For this prompt, I couldn’t resist showing Azriel finally getting the rest he’s been deprived of for so long, wrapped around Elain, the one person who brings him true peace and quiet.
The way he holds her close, as if making sure she’s real, and finally lets himself drift off… it’s everything he’s ever needed.
Because when he’s with Elain, the world fades. The shadows hush. And the spymaster finally sleeps.
Thank you so much to @lynx_illustration for this breathtakingly tender piece, you captured their peace and intimacy perfectly. ✨ 💜
Summary: Y/n's in labour. Azriel needs to stay calm.
•○●⛦●○•
Word Count: 805
Warnings: labour ig? azzie being scared and sad cus yn is in pain :(
A/n: HAPPY DAY 1 OF @azrielappreciationweek YALL WOOHOOOO 🥳
all fics in the week will be like a series cus theyre all revolving around azzie and his daughter hehe but it isnt a series ig?
ANYWAY ENJOYYYY 🥳
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
Rhysand did not see the shift in his spymaster. Did not see the way he stiffened, the way his eyes went distant before focusing again, fist clenched.
He said no words, nothing to indicate he knew his mate was going into labour. And if the meeting with Keir had not ended when it had and Azriel hadn’t immediately winnowed away without preamble, Rhys wouldn’t have even known.
Even when Rhysand and Cassian followed their brother to his house on the outskirts of Velaris, welcomed by agonising screams of Azriel’s mate, Rhysand saw him stand quietly in the hallway.
Rhysand could not fathom being that cool, that quiet if he knew Feyre was in labour.
He had to give it to Azriel, the male was great at hiding his weaknesses. And Rhysand would have been convinced he was still composed had he not seen that in the dark corridor, light glinted off of the tears rolling down his cheeks.
Azriel still did not move, standing still against the wall with his hands folded behind his back.
It shook Rhys more than him pacing and losing his mind would have.
°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°
Azriel’s pov.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to curse himself out loud. After all, he was the reason his darling mate was going through the pain of birth.
Should’ve resisted when she said she wanted kids.
But alas, it was now too late to do anything but stand here helpless as he heard her loud cries of pain from their bedroom.
"I- Azriel! Az-"
It took all Azriel had in him to stand outside while his mate, his wife went through unbearable pain he knew he could not even fathom of. Having your privates stretched while you had to push out a literal being was something he knew his worst wounds would look like paper cuts in comparison.
It made him respect females more at the moment.
Through the bond, he felt flashes of hot agony and cold pain, but he was aware it was nothing, nothing compared to what his mate was going through.
The door opened the slightest bit, the worried eyes of an apprentice healer peeking out. "Spymaster? Madja said you can come in to soothe your mate."
Instantly, Azriel was hurrying inside the room, his eyes finding his mate lying on the bed.
Keep calm. Keep calm. Keep calm.
But how could he, seeing as the one person he could ruin the world for, was sobbing, tears running down her face in constant streams, aided by the sweat gathering on her skin?
He hurried over to her side, her palm instantly finding his.
"My love, I’m here."
She gasped in pain, nails digging into his palm.
Cool. Stay cool. It will be fine.
"Just one more push dear, then you can rest."
Azriel turned his head to Madja when she said that, relief spreading through his veins. At least the torture Y/n was going through would be over soon.
Y/n nodded, meeting Azriel’s eyes. Even while she was pushing out their baby, she found it in herself to offer him a weak smile.
Be calm.
Not even a moment after Y/n dropped back down on the bed with an exhausted sigh, loud cries filled the room. Azriel leaned down, placing his forehead against his mate’s. She smiled up at him, her eyes tired.
"No more babies. Y/n, I’m telling you, I cannot see you in pain."
Y/n had the audacity to pout. "But what if our baby gets lonely?"
He shook his head, kissing Y/n’s cheek. "I won’t let them get lonely."
He straightened when he heard footsteps approaching, lifting his head to look at Madja, who grinned at them over the baby’s head. "It’s a daughter."
Tears gathered in Azriel’s eyes as Madja leaned down, his daughter’s face coming into view for the first time. Azriel could not look away.
She’s beautiful.
Her eyes are so pretty.
She stared back at him with wide eyes.
Don’t cry. Stay calm. Stay quiet.
Fuck calm. Fuck quiet.
He let the tears fall as Y/n placed a hand on his arm, telling him to take his daughter. And even though he did not want to taint the pure soul made of him and his beloved, he extended his arms. Y/n had had the time of months to scold and train Azriel to not be scared of his own child.
The moment Madja stepped out of their room, Azriel let out an involuntary sob, accompanied by a look in his mate’s direction, who was crying too.
"I love her so much."
She nodded, giggling. "Me too." After a pause, she continued. "Hazel. That’s what we decided."
He nodded, unable to look away as he leaned down to press his lips to her tiny forehead.
@duskwhisperer and I are so excited to share “Little Heir” with you for @azrielappreciationweek day one, the family you make.
Thank you, @ruisfree for collaborating with us and bringing this piece to life. Still smiling and kicking our feet over all the creative details you added. We loved working with you! 💕
This commission and fic were inspired by the adorable idea of Azriel catching Nyx sneaking Aunt Elain’s cookies late at night. 🍪 We wanted to capture Azriel trying not to smile while Nyx guiltily looked up at him. With the scene set in Elain and Azriel’s kitchen, we thought it would be perfect to show Nyx’s artwork on display. And of course, we couldn’t resist showing our appreciation for a shirtless Az. 😏 We truly hope you adore this piece as much as we do.
Do Not Repost
🎨 @ruisfree | Comm by: @duskwhisperer & @tswaney17
Characters belong to Sarah J. Maas
~~~~~
My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics
My ao3 account: tswaney17
Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕
Azriel felt the pull even in his deep sleep. That urgent tug that something was amiss. He knew the feeling of his shadows trying to drag him from his slumber. Had experienced it for years.
He very nearly growled at the disruption, until a single shadow curled around his ear, whispering their secrets.
The heir is awake. He wanders the house.
That had his attention, his eyes blinking open and seeing the sky outside their bedroom window still stained deep blue and purple, the sun not yet basking over the eastern mountains to grace them with its presence. The moon’s glow across the floor indicated it was still very late at night or in the wee hours of the morning. Far too early for the nearly five-year-old to be out of bed.
Why Nyx was awake, he didn’t know, but he’d soon find out. Azriel carefully detached himself from Elain’s warm body. Her brows furrowed in protest, a wordless sound passing through her parted lips as he slowly slipped away.
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Summary: The Inner Circle recounting when they figured out you and Az liked each other.
Warnings: Fluffy af
Word Count: 1,642
Notes: Day 3 for the win!
_________________________________________
Rhysand knew the moment you and Azriel met, that you were meant to be.
It was like time slowed down. You, injured but still spewing insults at the enemies, struggling in Cassian’s arms as he brought you into the medical tents, trying to get back into the fight. Blood stained across your abdomen and it hurt like hell but your anger eased the pain somewhat.
You were a fiery spirit who lit up the room when he set you down, the healers swarming around you, their hands warm and gentle. They’d asked Rhysand to hold down your shoulders while the warlord trapped your ankles from kicking up as they fixed up your lacerated stomach.
The shadowsinger swept in through the flap of the tent on a breeze of midnight, needing desperately to talk to his brothers about the information one of his scouts had told him, when he saw you bucking up on the table, teeth gritted as you struggled against the two Illyrians holding you down.
He froze in his spot.
Azriel watches as you fight against his brothers, doing your damndest to get back into battle. You’re wasted here, you need to be out there defending the people that you care for the most, not inside the healers tent, for you knew that they wouldn’t let you back out onto the battlefield once they were done.
Rhysand watches as you turn to see who’s entered the medical tent, body going slack as you meet the eyes of the shadowsinger. He’s the most handsome male you’ve ever seen, clad in his onyx leathers with darker hair to match. His siphons gleam a bright blue and the hand that’s holding his sword goes slack at the sight of you.
That was when he knew.
__________
It was a wild Saturday night at Rita’s. It always was when Mor had convinced the Inner Circle to go out, shoving drink after drink into your hands. You could only slurp them down so fast and you didn’t even notice Azriel’s worried gaze on you as you took another shot but Mor did. She shared a knowing look with her cousin who tutted in response, calling foul play into her mind.
They’d had a bet going as soon as she realized that one of her longest friends had fallen for someone new. She knew that Azriel was much too shy to do something about it – knew it from experience – and she thought that she’d give the both of you a little hand.
She brushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, sauntering up to the shadowsinger and shoving a shot into his hand, her bright red lips in a cutting smirk as she told him to drink.
He didn’t. Azriel didn’t have to wait long for her to leave because her favorite song started playing as the glass was passed to him and she grabbed your hand and shoved her way to the dancefloor with you close behind.
He stared down at the liquor, grimacing before setting the glass down on the table. He sat with his brothers, who were busy talking about something his shadows would fill him in on later. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off of you, Mor noticed, as you and her danced together, the alcohol buzzing beneath your skin.
You threw your head back laughing and his heart stammered in his chest. The blonde watched secretly as a small smile crossed his lips, just from watching you have fun. Her heart warmed to see Azriel this way: sneaking glances over to where you were, keeping an eye on you and admiring you from a distance.
Her heart hurt for him, knowing that he didn’t think he deserved someone as good as you, who fought for what she wanted, who loved with her entire being. You were good for him, good for each other. If only he’d loosen up.
If watching the spymaster observing you wasn’t how she figured it out, it was when another male came up to dance with you when she knew for sure.
He wrapped an arm around your waist and you turned, peering up at the male with blurry eyes, grinning way too big from the drinks and the fun you were having with your friends, your cheeks would hurt in the morning.
You let him dance with you, wrapping an arm around his neck, your glass held out so as not to spill in the other, you were a single female afterall. Azriel watched, the smile thinning to a near frown, sharp hazel eyes glaring at the male who held you in his arms.
He wished that were him.
__________
Feyre and her nosy mate couldn’t help themselves at the murmuring coming from the library. She hadn’t believed Rhys when he’d told her that Azriel was definitely head over heels into you.
The High Lady hadn’t noticed anything different about Azriel, though her eyes were glued to her own mate everytime he was in the room.
It wasn’t like she couldn’t believe it, but Azriel had been so hopelessly in love with Mor for the past few centuries that she didn’t think his attention would be stolen away so quickly, and without her knowledge nonetheless.
But here the two of you were, Azriel scratching the back of his head nervously as you held the book he’d passed over to you in your hands, examining the cover of the worn book.
“It’s one of my favorites,” he admits, hands clasped together behind his back. It makes Feyre’s heart ache, for she knew that the shadowsinger tended to hide them as an anxious reflex.
He never shared his books with anyone, ever. So this was definitely a sign that the male was into you, as he watched you with soft eyes as you flipped slowly through the pages, only to avert his eyes when you looked up, a beaming smile all of your own that dimmed when you noticed he had looked away.
“Thank you, Azriel,” you respond, clutching the book to your chest, “I’m looking forward to reading it.”
“I could–” he cuts himself off, going stock still.
But you urge him on, brows furrowed, “What is it?”
The High Lord and Lady have already winnowed out of the library by the time the spymaster tells you that you hadn’t been alone.
Sneaky indeed.
__________
Amren notices as soon as she sees the two of you in a room together for the first time.
This mission was a big one, and it would be a nasty one too, she could tell.
The entire Inner Circle was gathered in Rhysand’s office, talking over strategy and plans for the upcoming war. Azriel had always been a silent shadow in the corner of the room, staring out the window at Mother knows what, but this time, he was at the table, staring you down as you offered yourself for a dangerous part of the mission.
“You shouldn’t be going alone,” he says, and Amren can hear the slight waver in his tone, “We should be teaming up at the very least.”
“Any more than one person could alert the enemy,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. You didn’t understand why Azriel was acting like this all of a sudden, you’d been on missions like this before.
His glance is pleading for a fleeting moment before his walls are back up and he’s retreating towards the window, his shadows swirling around him, covering his clenched jaw and balled fists. He doesn’t want you to go, put yourself in the middle of harm's way, not if he wasn’t going to be there to protect you.
The short female hides her smirk behind her glass of blood as she watches you glance off to the brooding Illyrian, confused as to why he seemed so upset.
__________
He couldn’t sleep, he had too much on his mind, so Cassian decided to go up to the training ring where he could let off some steam, clear his mind, or if he was lucky, his brother would be up there to spar against him.
He rubbed his tired eyes as he made his way up the stairs to the training ring, but paused when he heard your laugh.
Cassian wasn’t sure why you’d still be awake this late, but even he wouldn’t turn down a practice match with you. Maybe he’d confide in you instead, wanting to tell someone of what was on his mind, but not wanting to talk to his brothers.
He was about to make himself known when he heard the low, husky voice of Azriel, murmuring something to you that had you giggling again. The busybody warlord peeked his head around the staircase and watched as you and Azriel stood closely, not enough to touch, but close enough that he knew what was going on.
He mentally cheered for his brother, who was never the joking type, but here he was, making you laugh like it was the easiest thing in the world. It wasn’t. Cassian knew.
It’s nice and his heart warms as he listens to his brother making you happy, each jab of banter has you leaning in a little further into the spymaster, who finally picks up the hint and goes for it, brushing a strand of hair from your face and behind your ear, staring down at you intently.
You can see the vulnerability in his eyes, can hear his erratic heartbeat as he studies you. You can’t wait, you’d waited long enough for this moment, so you take the chance, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him down as you press up onto your toes, capturing his lips with your own.
Cassian grins to himself, retreating down the stairs.
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