The Inner Circle had stayed later than planned at Rita’s, which was how you ended up tucked under Azriel’s arm on the walk out, slightly tipsy, entirely happy, warm from both wine and his scent.
Azriel wasn’t drunk—of course he wasn’t—but the faint pink at the tops of his ears said he’d actually enjoyed himself tonight. His shadows were quiet, content, flickering lazily as you stumbled over a cobblestone.
He steadied you instantly.
“Careful,” he murmured, voice low and warm at your temple.
You blinked up at him, heart suddenly too full.
“Az?”
“Mhm?”
“I love you,” you said, very seriously. “Like… love-love you.”
A soft laugh escaped him. “I know, sweetheart.”
“No, but like…” You poked his chest. “I love you so much I want to have your baby”
Azriel stopped walking.
Completely.
Up ahead, Cassian bumped into Rhys and muttered something, but they were too far to catch the words. Nesta glanced back, eyebrow raised—then kept walking.
You didn’t notice any of it.
“I mean—not now,” you continued. “I’m not ovulating at Rita’s, that feels rude.”
Cassian made a confused choking sound. Feyre elbowed him and kept moving.
“—but someday? I think I’d like it. Your baby. Little wings. Little shadows. Very cute.”
Azriel’s breath left him.
His shadows went still.
And then:
“Say it again,” he murmured.
You swayed closer. “Azriel, who else would I want that with?”
He looked like you’d dropped a star into his chest.
And then—because tipsy you had no volume control—you added, loudly:
“I kind of want your baby now, honestly.”
That part the Inner Circle definitely heard.
Cassian tripped over his own feet. Rhys grinns, Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose. Nesta cackled.
Everything after that was quiet—Azriel’s hand sliding to the small of your back, pulling you closer, shadows cocooning the two of you the second he decided the conversation was no longer for public consumption.
He lowered his mouth to your ear, voice barely a whisper—soft, dark, meant only for you.
“Sweetheart,” he breathed, “if you keep saying things like that… I’m going to take you home and fill you until you can’t form a single word.”
Your breath hitched.
He brushed his nose along your cheek, still whispering against your skin.
“Don’t tempt me with giving you my child. Not here. Not when I’ve imagined it so many times I can barely think straight.”
Your legs actually wobbled.
“Az…” you whispered.
“If you want that future with me,” he murmured, “you only have to say the word. I want it more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
Your fingers twisted in his leathers. “I meant it.”
He pressed a kiss to your ear—slow, reverent.
“When you’re sober, I’ll ask again. And if you still want it… I’ll give you everything. Every dream. Every future.”
You giggled, flushed.
“And the baby?”
Azriel pulled back just enough for you to see the smile—wide, boyish, devastating.
“That, too,” he whispered.
Up ahead, Cassian yelled, “CAN WE PLEASE WALK FASTER, I’M TRAUMATIZED,” but his voice barely reached through Azriel’s shadows.
Azriel tucked you firmly into his side, shadows shielding the two of you from the world, as he guided you home—smiling like the happiest male alive.
A/N: Yes, I know, this was supposed to be posted tomorrow. And yet, here we are. I failed an exam, was feeling sad, so, yeah. I figures posting Azriel content would make me feel better, so enjoy.
Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears 💙
The clock in your small cottage is the only sound breaking the peaceful silence when Azriel walks in.
It’s late when he comes back from the training ring, his body covered in sweat and already healing bruises. Cassian hadn’t gone easy on him, he’d gotten tougher in Azriel’s absence. That’s on him for neglecting his training these past few months, Azriel thinks. If it wasn’t for you, Azriel probably would’ve never allowed himself to leave your side for this whole pregnancy and the months following the arrival of the babe. But alas, you have established some boundaries, and he needs to get used to the fact that you need to have some kind of personal space and alone time every once in a while.
Azriel groans when he bends over to unlace his boots, placing them neatly beside yours on the grey carpet decorating the entrance hall. He hasn’t felt this sore in years, his body is revolting against him for the negligence he put them under these past few months. He really needs to get back into shape. He needs to be fit to protect you and the babe, at all times.
A scared hand comes up to his chest, trying to rub away the unpleasant tightness the thought of being unapt to ensure your safety caused.
His feet drag him automatically to the bathing chambers. His clothes fall to the ground, one by one, his shadows discarding them in the laundry bin for him as his mind busies to worrying. Azriel nearly scrubs his skin raw, the wet rag going back and forth, back and forth, back and forth on his body. It’s as if he’s trying to make the dread sticking to his skin go away by scrubbing it off.
back and forth, back and forth, back and forth…
It’s only when his skin starts to burn and sting that he halts, reality coming back to him. He still feels dirty, unworthy, and weak, when he puts down the towel. His hands are shaking, another painful reminder at how shit he is at getting a hold on himself. He’s supposed to be a spymaster, Cauldron. He should be strong, in control of his mind and body, alert at all times…
It’s his job, to protect, to kill if needed. And yet he has let himself slip, miserably. He’s become weak, so weak.
Perhaps he doesn’t deserve the privilege of being yours if he can’t be reasonable about it. He shouldn’t let himself get distracted. It’s dangerous, he knows it. Being weak puts you, the babe, and every citizen of Velaris at risk.
He needs to be better than this. Better, better, better…
betterbetterbetterbetterbetterbetter—
When Azriel opens his eyes again, or when he retrieves his vision, he isn’t sure, he’s standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom. The curtains are drawn, blocking any light from penetrating the room, leaving it to bask in pitch darkness, just the way you like it. Azriel always used to sleep with the curtains pulled, rising with the sun in the morning, but when he met you, he noticed how you preferred sleeping with them drawn, so you can sleep in in the mornings when Azriel leaves for work, so he adapted. Azriel will do anything for his mate.
The sound of your soft snores lures him to bed like a siren’s song luring a sailor in the deepest depth of the sea. He navigates blindly into the darkness and easily finds his way into bed. Azriel lifts the bedsheets and slip beneath them slowly, making sure to control his movement in order to let you sleep. He tucks his arm underneath your pillow, and your body automatically moves closer to his, your back fitting perfectly against his bare chest.
A soft smile makes its way on Azriel’s face, his dimples adorning his cheeks. He buries his face in the back of your neck, the smell of you plus something so singular to the babe growing inside of you fill his nose and makes his heart full of love. It lightens up the constant weight on his shoulders, making his body feel lighter, almost numb.
He yawns, allowing his eyes to close and letting the exhaustion of the day take over him. He starts to drift to sleep, a hand on your hip, the other tucked under your head, your body pressed together…
But as soon as sleep claims him and he lets go of control, his whole body jolts. His eyes snap back open, and his breathing starts to get faster, heavier. He’s shaking, again. He needs to be alert, needs to stay in control, to protect, to–
“Az?”
Azriel barely hears your voice over the ringing in his ears. He forces his body to relax, uncurling his clenched fist on your hip as he regains a semblance of control. “Sorry.”
“Mh,” You mumble sleepily, scooting closer to him.
Your hand reaches for his, tugging it forward. Gently, you open his palm, kissing it before placing it flat against your stomach.
It has gotten so big, Azriel realizes. The babe is growing so much, and so quickly. Too quickly. A thousand of ‘what ifs’ run through his head, blurring any rational thought.
“It’s moving, see?” You yawn, moving Azriel’s hands to where his babe his kicking inside your womb, far too excited to feel his father’s presence. “Madja says it’s a good thing. Though I’m tempted to think otherwise, this babe is really determined to steal my precious sleep away.”
Even though your comment his followed by a tired chuckle, Azriel can’t help but feel ashamed. He knows, deep down, that it’s him tha woke you up, not the babe.
“Hey,” You say, turning around slightly to meet his eyes through the darkness. “We’re okay. We’re safe.”
Your words echo in Azriel’s mind, steadying his racing thoughts like an anchor. Safe.
He nods, and his thumb gently rubs small circles on the side of your stomach. “Okay.”
“Let’s sleep, Azzie,” You yawn, your eyes closing as soon as you turn back around, letting your mate hug you from behind. “We need to rest while we can. Madaja says we won’t get much of that for the next few years after the babe's arrival.”
Azriel chuckles, silently agreeing with you as he forces his body to relax. You’re okay. You’re safe. Everything is perfect, and you and him desperately need some rest.
And so, when sleep comes and gets him this time, he lets himself be dragged into sweet dreams of you, him, and a perfectly wrapped winged bundle wiggling in your arms.
Azriel taglist:
ACOTAR general taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @paige0103 @princesssunderworld
Summary: Based on the request: "Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell… reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame"
Word count: ~700
Warnings: azriel's pov, fluff that will make you explode probably idk
a/n: Hi so I'm crazy and needed to write this after getting asks about it and getting inspo surrounding Az singing night court lullabies to Mel. Please enjoy and I'm sorry for two posts in one day 😅
read part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part 6
Main Masterlist ♡
~~
Azriel was back in her room the moment he heard the call.
He’d placed Melanie down in her bed only ten minutes prior, but her sleep had been fitful and disjointed over the past day and Azriel hadn’t expected her to stay down for long. It was strange—the way the bond connecting him to you burned with the same protectiveness for Melanie.
“Hey, Melanie,” Azriel whispered, kneeling beside her bed with his fingers resting on the outer edge of her quilt. “What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”
Melanie sat up in her bed with a small groan, the braid you had put in her hair earlier in disarray. “Yeah. Don’t wanna sleep. Where’s mommy?”
Azriel hummed and pushed a wild curl behind her ear. “Mommy’s sick, so she’s sleeping. Like you should be.”
“You aren’t sick, Mr. Azriel?”
“No, I can’t get sick like you. Not right now, anyway.”
Melanie’s brow furrowed and her head swayed. “Can you hold me like mommy does?”
Azriel’s heart shattered in his chest at her request. Her sleepy eyes blearily stared up at him as he let out a shaky breath and attempted to push down some of his joy at her request.
Maybe you didn’t fully trust him yet, but Melanie did.
“Sure, sweetheart,” he replied, reaching out beneath her arms to hoist her up. When her head immediately found a home in the juncture of his neck, Azriel melted. “Are you feeling any better?”
Melanie fisted Azriel’s shirt as he situated her against his chest. “Little bit.”
Sometimes, when she spoke, Azriel could hear you in Melanie’s voice.
He wanted so badly to be part of that connection.
The want often scared him.
“Can we go to mommy’s room?” she asked, pulling her head up to send him a sleepy question. “Not to wake her up. Mommy’s room is just nice.”
The two of you always sought each other out—always found safety in being near.
Azriel rubbed Melanie’s back and nodded with a smile that was fueled both by adoration and melancholy.
Your room was dark when he entered. Melanie had taken a glance at your sleeping figure and then rested her head back into the crook of Azriel’s neck. He could feel each breath she took and felt each clench of her fists into his shirt.
“Is this better?” Azriel asked, voice so low and careful he wasn’t sure if the five-year-old would hear him.
But Melanie nodded and whispered back a small confirmation that made Azriel’s chest hurt. He held her closer to his chest and watched the rise and fall of yours as you slept an arm’s length away. When Melanie’s breathing didn’t even out after a few minutes, he placed a hand behind her head and started lightly swaying.
“You have to try and sleep, Mel. That’s how you get better,” he whispered into her ear.
“I’m trying,” she whispered back, strained and trying to keep quiet for her mom. “It’s hard, Mr. Azriel. My head doesn’t feel good.”
Azriel tutted and hated that there was very little he could do for this illness. “I know, Mel. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Her only response was to bury her face further into his shoulder.
Azriel thought back to his youth, to the perils and hardships he had endured, and he sought after the light—the good moments. His mother’s singing stood out, the melody of a Night Court lullaby gently lulling in his mind.
Azriel didn’t have much experience with children other than Nyx, but, with Melanie, that didn’t seem to matter. With Melanie, everything came to him with a practiced ease that didn’t feel deserved. But he took from it anyway.
So, Azriel began to hum the lullabies from his childhood, wrapping a wing around the child in his arms to block everything else out.
Don’t know if you want to do this, but hear me out for a sec:
Azriel x reader where she’s his daughter but he didn’t know she existed, and she knew bc her mom fed her lies that he just didn’t care and her mom dies and Az is her only living relative so she goes to him and is basically like “look, I know you didn’t want anything to do with me-“ and he’s like “I’m so sorry if we met at some point, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”? Ends good.
Nonny, why would you do this to my heart? 😭 The idea of Azriel having a daughter he didn't know about completely broke me. Here is your angst with a side of happy tears.
The Shadows Know
Pairing: Azriel x Daughter!Reader (Familial)
Rating: Teen (Angst, Family, Comfort, Dad!Azriel)
Summary: You confront the Spymaster for abandoning you and your mother, only to realize he never knew you existed.
The knocking on the door of the River House was hesitant. When you were finally ushered into the sitting room, the air was so thick with power it made your teeth ache.
You stood in the center of the room, clutching the strap of your worn travel bag until your knuckles turned white. They were all there. The High Lord. His mate. The General. And him.
Azriel. The Shadowsinger.
He stood near the window, his stillness unnatural, shadows curling around his shoulders like smoke. He looked exactly like the portrait your mother had kept hidden in the bottom of her jewelry box—the one she used to glare at when she’d had too much wine.
"State your business," Rhysand said, his voice polite but edged with command.
You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You ignored the High Lord. Instead, you turned your gaze directly to the Spymaster.
Azriel’s hazel eyes met yours. They were cold, indifferent. Like looking into a stone wall. That indifference hurt more than the hatred you had prepared yourself for.
"She’s dead," you said, your voice trembling just a little.
Azriel didn't blink. "Who?"
A bitter laugh escaped your lips. "My mother. Your..." You couldn't even say lover or mate. You didn't know what they had been. "The woman you left to rot in the Hewn City."
The room went deadly silent. Cassian shifted, his wings rustling. Rhysand’s violet eyes narrowed.
Azriel simply stared at you, his expression unreadable. "I believe you have the wrong male."
"Do I?" You took a step forward, the anger finally burning through the grief. "She told me everything. She told me how you walked away. How you didn't want the burden. How you didn't want me."
You dropped your bag to the floor with a heavy thud.
"Look, I know you didn't want anything to do with me," you said, your voice cracking. Tears stung your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. "I know I was the mistake you wanted to forget. But she's gone. I have no money, I have no home, and you are the only living relative I have left in this world. So, hate me all you want. Ignore me. But I had nowhere else to go."
You waited for the dismissal. You waited for him to tell the High Lord to throw you out.
Instead, Azriel took a step toward you. The shadows around him weren't swirling aggressively; they were reaching out. Skittering across the floor toward your boots.
"I’m so sorry if we met at some point," Azriel said, his voice low and utterly devoid of the malice you expected. It was just... confused. "But I don't know what you're talking about."
You froze. "Stop it. Don't lie. Not now."
"I do not lie," Azriel said softly. He looked at Rhysand, then back to you. He studied your face—really studied it. He looked at the shape of your jaw, the set of your eyes, the Illyrian curve of your ears.
"What was her name?" he asked.
You whispered it.
The color drained from the Spymaster’s face. For the first time in centuries, the unshakeable Azriel looked shaken.
"She..." Azriel’s voice failed him. He cleared his throat. "She left. Decades ago. She told me she found a mate in the Autumn Court. She told me she never wanted to see me again."
"She never left the Night Court," you argued, though your certainty was beginning to crumble. "She raised me alone. She said you knew. She said you sent us away because I wasn't... I wasn't good enough."
Azriel moved then. He crossed the distance between you in a blur of Illyrian speed, stopping just inches from you. He didn't touch you, but his shadows did. They drifted over your shoulders, brushing against your cheeks like phantom fingers. They were curious. Gentle.
"They recognize you," he whispered, staring at his own shadows. "They never touch anyone but me. But they recognize you."
He looked into your eyes, and you saw the wall crumble. There was no rejection there. There was a dawning horror, a profound grief, and something else.
"I didn't know," Azriel said, his voice rough. "I swear to you, on my life, on my wings... I didn't know you existed."
You searched his face for the deception your mother had warned you about. But you saw the way his scarred hands were shaking slightly at his sides.
"You didn't know?"
"If I had known," Azriel said, raising a hand as if to touch your face, then stopping, unsure if he was allowed. "If I had known, I would have torn the world apart to get to you. I would never have left you."
The fight went out of your legs. You swayed, and before you could hit the floor, strong arms caught you.
The scent of mist and cedar enveloped you. It smelled like safety.
"I have you," Azriel murmured, pulling you against his chest, his wings flaring out instinctively to shield you from the rest of the room. He held you as if you were made of glass. "I have you now. I’m not letting go."
Over his shoulder, you saw Rhysand and Feyre watching, soft smiles on their faces.
You buried your face in your father’s leathers and finally, for the first time in your life, you let yourself cry. You weren't the unwanted mistake anymore. You were found.
Tumbling down the side of the rocky hill, you manage to hit and scrape every part of your small, frail body on the freezing rough ground. Small wings bleeding and bent at odd angles twitch on your back as you finally stop moving.
You hear laughter above you and making its way towards you. Groaning and spitting out blood and saliva out of your mouth as they reach you. Being ten is one thing in Illyria, being a ten year old bastard daughter in Illyria is another thing.
The boys that shoved you down the hill in the first place are trying to get you to the river to drown you, you have figured that out pretty quickly, but because of having a rough life from the get go you won't be going down without a fight.
It’s a struggle getting back on your feet, your wings being clipped a week prior and now broken and mangled making it hard for you to balance.
“Look at her, she is pathetic.” One of them snickers, you look at the two standing before you, the tall figures looking hazy under the moonlight.
“It’s a wonder she’s lasted this long in the first place. Look at how small she is. We are doing her a favor putting her out of her misery.”
“One day, I will kill you both.” You say with a bloody grin, “It might not be today, or tomorrow but I will do it. With a smile on my face.” You spit blood out at their feet.
It must have been the look of determination or maybe desperation on your face, but the two boys took a step back, and then laughed.
“Sure, but you’re dead tonight bastard bitch.” And they start making their way towards you.
“What did you call her?” A voice appears.
And three figures emerge from the tree line.
You cough a laugh out, and fall to your knees. A comforting warmth appears beside you helping you stand.
“You okay?” And it’s Azriel standing tall and brave before you, even at just twelve years old.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” You say with a grin.
Dinner was always loud and fun with the family all together, Cassian and Nesta seeing who could out drink one another. Feyre and Rhysand egging them on and placing bets, and then you and Azriel silently watching them with warmth and humor.
“Oh to the mother you know damn well if any one here can out drink you it's her.” Rhysand says and gestures to you, to which you balk and choke on your drink you were sipping on.
Azriel’s hand gently rubs your back with a knowing smile on his face. You feel love and mirth through the bond. Everyone has their eyes on you expecting to join in on the bets.
“Ah, that’s not something I need to prove Cassy.” You say with a wink and he pouts. “Plus, I cannot drink right now.”
Feyre drops her glass and it breaks. “Shut the fuck up.” She says while launching toward you with a smile, clearly being more tipsy than anyone was expecting. “Nyx is going to have a cousin.” She says with a sob.
“Feyre darling careful-” Rhys winces and tries to get out before she tackles you. Everyone has huge grins on their faces.
“So? How long have you known?” Nesta asks softly.
“About three months.” Azriel responds with a warm smile.
“Well, that brings up one question I have.” Cassian says with a burp, you wince and call him gross.
“Who is going to be the scary parent?” Cassian asks with a drunkenly serious face.
“Obviously, y/n.” Nesta and Feyre say. Rhysand rubs his chin in thought and nods. “Yes, that's true.”
Azriel looks shocked and you hide a grin in his shoulder.
“Awe, Azzy don’t look so shocked.” Nesta says with a drunken snort. “Your mate is literally a reaper.” And she’s not wrong, you got the nickname centuries ago when you picked up a scythe as the weapon you preferred to fight with. You and Azriel often got the title of the Shadow and Reaper when put on missions together.
The dinner soon comes to an end when Nesta and Cassian pass out on the couches, Feyre asleep on the table and Rhys coaxing her to get to an actual bed.
“I love our family.” You whisper to Azriel as he puts your beanie on your head for you. He drags his hands down to your face, squishes your cheeks and kisses your nose.
“I love you sweets.” He responds to you and then helps you put your shaw on for the cold walk home. You giggle and help him put his gloves on for him.
You both head home down the path, leaning into one another with the snow lightly falling. But for some reason because of him you only feel warmth. And even though you live together you wish the walk was a little longer, just to enjoy that peaceful quiet love with Azriel.
a/n: YAYYYYY! okay so this is it! please lemme know how y'all feel!
Another dadriel fluffy snippet (no heartbreak this time I promise. Just pure undiluted fluff) also does anyone else have like a thousand ideas but haven’t completed one of them? Same.
“Really?” Catrin asked, wiping her tears, her eyes wide with a little bit of snot coming out of her nose, the blood barely there now.
Not a good deal shadowsinger, his shadows warned him, though Azriel could hear the amusement in their whispers. But He couldn’t keep his four year daughter keep crying now could he?
So Azriel, who was still in a panic mode, immediately nodded like a kid, and wiped her tears with the sleeves of his shirt, and did what any sane parent would, “And not only that, I’ll even give you 5 chocolates for every bracelet I make wrong.”
Azriel regretted the words as soon as he said them.
Catrin hiccuped and looked at him with her teal eyes for a moment like he had grown another head, before bursting out into laughter. The shadows formed a tiara on top of her head and started playing with her.
She tried to catch them with her hands, still giggling, though she was never able to catch them, she never gave up. The action reminded him of someone else he loved very much.
The regret was all gone now seeing the smile on his daughter’s face, but Azriel didn’t need to be a shadowsinger to hear his shadows laughing at him.
