and Azriel finally looked at you, his eyebrows rising. He blinked and begged himself to do something other than knelt at your feet, although he knew he had been in that position metaphorically since you met.
“I should put them in water” you mentioned, like you hadn’t just shaken his world.
He offered himself quietly to do so for you, gathering the flowers and getting up with just a misstep. Which, given the speed of his thoughts at the moment, was a great achievement.
Azriel ended up staying with you that night, heating the pad for you every now and then and holding you against him when the cramps made you curl in a tight ball. He didn’t complain when you whined in pain and cursed the Cauldron for the injustice, nor let you even think about apologizing for the inconvenience.
The flowers were put in a beautiful jar in the middle of the kitchen, and lasted almost a week. When the weather and time ended with them, Azriel helped you dry them and keep them like a physical memory of that beautiful night.
The dance
It wasn’t unusual for the inner circle to celebrate parties, but many of them were intimate. Rhysand and Feyre loved to share special moments with their family, and since that first dinner where you had been officially introduced as Azriel’s mate, you had become part of it.
You would have thought it’d be awkward at the beginning, centuries of friendship against a newcomer. But they all had warmed around you in a matter of hours. From all of them, Cassian was who you connected quicker with, sharing the same humor and care for Azriel.
Winter solstice had finally arrived after a cold winter, and you had been invited as Azriel’s partner. The girls, who now you considered your friends, had almost forced you to follow tradition and get ready together, so you had gathered your clothes in a bag and left your house early.
Not that it made you any good, as Mor took a quick look at your belongings and casted them aside in favor of an elegant black dress.
“You look stunning, Y/N” Feyre complimented you as you stared at yourself in the mirror.
“That’s one way to say it. I know for sure whose pants are going to be tight tonight” Mor added, earning a sharp look from Feyre and a loud laugh from Nesta. “And you haven’t even kissed him? Not even a quick peck?”
“You don’t have to answer” Elain reminded you from where she was finished her make-up. “She’ll keep this up for ages”
“We want to take things slow” you admitted, finally looking away from the mirror to your new friends. “The bond makes things different, and we barely knew each other before it snapped. So it’s our way to, I guess, make it real”
“That’s nice, I didn’t – “
“Well, I, for one, knelt before Cassian way before I knew his favorite color”
Mor snorted so hard she choked on her breath, Elain turned to look at her sister with a deep blush and Feyre just looked done with Nesta. You, for once, couldn’t tell them how much you imagined yourself doing so. In how many positions you had put Azriel in your mind, how many innocent touching had turned into deep thinking about what you would do.
You finished way later than the boys, it seemed, as Cassian was already half-drunk and Lucien had a healthy redness on his cheeks. As they all greeted each other, you were caught off guard from just how good Azriel looked.
He was full in navy blue, from his unbuttoned shirt that never seemed to let you see enough to his trousers that left little to imagination. He rose as soon as you walked in, taking a small box that was resting in the table with him.
His eyes did a quick check-up on you, and when they rose back to yours, his pupils were slightly bigger. Azriel left little space between your bodies, and you would have gladly left them to enjoy the festivity on their own hadn’t been by his hand taking yours delicately.
He opened the box and you blinked surprised at the shiny and beautiful ring that was hidden inside. In silence, he took it out and put it on your finger, his touch warm and safe.
“I brought Elain a stupid bracelet at Feyre’s birthday. It was a sad excuse to convince myself I still liked her, because you were already driving me mad without meaning to” he spoke quietly, rotating the new ring on your finger. “It seems that happened a life away”
“It’s perfect” you couldn’t help yourself when your voice broke a little. “I love it”
Azriel smiled, content with himself, and you realized the rest of the group had already left for the main dining room. Someone had closed the door to give you privacy, and you silently thanked them because you didn’t feel like breaking down in front of your new family.
The ring was your size, and it looked not big nor small. Perfect. You had troubles trying to voice the thoughts that threatened to make you cry, from joy and happiness, and Azriel seemed to understand them all.
His arm circled your waist and pushed you closer to him, your hands still together. He laced his fingers with your and you naturally rested your free hand against his shoulder. You brushed the short hairs of his neck, anything to make you feel grounded when you felt like flying.
“Y/N. My Y/N” Azriel muttered, his eyes drinking your emotions. “I could talk about this until my deathbed, but I guess you already know it, don’t you?”
“You made it all right, hm?”
It wasn’t a question, more like a statement. Azriel had mentioned before the first date that he wanted to fix every attempt he poorly made at courting Elain that reached you. The date, the market, the flowers, and now the stupid gift. He wordlessly swayed both of you a few steps, and you broke into a wet chuckle, knowing you wouldn’t make it through the whole dance without throwing yourself in his arms.
Azriel had been convinced Elain was the match for him.
She made his giddy, nervous, wanted. Everything he felt was always missing something, that he searched in her without noticing she just didn’t have it. Didn’t hold the piece of soul that was hidden in your bond.
Azriel’s own eyes looked glossy when he stopped the brief movements and turned his head to the right. You felt his breath against your lips when he talked, your noses brushes.
“May I kiss you now?”
You didn’t answer or wait for him to kiss you. Lifting your heels an inch, you pressed your lips against him and the world exploded. It was sweet and salty and every flavor you had ever tasted. Like a sunny night in summer or a windy day in winter.
The first tear rolled down your cheek, or maybe it was his. Azriel pushed your body closer until your back arched and your feet didn’t touch the ground. With both arms around your waist, Azriel lifted you up as you crashed your lips against him like a storm.
They danced wonderfully together, your hand tangling in his so-carefully tamed hair that was already getting loose. His tongue asked for permission and you gladly granted him. He explored every inch of your mouth, as if he was marking it into his memory to never forget it.
Eventually, you broke apart from air, and the room was brighter. He didn’t lower you and you didn’t tear your eyes away from him. You opened your heart and searched for the right words, that had been there since Feyre’s birthday.
“My mate” you whispered, watching the words sink into his heart and resonate with love and adoration. “My Az”
He swallowed the next words in another kiss, snow gathering in the window of the room. Even if it was cold and your presence was required a room away, you were warm and felt at home in his arm. So, you didn’t complain when walked with you still on his arms on the opposite way.
You barely registered Cassian’s loud laugh or his shadows closing doors behind you.
Only the feeling of your mate in your arms, and the warmth in your heart.
The Suriel 2
He hadn’t been invited – he never was. The Suriel wasn’t created for those types of things, and human or fae traditions were meaningless. Still, he had snuck in before the doors closed and lurked in the shadows when the guests filled the room.
At least two of the attendances had noticed him but hadn’t said anything. The shadows that covered him like an accomplice weren’t enough to cover him from the ancient creature’s sight. The woman had stared down at him from her short height and deemed him inoffensive, given she was standing next to her family without warning them.
The High Lord also noticed his presence, but had too ignored it. The Suriel didn’t know how to feel about it – or about his presence. He shouldn’t be there; he had never done so. But the shadowsinger story was too interesting, too consuming, not to follow.
He had not pushed the strings of fate only to miss the end.
The palace room fell quiet as a beautiful woman walked down the aisle. He watched Azriel’s eyes brighten from his corner, how his wings shivered with emotion when you walked closer, about to settle your bond with an official ceremony. His family surrounded him, his mate walked towards him, and the scarred and devasted boy was finally comforted.
“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”
“Fate has granted you with great things, my boy. You just have to be patient. And you will beat them all”
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!
Azriel taglist:
@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend
Missed target taglist (will be added if I make a second part)
Here it is! So many people asked to be tagged on this I got OVERWHELMED. Thanks for the love!I'm thinking about a second part where Azriel decides to repeat all the missed efforts and treat you like the queen you are. Let me know what you think.
Plot: Azriel is convinced Elain was made for him. Three sisters for three brothers, and no one can make him change his mind. But someone or something is determinated to change the course of fate on his behalf. No matter how hard he tries.
The Suriel 1
The Suriel watched the shadowsinger sharpen his blades in the forest, oblivious to his presence. Not even his shadows could detect the ancient creature, and he was proud of that. Of all the beings that he had seen, all the people that had summoned him, Azriel was who drew his curiosity.
Maybe the male in front of him didn’t remember, or maybe he did but had decided not to tell a soul about it. The Suriel did remember, and he had been observing since that night where a young, scarred and devasted Azriel had summoned him.
“What is wrong with me? Why does nobody love me? I want to know – I want to know if someone will love me, please”
The child didn’t understand what a Suriel was, or what type of questions he could answer. Still, the Suriel held the sobbing kid for one night, just one night, and let himself wonder what would it be to feel, to dream, like fae and humans did.
Something changed in the male’s stance, a muscle twitching in his left wing, and the Suriel knew he didn’t have much time left before he was noticed. He risked another glance at the unmoving figure, shadows surrounding the clearing where he stood.
As he vanished from the sight, the Suriel smiled briefly, oddly happy that that kid’s broken questions were about to be answered.
Missed date
Azriel liked Elain, more than he should. He liked her innocence, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, her full lips and thin waist. He liked the dresses she wore and the flowers she grew, even the way her voice sounded when she said his name. He liked liked her, and felt like a foolish teen when she was around.
Rhysand had warned him against it, and the Archeron sister had a mate – but still, Azriel hoped Elain would like him back. Even though he had been with plenty of women before, that time it felt different, and he didn’t know why.
Ignoring the signs against his desires, he had decided to act on his feelings.
Azriel had invited Elain to have dinner with him that night, in a lovely restaurant in Velaris. Sure, he might have said Cassian and Nesta were coming, and then proceeded to invite the couple knowing they wouldn’t even make it out of the bedroom with their clothes on. The plan had gone just fine – Cassian and Nesta had talked about it during lunch time, giving the impression it was just a friendly dinner, and then proceeded to lock themselves in their room for the rest of the day. Elain had smiled and asked about the hour, and Azriel had chosen his best shirt.
But the Cauldron musth have had other plans, because another minute passed by and he was sitting by himself in the restaurant, getting strange looks from the staff.
“Are you ready to order?”
He looked up to the waiter, with a tight smile on his face. Azriel guessed they were debating if kicking him out was worth angering the spymaster of the court.
“Still waiting” he grumbled, looking to the closed doors. “What time is it?”
“Nine thirty, sir. Would you like to… drink something?”
“Water is fine”
They had agreed to meet at nine, and part of him refused to think he had been stood up. That sweet, charming Elain who blushed under his gaze wouldn’t show up. He tried to come up with a reason behind her absence, and was sure there was a reasonable one, but he felt his excitement die as the clock ticked away.
Azriel pursed his lips when the waiter didn’t leave, not meeting his eyes. He would leave, but he would wait a little longer. For her sake, he would wait until the sun came up. The male cleared his throat and Azriel stared at the plants decorating the entrance.
It was a nice plant.
“Is the person you’re waiting for coming soon?”
“If she was, I wouldn’t be waiting here” his words were bitter, not towards the waiter, but at the situation.
“Maybe you could move to the counter and wait there, sir? I… there are customers waiting and – “
Before the man could dig his own grave further, Azriel pushed his chair back and walked towards said counter with his jacket on his arm. He refused to look at the waiter and let him know just how embarrassed he was, how disappointed in himself and in her.
The restaurant had a small counter where some couples shared their food and friends drank loudly. He damned his luck for choosing the busiest day to be stood up. Scanning the crowd, he found an empty seat at the corner and sat on a stool, ordering a beer.
Alcohol would only make it worse, but he guessed he was already done for. Ten more minutes, he promised himself. If Elain didn’t walk through those doors in the next ten minutes, he would leave and apologize to Rhys for his stubbornness.
Two minutes passed by, and he grew sick of watching the couple in front of him giggling in secrets.
Another three, and he counted each plant that decorated the restaurant. There were twenty-five without the artificial ones.
Seven minutes after his first beer, the waiter asked him if he wanted anything else and he just growled back.
His fingers were clenching painfully around the hem of his jacket when the ten minutes passed by. He was ready to get up when something sweet and floral hit his nose, leaving his mind blank for a second. Azriel blinked surprised at the smell, distinct from the elegant ones in the restaurant. With half smile, he turned to his right hoping to see Elain, pleasantly surprised with her choice of perfume.
Only that the woman who sat next to him wasn’t Elain, but another fae woman with a similar smell. Azriel scanned her outfit before you noticed him, before he could reprimand himself for checking you out.
You were wearing a loose blue and bright skirt with an elegant top, that left part of your collarbone visible. He felt something rush to his chest up to his cheeks while he stared at the smooth skin, and he willed himself to look up to your face.
“Guess this is where they discard the stood up, hm?” you looked at him and he blinked surprised. “I’ve been sitting next to the window for an hour now. I don’t think he’s showing up”
“Who?” Azriel asked dumbly, not thinking anything better.
“My friend set me up on a blind date, but he didn’t show up. At least the bread was good” you shrugged, finally looking away from Azriel. “Hi. Can I get a soda?”
Azriel felt his previous resolution of leaving the restaurant dissolve. You smelt just like her, but so different at the same time. Your voice still reverberated on his chest as you waited for your drink, stealing glances at the silent male at your side. It was strange for him to have his throat swallowing back the words that he wanted to say, have his mind blank of any comeback.
But as he stared at you, he wondered if you were a witch and had casted a spell on him.
“Are you… my date?” you finally asked when your soda came back, looking him up and down. “I’ve seen you standing here for a while”
“I’m Azriel”
“I don’t know the name of my date” you stated, and Azriel just prayed that you wouldn’t notice the shadows he couldn’t control revolving around your feet. “I’m Y/N”
“No”
He begged himself to say something else, to break the awkward silence or leave. After all, he had gone to that restaurant to meet Elain, not a stranger who had been stood up. But all the wit and intelligence that had won him the title of Shadowsinger and Spymaster seemed to seep away through his pores, and he couldn’t get back any of it.
You smiled at him tightly and turned to look around, finally breaking eye contact. Azriel got up without saying anything else and walked towards the doors, leaving a generous amount of money on the counter. You didn’t say goodbye and he didn’t bother looking back, his body stiff with your awkward encounter.
When he arrived to the house, he found a very regretful and very sick Elain who had been in bed all afternoon. She apologized again and again until he forced her back in bed and tucked her in. They agreed they would repeat again, sometime, but Azriel found himself less excited than that morning. He didn’t blame her – he couldn’t, when he had seen how her knees trembled with coughs and had heard her stuffy voice.
As he laid down that night in this enormous bed, his shadows didn’t whisper about Elain or brought back her smell, that most nights didn’t let him sleep. They caressed his hands in silence, with the memory of a sweet, floral smell that didn’t belong to the girl he liked.
The market
Rhysand and Cassian were away for a week, and while Azriel usually missed his brothers, that time he was beyond himself. Not only he wouldn’t be hearing Nesta and Cassian’s late-night activities, but he would be alone with his favorite Archeron sister, since Feyre and Nesta had decided to leave too.
There were plans for them, big ideas that he had crafted the previous night as he laid awake in the dark. The first one, most important, would be to find an excuse to talk to Elain.
She had left for the market as Azriel completed his morning training, and the male didn’t miss how she blushed at his presence. She had explained briefly her plans to him and had left in a rush. Azriel, who religiously trained each day, decided to postpone his activities and refill the house’s pantry.
It took him a while to come up with something to buy, even longer to gather the courage to follow his plan. By the time he was walking through the lively market-street, he was certain Elain would be leaving.
But he was lucky, because he spotted the familiar head a few stands away. Azriel felt the usual acceleration of his heart rhythm, the blood rushing to his head. His wings fluttered and he walked with little decision to where Elain was buying some fruits.
It seemed, with so little decision, that she moved away before he could reach him.
The game of cat and mouse continued for what felt like forever, Azriel only sniffling her before she left to a new stand. The street seemed endless, and the buyers too talkative and pushy. They bumped against his wings, apologized, and proceeded to block his way in awe for five to ten seconds.
When he saw Elain holding enough bags to cause him a backpain, he decided pushing people in return was worthy and walked faster.
Before she could complain, he picked up her bags from her arms carefully, resisting the urge of flinching at how heavy they were.
“Here, let me” Azriel extended his free arm, watching without looking up as it filled slowly with more bags. “These are heavy. What do we need so much food for?”
“Are you planning to eat it with me?”
Azriel looked up and stared into a pair of bright eyes that certainly weren’t Elain’s. Nor was your hair pulled back in a ribbon, or the worn-out cape hanging from your frame. His shadows helpfully recognized you from the missed date and awkward encounter, and he blinked surprised.
He opened and closed his mouth. Proudly, he could argue that only few times someone managed to make him speechless. But he didn’t find anything to say as he held half of your bags, looking a caught thief.
Your smile lowered at his surprise. Surely, you expected a kind stranger helping you with your heavy groceries, not him. Just as he didn’t expect you.
“Can I… have that back?” you asked when he didn’t move, only stared at you. “Please?”
The standard, cordial reaction would have been to apologize and carry the bags for you. If Azriel’s brain hadn’t stopped functioning, he would have explained he had confused you with someone else and would be on his merry way to find Elain.
But his heart wouldn’t stop beating stubbornly against his chest, loudly on his ears. His shadows, that you had noticed by now, were tangling themselves between your knees, holding part of the weight themselves.
He tried not to make it too obvious when he inhaled your essence, so characteristically nice. Instead of doing any of the rational things, he dropped your bags to the ground with a loud crack and a wet splash and turned around, disappearing into the crowd.
The flowers
Feyre had given him the directions, and he had quickly written them on a piece of paper as his high-lady prepared Nyx’s bottle, cradled the fussy baby and ate her own breakfast.
He was extremely thankful for her help, because she had also had the idea to give Elain a bouquet of flowers. Azriel felt bad about ignoring her for the two days they were alone, too busy trying to regain what was left of his dignity after the market. So, he had prepared the flowers and put them together with a blue ribbon, and had asked Feyre where Elain was staying.
He had walked through the streets of Velaris with a content smile, humming to himself in silence. His shadows were active that morning, dancing between his feet and knees, and tangling themselves in the flowers. He couldn’t explain the sudden urge of joy if not for the imminent encounter with Elain, who had been on his mind for two days straight.
The rays of sun warmed his cheeks, and he felt extremely lucky.
It only took him ten minutes to reach his destination, a busy street in the center of the town. People sneaked glances at him and whispered, as if he wouldn’t hear them. Azriel stopped in front of a white wooden door. It looked old and worn, and matched the pots with flowers on the window. It was a cozy house, exactly what Azriel had imagined Elain’s house to be.
She had moved out a few months ago, claiming she needed her own space. And he had yet to visit her place – which, once he realized he was about to do it for the first time, made him kind of nervous.
Azriel stood in front of the door, his frame covering the whole space. Between his shoulders and wings he shadowed it, and he felt weirdly insecure. Something fell to the ground inside, probably a bag, and even though he knew Elain would be inside, Azriel recoiled back.
In a pathetic attempt to make his intention known, he raised his fist.
Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.
Don’t throw them on her like a burning pot.
Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.
Try to smile without looking creepy.
Knock, give her the flowers, apologize, leave.
He heard soft humming from the inside, and the fact that it was the exact same melody he had been humming on his way there threatened to give him a heart attack. Before he could think better, he quickly searched his pocket for a pen while trashing for the tag of the bouquet.
In the meantime, he heard the humming coming closer and closer to the door. It was a sweet melody, one he had loved since he was a kid, that brought a selfish smile to his face. Who was the world to tell him they weren’t meant to be, if their minds aligned like that?
Azriel found the pen and, leaning against the brick wall, scribbled down a quick note on the tag. His handwritten was shaky, not neat nor perfect, and he felt a bead of sweat rolling down the corner of his neck.
Once he was finished, he tucked the tag between the stems and placed the bouquet delicately on the ground. He mentally kicked himself at his stupidity, and when he rose back, he crossed his arms in front of his chest.
He was the shadowsinger. The spymaster. People feared him, respected him, and he had had enough women in his bed to know he could get them. They liked him, men and women, and he had never had an issue before. And there he was, leaving a bouquet of flowers like a coward because he couldn’t knock.
All because of the stupid melody.
His impulsive thoughts won again and he crouched to write down his name at the bottom of the note. Only having his good luck ran out and knock his head against a pot when he rose back up. Azriel cursed under his breath at the sharp pain, but wasn’t fast enough to catch the pot.
He didn’t know what worried him most – that he was sad because the humming stopped, or that it stopped. Azriel didn’t need his fae hearing or shadows to hear the approaching steps, and he quickly retreated into the darkness. Just as he appeared in the other corner of the streets, hidden from the public’s eye, the door opened.
“Hello?”
Azriel let his lips part in surprise when Elain didn’t peer at the street, but you. The stranger with a memorizing smell that had been stood up. The girl whose bags he had dropped in the middle of the street.
You were wearing a stained apron, and had been clearly cooking. Azriel felt the sudden need to know what. What you were doing that made you look like that, that made Azriel’s rebellious heart jump.
He watched as you looked to both sides of the street, smiling to acquittances and finally noticing the bouquet. Your eyebrows almost rose to your hairline and an adorable shade of pink covered your chest. You quickly covered your mouth, but Azriel’s bones reverberated at the sound of your giggle. He found himself wondering if you were curling your toes in your shoes.
Leaning down, you picked the flowers and Azriel’s stupid smile, that had no right to be on his face, dropped.
He had signed it.
Your eyes scanned the tag and read through his words at a sickening speed. Sorry about last week, hope I wasn’t too much of a dick. Yours, Azriel
His shadows swallowed him before he could ask the Cauldron to dig a hole and swallowed him, but he could still see your content smile and have the utter and complete realization that your smile shadowed Elain’s.
The dance
“When have you ever cleaned up so nice?” Cassian asked him as he invaded his room, with no warning.
“Whenever you’re not around to see it” he answered back, not tearing his eyes away from his tie’s knot on the mirror. “So I don’t eclipse you”
Cassian scoffed and threw himself on the perfectly made bed. Azriel didn’t bother asking him to move, because while any other time he would have kicked him out, his bed was the farthest point from his work desk. Where, between patrol reports and court’s correspondence, were a month’s worth of letters between you two.
His hands trembled even more at the thought of his brother finding about it. He was already nervous enough at the premise of dancing with Elain tonight, at the thought of her wearing the bracelet he had sent her that matched his tie. Azriel didn’t need to think about the pointless, certainly not important letters that he shared with you.
“Nesta has kicked me out of our room” the male proclaimed. “She’s determinated to get to the ball on time. As if me not seeing her now would change our early departure”
“You’re disgusting” Azriel met his brother’s stare through the mirror.
“And you’re jealous. When was the last time you got laid?” Cassian raised her eyebrows suggestibly. “Anyone in mind for this particularly night?”
“Nesta, if you leave her unsatisfied”
“Can it be me if I’m unsatisfied?”
Cassian’s laugh boomed through the room and took Azriel’s mind out of the last hours’ frenzy. He had wanted to be excited, had been thinking about Feyre’s birthday ball for months now. Thinking about how Elain and him would dance, proving Rhysand that they were a match and should be together.
Indeed, Azriel had been excited about it until a month ago. When he found himself cutting his encounters with Elain short when a note came through, falling asleep with thoughts of a different woman on his mind.
He hadn’t seen you since the incident of the flowers, and his intention was to never see you again. But then, he had found a note on his training room, delivered by Nuala. I’m glad we both agree you were a dick that day, but if my forgiveness has you loosing nights of sleep, I forgive you. Although, for the next time, don’t be disappearing from a crime scene – those flowers were expensive.
Azriel had found it and had scoffed a laugh, a sound foreign to his ears. He had replied and had sent Nuala back to your house, with an apologetic smile.
Seems that I keep encountering you when I don’t mean to. Those flowers were for someone else, but I’m happy to hear that I will be sleeping soundly from now on. Sorry for your pot. If it makes you feel better, fate was my witness and gifted me with a nasty bump.
Two notes evolved to another two, then to four more, and suddenly, Azriel found himself sending you noted almost every day, sharing stupid facts and reading about your day.
“Is it because Elain?”
The mood was broken and shattered at the word of the fae, and Azriel finished his knot to turn and look at Cassian.
“Don’t judge me. I’m not Rhys ‘don’t you dare to touch my sis-in-law’ or Mor ‘bad choices are made’” Cassian lifted his arms slightly. “I’m just curious”
“Am I cleaning up nice for my high-lady and friend’s birthday ball? Yes, unlike you, I do care about having a clean presence” he looked down to his jacket. “Your shirt is stained with Nesta’s lipstick”
“Oh, I plan to let her stain more than my shirt” he chuckled.
Azriel rolled his eyes and turned towards the door without saying anything else.
He walked with Cassian through the long hallways until they reached the main hall, talking about training and pointless topics. The usual knot on his stomach loosened a bit when he was with him, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud. He knew Cassian only looked for him in those social events for his sake – because he knew how much Azriel struggled with the attention, with the looks.
For the first minutes, he stood by his side silently as Cassian greeted different people that Azriel didn’t want to talk with. He engaged short conversations with his family, laughed softly at Mor’s attempt of escaping with the wine, and entertained Nyx briefly.
He kept looking at the main doors, waiting for Elain to walk through so he could regain that excitement, that want, that seemed to seep through his fingers lately.
When the first dance started, Rhysand took Feyre’s hand and dragged her through the floor, looking like a regius couple. Mor took a giggling Nyx in her arms and danced in the corner, and Cassian used the opportunity to sneak with Nesta.
Azriel quickly found himself in the middle of dancing couples, and he swore the knot of his tie got tighter. He looked around for Elain, tried to identify her sweet smell or long hair, but he didn’t find her.
“She’s not coming, you know?” Amren’s voice appeared to her right, and he turned to find her leaning against a wall.
“Who’s not coming?”
“Elain” she explained. “She left yesterday with Lucien to get to know his court. Thought you, of all people, should know”
Had he been so out of it that he hadn’t notice it? Had he tried so hard to think about her that he hadn’t talked to her? He tried to think of a conversation where Elain told him that she wouldn’t be assisting, but he realized that he hadn’t talked to her in the last few days.
Actually, he had just sent the bracelet and guessed she would wear it. Part of his excitement wore down at the news, and he regretted agreeing to the ball.
Amren raised a brow at his fallen expression.
“Are you still after her, boy? Knowing she has a mate?” she inquired. “Thought you were smarter than that”
“You don’t understand. None of you do” he said, trying to sound angry. Trying to sound convinced, as convinced as he had been when he met her, but his voice sounded deflected.
“Maybe we don’t, but don’t fool yourself thinking the Cauldron makes mistakes. You’re not above its power”
Azriel scoffed at the answer he had heard before too many times, and faced away from Amren. She could try to convince him all she wanted, but his mind was up. As he walked out of the room, evading dancing couples, he forced the disappointment down his chest, where most of his feelings lay forgotten.
Of course she wouldn’t come. Of course, all those glances meant she was nervous around him, not reciprocated feelings. Of course, someone like Azriel wouldn’t end up with someone like her.
He loosened his tie briefly as he exited the ball, only to stop close to the entrance. He looked back at his family, dancing happily in the main floor. Even Amren, who didn’t dance, talked with a content half-smile to Varian, who had attended in behalf of his court.
Through all his centuries, all he had wanted was to have someone to dance with. To hold while the world fell apart, not to endure it on his own. Azriel felt a rebel knot climb to his throat, making the sight in front of him blurry.
Like a fool, he had thought Elain would be that person. After Mor, he thought he had found his person. Azriel looked once more to the ball before hastily turning around and colliding full force with a person entering the ball.
“Damnit!”
“Careful – “
Azriel didn’t get to stop the body falling to the ground, and he almost fell right above it. He gathered his footing back before he could cause more damage, and looked down to the incomer.
Something in his chest cracked when he saw the color of the dress pooling in the ground, the same one he wore on his loosened tie. The exact same color in the bracelet now forgotten in Elain’s room, that he had chosen so carefully and thoughtfully. He blinked past the initial shock and muttered an apologetic smile, offering his hand.
His eyes traveled up the wrinkled but beautiful dress to an exposed cleavage adorned with a simple blue gem. He didn’t register the similarities with his own siphons when his eyes met yours, both widened at the same time.
Centuries of waiting, of uncertainty, were suddenly nothing when the bond snapped loud in his soul. It rattled his bones and threatened to send him to the ground too.
“Y/N” he whispered, the room around him quietened. It was the first time he said your name out loud, and it felt divine on his lips. “What…?”
“Hm, Feyre’s birthday” you accepted his hand and let him pull you up, and he almost sent you crashing against his chest. “She invited me”
“That’s good”
Your eyes didn’t leave his for a while, as the bond settled for the two of you. Something had called you when you saw that dress, hanging beautifully in the window’s shop. You never wore that color, never attended to those parties. But the premise of seeing the owner of the notes you had been receiving lately, who your friends were tired of hearing about, was too appealing.
Somehow, buying that dress, coming late to the ball because of pointless delays, felt like a trick of fate.
“The bond” Azriel supplied uselessly, and you nodded for moral support way too enthusiastically.
“Yeah. It’s… here” you pressed your free hand against your chest, squeezing the one trapped in Azriel’s warm grip. “I didn’t think it would feel like this”
“It feels right”
Azriel couldn’t explain what had been missing until now. A void that had lived for so long in a place he couldn’t reach that now pulsated loudly where he needed it. He expected to be nervous, to be overjoyed, but above all of that, Azriel felt calm. At peace with himself as he stared into your eyes.
Time didn’t exist and the rest of the world was insignificant, only you mattered. And he could have spent an eternity looking at you if you hadn’t taken the first step and hugged him. If he thought the snapping bond was intense, your body against him robbed his breath.
His hand moved by itself to the back of your head, fingers tangling between your locks and pressing your face closer to him. The other arm rounded your waist, until you both belonged together like one soul.
The song ended and you looked up from his arms. With a small smile, you looked down at the loosened tie.
“Would you like to dance?”
Azriel nodded quickly and turned his back to the exit, your hand in his. People stared, his family looked at him, but all he could see was how blind he had been not to notice you were what was missing.
The Suriel 2
In the busy morning, few people stopped to see what lurked in the shadows of Velaris. They walked and rushed to their meeting points, talked with friends and families in the corners, and enjoyed the sunny day in the square. They all held interesting stories, futures that the Suriel fed on.
But he didn’t look at any of them. Only at the male standing a few feet away from him. He was sure his shadows had noticed him by now, that they knew his scent and presence, but decided not to warn his master. After all, he was no threat, just a mere spectator of fate.
The shadowsinger seemed to doubt between two books from a stand. He was oblivious to the world around him, but the Suriel knew. He noticed how he had changed in just five months, how not only his scent screamed a mating bond but also his soul. The way he stood, walked, talked.
As if the world didn’t own him anything else, as if he was finally the main character of his story.
The tall, dangerous male picked up the thicker book and paid for it with a small smile. He asked the woman in charge of the stand for a blue ribbon and tied the bag with it. Azriel turned around and distanced himself from the Suriel, not noticing his looming presence. But as he got farther and farther away from him, the Suriel was pleasantly surprised to notice shadows gathering at his feet, curious but not aggressive.
He showed them a terrifying smile, all teeth and cruelty – and still, they only brushed the torn parts of his cape in silent gratitude.
Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated
Let me know if you want me to do an Azriel taglist!
Azriel taglist:
@boygeniuses10 , @tothestarsandwhateverend
Missed target taglist (will be added if I make a second part)
Listen but what about Azriel trying DESPERATLY to charm and conquer Elain but the Cauldron being like who the fuck this bitch is trying to conquer fate, and each and every thing he gets her or does for her goes straight to you somehow. It getting to the point that Azriel starts to doubt his own feelings and sanity, because he didn't even know you and now it looks like he's chasing after you without meaning to.
And during the way, Azriel ends up falling in love with you.
Final part! Thank you for the support, I usually don't post the fics so rushed, but I wrote all the parts at the same time and why keep you waiting? Enjoy it!
Part 1, Part 2
Plot: Azriel and you have been rescued from a living hell, and now it's time for recovery.
Azriel remembered little about the hours following your rescue.
He remembered the calmness he felt when he heard the familiar steps through the hallways, thinking your soft smile was because of them too. He could hear again and again Rhysand and Cassian calling out for you two, and him shouting back – and he could feel the knot on his chest when you didn’t look down the hallway with him. He remembered thinking you were going to black out like the previous times. And then, he heard your heart.
Just before Rhysand and Cassian barreled in covered in blood, Azriel heard your heart slowing dangerously. He tried to keep you awake, and felt his whole word crumbling when, after Rhysand pushed past him to look at you, you closed your eyes.
Azriel remembered little about that day, only the feeling of your hand in his through the recovery.
Madja had been a saint through all of it, enduring his screams when he woke up thinking you were back in the cell, and you weren’t in his arms. She didn’t comment about the burns on your hands and the burns on your soul. She didn’t complain when Azriel and you were laid in the same bed because he couldn’t bear to have you out of sight.
She was a saint, and Azriel would be forever grateful for it.
Through conscious and unconsciousness, he healed slowly but firmly. Not as much could be said about you, whose wounds had yet to close and power to return. He laid his broken body next to you as he healed, and prayed each time he was awake that you woke up to one last promise.
“I’m sorry it took us so long” Rhysand confessed that night, only the moon illuminating the room. Azriel was laying on his side, staring at your motionless face. “We should… I’m sorry”
“I don’t blame you” Azriel croaked out.
Rhysand had yet to know the full details of what happened, and the lord guessed he would never know them all. The way Azriel’s eyes had been haunted, the burns on your hands, let him know enough. He couldn’t let go of the guilt of not arriving sooner, but even his was insignificant compared to Azriel’s.
When he wasn’t staring at you in silence, he looked ready to break down the world for what had happened.
“There was a male. Tall, black eyes. He knew about her powers. Made her use them” his voice was rough with unuse, sad and regretful. “Did you find him?”
“If he was there when we arrived, then he hid well. We killed everyone left” Rhysand was silent for a moment, debating whether he should tell his brother what he knew.
“I want to know it” Azriel’s hazel eyes briefly left your face to look at him. “Don’t you dare to hide it. Tell me”
“We didn’t find him, but… when you were taken, we used everything we had to find you. There was no trace, no smell, that could tell us where they had taken you” he swallowed hard, thinking about the first hours of panic and chaos. “But Lucien… he recognized the magic left on your cabin. Knew where it came from”
“Where?”
“The continent. It was the same magic he found when he went looking for the Vassa” before Azriel could press further, he continued. “I can only theorize, but if you say he survived her powers, that might had been Koschei”
“He’s here?”
Azriel rose on one arm, no sign of discomfort from his wounds. Rhysand didn’t know if it was prudent to tell Azriel about Koschei, because his brother looked ready to travel back to the continent to find him. He could only guess what he would do if Feyre was in that bed.
Koschei had appeared not so long ago and had showed interest in Azriel’s powers. He had taunted the Illyrian, angered him until he had shown him a part of his shadows. And still, Azriel knew it was a blessing that Koschei wondered about him and not about his mate. It seemed, that blessing had been short-lived.
“Y/N’s powers… we had been lucky until now. If Koschei has Vassa in that lake, Y/N would seem like a perfect complement”
“But we were careful” Azriel interrupted him, now sitting in bed. “When he came, she was away and didn’t come back for a month. Why now? Why does he know about her and her powers? Did someone betray us?”
“Or he smelled her through Vassa” Rhysand shrugged, as if he hadn’t been breaking his mind for the last month trying to understand what went wrong. “You can try and guess, for now, the only thing we can do is keep her safe”
The bond stilled in his chest for a long second, and Azriel looked down at you. Peacefully sleeping, you looked like an angel. He had seen the carnage at the cell. How, body after body, had melted when your light infiltrated through their pores and broke through. Each patrol sent your way had met the same fate. The last ones, when your power was on the verge of giving up, had been the most grotesque.
All of that had been because of him. You had refused to acknowledge your power for centuries, had dismissed any chance of training it in fear of repeating what happened the night your parents were murdered. And you had finally done it for him. The man who couldn’t keep your hands safe from the fire.
Rhysand’s hand on his shoulder startled him, and he looked up. The high-lord, like everyone else, was worried about him. About what he ate and drank, how much he slept and talked. He was regaining his mobility back little by little, but whatever time he could spend off the bed, he stood by your side.
Azriel willed himself to smile for his friend, his brother, but nothing came out.
“Thank you” he chose to say, for lack of better words. “For coming for us”
“Try to sleep”
The high-lord left with silent steps, Azriel watching each one of them. And when he was out of the room, only your quiet breaths breaking the silence, he promised himself he would find Koschei and burn him down to ashes.
-
You woke up two days later, and Azriel was almost fully healed by them. He still couldn’t fly or run, but his body was healing.
The first time you opened your eyes, he was in the kitchen for the third time since you came back. He felt your emotions through the bond and almost drained himself too when he winnowed back to your rooms.
For the next hours, Madja overwatched your recovery and gave you instructions about what to do now. Rest a lot, eat a lot, drink a lot. No big movements, no straining yourself, no powers. As if you would willingly use them again. No sex too, she declared with a sharp look at Azriel, who didn’t bother looking back. He listened to her instructions with neat attention and was close to kneeling before her in gratitude.
Once your friends had given you half-hugs and heartful apologies, you were left alone with Azriel. Madja hadn’t even left the floor when you tried to stand up.
“What do you need?” Azriel pushed your shoulders back with a scoff. “Madja told you to take it easy today. Don’t move until she comes back tonight. Do you need water? Food?”
“A hug would be nice”
You tried giving him a small smile and Azriel breathed through his nose. The tension on his shoulders dropped a little, his wings fluttering. After a second of consideration, he sat on the cushions next to you and dragged your body to his side. Any movement of his wings was painful and itchy, but he swallowed the discomfort and draped one across your back.
Your now bandaged hands fell on his chest, and the relief Azriel had let himself feel since you woke up died down.
Last night, he had finally opened to Cassian about what had happened. His brother had hugged him tightly, almost painfully, as Azriel cried onto his shoulder. The physical recovery would only be a part of a long journey, Madja had said that morning, before you woke up. What Azriel had endured in and out of that cell would haunt him for a while, but Azriel refused to let it take him away from you.
So, with a sharp breath, Azriel looked away from your hands to your beautiful eyes.
“You look good” you admitted. “How are you feeling?”
“Leg’s fine, nothing more than a medium limp now. Madja stitched it up and the skin has regenerated with her tonics. It feels… weird, but it’ll be alright” Azriel explained, eyes locked on yours. “And the wings will heal, too. I can’t promise you flights across the Sidra anytime soon, but Cassian can take you”
“You just lost half of your appeal” you chuckled.
The sound brought a smile to his lips. When you were with him, when he could stare into your eyes for hours in the safety of your home, he could pretend nothing had happened. A bad mission that had left him sore, not his worst nightmare come true.
With your head resting on his shoulder, you let the warmth of the morning heat your body. You were sore, too. Your back and arms hurt, your chest shook with each breath and your legs were cramped. Above all of that, you felt the crushing void of your power in your soul, restoring itself little by little.
Azriel seemed to know all of that from just staring at you, and his gaze saddened.
You had talked about that possibility before – about someone finding your powers, wanting to take advantages of them. When you first met him, it was political talk. The dangers of you staying in the court, the ways they could assure your protection, techniques to avoid you ever being noticed. As the years passed, those talks developed into feelings.
Into the fear of someone finding you and taking you away from Azriel.
You looked down to your lap and fidgeted with your fingers. The new skin felt strange against the bandages, but you didn’t complain. Not when his hand covered yours and he brushed a careful finger against the bandages.
“Don’t say it, Az” you sighed, feeling the apologies build in his mind. “It wasn’t your fault more than it was mine. I don’t blame you and that’s all. Please, don’t say it”
“I need to. Just one time” he admitted. “Let me say it one time, and you won’t hear it more. Let me get it out of my chest before the guilt consumes me”
You pressed your thumb and index finger together, stretching the bandage. You knew what he wanted to say, and you hated that he felt the need to apologize. Azriel had offered his life again and again in that cell for you without ever letting you argue against it, and would do it once more. But through the years, you had gotten to know him, and you understood that he needed that.
So you nodded without looking at him, and felt his chest widening in a breath.
“I am so, so sorry, because they did that because of me. Maybe they knew you wouldn’t let them touch me and were ready to…” his voice trailed and he silently pointed to your hands, not ready to say it. “And I’m sorry you had to use your power. I tried to shield you from it, my love. I’m so sorry I failed you”
Failed you
Long ago, when you first realized your feelings for the shadowsinger weren’t common, Azriel had made you the first promise. That he would keep you safe from the people who hurt you, that he wouldn’t let anyone force you to use your powers. Those had been empty promises, that you had needed in the dark nights of the first years.
Azriel had kept that promise, that impossible promise, during centuries. There had been others that had tried, people who knew about you and found where you were. And each and every threat was eliminated before they could reach you.
You knew that Azriel would have rather died in that cell that even think about you using your powers to free him. You thought briefly about the devastation on his face when he had realized what you had done, for him. It wasn’t disgust, or fear. It was self-disgust and failure on his part.
Shadows gathered around the bed when you looked at him once more, raising until you could look at him comfortably. His hand steadied you at your lower back, the other still holding yours. You didn’t need to shove your emotions down the bond, as they all were shining in your tearful eyes.
“I’m sorry too I wasn’t strong or brave enough to get us out sooner. That you had to get through all of that and he still knew” you confessed, trying to keep your voice loud and clear. “I’m sorry because I failed you too. I promised I would keep them hidden and I didn’t. Azriel, I would…”
You paused for a second, and let yourself soak in the love that seeped through his hazel eyes. He knew that, just as he couldn’t and wouldn’t blame you for that, you couldn’t and wouldn’t blame him. Love made you powerless, maybe reckless, but it was your love was the axis of his world.
A slow smile formed on your lips at the next words.
“I would have burnt that place and myself down for you. And there’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind”
“And I would have endured each beating for you too, with a smile on my face”
They were sad words, ones neither of you wanted to hear. But your love had gone through worst and would endure more. You were a dangerous person, not just for yourself but to others around you. Your powers drew a target on your back, and no matter how hard Azriel scrubbed, it wouldn’t go away.
And Azriel’s feelings, his devotion to you, would always put him at risk. Both you had learned to live with that and would continue to do so.
“I don’t expect you to keep every promise we make” you told him, squeezing his hand softly. “You promised me once that you would love me with your last breath and thought. And I promised you that you would hold my heart till the ends of times. That’s the only promise I care about”
Your wedding vows, made fifty years ago, brought tears to his eyes. He remembered his family gathered together for the event, the once in a lifetime feeling that rocked his body when he saw you walking down the altar in that beautiful dress. The words of the priestess were dull and incoherent as he looked at you, so beautiful and magnificent.
He had known by then that you would be his ending, that there would be no one after you. All that waiting had been worthy the moments he set his eyes on you, and each second by your side reaffirmed it.
Azriel leaned forward until you were inches away, your smiles matching.
“I promise you once more than I won’t ever stop loving you, my love, not even when my heart stop beating”
He closed the distance between your bodies and kissed you, closing another promise that he intended to keep, no matter what.
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Plot: you and Azriel try to make it out of your captivity in time. With your powers discovered, is up to you to survive enough to save him - and with your powers draining, is up to him to save you.
Warnings: blood and violence, again.
You weren’t the first one to move. Stories about your parents’ death, hunted and slaughtered for their powers, terrified you until you couldn’t force yourself to move. Safe in Velaris, you had never wondered the consequences of a power like yours in such a selfish world.
When the first fae lunched at you, it was Azriel who made her trip with his crippled leg to the ground. His years of training and war showed themselves when the woman didn’t utter another breath, her neck broken in a terrible angle. Your mate growled like a storm, promising death to whoever came close to you.
That thought, Azriel facing them hurt and defenseless, was enough to spur you into action – and everyone else. You weren’t a warrior, not like him. Hadn’t been trained in your power in fear someone would sense it and come for you. You were clumsy, untrained and tired, but you were powerful.
It was blur of blood, iron and light.
Your goal was clear – not to let them close to Azriel. He could defend himself, maybe, for a few minutes. But you weren’t stupid enough to believe he could win against trained soldiers in the state he was in. So you fought, with your power, nails and teeth.
A knife sliced through your collarbone and someone kicked your knee to make you fall. They were blasted away before you touched the ground, only to be replaced by an arm around your throat and a punch against your stomach.
You lost your breath and the light disappeared, and you couldn’t get it back. Not with the male behind you chocking the life out of you, arm and fingers pressing over your windpipe. You wondered briefly if he could break your neck, crush your throat, with just his grip, but he was pushed off you before you could wonder farther.
Azriel’s pained inhale made your light explode, and then everything was silent.
You fell to the ground and curled yourself in a tight ball, your ears ringing. It felt as if every part of your body was covered by fried nerves, the feel of the ground on your skin sickening. Old wounds reopened by the sheer force of your power, blood coming out of them.
The pain and overwhelming feelings weren’t enough obstacle to realize there were no other heartbeats but Azriel’s and yours.
You never used your power, and you were ready to never use them again. The next breath was forced into your lungs when Azriel hastily turned you over and pain wrecked your body. He had a new gash on his forehead, and was covered in blood that wasn’t his.
“Look at me” he grabbed your cheeks and only dared himself to flinch at the obvious pain in your gaze. “You need to breath. You’re not breathing – Y/N! Now!”
He physically recoiled when he moved you, knowing what it would do to your sensitive body. But he had to shake you out of your stupor before it was too late. You finally took a shaky breath and kept hyperventilating, not tearing your gaze away from him.
That was what he had always feared. That you would be forced to use it, because of him, because he wasn’t able to protect you. He had trained harder for centuries, had assured your safety after you found refuge in his court and he became your protector, your friend, your mate and lover. Watching your body rigid with pain and shock, watching you kill those fae for him, was threatening to pull him under another wave of panic and terror.
“Listen to me” he exhaled, his whole body screaming at the movement. “The male – he’s gone. He has managed to get out and he’s coming back. You need to leave. The door is open and –“
“I killed them” you stated, not looking around but smelling their blood.
“It was either them or us. You saved us” Azriel allowed himself a moment of vulnerability, pushing the spy out of him and bringing the caring mate you needed. “I know you are scared. I am scared. And when all of this is over, we can be scared together. But I need you to run, darling, because I can’t hold them off forever when they come back. Don’t look back. Listen for any sound and choose the opposite direction. And if it comes between you and them, you burn this place down”
Those words took you out of your shock, because burning that place down meant burning him with it. Yet you realized he hadn’t included himself in that certain part of the plan, because he was asking you to run without him.
Through fried nerve ends and rigid limbs, you found it in you to be furious. To want to berate for hours about him being a selfless idiot and punch some sense into him. Instead of doing that, you rose up until you were kneeling on shaky limbs. Your burnt hands were bleeding all over again, pressed against the tiles of the cell in an effort to keep you conscious.
You brushed Azriel’s worried hand off your shoulder and got up only blacking out for a few seconds. The cell rotated around you, lights and shadows behind your eyelids.
By the time you could orientate yourself, you noticed Azriel had gotten up too using just one leg, and was keeping you straight between himself and the wall.
“I’m not going to leave you” you stated.
“My love” he used that damned nickname, knowing it made you weak in the knees. “You have to. I can buy you enough time for you to go out. I can’t… you have to”
Looking down, you fixed your gaze on his leg. The sight of open, seeping wounds and sticking bones was enough to tremble your world, and if you looked at his wings, it would only be worse. But you swallowed the lump around your throat and shook your head.
“We are walking out of this cell together, or we wait here together. I’m not gonna leave you”
You couldn’t stop shaking your head, couldn’t stop your voice from trembling. Because living without Azriel would be worse than dying in that cell without him. He seemed to understand he wouldn’t be winning that argument, so he nodded softly. He didn’t protest when you used part of your power as a crutch to keep him steady, when you wrapped an arm around his waist and tugged him forward.
Azriel could only look at you swallowing down your pain and wish the Cauldron was merciful enough to keep you safe when he was gone.
He couldn’t identify where you were, because the hallways looked the same. No windows, no rooms. Just walls and ceilings and floors of stone and marble, right and left, long and short. Each step felt like a race against time, and Azriel was aware that you weren’t winning. Without him, you could move at a limited speed. He had seen what using your power meant, after you barely escaped your captors when he found you centuries ago.
Without him, you would be able to walk fast, maybe jog at certain time without rest. But you were holding onto him as if he was the one carrying both of you. You held his weight and used part of your power to keep him straight enough not to fall.
Azriel kept looking behind his shoulder, waiting to see them coming at you. His heart jumped in his throat when he heard a noise, but so far, you had only found two patrols that you had taken care of. The first one was easy – after the second, he had to help you sit down against the wall and wait impatiently for you regain conscious.
“Don’t fall back” he reminded you, even though it was pointless. Your body was slacking off and his was too. “One step at a time”
“I’m trying” your breath came in pants.
“Drop my leg”
“Shut up”
For the fifth time, you refused to let that little help go, even if that was the last remain of your strength. You could do it on your own, you could get out of there without him, but Azriel understood that he wouldn’t. Trying to convince you otherwise, trying to make you see that it was pointless, would be wasting a time that you didn’t have.
So his hope lay on the faebane.
He hadn’t eaten breakfast nor lunch, which was starting to take a toll on his already mangled body. But that meant he hadn’t had faebane in his body for a while. And now, out of that damn cell, he could try to use his powers without risking your life.
He was already starting to feel the bond back, waves of nausea and pain that weren’t his coming in steady waves. Azriel had blocked his part, but you were too busy to notice yours. So he swallowed the stinging of your burned hands, the tightness of your body and the cut on your collarbone.
You didn’t waste time either talking, nor trying to plan your escape. By the time you had escaped the fourth patrol, Azriel was the one carrying you. You didn’t argue when you were lowered to the ground once more, his scarred hand brushing the hair out of your sweaty face.
“I’m not going to drop it” you reminded him, your eyes half-closed. You had never used to much power, but were ready to see where it took you. “Nor leave you”
“Got the point a couple of hours ago. How are you feeling?” he asked, leaving his hand covering your cheek. While you got worse with each minute, Azriel had gained some of his strength and power back. “Tell me how can I help”
“It feels like I’m being turned inside out” you told him honestly, no point in lying when both of your lives were at risk. “I’m hot but shivering, my whole body vibrated and it… I’m tired”
“Let’s get this jacket off, hm?”
You noticed he was still stiff and hurt, but he managed to brush his own jacket off your body and use part of it to clean the dried blood from your face. You closed your eyes against his touch, his warmth. If you drifted far enough, you could pretend you were back in Velaris, Azriel brushing the hair off your face while you fell asleep.
Memories from your relationship filled your mind. The first time you met, how scared you had been and how kind the winged stranger had been. The weeks of healing and explaining, his presence always by your side. Moments together in your shared cabin, taken from granted. If you tried enough, you could pretend you were locked in one of them.
Azriel’s voice brought you back to the present. He tried giving you a reassuring smile, but you could see in his eyes that he had been talking for a while and you hadn’t answered. That he was beyond worried.
“Back with me?” he asked, always gentle.
“Yeah” you looked towards the end of another hallway. “We should keep going. It must end somewhere”
“Rhys is coming” Azriel blurted out, making you slightly more aware. “He must have noticed our presences without the faebane, but I sent some shadows. Just in case. He’s coming, so you just hold on, alright?”
“I can’t feel it” you frowned.
Azriel didn’t bother pointing out that with the drain of your power it was a mystery how you were still conscious. He had watched you twice now lose consciousness, only to come back moments later with your gaze a little darker. Every inch of his power was directed at his high lord, at his brother, because he knew he wouldn’t be getting you out of there on his own.
You stared at him in silence. In a matter of hours, things had changed – Azriel could now walk without your help, a little trembling, but he could manage. His wings were still useless and he almost blacked out too when he rotated his shoulder. Still, things had changed. Because now it was him who stood a chance of making it out, while you dampened in front of him.
It was pointless to turn the tables and ask him to leave, so you decided to give it a rest. You retreated your power from his leg and sagged against the wall. Certainly, you felt like there wasn’t anything left of you.
“Hold on. And that’s an order, not a promise”
“So bossy”
Azriel smiled with silver lines under his bruised eyes. He leaned forward and, for the first time since you were taken, pressed his lips against yours. The kiss tasted like blood, yours or his you couldn’t know. They were gentle and soft, despite the many times his lips had been opened by an angry fist.
He cupped your cheek, as if it was the first time you kissed, and brushed his tongue against your lower lip. Before he could deepen it, he moved his mouth to the corner of yours. To your lower cheek, then to your upper part. He kissed each and every part of your face, gathering the scared tears you were finally letting free.
Your breath hiccupped as you finally let yourself feel afraid. That you might not make it out, that the power you had used killed people with families, that your body was drained and ready to give out. That, if you blinked for too long, no one assured you that Azriel would be breathing when you opened them again.
You rose your hand and closed it around his wrist. If you made it out, you would have matching scars, but that was the least of your worries. Your burns needed treatment, and you didn’t miss how his body went rigid under your touch. Still, he pulled away and looked at you in the eyes.
“Promise me it’ll be okay” you begged him, the sight of him blurry with tears. “Just one time”
“I promise it’ll be okay” he lied without hesitation, knowing he couldn’t make you that promise. Even if you made it out, he knew it wouldn’t be fine. “You promise me to hold on a little longer”
You fell quiet, blinking slowly. Could you promise him that, though? Could you gather strength to lie to him one more time? Just as you were, he could hear the sound of footsteps coming closer. You wouldn’t get up that time. Even if you tried, all you would gather was a brief flick of light. And he would try, you were certain, to get up, and maybe would hold them for a while.
Swallowing down, you nodded and whispered your promise.
Azriel was all you could feel and see for a moment. His hazel eyes, filled with worry and sorrow and guilt, so much more guilt that any person should carry. His soft freckles, that were covered by stains of blood. Dark locks of hair fell over his face, greasy and tangled, but they couldn’t cover the beauty of your mate.
He still held your face on the palm of his hand and you still gripped his wrist. If you had to die, you guessed, you didn’t mind doing it staring at him. And he must have thought the same, because his shoulders sagged in relief and his eyes softened.
His mouth moved, saying something. I love you seemed worthy of the moment, but you didn’t hear it. Only white noise and static. His smile dropped and his eyebrows scrunched when he repeated himself and you didn’t move.
You must had been worthy in any other life, because suddenly there were two beautiful copies of your mate in front of you, both of them equally worried. Before you blinked one last time, you saw Azriel’s face scrunching in horror, a kind hand making him step sideways.
Worried violet eyes were the last thing you remembered before blacking out.
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You've been happy for too long here is your daily dosis of angst. Part two already written and will be posted in a few days!
Plot: while you are held in a rotten cell, Azriel asks you to promise him something you can't. Because no matter how much he wishes it wasn't true, there was little you wouldn't do for your mate.
Warnings: blood and violence. Kind of graphic.
Azriel had stopped counting the days, the hours stuck on that cell. He had given up around the second week, when he realized losing mental strength over the time wasn’t worthy. Now, the only time keeping him partly sane was the constant drip of water from the corner of the room. When the thoughts were too overwhelming, when the pain wouldn’t let him breath, he focused on the steady drip and tried to drift away.
The cell was cold, almost icy. The clothes he had been wearing when they took him weren’t warm enough – and yet he had given away his jacket, claiming he was fine as he tried to control the chills that rocked his body. It now laid over your body, tucked close to his chest.
It had taken him two days to convince you to take it, and only when you shivered so hard it wouldn’t let any of you sleep, you did.
“Don’t take it off” he begged you when they took him away. “Keep yourself safe”
It had worked so far, because Azriel put enough of a fuss when they approached you that they decided to punish him instead. Other times, it didn’t work, and the jacket came back stained with your blood when they threw you back in.
He felt the first tear of many roll down his cheek, matching the drip of the corner. He tried to keep his body still, not to let you know that he was breaking down again.
But as always, you turned in his arms and caught the tear with the tip of your raw finger. Azriel looked down to your bruised face, that hadn’t healed yet, and his throat constricted around a cry. The soft touch against his own bruises and cuts felt underserving.
“Hey” you whispered, breaking the sinister silence of the cell. Straightening against his hold, you turned so you could face him and held back the groan of pain. “We agreed there would be no tears”
“I know”
It was a silly promise, one neither of you had kept so far.
“I’m okay” you tried to convince him, but your voice was tired, and he knew. “Don’t waste your energy worrying. I’m fine”
“Y/N”
His voice was broken, just like his body. He had always been the strong one, the person who held his ground against torture and pain, who inflicted torture and pain. But with you there, with the life of his mate in the line, he crumbled like a paper boat against the water. Azriel had managed to keep it together for the first two weeks – by the time he stopped counting the time, he had broken down in the night.
If your captors would tell you what they wanted, if they made demands, Azriel knew it would be over for him the moment they put a hand on you. But they hadn’t so far – and that was the worst part. Not knowing what they wanted or why they took you, not being able to consider if the information they wanted was dangerous enough to risk your safeties. He knew he would give them anything by that point.
“They will be coming for us” you repeated like a mantra, over and over again.
Azriel didn’t doubt Rhysand and Cassian were shaking the word to find you, he just doubted they would be able to.
“I need you to promise to never do that again” he started, thinking about the previous hours. “Never, Y/N”
“You know I can’t, baby” the corner of your mouth lifted sadly. “You would have done the same”
“It doesn’t matter. You can’t –“ he choked out, the urge of making you understand seeping through his words and body.
“Can’t protect you like you protect me? That’s what you want me to promise?” you cut him off. “To promise you to stay still while they drag you away once more, with those terrible promises?”
“Yes” he hissed, feeling anger, guilt and many other feelings he couldn’t talk about in his chest. “I can handle it. You being hurt? That I can’t do. And they know they can get anything out of me with it. So next time they barge in, please Y/N, please, just… don’t”
“I could ask you the same thing. Would you promise me that, hm?”
That morning, or what Azriel could guess was morning based on the meals they brought, the masked fae had opened the cell before you woke up. Azriel had brushed the sleep fast when he saw them, asking the same questions he had repeated many times before. Who were they, what did they want, where were you, why did they take you. He made demands too, repeated so many times he had learned them by heart. To let you go, to keep him so he could be useful, to have a blanket and more food.
Only silence followed them, and the realization of what they were about to do.
His inner demons, the crumbling fear of his past, had stilled him enough time for you to wake up and come to the same realization. A tall woman carried oil and matches, and a sickening smile on her face. Another fae laughed behind her, deep and masculine, when he saw his face. Before Azriel could finish processing what was happening, you copied his actions from the past. Jumped on the woman who carried the oil, assuring Azriel wouldn’t be the one taken that day.
And no matter how much he had screamed his throat raw, how many fingers he had broken trying to break through the bars, he couldn’t stop it. He would damn those seconds of panic and tightness the rest of his life.
For any answer, Azriel gripped softly your elbow, careful of not moving your burnt hand. The pink skin was raw, the first blisters breaking through.
“I would have preferred them to burn me alive” he confessed, staring at your hands.
“This is not your fault. Any of it”
“Feels a lot like it is” he scoffed, not lifting his eyes. “You need to promise me that. I can’t – if they, if it happens again…”
“Baby, look at me” you begged him, but he didn’t concede. “Az”
Nicknames rolled down your tongue easily, like they had always done. Something about you calling him baby warmed his heart each and every time, the way his name tasted so good on your lips. Azriel squeezed his eyes shut tightly, his face contouring in sorrow. They had broken his leg, pierced his wings, beaten him senseless. Still, the sight of your burnt hands, knowing the similarities with his own, was what broke him.
“I’m sorry” he cried out, shoulders shaking with sobs. “I’m so sorry”
You didn’t answer, only fell against his chest and let him hug you.
The flames licking up your skin hours ago didn’t feel half as bad as hearing Azriel sob. You contained down your own tears, days of torment seeming endless. You were scared, too, mostly for Azriel. Because, since you both had woken up in that cell, he had taken every possible beating and lashing so that they wouldn’t touch you. And you noticed, smelt, the blood on him when he was brought back. Feared the day he wouldn’t wake up.
The faebane in the food you were fed kept the shadows away, but some of his power was still available and circled your ankles. The panic and guilt he felt was palpable through the watered bond, and in the way he pressed against your bruises without noticing.
“We will make it out” you promised him that, or tried to. “They will come. I know”
He only cried in response. Azriel, your tough, brave mate who tortured people for a living, broke in a dark cell that night. He sobbed until his throat was raw and couldn’t mutter any more apologies, cradled your burned hands as if they pained him more than you. He let his broken wings cover you both until you could pretend you were back in Velaris, in your wide bed, hiding from the world.
Dinner was pushed through the bars and you didn’t miss how Azriel held you tighter, even if he knew they wouldn’t come back until the next day.
“Please” he begged once more. “Please, don’t do that again”
The moment you had seen the oil, had guessed their intentions, you were done for. You would have gladly let them burn your whole arms if that meant they would leave Azriel alone. It had hurt, and you didn’t want to think about it, but Azriel was barely hanging by a thread and you would do anything to keep that thread hanging.
When, a few hours later, the cell opened again, you both turned your heads to meet the only male who talked out of your captors. He was tall, ridiculously tall, thin and with long arms that hung loosely. He wasn’t threatening at all, at least he didn’t seem like it. But you intuitively cowered against his presence, and Azriel intuitively hugged you closer.
His onyx eyes were deep pools of nothing, of wisdom and age that had you doubting Rhysand or Cassian would find you. They moved between Azriel and you, earning a growl from the earnest. If he could, you knew he would get up and fight him. Would try, like many other times, to fight his way out. But there was a reason why he had begged you to stay put, why they had the chance to take you.
Azriel’s left shoulder was broken, his arm only twitching and covered in blood. His wings had been ripped to shreds and were healing too slowly. And his legs, sprawled on the ground, had been twisted and sprained too many times.
“You’re losing your charm” he commented, his lip curling in disgust at the sight of Azriel. “I was tempted to think you would be dead by now. One of you”
“Why don’t you come closer and try to kill me yourself?” Azriel hissed, his good arm curled possessively around your waist.
“Oh, I wouldn’t. My friends are doing a mighty job at that”
“And who are your friends?”
It was a common question. When the male had first appeared in the cell, Azriel had bombarded him with questions that had been ignored. But that day, the male looked between you and Azriel, and tilted his head.
“Let’s trade answers, shadowsinger. I will answer your questions as long as you answer mine” he rocked slightly on his feet, the only indication he was curious. “Where does that power come from? What makes you worthy of wielding it?”
“Mine first. Who are you?”
Azriel had been conscious for a long time, considering the things he had gone through. Normally, he lasted conscious enough for you to try and clean his wounds and for him to promise that he was fine. Then, maybe giving his body a day to rest had accelerated his healing process. Still, you felt his attention rapt and alert as the male considered answering or not.
It felt wrong. He could easily pry the answers out of him. Azriel himself had sworn to answer and give anything when you were in their hands. And still, he only pursed his lips.
“I hope you are smart enough to understand that I cannot give you my true name” he smiled apologetically, as if he was truly capable of feeling anything. “But to answer your question, I could say I am someone interested in your powers. Where does it come from?”
“If you want me to talk, you better give me a real answer” Azriel cut back. “You’ve burned my mate’s hands. Beaten her, cut her. Why”
“Because it is funny what love can make out of powerful people” the male looked at you without dropping his smile. “You are powerful enough to kill any of those fae. To break down this place and destroy it from the inside out. But knowing your mate is here too? Love can undermine so much power. May I?”
Azriel’s grunt of pain almost developed in a scream of pain when he stepped on his broken knee. Blood seeped on the ground and bones creaked under his weight. Still, Azriel only threw his head back and bit down his agony, not willing to move away and expose you any further.
The edge of his boot pressed farther on his wound. Proof of how badly hurt Azriel was, was the lack of movement of his foot. His leg had been so brutalized that he couldn’t even move it to step away from danger.
Your heart rose to your throat and you broke another promise you had made to Azriel the first time you woke up in that cell. Don’t show them. Promise me you won’t show them. Let them think I’m the strong one, I’m the one they can’t break. Promise me, darling.
When Azriel lost his breath and his chest stilled from pain, you couldn’t control the sudden urge of power that broke through the room. Without moving from his grasp, that was now painful against your waist, you filled that room with light and threw the man off your mate.
His back hit the wall with a sickening crunch, and if he had been human just like his smell suggested, he would have died. But he didn’t.
He only looked at you with bloody tears on his eyes and dark stains on his ears.
“Oh my! Oh, how wonderful!” the male chuckled. Laughed. His chest trembled with joy as his broken body stared at you from the other side of the room.
You realized that he had been talking about you. About your power, that you had thought was well hidden. You didn’t bother stopping to think how pointless the torments Azriel had endured for its sake had been then, knowing that thought would haunt you back.
Not using your burned hands for support, you raised by Azriel’s side. The faebane wasn’t enough to keep it hidden, since it wasn’t from this world. It only dulled your senses and dimmed the mate bond. But now that it had been set free, your power roared at you to let it go. To wrack that place to ashes and kill them all.
You stopped yourself when you got on your feet. Azriel, still out of breath, gripped your calf and looked up at you with terror. He knew what they had done to your parents, what they did to your kind. Why you were the only one left, and how precious you were to them. All of that paled in comparison of you being his mate.
You could havoc that place, but your power was destructive enough to risk his life. And that made the light of the room dim.
“You’re – you’re wonderful. I had heard rumors, but this! Look at this!” the man kept talking, but you could only look at Azriel. He begged you silently to run, to use that opportunity to flee. “We’re going to be amazing friends, my darling. The best of friends!”
“Sir?”
Standing next to the open door, three pair of eyes stared at you. Your tormenters looked between the remains of light at the tips of your burnt fingers and their fallen master, who wouldn’t stop smiling. Panic rose like bile when you realized what you had done. What he had done to make you do it.
You had only agreed to Azriel sacrificing himself because you knew if they discovered your powers and how much you cared about him, it would be worse. The sudden burst of power had left you dizzy, yet you were aware enough to notice that the male was healing way too fast. Way too powerful for a normal fae.
He pointed at you with a bloody smile, the onyx on his eyes not leaving any white left.
“Seize her”
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I've been re-reading hosab so I can enjoy the third one and I'm extremly frustrated at the lack of Ruhn fics, so here is my own. It's shitty, it's late and it's not proof-read.
Plot: the autumn king tries to hurt you with his words and actions, but Ruhn is always there to help you up.
You had known it would be hard.
You had known, for a while, that the dreadful day would come, that you would finally face the source of your anxiety and doubts, and that it would be hard.
But it had left you completely broken, as useless as he had described you. Standing outside the Autumn's King's villa, you didn't bother taking cover from the rain nor caring about the looks that granted you. You were too busy replaying the words over and over again in your head, remembering the sting on your cheek from his slap. You knew it would be hard, but meeting your mate's father had exceeded any expectation.
You had been summoned that morning with a brief letter, mentioning that the king wanted to meet you formally. Too busy worrying about what he would say or think, you hadn't noticed the reason behind the sudden decision — Ruhn was away with his Aux for the day, and wouldn't be back until night time. That left Declan and Flynn out of the equation, the only friends you had in that place.
So, when you had been hastily dragged out of his office like trash, when his hateful speech had broken through the walls, no one had said anything.
You choked on the next sob, not knowing what to do. Your shared apartment was more than an hour away walking, and it was pouring. Calling Bryce would be a terrible idea, since she didn't need another excuse to blow that place to pieces, and Hunt shared her feelings. You could always call a cab, but you were certain that none would answer.
The king wanted you out in the streets like a rat, and he would make it happen.
So you hugged yourself, ignored the bruises that were already forming on your forearm and lowered your head. Exiting the fairy territory was the worst part. Not only they didn't do anything about his king behavior, but made sure to force you to step out the sidewalk.
An attractive, tall woman spat at your feet as you walked by her side.
Your eyes full of tears and your heart in a knot, you didn't notice the shadows or the stares until Ruhn stopped in front of you, head to chest. Looking up, your lips trembled once more when you noticed the look on his face. The absolute murder on his beautiful blue eyes. They instantly noticed the angry cut made by his father's ring, the way you cradled your arm.
"It isn't worthy" you hiccupped, tired and devastated. "He isn't"
"You are" he growled back, the street almost covered in his angry, restless shadows. "You are my fucking mate and he has no right to even look at you"
"I just wanna go home"
You had been in that situation before — someone making a comment or a move about the obvious truth, that he was the prince and you were the half-human. That it was not supposed to be, because his fate was to be with someone better, more powerful, more talented. Not a half-human barista who barely managed to finish her studies and pay off her loans.
Each and every single time, Ruhn had gotten himself into trouble because of it. So many times, actually, that you had long ago stopped believing what they said. But it was different, because that time, it came from someone with the capacity of making it happen. Of keeping you away from Ruhn and taking the only light in your life away. Only thinking about it made your breath speed up.
"Flynn will take you home" Ruhn stared behind your shoulder, as if he could see his target.
"Ruhn, please. I just want to... Forget about it" you tried again, sneaking a hand forward until you could grab his. It was shaking from rage.
"And I want to talk to him. Just like he has talked to you" he snarled, not looking at you though holding your hand. "He thinks - he believes he can do this, he has always done it. But there are lines"
"There are lines for you too. Let's just -"
"Have you seen yourself, Y/N?" Rhun interrupted you. "Don't think I can't guess what he has said. He has touched you. He has kicked out of my home, because this is mine too. He has no right. None"
"He will do it again, if you give him a reason" you waited a few seconds in silence before squeezing his hand, looking at him through the pouring rain. "Ruhn"
His eyes finally dropped back to you, and he ran his tongue across his lip piercing. He knew what he needed, what he wanted. To scream back at his father so the whole Lunathion heard how worthy you were of him, how he was the one who had to keep up with you.
Ruhn wanted to finally act on his father, that had caused him so much harm, that had rejected his sister like a stray puppy. He wanted to kill him for even daring to summon you, knowing he wasn't around and your kind heart wouldn't recline.
He was tempted to do so, his eyes moving back and forth from your eyes to the scratch on your cheek. Even if he could imagine what had happened there, he had lived through enough to know it had been worse.
The only thing that kept him from breaking down his father's door and every bone was the urge of taking you away from that place. He hadn't thought about an umbrella or a car. After receiving Bryce call that you weren't home and having Declan track your phone, he had only one worry in mind - your safety.
And he had to ensure that first.
So he brushed off his soaked jacket and put it over your shoulders and head, big enough to cover you partially from the rain.
Without sharing another word, Ruhn draped his arm around your shoulders and tucked you into his chest, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He felt more than saw you trembling, enclosing your body around him like a perfect mold.
Yeah, he would kill his father for this. Just not tonight.
"How did you know?" you asked softly, while he scared away the few curious eyes that still looked at you with just one glare.
"I always know when you need me" he squeezed your shoulders, wishing it was different. "I'll always come"
"I hate him" you admitted, knowing the feeling was shared. "I hate what he said and did, but I hate more than he only cares about us because he wants to use you. I despise him"
There were few people you hated. That girl in fourth grade who cut your hair as you were trying to grow it longer. The cat of your neighbors, who snarled at you and tried to scratch you every time you saw her. People who started wars, maybe. But you were a kind-hearted person, and that had made Ruhn fall in love with you. Tired from all the hate and pain, you had been his salvation in a world where he was losing his soul.
What pained him the most was that, if it wasn't for his father's hidden intentions behind his dislike for your relationship, you wouldn't even hate him. You would shrug the hurt and sadness away, and keep going.
His father loathed that you were his mate, that he had a normal, healthy relationship with no political power. He wasted no occasion to throw him women and men that would be a great alliance to his family – and still, all Ruhn could do was search for your face in the crowd.
So different from each other, he could barely resist the urge of turning around and burning the whole place down. But he kept hugging you silently, gathering the strength to leave that place without turning back.
"Whatever he said, whatever came out if his poisoned mouth, was a lie. He can try and change us, but he won't" Ruhn felt the need to remind you, no matter how many times he had said it. "I love you, I've loved you since the first coffee and long after my body goes cold"
"I love you too, Ruhn"
“Couch and movie?”
Ruhn had planned a party, as he always did, for when he came back that night. But not even Declan and Flynn would argue with him, knowing he needed to stay with you just as much as you needed you. You nodded against his chest and he let you both be consumed by shadows and darkness.
He tugged you forward until you were nested against his side, and started walking. The shadows covered you from the worst part of the rain as you walked in silence, tucked together.
No matter how much his father hurt you, how much he used Ruhn, there was something he could never change – that you were his home.
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I saw this post by @marvelsmylife and I thought I would give it a try! I've seen also lots of couples doing this on TikTok, so here's my take on how Azriel would do it. Hope you like it!
Plot: the spring court is beautiful, oranges are beautiful, but there's nothing more beautiful than your mate.
You loved the Spring court, you really did. Unlike Cassian, who couldn’t even get out of his room without sneezing the life out of his body, you spent your time there walking through the beautiful gardens. No matter how terrible Tamlin was, how much you despised the meetings between courts – you loved the Spring court.
All your friends and family were busy that morning, most of them in said meeting. Rhys and Feyre had been the first ones to arrive, Cassian and Azriel following close. You had woken up to an empty bed and cold sheets, your mate’s training not keeping up with your late nights reading. Still, Azriel had left you a short note and a beautiful flower.
You would have spent the morning with Nesta, but she was busy with Elain preparing the last details of her wedding with Lucien. Mor and Amren had chosen to stay in Velaris, and that left you alone in those beautiful gardens.
Time flew by each time you stopped to look at a flower or insect, as you let your body soak the warm sun through the trees. You wouldn’t have noticed the morning rolling away if it wasn’t for your stomach rumbling angrily at you. Deciding leaving the gardens was too much of an effort, you looked around for something to eat.
The meeting would end soon, but you would remain for two days more. There were enough matters to discuss that the high lords needed more than one meeting. As soon as Azriel was free, he would come looking for you – and you didn’t want to waste any time eating when you could explore the beautiful court.
So, when you spotted the orange tree, you made your decision.
It was big enough that you had to step on a bench to grab the closest orange. Once you did, you couldn’t resist grabbing some more. Big and colorful, your mouth watered just at the sight. You ended up on your tiptoes, barely keeping balance, gathering the oranges between your chest and arm.
One of them rolled out of your grasp, but before it fell, shadows gathered around it and brought it back to the group. You smiled instantly, stretching slightly to take the last orange. You felt your body gravitating forward as the tips of your fingers barely grazed it, and just before you could fall over, warm hands rounded your waist.
You were lifted the missing inch and stabilized at the same time, shadows keeping your legs upright. After taking the orange, you barely had time to look at it before you were lowered to the ground, back meeting his hard chest.
“Aren’t you a little shabby for a thief?” Azriel whispered against your ear, holding you close. “Risking your life for a bunch of oranges?”
“Oh, like you would have left me fall” you rolled your eyes, resisting the urge of squirming away when his lips brushed your cheek.
“I could have been away”
“Still”
You turned around, your arms full of oranges, and met his hazel eyes. Azriel could have been miles away, in a different country, that you were sure his shadows would have found a way of keeping you from hurt, just as they always did. You knew it, he knew it, and there was no real concern under his words, just playful banter.
Politics, territorial business and high lords were hard for him, and you could guess the outcome of the meeting in the darkness under his eyes. Still, when you looked at him, they shone a little brighter, his lips curling upwards.
His wings blocked the sun from behind, but some rays peeked through and made him look even more divine than he already was. Only a few hours away, and you already missed him.
His arms circled your waist and he lowered himself until he could kiss you softly, erasing the memories of the previous meeting. He tasted like home, like safety, and you were ready to drop your treats and wrap yourself around your mate.
Barely two seconds into the kiss, it was broken by the loud sound of your stomach reclaiming you back to your previous task. Azriel tore away with raised eyebrows, and burst into a loud laugh at your rosy cheeks.
“It’s past lunch time, don’t judge me” you looked down to your arms. “Want an orange?”
“I would love nothing more than a stolen orange”
You didn’t need words when you were with him, not as you sat on the bench you had climbed on and Azriel took the oranges from your grasp. His dark leathers were a rough contrast with your soft dress, the scars on his hands contrary to your careful touch. He didn’t flinch like he used to when you wrapped your fingers around his, only smiled softly and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.
There was no other place you would rather be but on that bench with him, the sun and shadows creating a beautiful landscape full of flowers and colors.
Azriel took the last orange from you and easily peeled its roughness away. His nails were chipped and broken, but he managed to get the whole thing off and hand it to you in small pieces. You gladly let him put the first one in your mouth, happy with not moving a muscle away from him.
“I can do that” you raised a brow as you bit on the juicy fruit.
“And I can do it for you” he bit on the next piece, eyes dropping to your mouth.
You tried grabbing the rest of the orange from him, but he easily brushed you away. It was common for him to do that type of stuff – peeling an orange for you so your hands wouldn’t get dirty, doing your hair in the morning when you were too tired, putting food on your plate before his own.
Those little things had built a comfortable relationship during your years together. You cleaned the blood off his leather when he came back from a mission and he brought you flowers each Sunday. He folded your clothes in a neat pile to you after your bath and you helped him tie his boots when he was sore from training.
The birds chirped around you as he kept peeling oranges, handing you some pieces and eating the rest of them. You watched as he carefully removed the white striped that you always complained about, checking each piece before giving it to you.
“How was the meeting?” you tried eventually, breaking the peaceful silence.
“It was” he shrugged, plucking the last part of the peel before dividing the orange. “Tamlin growled at everything and everyone. Kallias stepped out in the middle of it. Beron and Eris”
“What of Beron and Eris?”
“They were… them”
You knew without words that Beron and Eris had been the worst part of it. Maybe, if it wasn’t for them, Azriel would enjoy the politics of those meetings. He would stand in that room with his wings wide and head high. But they always managed to find something to bring him down, to make him feel less than them. And you would have gladly punched them into the knowing they wouldn’t even get close to the man Azriel was.
Azriel didn’t elaborate the answer for a while, both of you eating quietly. Once he had peeled the fourth orange and you had refused the last part, he started plucking the crumbs from under his nails.
You hoisted your legs up to his own, and made yourself comfortable on his lap. The reaction of having your body close was instant, his muscles going lax and his shoulders dropping.
“Rhys thinks Eris will stick to his part of, you know” Azriel talked softly, as if his shadows wouldn’t inform him of any presence within twenty feet. “But when he’s with his father, with that… smile and attitude, I wish he wouldn’t. I just wish it was different”
“I know” you agreed, pressing your stained lips to his cheeks. “It will be soon”
He turned to look at you and you smiled as brightly and convincingly as you could. Working with Eris was worse than any type of meeting. Having him coming to Velaris, where your home was, and letting him know where the most precious part of him lived was hard enough. But watching him play his enemy in a room full of threats and knowing he knew those things was on a different level.
It broke your heart each time he came back from those meetings, each time his vulnerability became apparent and you could do nothing about it.
Just smile, stay by his side, and stick to the promise of not letting anything happen to any of you.
You tried changing the subject for his sake and yours, anything to make him smile again like a few minutes before. Brushing the sticky stain on his cheek, you mentioned something Nesta had talked about before.
“There is a theory, you know” you started, trying to bite the smile off your lips so he would take you seriously. “About males, and oranges, and peeling them”
“Likely a theory of one of your books” he teased, and when you didn’t confirm neither deny it, he chuckled. “Or Nesta’s. I don’t know which one is worse”
“The theory says, that if your partner peels oranges for you without asking or saying, they love and care about you” you repeated what Nesta had told you a few days ago. “Getting their hands dirty and not minding about it because they love their partners more”
“More than an orange’s peel?” Azriel smiled widely now. “After almost fifty years of relationship, I hope you too love me more than that”
“You’re missing the point”
“It’s a stupid theory”
It was because he did way more than peel oranges for you. And you did way more than change the subject to stupid theories so he would take his mind off the worries. If Azriel had to peel a thousand oranges for you, he would do it. If he was allergic to them, he would still do it.
There was little Azriel wouldn’t do for you. The basics of protecting you, of giving you his love and affection, were already set at the begging of your relationship. But as he thought of the stupid orange peel, he wondered if there was something he wouldn’t do for you.
And he knew that there wasn’t.
“Let me guess” he tugged your legs closer and looked into your eyes with a deep frown of concentration. “Nesta told you about it, just as he has told you about the rest of stupid theories you have put to test. And she has also told Elain and Feyre, and you all have put it to test”
“You’re missing Mor” you smiled, knowing he would make the whole story perfectly.
“Rhys passed, for sure. Lucien too, though he would probably be a little wary and ask about it before doing it, because Elain doesn’t eat too many oranges” he guessed correctly, making you scoff a laugh. “And Cassian asked Nesta to peel his orange”
You burst into a laugh because, just like he had said, had happened.
As you tilted your head back, a ray of sun hit the side of your face and Azriel’s heart started beating a little faster. He would never not find you beautiful, but sometimes, it would hit him just how beautiful you were. How lucky he was, how perfect his mate was. The cauldron had made him wait, had made him suffer, and all of it was worthy from the moment he laid his eyes on you.
“I love you” he smiled, Eris and Beron long gone from his mind. “Even if you’re a shaggy thief”
“I love you too”
Azriel closed his eyes and let the sun bake his skin. Having you in his arms always felt good, no matter where you were. Spring court, Velaris, your home. He could be lying in a battlefield with you in his arms, safe and sound, and it would feel like heaven.
The meeting had been shitty, and the two days left in that court would be too. But if enduring it and peeling oranges for you would get him that kind of peace, he was ready for it to last forever.
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This is smut, set in the baker!reader universe. If you want a timeline, it happens before Taken for reasons you'll find out at the end of this fic. You can read it without the previous parts, don't worry.
Plot: Azriel has been away for a month and comes back to a busy, cozy morning.
Warnings: porn with a tinny bitty plot, barely there.
“I missed you”
Even though his voice sounded far away, you knew Azriel was right behind you, his chest pressed tightly against your back. You felt the echoes of his question right where his throat touched your shoulder and neck. Where, in your humble opinion, he belonged.
He had been away for a little longer than a month, and it had been the longer you had been apart. He had arrived to your shared home two days ago, and you had only left the bed for the bare minimum necessary.
You doubted you’d be able to leave the bed in another two days.
“Me too” you answered back, your voice groggy with sleep.
“Thought about you every single day” his lips, swollen from your previous activities, followed the path of your pulse point. “Every hour”
You hummed for an answer, not actually registering his words. Only the feeling of his body curved around you. You were both naked, had been since he came back, but you weren’t ready to face the rest of the world yet.
And Azriel wasn’t either. The sheets moved around you as he pressed himself closer, tighter, and you noticed his intention before he was finished. The hand that was rubbing lazy circles over your belly lowered, his pinky finger adding a soft pressure over your clit.
You barely contained your moan when he pushed you farther against him, his cock slipping between your legs and rubbing itself where you needed him. You had discovered long ago the truth behind the wingspan theory, and blissfully, you cherished it again. Azriel lowered his hand until he could touch himself and tease you at the same time.
“Move” you demanded, trying to roll you hips. All sleep left you as his arousal hit your senses, as you felt him harden between your legs.
“So demanding. Maybe I don’t want to”
His lips curved against your neck, and you could have fallen right above the edge when his canines grazed your skin. Something about the primal need of being locked together after a month away made your knees weak.
The tip of his cock retreated far enough to press itself against your entrance, only to avoid it once more. The hand that wasn’t holding you against him appeared under your neck, and wrapped his fingers across your throat. Big enough to cover it whole, you breath shuttered when he squeezed.
“Thought about you naked and moaning under me too many times” Azriel confessed, barely moving. The soft friction wasn’t enough but felt like Starfall and fireworks together. “I whished it was you who squeezed my cock dry and not my hand”
“I already did” you reminded him. And you had – repeatedly since he came back. “I’ll have your cum leaking for a while”
“Love that”
His voice was deeper, broken out by a moan. There were few things that turned him on more that knowing he was in you. That his cum tainted your underwear when you left the room, that when not even an hour later he would have a finger inside, his cum had been there.
You had trouble following the pointless conversation when that certain finger entered you. The roughness of his scars had been a sensitive topic at the beginning of your relationship, but soon you had discovered that not many things felt as good as them.
Azriel pressed it to the hilt, applying pressure against your walls.
“Did you touch yourself? While I was gone?” he whispered, one of his shadows kissing your left nipple.
“Thought about me sitting on your cock while you worked, and then you fucking me on your work table” his hand almost cut your air supply, but you managed to continue. “Played with myself right there, and – “
Azriel squeezed your throat hard enough to leave bruises, but you didn’t mind as the finger retreated as his cock replaced it. Each time you took him felt like the first time, no matter how many had come before that one. He pushed it in two thrusts, that left his pubic hair right at your entrance.
Your face was harshly turned to the right and you were met with dark, lusted eyes. There was barely any hazel left, but you loved them anyway. His mouth was parted in a deep moan, and as he bottomed in and out slowly, you were enchanted by the pearls of sweat rolling down his forehead and the sounds leaving his lips.
His perfect, o shaped lips that he ran his tongue through. There was nothing more beautiful that Azriel for you. Him training, sleeping, talking. Smiling, thinking, walking. Anything he did was a piece of art to your eyes, and your favorite part was by far lusted Azriel.
The way his eyes darkened but his expression softened in pleasure and love, only for you. The grip on your throat relaxed enough for you to push yourself up and catch his lips. With your eyes closed, you only felt his hands moving you like a rag doll until you were laying on your back, his cock still inside you and his chest pressed against yours.
“Naughty girl” he whispered against your mouth, his tongue brushing your upper teeth. “Masturbating yourself in my office”
“I bet half of the camp heard you jacking off to my name” you answered, not willing to let a provocation go without a reply. “Like a beast in heat”
You locked your legs behind his calves, and used your now free hands to press him closer to you. The meat of his ass was tender and firm, and you squeezed it hard. Azriel drowned his groan against your lips, and without further invitation, showed you just what a beast he could be.
He pitoned in and out of you with a formidable strength, giving the sun was just coming up and he had stayed up late between your legs. His left hand rose to your breast and cruelly squeezed, capturing your nipple between his thumb and pointy finger.
You threw your head back in the pillow, crying out his name and leaving him access to your neck. His mouth was rough, long gone the sweet love-making of the last day. Your arms held onto his shoulders and sneaky fingers brushed against his wings.
When he almost crumbled against you, his legs giving up and his pace slowing, you smiled proudly to yourself.
“Poor Illyrian bat” you teased him. “No one to touch your wings for so long”
“Like you wouldn’t have killed them”
You didn’t bother answering, knowing it was true. Something as intimate as touching his wings, making him shudder even when he rutted, was yours. Neither of you lasted long after that, only another soft touch from you had him shouting your name roughly against your neck, probably all Velaris hearing him shattering his high.
Just watching him crumple was enough to make you cum, but if that wasn’t enough, one of his shadows, licked a deep stripe from your entrance to your clit, squeezing your button until your legs locked tightly around him and you broke.
After more orgasms than what you could count, you were sure that was the last one in you. Not even biting your lip was enough to stop the sounds leaving your soul, Azriel whispering something in your ear as he held you against his chest with one arm, your back not touching the bed.
The first ray of sun sneaking through the window hit the side of his face when you opened back your eyes. His hair was ruffled, his cheeks pinkish and his eyes bright. So bright and happy that you could look away.
You knew his life hadn’t been easy before you, that his past haunted him when he least expected it. His line of work was hard too, and his eyes had lost the innocence long before you met him. But sometimes, when it was just the two of you, you swore the boy Azriel could have been peaked through.
His smile was more radiant than any sun that could enter the room. You felt your heart warming your whole body at the pure, absolute love that you felt for him.
“I missed you” he repeated.
“Me too. You shouldn’t be allowed to leave for so long”
“Maybe Rhys has something to say about it”
“Maybe we have something to say about it”
Azriel’s hazel eyes traveled down your chest to your belly, where he could already notice the bump. It hadn’t been there when he left, and he had spent a good hour crying about it when he came back.
Laying back on his side, he left his hand over the life that you two had created. Tears quickly appeared in your eyes as you thought about it. You didn’t want to assume the gender, didn’t want to know until the birth. Everything you had gone through, the obstacles and the pain, was worthy when you imagined the life ahead.
It would be the last big mission Azriel went for a while. Rhysand had cancelled everything he had in mind for his shadowsinger when he learned the news, only leaving the inevitable one that he had already finished.
For the next seven months, Azriel would be yours to enjoy. Mornings waiting up to his sleeping face, meals together, and long nights between the sheets. It was enough to let the first tear roll down your cheek.
Azriel caught it quickly with his thumb. He leant down to press a slow kiss to your wobbling lips, his own heart racing.
“I won’t be leaving you ever” he admitted against your lips. “Not even when you want to kick me out for the pregnancy pains”
“Glad we’re agreeing on the culprit” you chuckled.
It was a different type of kiss; one you hadn’t shared with any past lovers. His lips brushed against yours with all the care and love he could muster through the bond, trapping your lower one between his teeth. It wasn’t rough or rushed.
With your eyes closed and your hand over his right above your future babe, you cherished the months to come.
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