Warning: Mentions of abuse, unwanted touching, mentions of alcohol and drugs
~
Keys jingling in your hand, you walked out the front door of Tannyhill, a small smile on your lips as you walked through the homes horseshoe driveway. In the distance you could hear Kelce and Topper whooping loudly, the sound of water splashing following their voices. It had been a good day at Rafe's house; it was Topper's birthday and it had been Rafe's idea to have his party in his backyard. "We'll make it a day to night thing," he had said to you and Kelce the week before, "Have it start at three, people won't show up until four, get people wasted at seven and they'll be outta my damn house by twelve or one." It wasn't a bad plan, especially since Ward and Rose's plane landed back in Outer Banks at 3pm the next day.
The day had went exactly the way Rafe said it would. Friends from high school you all had known for years and new ones from out of state colleges that were just on the island for the summer had come to wish Topper a "Happy fuckin birthday, dude; finally old enough to bang a country club milf." Your boyfriend's backyard had looked like a scene out of Project X; people were packed in their own little friend groups, random dance circles were created when one particular song came onto the speakers that was "too fire not to blast" and there were even teens on his family's dock, letting their feet sit in the water while they blew out clouds of yellow smoke. Drinks were thrown back and laughs were let out and by the time it was midnight, it was just you, Rafe, Topper, and Kelce sipping on seltzer's while swimming.
You were sitting on Rafe's lap when you remembered how far away you had to park your car. You had left to pick up Topper's two cakes, one of them being used specifically for a cake fight that had happened around nine-ish. When you had came back, the streets parking was minimal, forcing you to park a little farther down than usual. The blonde pinched your hip when you moved to get up, frowning at the distance. He was drunk, not messy drunk, but definitely drunk enough where he didn't care about putting on his tough facade in front of his boys as he whined at you to sit back down. "I have to move my car, I forgot I left it so far," you stumbled when you slid your sandals on, steadying yourself with a hand to Rafe's shoulder. He groaned, "Why?" You shook your head, "You know Rose will ask why my car is so far." Putting down his drink on the wooden table, he stood up with you. You quirked a brow, "Where're you going?"
He blinked at you, "With you?"
You shook your head, pushing him back down in the cushioned chair and putting his drink back in his hand. "It's right down the street, I'll just be five minutes, baby." He sighed, not thinking much about it when he agreed. You were on Figure Eight in his home; if it were anywhere else he wouldn't even have been so lenient, but he was as comfortable here as he was in his own skin. "Okay, hurry back." You pressed a quick kiss on his jaw, asking him to grab you a fruity drink before Kelce drank them all. The nineteen year old insisted that he liked a nice cold beer, but after knocking back shots Topper would pass to him when he couldn't drink them, he indulged in his guilty pleasure of colorful drinks.
Looking up from your feet and the cracks in the road, you spotted your white car, but when your slightly tipsy mind processed a man standing at the drivers side with his hands cupped around his eyes to look in the tinted window, you froze in your tracks. The sound of your keys in the air made the man turn around and you gaped at him. He seemed to be pleased with your reaction, clapping his hands in fake joy. "Just the girl I was looking for," he took a step forward and pressed his hand to his heart, faking hurt, when you took a bigger step back from him. "Awe, don't be like that, bunny." You flinched at the old pet name, remembering how he would call you that after you'd hit a bump, licking the white powder from nose playfully. You shivered at the way his blown out pupils trailed over you, wishing you had something else other than a swimsuit top and jean shorts on. "What're you doing here, (Y/EX'S/N)?" Your voice came out shaky and you fisted your hands when you realized how bad this situation really was. You straightened your shoulders, trying to seem less intimidated than you really were. "Heard you went full kook, got clean with the king of Figure Eight," his glossy coked out eyes looked at Rafe's house in the distance behind you and he scoffed, "Didn't think it'd be true. You run away and disappear from me, scare me half to death, and you think that's okay?" His voice was low with anger, and it scared you more knowing he was high, scared you to think that he convinced himself that that's what really happened. You wouldn't let him gaslight you like he had in the past before you built the courage to get away from him. Bringing your hand in the air, you dismissed him in pure disgust. "You're fucking crazy," you told him, taking in your surroundings and bringing your keys between the spaces of your fingers for a makeshift weapon. (Y/EX'S/N) caught you glance at Rafe's house and rose his brows at you threateningly when he watched you think through a hundred different scenarios. "Don't think about it, (Y/N)."
You knew you had no choice, knowing that he was bigger, stronger, and faster than you. As loudly as your throat could manage, you screamed Rafe's name, your terror laced voice cutting through the late night air for a couple seconds before (Y/EX'S/N) ran towards you, backhanding you, a pained yelp leaving you at the feeling of his nail scratching your cheek. Your elbow hit the ground, your keys falling out of your hand, but you didn't have time to register the pain before he grabbed your bicep, lifting you off the pavement roughly to throw your back against the side of your car, the back of your head hitting it at the same time. He pressed his hand against your throat, fingers holding down the sides of your neck as your nails clawed at his arm, desperately trying to breathe in air, but he was too high to feel how deep you scratched at his wrists. He probably wouldn't even remember this in the morning. He used to always question your bruises when he had come out of his high, and you had protected him by giving ridiculous excuses, never telling him he was the one that constantly hurt you. You lifted yourself to your toes, leaned your head back to escape the pressure of his hand but he just pushed up harder, lifting your body almost half a foot off the ground as he used his other hand to help himself choke you out. He was mumbling random nonsense to hisself; "You shouldn't have left" and "This is your fault."
The edges of your eyesight turned black and just as you felt yourself get too lightheaded to fight back, his hand was off your neck and you fell to your knees as you gasped loudly, coughing when you felt oxygen flow through you again.
Rafe couldn't explain the rage that went through him when he saw (Y/EX'S/N) above you in the road, having gotten up and leaving his backyard in record time after hearing your petrified scream in the distance, calling out to him for help. Topper and Kelce followed quickly behind him, disregarding the fact they were shirtless and barefoot as they went to aid you. Rafe didn't know how many times he had punched (Y/EX'S/N) at this point, he was so angry he didn't even remember ripping the junkie off of you. A loud ringing was present in his ears and a fury was in his eyes no one had ever seen before. Topper was making sure you were okay, using his body to block your eyesight of what your boyfriend and Kelce were doing to your old abuser. Rafe had heard stories of what (Y/EX'S/N) had done and every time he promised that it was "on sight" for him if he ever did see him. (Y/EX'S/N) was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Rafe made sure to do the most to him in the moment while he could. The sound of you crying brought the blonde out of his stupor, and he looked down at the piece of trash under him, sweat on his forehead. (Y/EX'S/N) almost looked dead. Blood covered his face and neck, his nose was definitely bent in a way it wasn't supposed to and deep cuts from Rafe's ring were starting to look more gruesome by the second. Rafe gripped his shirt in his fist, pulling his battered body off the ground to make him look in him in the eye. His voice was clear with anger, "If you ever come near her again, I'll fucking kill you," he promised and with that shoved him back into the ground, turning to you and replacing Topper's spot, the other blonde joining Kelce to inflict their own share of pain onto (Y/EX'S/N).
Rafe's demeanor changed instantly at the sight of you. You were terrified, your body pressing into the side of your car to try and make yourself smaller. Rafe shushed you, gathering you into his arms and tucking your head into his neck to get you to avoid looking at the damage he had inflicted. Topper and Kelce stopped their fists from hitting (Y/EX'S/N) when he became unresponsive and through your panic you heard Rafe tell them to drive your car into his driveway, vaguely caught a glimpse of Kelce dragging (Y/EX'S/N) into a space between two bushes. Rafe whispered to you to calm down, pressing kisses against your temple when he stood up with your arms around his bare shoulders and legs clinging to his waist in fear. He felt blood drip from your arm onto his chest, the feel on it making him walk faster towards the front door of Tannyhill.
Your crying subsided by the time Rafe carried you through the doorway of his bedroom, but you clung to him tighter when you felt him place you on the edge of the bed. Rafe gently trailed his hands from your back to your wrists around his neck, whispering that you needed to let go so he could get the first aid kit. You complied, your tearful eyes opening and adjusting to the few light sources in the room, letting your hands sit numbly in your lap. Rafe came back into your line of sight with the white box in hand, and he sat down next to you, putting a finger under your chin to take in the damage properly. You had a long scratch from the corner of your eye to the side of your nose, thankfully not deep enough to leave any kind of permanent mark, but definitely enough for it to ache for a couple days. Your elbow was scratched up from the concrete, staining your skin with semi-dry blood. The worst of your injuries though was your neck. Rafe could already make out the bruise in the shape of a hand developing on your throat, and it took everything in him not to do the same to (Y/EX'S/N), but he knew he couldn't leave you right now, not when you were so vulnerable. He picked up the grey throw blanket on the corner of his bed to wrap it around your bare shoulders before his big fingers picked out the small antiseptic wipes. "This is gonna sting a little, I'm sorry, baby," he fisted the blue comforter next to your thigh. "I'm sorry, shoulda gotten there quicker-" You shook your head, pulling away from the little cloth to look into his sad blue eyes. "You got there as fast as you could," you reassured, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, making sure to avoid staining the soft material with the blood from you elbow. "Please don't blame yourself for something you didn't have any control over," you mumbled quietly, not breaking eye contact with the man that was so obviously in love with you. He just nodded, interlacing his fingers with yours atop your thigh as he moved to wipe the blood off your arm.
A couple quiet minutes passed of Rafe cleaning up the cuts on you, being especially gentle when he wiped at your neck, a frown on his face throughout the whole process. Is this how you felt when he came home after the countless fights he'd been in? He hated how sick in the gut he felt, the thought that he should have gotten to you faster digging into his head. A knock rang through the room, and you looked up to see Topper and Kelce standing in the doorway, both having changed into sweats and t-shirts. "How you doin, (Y/N/N)?" Topper asked, his voice quiet to keep you calm. They walked in as you shrugged, accepting the cold water bottle Kelce had grabbed for you. Rafe used one hand to unscrew the lid for you, and you took a couple sips, not realizing until then how thirsty you were. You urged Rafe to drink some when you were satisfied and he did it just for your peace of mind, raising his hand to cup your cheek in his hand.
"Thank you, for saving me," you said, looking at your friends in the eyes before turning your gaze to Rafe, who was already staring at you. You turned your head to kiss his palm, bringing your hand up to hold it instead.
Kelce dropped his hand onto Rafe's shoulder, "The fucker's lucky that your man didn't kill him," he joked, looking pointedly at Rafe's split knuckles. Rafe flexed his fingers, scoffing lightly, "Motherfucker better not still be there in the morning, or I will."
Topper shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I doubt he's that stupid, he got his warning." Rafe's simple last words to (Y/EX'S/N) ran through his mind again and he shook his head, exhaling a big breath as he stood up from the bed. "Y'all take your pick of a guest room, we're gonna head to bed," Rafe said and the duo nodded, telling you to feel better and rest up before leaving the room, Rafe's door shutting behind them.
You had opened another antiseptic wipe, unfolding it as you stood up to stand in front of Rafe. He held out his hands to you, already knowing the routine and used to the familiar sting as you cleaned his knuckles. He took the wipe from your hand when you were done and walked to the bed to grab the other ones, throwing them away in his little trash can before setting the first aid kit on his dresser. His hand found its place on your hip, pulling your body into his softly. "You wanna take a shower or wait until the morning?" He asked, dragging his palms up and down your bare back under the blanket soothingly. You were exhausted, and you didn't know how you were still standing. Rafe's bedside clock read 1:16am and the sight of it made your eyes feel heavier. Rafe nodded, not needing an answer, "Morning shower it is."
You felt his hand pull at the string holding your bathing suit top to your breasts, and you shrugged out of it, letting the blanket fall off your shoulders and onto the floor with the swimsuit as Rafe opened his shirt drawer, giving you the shirt he got at a surfing competition a year or so back. He knelt onto the floor to open your drawer, pulling out a fresh pair of underwear you stepped into as soon as you took off your shorts. "Go lay down, baby," Rafe whispered as he grabbed a pair of boxers to change into.
He joined you under the covers a few moments after you climbed in, clapping once to get the lights to turn off. You buried your head into his chest, placing little kisses to his shoulders and collar bones as your arm draped itself over his waist. He kissed your forehead, his muscles relaxing at the feeling of you pressed up against him. You looked up at him one more time, your eyes making out the outline of his face in the dark. His hand moved to cup your cheek, his fingers threading into your hair as he dipped his chin down to press his lips to yours delicately, as if you were a china doll that would break if he cradled you too tightly. You kissed him for a couple more seconds, pulling away and pecking him lightly before tucking your head back into the crook of his shoulder. "I love you," you mumbled tiredly, running your hand through the top of his hair.
Rafe admired you, moving his hand to rest on the small of your back. "You're my whole life; I love you too, (Y/N)," he whispered back before watching you fall asleep, him following right behind you.
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it’s stupid, really, the way your chest tightens over something so small. something you know, logically, doesn’t matter. but logic never helps, not when your pulse is a drumbeat in your ears, your breath caught somewhere between too fast and not enough.
“hey.”
rafe’s voice is soft, but you still flinch when he touches your wrist. you don’t mean to, but he notices, because of course he does. he always notices.
his fingers trace slow circles against your skin, grounding, steady. “talk to me.”
“i don’t—” you shake your head, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. it’s stupid. you don’t even know how to explain it. the weight in your chest, the static in your head. how can you explain something that doesn’t make sense?
rafe doesn’t rush you. he doesn’t press for words you don’t have. he just watches you, patient, quiet, his fingers never leaving your skin.
“it’s okay,” he says eventually, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. like it’s already true. “you’re okay.”
and maybe it’s his voice, steady and sure, or maybe it’s the way his hand fits over yours, warm and real. maybe it’s just him. but something in you loosens.
you let out a breath. he squeezes your hand.
and then he’s closer, his breath warm against your cheek, his lips brushing yours, hesitant at first. like he’s waiting, giving you a chance to pull away. but you don’t. you can’t.
so he kisses you, slow at first, then deeper, desperate, like he’s trying to pull you back from whatever place your mind had gone. like he needs you here, with him. and you let him, fingers tangling in his hair, holding onto him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to the world.
because maybe he is.
when he pulls back, his forehead presses against yours, breath heavy. "i'm right here," he murmurs, voice thick with something that feels a lot like love. "always."
synopsis : rafe cameron finally lets you color in his tattoos.
“no way. why the fuck would I want that?”
that was pretty much along the lines of what rafe would respond with every time you asked to color in his tattoos.
every time he was shirtless, your eyes would trail over the inked sleeve of his to the covered backside and then to the marks on his collarbone area. nearly every time rafe was relaxing next to you, shirtless, you’d ask the same thing.
“please? lemme just do it one time, and it’ll wash off anyways!”
“no.”
it would be such a definitive answer, you were starting to lose hope and pretty much gave up.
that is, until one day.
rafe would come home, as per usual, when he notices you aren’t in the living room, waiting for him like always. “baby?”
he knows you’re home, you would’ve leave without texting him, so maybe you were asleep.
thus, he makes his way through the house until he sees the door to the bedroom shut and he opens it gently. “babe, you asleep?” only to be faced with your teary eyes and bundled up form. worry and confusion laces his eyes and he drops the plastic bag he was holding and rushes over. “sweetheart, what’s wrong? why are you crying?”
you sniffle and hug the pillow to your chest tightly and shake your head. “i don’t know.”
“huh?” he wasn’t sure if he heard you right. but you only cover your face with the plush pillow and frown. “i don’t know.. I’ve just been in this mood all day..”
rafe is pretty flabbergasted, absolutely appalled that you don’t even know what’s wrong and he sighs, at least feeling relief you weren’t hurt or anything. “what do you want to do?”
“nothing.. nothing makes me feel better.”
rafe rolls his eyes lightly as he stands, already knowing the right answer before he exhales softly and turns around. “i know that’s not true..” he mutters before he returns the discarded bag by the door and bends to pick it up. “good thing i stopped by the store.”
his hands reach inside and pulls out the box he had bought before walking over to you, seeing your saddened but curious eyes following him. “what’s that..?”
rafe holds out the box and you quietly reach for it, your brows furrowing when you see it’s washable markers.
“markers?”
but instead of verbally answering, rafe slides off his shirt, tossing it aside before sitting on the floor beside the bed and turning around so his tattooed back faces you.
“come on, have at it. just this once.”
your eyes light up as you try to contain the smile building on your lips. “really? you serious?”
rafe glances back, his eyes meeting yours as he smiled softly, despite his playful eye roll. “i’m only giving you one chance, baby.”
and when you squeal, sitting up and pulling out your first color, he chuckles and turns to face forward again.
“just make sure to color in the lines.”
a/n : more rafe fluff. i’m kinda running out of ideas whilst having a ton so if anyone has any ideas or suggestions, im open to writing blurbs!! :>
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A C O T A R
Azriel | fluff | angst | smut | series | personal favs
Cassian | fluff | angst | smut | series | personal favs
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Sometimes I just want to uproot and disappear for a month with no one able to contact me or find me but I can’t because of work and my animals and I’m just stuck here
Summary: Azriel is feeling insecure one night and cheats on Reader. She is absolutely devastated and wants nothing to do with him, but he is determined to show her how much he loves her.
Inspired by the love triangle in Taylor Swift’s betty/august/cardigan
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst, cheating, swearing
Word Count: 6.3k
Betty, I know where it all went wrong
Your favorite song was playing
From the far side of the gym
I was nowhere to be found
I hate the crowds, you know that
Plus, I saw you dance with him
Azriel tucked his wing in tighter as you led him through Rita’s, your hand in his, a bounce in your step. You loved it here: the energy, the dancing, the music.
Azriel, on the other hand, really only went along because he loved you.
The music was pounding in Azriel’s mind, overwhelming his senses. He could normally block it out and will his body to be loose enough to attempt to dance with you, but today had been a particularly long day in which he had to… secure information from some traitors.
He didn’t let his memory go past that, not when he was with you. But it had been a day. A terrible day.
You were dancing now, like you were born to do it, like you didn’t care at all who was watching. You turned to him, a bright smile lighting up your face, and he couldn’t help but soften at the sight, feeling comforted by your effortless radiance.
He would never understand why you had chosen him. He was thankful of course, but he was willing to admit the two of you sometimes seemed like an unlikely pair. You were bright and bubbly, lighting up every room -- a direct juxtaposition to his shadows, his darkness, his tendency to be stoic and silent.
Watching him stay completely still in the middle of the crowd, your face fell, and you sidled up to him, craning your neck to look him in the eyes as you got closer, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Are you okay? We can go home if you want.”
Azriel smiled faintly at you, dipping his head to give you a quick kiss. “Long day. You can dance. I’m going for a drink.”
You nodded, but still eyed him warily for a moment, gaze lingering on his swirling shadows, before turning back to the dance floor.
By the time Azriel got his drink (the strongest they had), you were fully engrossed in a song that he realized was one of your favorites. He watched as you writhed on the middle of the dance floor, swaying your hips, a bright smile on your face.
A male came up to you then, taking your hand and twirling you under his arm. You laughed brightly before moving away from him, dancing on your own once again.
Azriel couldn’t stop his heart from plummeting. That’s the kind of male she should be with, he thought. The kind that goes to a normal job and comes home without shadows or demons to chase away in his mind. The kind that can dance and twirl and laugh with you without a care in the world.
He watched as you danced and danced, occasionally dancing with a random male for a moment before moving on.
She deserves better than you. She always has.
His breath was coming faster and faster now, the music pounding in his ears, through his skull, all that heat from so many bodies closing in on him. He had to get out, had to stretch his wings, had to get out.
Azriel shoved through the crowd and burst through the doors, out into the cool night, stretching out his wings and breathing deeply. He cursed himself. He was normally better than this, better at maintaining his emotions, his panic. By the Cauldron, he was the Night Court’s spymaster and he couldn’t handle an evening in a nightclub with his lover.
Pathetic. That’s what he was.
“Are you okay?” a light, sing-songy voice broke through his rumbling thoughts.
He turned to see a very pretty High Fae woman. She was dressed a bit like Mor, he couldn’t help thinking, wearing a thin red dress that showed off all her assets, her light brown hair cascading down past her shoulders.
She gave him a look that he hadn’t seen, or at least paid attention to, from a stranger in a very long time.
He blinked. “Honestly? I don’t think so.”
Her lips slowly curved up into a sultry smile. “Anything I would be able to help you with?”
No. No, you cannot help me. I don't think anybody can.
She watched him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, before she tilted her head for him to follow.
And Mother save him, he did.
---
And I can see us twisted in bedsheets
August sipped away like a bottle of wine
'Cause you were never mine.
Your heart had been pounding, your body trembling, ever since you realized that Azriel was nowhere to be found.
Something must have happened to him. It was the only explanation. He wouldn’t just leave you without a word.
But, what could have possibly happened to the shadowsinger, in Velaris, of all places?
Your hand shook as you raised it to pound on the door of the river house.
Rhysand was the one who answered, shirtless, hair a mess. He looked very unhappy to see you.
“I need you to find Azriel,” you nearly shouted before he could scold you.
He sobered immediately, noticing your distress. “What do you mean?”
You explained to him what had happened, that he had seemed off at Rita's, that he told you he was going to get a drink, then vanished. You had assumed that he had been lingering on the outskirts of the dance floor, and didn't notice for quite some time that he had left completely.
“I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation,” he said soothingly. “Did you check your apartment?”
You nodded. He wasn't there, at the home he shared with you. “And the townhouse.”
Rhysand's violet eyes were contemplative. Hesitating.
“Can't you just…feel for him or whatever?”
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Yeah. I can.”
“Then do it!”
Rhysand's eyes went unfocused after a beat, and when they widened again in surprise, you knew he had found him.
“What is it? Is he okay?”
“He's… at a random apartment. At least it's not one that I recognize.”
Your heart lurched. “What? Why?”
Rhys shrugged, his expression darkening. “Okay. Shit. Wait here, I'll go tell Feyre what's going on and take you to him.”
Rhysand came back a moment later, now in his normal black attire, and winnowed you in front of an apartment complex not far from Rita's. You had certainly never been here before. The silence was agony as you followed Rhys up the stairs, to the door.
He glanced back at you, a question in his eyes. You shook your head and he knocked, the sound rattling around in your skull.
You heard shuffling, giggling, and then.
Then.
A woman answered the door. A beautiful woman who was wearing Azriel's shirt.
A woman who was wearing your lover’s shirt and nothing else.
Your knees nearly buckled. You tasted bile in your mouth. You were going to be sick.
She cocked her head to the side. “Yes?”
Rhysand was deathly still, his power rippling from him, darkening the doorway. You remained behind him, but you had to know. Had to know for sure.
So you peeked around Rhysand's shoulder, further into the woman's apartment.
And saw Azriel, bare chested, lying in her bed, the sheets bunched up at his waist, his wings drooping on the ground, his hand tucked under his head, staring at the ceiling, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
You barely had time to spin around before you entered your stomach in the hallway.
---
The worst thing that I ever did
was what I did to you.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Az?” Rhysand's voice boomed from the door the woman had just answered.
Hearing such a familiar voice in such an unfamiliar setting was initially what shocked Azriel enough that he nearly fell out of bed.
Then it hit him.
Rhysand was here.
No no no no no no--
Azriel scrambled up out of the woman's bed, frantically searching for his pants and tugging them on.
“I-”
“Don't answer that.” Rhysand spat, and it was then that Azriel realized Rhys was holding you upright as both of you lingered in the doorway.
His heart stopped working. His mind stopped working.
He said your name, but it came out more like a croak.
You were trembling in Rhysand's arms, tears sliding down your cheeks.
What had he done what had he done what had he done--
Azriel took a step forward, but you recoiled, and he knew you would've fallen to the ground if Rhysand hadn't been holding you.
You looked… afraid of him. Not just hurt, not just disgusted, but actually afraid.
He said your name again, his voice and his heart breaking, but you turned to Rhysand and said in the smallest voice he'd ever heard, “Get me away from him.”
Rhysand shot you one last withering glance before he winnowed out of sight, taking you with him.
It was silent for a moment, until the woman said, “If I'd known you were such an asshole, I never would have done this.”
Azriel sank to his knees and wept.
---
You drew stars around my scars
But now I'm bleeding.
Back at the river house, Feyre was holding you as your body continued to shake, silent tears continued to fall, while Rhysand paced back and forth, rage radiating off of him.
“Azriel?” Feyre asked, wide eyed. “Our Azriel?”
“He's certainly not mine anymore,” you sniffed, and Feyre winced, shooting you an apologetic glance, holding you a little tighter.
“I can't believe it,” Rhys said, still pacing in the spare room where they had set you up for the night. “I cannot believe him.”
There was a knock on the door of the house and you froze. You all knew who it was.
You looked at Rhys, your eyes pleading.
“I won't let him in,” he said, his expression softening as he turned to you. “I'll ward the fucking house against him if I have to,” he growled, mostly to himself, as he retreated to send him away.
You leaned further into Feyre, grateful for your friends.
For his friends, you realized. His family.
They were on your side now, but you knew where their allegiance would ultimately lie.
In losing Azriel, you would lose your family, too.
Sobs racked your body then, and Feyre held on tight, settling her cheek on the top of your head.
You thought of all the walls Azriel had broken down around your heart, all the promises he had made about love and forever. All the broken pieces of you that you had let him see, that he had helped you heal.
But it was all a lie.
You couldn't stop seeing it -- the woman, naked except for his shirt; Azriel, naked in her bed.
You wept and wept until there was absolutely nothing left of you.
---
A friend to all is a friend to none
Chase two girls, lose the one.
Azriel had come to the river house twice a day for the past three days.
Each time, Rhysand opened the door, molten hot rage in his eyes, and told him to leave, that you weren’t ready yet. Azriel couldn’t blame him.
He knew there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say to make it better. To make you better. He could try to explain what he had been feeling that night, but it wouldn’t matter, not really. It was all excuses, and he knew it.
Azriel had destroyed everything. And now he just had to watch as his world burned down.
Letting out a shuddering sigh, he knocked on Rhysand’s door, expecting to see his pissed off brother again, but it was Feyre who appeared.
He had never seen his High Lady look so disappointed. He hated that it was directed at him.
“How could you do it?” she said, crossing her arms, leaning against the doorway.
Azriel felt tears prickling his eyes, and willed them not to fall. “I never felt like I deserved her,” he said quietly.
“Well you definitely don’t now.”
He winced. “I know. I just -- I want to see her. How is she?”
Feyre furrowed her brow, furious. “How is she? She hasn’t left her room since she got here. Elain’s been forcing water down her throat so she doesn’t shrivel up and die, that’s how she is.”
Azriel swallowed, trying to steady his shaking hands. He felt like he was drowning. He wished he would, if it meant that it would make you stop feeling like that. “Do you think she’ll talk to me?”
She studied him, her mouth a hard, thin line. Finally, she turned, heading inside and he followed her, his knees wobbling.
When they made it to your door, she knocked softly, saying through the door, “He’s here.”
Azriel held his breath until the door opened, slowly.
And when he saw you, he couldn’t breathe. You looked… devastating. Your eyes were red and swollen, you were pale, your hair was a mess.
It was his fault. He had done this to you. He felt sick.
Your eyes were hollow when you looked at him, like you didn’t feel anything at all.
“Do you want me to stay?” Feyre asked you quietly.
You shook your head, your eyes darting away from Azriel. Feyre shot him a warning glare before she reluctantly went down the hallway.
You turned, moving to sit on the bed that looked like it hadn’t been made in days, every movement you made looking wary, exhausted. Destroyed. Your eyes were fixed on your hands in your lap, unwilling to look at him.
Azriel lingered just inside the room, feeling uncomfortable in his skin. He longed to hold you in his arms, to kiss your pain away.
He said your name, willing you to look at him. You flinched.
It felt like a punch to the gut. Azriel wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
“I am so, so sorry,” he rasped.
You shook your head, not looking up. “How could you do this, Az? How could you do this to me?” Your voice cracked when you said his name.
Tears started to fall down his own cheeks as he said, “I… don’t know. I wasn’t thinking. I saw you dancing with those males, looking so carefree, and I didn’t feel like I fit into that part of your life. I’ve always felt like you deserved someone better than me, someone… easier.”
Finally, you looked up at him, and he wished you hadn’t. Your eyes were full of fury. And hurt. He had never seen you like that before. “You cheated on me because I danced with some guys for two seconds?”
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Azriel tried.
“You think I wanted somebody like them? Somebody easier?”
Azriel opened his mouth, then closed it again. “I thought--”
“I wanted you,” you spat, and he recoiled at the hurt in your voice, at the pain in your eyes that he had put there. “All I ever wanted was you.”
He couldn't breathe. His voice came out weaker than he had ever heard it, “I'm sorry. It was a mistake, I'm a miserable, miserable fool. I want you. You're all I want.”
You laughed, but it was a hollow, bitter sound. “How can you even say that after what you did?”
“I know, you’re right,” he sighed, raking a scarred hand through his hair, his shadows dancing around his arms. “It doesn’t make sense, what I did. It was stupid and awful, and the worst thing that I’ve ever done, and I am so so sorry,” he said, taking a step forward, reaching his hand out to take yours.
“Don’t touch me,” you spat, wrenching your hand away.
He blinked, taking a step back, his heart in his throat.
“You said you loved me,” you said, your voice now barely a whisper, as if all your energy had been completely drained. “You said you wanted to be with me forever. Did you ever mean any of it?”
“Of course I did,” he said softly. “I still do. I love you. I want you.”
You sniffed, putting your head in your hands. “Well. You should’ve thought of that before you fucked her.”
He blanched at your tone, at your language. He didn’t think you’d ever said that word before, at least not around him.
“Please,” he said, his voice breaking, as he knelt down in front of you, trying to meet your eyes. “Please, what can I do? What can I do to fix this?”
Your eyes rose to meet his. You took in the sight, the shadowsinger kneeling before you, begging for your forgiveness. “You can’t fix it,” you said, seething. “You left me. You abandoned me at Rita’s. Do you have any idea how that felt? I thought something horrible had happened to you!”
Azriel tightened his jaw. He hadn’t known, hadn’t even thought about--
“And then to see you. With her. In her bed,” you broke off, looking at the ceiling, trying to keep the tears from falling, he knew.
“I’m sorry.” It was all he could say. His tears were flowing down his cheeks now and he hastily wiped them away, not wanting to take his eyes off you for fear that you would vanish.
After a long moment, you leveled your gaze on him again. “Would you have told me? If I wasn’t worried sick, if I had just gone home, and waited for you to stumble on in, would you have told me? Or would you just keep acting like everything was fine, knowing that you had just betrayed me?”
Azriel swallowed hard. He thought about the guilt he had felt immediately, how he was contemplating what the hell he was going to tell you as he was staring at that ceiling before Rhysand had knocked. “I would’ve told you,” he said, his voice husky. “I was going to tell you.”
You scoffed, shaking your head, looking anywhere but him. “I don’t even know why I asked. How can I trust anything you say?”
“I don’t know. But it’s true,” he said, shifting on his knees, wishing he could reach for your hand.
Hiding your face in your hands, you said, barely audibly, “I hate you. I hate you for doing this to me and making me feel like this.”
Azriel’s heart finally shattered completely. He knew he would never be able to put the pieces back together, as long as he lived. He had done this to you, his beautiful, bubbly, happy love. Reduced to this. To hating him. And he couldn’t even blame you.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. “I love you.”
“Stop saying that,” you cried.
“It’s true. It’s all I’ve got. I won’t try to make excuses, I’m just … I’m sorry. And I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.”
You sniffled, and took your hands away from your face, looking to the ceiling once again, like you were steeling yourself to say what you were about to. “I never want to see you again,” you said, weakly. “You can have the apartment. Elain and Nesta are packing my things right now.”
Azriel shook his head, his panic rising, “No, no, you don’t have to--”
“I do,” you cut him off. “It’s done, Az. We’re done,” you rose off the bed and went to the washroom, looking unsteady on your feet. “You can go now.”
You shut yourself in behind the closed door, and it was five hundred years of will and training that carried his legs out of the river house, and out of your life forever.
Azriel took to the sky, flying and flying, the wind biting at his skin, at his eyes. He kept picturing your heartbroken expression, the words you spoke to him.
He didn't stop flying until he made it to the depths of the Illyrian mountains, where he knew he would be well and truly alone.
Spotting a flat section nestled between several mountains, he landed in the snow, barely stopping long enough to punch the mountainside. It was stupid, he knew, he was more likely to break his hand than blow off any of this steam, but he had to do something to stop this pain, this panic, this despair that he could blame on nobody but himself.
He had lost you. He had lost the love of his life forever because he couldn't overcome his fears. He had been so scared that he wasn't good enough for you that he made sure that it was true.
Grunting, he punched the mountainside over and over again until his knuckles bled, and then he punched it some more. Tears froze on his cheeks, the wind chilling him to the bone.
Az was dimly aware of someone landing behind him, so hard it shook the ground beneath his feet. He kept punching.
“You're not going to solve your problems out here,” Cassian called to him.
Finally, Azriel halted, turning around to face his brother. “You know, we have better things to punch,” Cassian added.
Azriel scowled, sinking into the snow, exhausted.
Cassian strode over to him, plopping down a few feet away, hissing at the cold now sleeping through his pants. He studied Azriel, seemingly waiting for him to speak.
“She hates me,” Azriel whispered finally. “She said she never wants to see me again.”
Cassian sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Fuck.”
Azriel could only nod sadly.
“You know she didn't mean it. At least not the second part. She loves you.”
Sniffing, wiping at his eyes, Azriel groaned. “I don't know if she does anymore.”
“She does,” Cassian said quietly. “I know she does.”
After a beat of silence, Cassian asked, “What are you going to do?”
Azriel shrugged, watching his bloody hands start to heal. “Well. I could either hang around, keep apologizing, and piss her off more, or… leave her alone…”
“And piss her off more,” Cassian added.
A dry laugh escaped Azriel. “Exactly.”
Cassian was quiet for a moment, seemingly pondering how to help him.
“I’m not giving up on her,” Azriel finally said, with more conviction than he felt. “I just… I don't want to make it worse.”
“Az, I hate to tell you this, but I don't think it could get much worse,” Cassian said, grimacing.
Azriel just sighed, stretching out his wings behind him.
---
I knew I'd curse you for the longest time
Chasing shadows in the grocery line.
Seeing Azriel again, seeing him beg on his knees for your forgiveness, seeing how hollow his eyes looked, how his shadows were so unrelenting around him, had absolutely wrecked you.
It was another few days until you had the courage to leave the river house at all.
Azriel had come back to the river house several times, but you had your friends send him away. You couldn’t bear to see him again.
Feyre and Rhysand had checked on you frequently during your stay at their house, consoling you, cursing Azriel’s name right along with you. Rhys had even loaned you what you needed to get your own apartment, on the other side of Velaris from the one that you once shared with Azriel.
That part seemed to make it final, somehow. You could almost convince yourself it had all been a dream until you made your way to your new, empty apartment, without a trace of the love that used to be yours.
That empty apartment wrecked you all over again, and as you looked around it for the first time, your body folded in half, arms wrapping around your stomach as your body racked with sobs.
You had started to regret insisting that you do this part by yourself.
It was really over. Azriel really cheated on you and it was really done.
You knew it was time to start distancing yourself from Azriel’s family. They had undoubtedly been on your side this whole time, but even Rhysand and Feyre were starting to change their tune slightly. You know he loves you still. You know he’s a good male. You know he’s so sorry.
You understood where they were coming from, really, you did.
But that didn’t make it hurt less. What you needed was to hate him. It was the only way you could ever bring yourself to move on, to start living your life again.
You had been solemnly unpacking for a few hours when there was a knock on your door. You stiffened immediately. Rhysand and Feyre had said that they wouldn’t tell Azriel where you lived, but maybe he had figured it out?
“Relax sweetheart, it’s me,” Cassian said on the other side of the door, and you did relax, if only slightly. You hadn’t seen him since before this all started.
Reluctantly you let him in. He was sauntering, wearing that easy smirk he always donned. You couldn’t decide if it was comforting or annoying.
Cassian whistled as he looked around. “Nice place.”
You settled on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes softened as he walked closer to you, then perched next to you on the couch, not quite relaxed. “I wanted to check on you.”
“You can report back to Azriel that I’m just as pissed as ever,” you grumbled.
“He doesn’t know I’m here,” Cassian said quietly.
Skeptically, you turned to face him. You were sure he would be the most likely to take Azriel’s side.
After a moment, Cassian said, “If it’s any consolation, he hates himself probably about as much as you hate him right now.”
“I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse,” you admitted.
Cassian sighed, leaning back into the couch. “Did you mean it? That you never wanted to see him again?”
You shifted, hugging your knees to your chest. “In the moment I did. Thinking about seeing him now… it breaks me apart. But, thinking about the rest of my life completely without him…”
“That breaks you apart too?” Cassian offered.
You nodded, tears stinging your eyes.
“Okay, look,” Cassian said, turning so he fully faced you. “I’m going to tell you something. You’re my friend and he’s my brother, and I love you both, so I need you to know I’m not trying to convince you of anything, I am merely giving you information. Okay?”
“O-kay…”
He took a deep breath, seemingly gathering his thoughts, before he continued. “Azriel has always felt like he was inferior. The way he was raised… he carries that around more than a lot of people think. He often thinks that he isn’t good enough for people, but especially you.”
“How do you know?” You knew that Az still dealt with a lot from his childhood, but he wouldn’t often voice those things to you. He had mentioned something about not feeling good enough when you saw him, but you weren’t sure what to make of it.
“He mentioned it to me a few times, that he didn’t feel like he was the kind of person you should be with. You’re so bright and bubbly, he felt like you deserved somebody who was the same.”
You rested your cheek on your knee, trying to digest the information. “But… he must have known I never actually felt like that, right?”
Cassian shrugged. “On a good day, maybe. But deep down I think he always had it in the back of his mind: that fear that he wasn’t right for you.”
“He should’ve told me,” you said quietly.
“I agree. And I’m not saying that it excuses what he did, but that day…it was a hard one for him. What he had to do in the Court of Nightmares.”
Your stomach dropped. You hadn’t even thought about that.
“Well, he should’ve told me that too.”
Cassian nodded. “Yes. He should have.”
You groaned. “I hate this.”
“I know,” he said quietly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “I’m sorry.”
Cassian let you cry on his chest for a long moment before he said, “hH wants to come see you, you know. He doesn't want to give up on you.”
When you didn't respond, he said softly, “Just think about it.”
Days later, all that Cassian had said was still ringing in your ears, even as you walked through the market when it was the busiest.
Despite everything, it hurt your heart to think that Azriel had ever felt like he wasn't enough for you. And you were still so hurt at what he had done and what you had seen, but it at least made more sense now.
You hated this feeling of loneliness that followed you around wherever you went now, rooted so deeply in you that you were scared it would never go away.
Azriel had been so good to you for so long. Was one mistake really worth throwing everything away?
Every time you had the thought though, you remembered the sight of him in her bed and wanted to scream or cry or kick something.
Suddenly, as you were nearing the edge of the market, you swore you saw the wisp of a curling shadow out of the corner of your eye and stiffened. This hadn't been the first time that you thought you glimpsed Azriel's shadows or wings in public since it happened.
But, no this time it was real. And he saw you too.
You willed your feet to move, but they wouldn't. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, from this man who had loved and hurt you so completely.
Azriel approached you like you were an injured animal he was trying not to scare away. Your heart thundered in your chest.
“Hi,” he said in what you knew was his gentlest voice.
You couldn't bring yourself to speak. Still, after everything, you missed him. And seeing him now… it was too much to bear. Yet, too much to walk away.
“I'm sorry,” he said softly, his eyes swimming with pain and affection. His shadows were on full display, despite the fact that they usually shied away from the sun.
“You've already said that,” you murmured, still rooted to the spot.
“I know. And I'll keep saying it every chance I get. If I knew where you lived, I'd send you flowers or a book or dinner from that restaurant you love every day and I'd tell you I'm sorry and that I love you.” His voice was shaky in a way you had never heard from the shadowsinger.
“You would not,” you said, trying to sound angry but it just came out weak.
“Of course I would,” he said, risking a step closer to you. “I would do anything to take your pain away. You have to believe that.”
You did. You did believe that he meant it. But you didn't know if it would be enough.
For a moment you let yourself gaze at the man you once trusted with your whole heart. He looked thinner, like he hadn't been eating enough. His eyes were still hollow, dark bags beneath them. Even his wings drooped slightly. He might look even worse than you did.
And yet, you could still see the beautiful, sweet shadowsinger you had fallen in love with so long ago.
Finally you said quietly, “I'll tell Rhys he can give you my address.”
Those hazel eyes sparked with hope. And love. Definitely love.
---
The only thing I wanna do
Is make it up to you.
When you went out the next morning, there was a book left at your doorstep with a note attached.
It was the newest from one of your favorite authors. Your lips formed the tiniest smile.
The note read:
I couldn't start my groveling with something too cliche, so I went straight for your romance novels.
I've never told you this, but I always love when you tell me about the books you’re reading. Your entire face lights up when you do. And you know I love a fairytale ending.
I hope you have a good day today.
I'm so sorry for what I did. I'm so sorry for hurting you.
I love you so much. I always will.
-Az
You couldn't help but laugh a little by the time you got to the end. As if anybody else would be writing you this note.
The next morning when you stepped out your door, there was a pastry from your favorite cafe in a to-go bag. On the bag was a note:
I'm really hoping you'll find this in the morning so it's still good.
If not, you just come let me know and I'll drop everything to get you a fresh one.
I miss you.
My life is a nightmare without you.
I'm so sorry.
I love you.
-Az
And so it went. Every morning, rain or shine, Azriel would leave something that he knew you would love, with a note, always ending in some version of I'm sorry. I love you.
It did warm your heart that had turned so cold. The dedication alone was enough to prove to you that he really was sorry for what he did.
Yet, every time a note would make you laugh or cry so much that you wanted to run to his arms, you were always stopped by that image that plagued your mind. By the fact that he did what he did and no amount of little gifts would change it.
Months passed, and to Azriel's credit, the gifts, and more importantly the notes, kept coming. Your bedside drawer was completely full of them. And there may have been a night or two when you missed him so desperately that you would read them over and over again until your eyes burned and you had no choice but to cry yourself to sleep.
You would sometimes lay awake at night, picturing him coming up to your door. Several times you wanted to wait up for him, to listen for his footsteps, to pull him into your apartment, forget everything that happened and just be happy again.
But you never had the nerve. You were terrified of going through it all again.
Until one day, there was no gift at your door. No note. No sign of him anywhere.
Your heart plummeted. Had something happened to him? Was he hurt? Injured on some mission Rhysand sent him on?
Or had he finally given up on you?
It wasn't until that moment that you were willing to admit to yourself how much you had been relying on those notes, those little pieces of him.
You went through your day in a daze, devastated all over again.
It was early in the evening when there was a knock on your door. For a moment, you hoped it would be Azriel. You hadn't actually seen him for months. But you quickly realized it was more likely to be one of your friends, who still came by, despite what you had initially thought.
So, the breath was knocked completely out of you when it was indeed the shadowsinger waiting on the other side of the door.
His handsome face, his soft expression, on his face made you want to weep. You missed him so much.
Azriel smiled somewhat shyly as he gazed down at you, holding a paper bag in his hand. “I'm sorry it's late. Rhys has got me scouting out some things, and I didn't get back here until now. I brought dinner,” he said, holding it out to you.
You recognized it from your favorite restaurant. With shaking hands, you took it from him, spotting the note attached to the outside.
I'm sorry. I love you.
I'm sorry. I love you.
I'm sorry. I love you.
Over and over again it was repeated, taking up the entire paper. You placed it on a table inside before your gaze flicked back to him. He was watching you closely, his wings tucked in tightly behind him.
“I thought you gave up on me,” you whispered.
His timid smile fell. “Never,” he said softly. “I'll never give up on you. I love you so much.”
Tears brimmed your eyes and all of a sudden, you knew you couldn't take it anymore. You didn't want to hate him, you didn't want to dwell on the one awful thing that he had done. You had a drawer full of wonderful things that he had done.
“I love you, too,” you murmured, the tears spilling freely down your cheeks now.
A sound that sounded distinctly like a sob escaped Azriel, and he wrapped his arms around you, crushing you into his chest. “I never thought I'd hear you say that again,” he sniffed, his hand cupping the back of your head, kissing your temple.
After a long moment, he took your face in his hands, gazing at you for a moment before he slowly kissed your tears away. You laughed lightly and he smiled, leaning in to kiss you so softly, like he was afraid you would break.
“I love you,” he murmured against your mouth. “I love you so much.”
You pulled back long enough to gently brush his tears away. “No more secrets. If you're struggling with something, you need to tell me.”
“I know. I'm sorry. No more secrets.”
“And nobody else. Ever.”
He winced. “I'm so sorry, love.”
“I know you are,” you said softly, cupping his cheek in your hand.
“Thank you,” he murmured. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
You rose to your tiptoes to kiss him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
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|| good morning something cute, River getting shadows just like his dad 🥺 [AS!reader masterlist]
|| warnings: nothing, fluff, proud dad!Azriel
It's not uncommon to hear his children laughing. Azriel welcomes it, the sound making warmth bloom in his chest every time he hears it — a reminder of the happiness he's finally found, the family that he's made with you.
So when he hears River giggling, he doesn't think much of it. Undoubtedly the little three year-old is playing with his twin — but when he finds Ivy busy attempting to stay still long enough for Aria to braid her hair, his confusion grows.
Until he finds him. River has his back to him in your bedroom, little shoulders shaking with mirth as he stifles yet another round of giggling and then turns as Azriel approaches. "Daddy!"
"Hey," Azriel greets, "what's so funny?"
River's eyes are round and bright. "They tickle," he tells his father, and it's then that Azriel notices the shadows wound around his son's arms.
At first, he thinks they're his — but these aren't as vivid as his, nor as strong. And then it hits him — these are River's. His son has inherited his shadowsinger abilities, and Azriel isn't sure if he's more proud or terrified.
"Daddy?" River pulls him out of his thoughts to find the tiny half-Illyrian boy watching him, bottom lip wobbling. "You mad?"
"No," Azriel hurries to reassure him, scooping the toddler into his arms and cradling him to his chest. "No, River. I'm not mad."
River tucks his face against his neck. "'m like daddy," he murmurs, and Azriel's chest aches with a mixture of pride and worry.
"Yeah," he answers quietly. "You're just like me."