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Summary: When Azriel is injured during the war with Hybern, will your healing abilities be enough to save him?
Warnings: blood, injured az, needles, detailed medical treatment (let me know if I missed anything!), Painfully inaccurate to the original storyline
a/n: this is my first fic! I would love feedback and let me know if you’d love to hear more! This could be part of an ongoing universe where Y/N is Cassian’s twin sister and a healer.
The sound of the heavy cloth covering the entrance to the medical tent being whipped open caught your immediate attention. Your head jolted up from the wound you were currently cleaning from a warrior. Blood and dirt had oozed from his leg, but you had managed to hold pressure long enough to staunch the bleeding. Now, as you sewed the ends of his skin back together, your eyes darted around the tent, looking for whomever it was that entered in such a panicked hurry.
You saw Rhys at the entrance, looking around wildly for something, or maybe someone. When his wild eyes met yours and stayed there, your heart skipped a beat, knowing it was your worst nightmare coming to life.
You quickly handed your stitching task to one of your healers. “Finish for me, Jessina,” you asked, before rushing to Rhys’ side. There was only one reason he would be in the medical tent.
“Who is it?” You asked hesitantly, afraid of what his answer might be. When Rhys didn’t immediately respond, you knew it must be bad. “Cassian? Feyre? Please, Rhys, say something.” You avoided saying the one name you feared most out loud, as if merely saying it would make it true.
But Rhys shook his head and you knew your silent prayer for your mate would go unanswered.
“Y/N,” Rhys began, gripping your wrists, “it’s not good. Cassian is trying to get him out.”
“How bad is it?” You whispered, afraid your voice would give out.
You felt sharp talons scraping at your mental shield, which you lowered just enough for Rhys to slither through. Immediately, a scene played for you in your mind, consuming all your senses. You knew you were watching Rhys’ memory.
Azriel flew with the large Illyrian legion above him, their great wings sounding in unison like the beat of a war drum. Headed straight for the group of winged Hybern enemies, the two armies collided in a tangle of swords and wings and limbs. Rhys watched as warriors from both sides suffered injuries, but it wasn’t until a certain Shadowsinger caught the wrong end of a Hybern sword that he faced a fate of plummeting hundreds of feet to the hard ground below him. Faster and faster Azriel fell, twisting in the air with the Hybern enemy he refused to untangle himself with, clearly vowing to take down whoever he could with him. As the couple dropped closer and closer to the ground, Rhys knew the fall alone would kill his Spymaster. At the last moment, Rhys flung out his power, hoping it would create at least some type of force field between Azriel and the ground before he hit the dirt with a sickening thud, and moved no more. Rhys, too far away to make it to his brother in time, immediately called out to Cassian’s mind to retrieve him and ran to the medical tent to alert the best healer he knew.
The vision ended with Rhys slithering quickly out of your mind. “Oh gods,” you whispered, a hand flying to your mouth in disbelief. Immediately you opened your end of the bond and were met with a severe onslaught of pain, agony, and fear. The force of the emotions hit you like a tidal wave, and would have forced you to your knees if Rhys wasn’t there to steady you. It wasn’t until you closed your side of the bond again that you were able to breathe and think normally, instead of being all-consumed by the pain.
“Incoming, Y/N,” Rhys warned, and almost immediately the tent flaps whipped open again, revealing a wild eyed Cassian and a writhing, screaming Azriel in his arms. Blood covered the Shadowsinger and Cassian, dripping steadily to the floor where they stood. Feyre, Mor, and Nesta pushed through the tent flaps behind Cassian, effectively crowding your tiny medical space.
Every instinct told you to reach out for your mate, to fall at his feet and beg anyone, anything, to save him. But you forced yourself to take one look at a sobbing Azriel, and you turned away, screaming for Madja.
“Get the surgical supplies ready!” You screamed as you raced for the metal table in the back of the medical tent. Reserved only for emergent needs, the metal table was hidden behind a large white sheet to hide the horrors that happened there from the other onlooking wounded.
You turned back to your mate, thankful that Cassian had the sense to follow you. “Put him there,” you ordered, pointing to the metal table. “Gently Cassian, on his back. Watch his wings!” You closed your eyes as Cassian settled his brother on the table. The innate part of you that felt the panic rising in fear for your mate’s life had to be pushed down. You felt it coming in waves, but forced yourself to keep it contained. You knew that if you let your instincts get ahead of you, then it was a death sentence for you mate.
The sharp talons scraped again, and you let Rhys in fully this time, allowing him to speak to you.
“He needs you, Y/N. You can do this,” Rhys whispered into your mind. You sent your gratitude to him mind-to-mind, and allowed him to stay inside your metal shields as a form of comfort and communication for what lay ahead.
When you opened your eyes again, Madja was at your side, setting up the supplies you might need. Digging deep into your power, you reached a hand out to Azriel, who lay on the table writhing in agony, blood quickly pooling around him and dripping off the cold metal table to the floor below. When you touched your hand to his chest, you let out a full blast of your power, giving him a jolt of pain as he felt it singe all of his senses. He cried out as your power raced through his body to assess for wounds and injuries.
The information relayed back to you was horrifying. Multiple cuts and bruising littered Azriels skin, including a deep laceration to his scalp, which was the source of most of his bleeding. Thankfully, the head injury seemed to be only skin deep, preserving his skull and brain from damage.
The same couldn’t be said for his left hip and leg, which lay at an odd angle from the multiple fractures beneath the skin. His hip, completely dislocated, and lower leg were broken into multiple pieces. A dislocated right shoulder and a few cracked ribs were the extent of the injuries on the right side of his body. His wings were badly damaged from the fall, with snapped bones and holes in the delicate membrane, but they would have to be fixed last. You could only rightly assume he had fallen to the ground and landed on his left side, because most importantly was the multitude of broken ribs on his left flank, two of which were folded inward, puncturing and deflating his left lung completely.
Rhys, who has been quietly sitting at the back of your mind, accidentally let a blast of his own terror into your mind as he felt your power relay the information back to you. You immediately caught eyes with the High Lord, and from your shared mind, you knew he was thinking the same thing you were.
The broken ribs and punctured lung was the same injury that killed his father when you failed to save him during the first war with Hybern.
“Things have changed since then,” Rhys reassured you. You kept your eyes locked as you silently communicated, pushing the rising nausea back down deep into your belly. “You’re the best healer in all the courts. If anyone has will save him, it will be you.”
“Y/N!” Nesta shouted from beside you, pulling your attention away from your silent conversation and back to reality. “He’s losing a lot of blood, you need to do something!”
“I can’t move,” Azriel gasped between sobs of pain. “I can’t move!”
You realized with a quick jerk of your arm back that you had kept your hand on his chest while conversing with Rhys, accidentally paralyzing him in the process as your power rippled over him. Now that you had removed your hand, he began thrashing again.
With a quick flick of your wrist, the bleeding from Azriel’s scalp stopped, the capillaries fused shut. “Head wounds bleed a lot, but that’s not his problem,” you said to no one in particular as you turned to look at Madja. “It’s his lung. It’s like before.”
Madja, who had been with you at the time of the previous High Lord’s death, immediately understood. “Get ready to turn him,” she said, turning her attention to Cassian and giving him instructions.
“His legs,” you said, reaching for his shattered hip. “I need to stabilize them before we move him or he may never walk again.”
A deep, pained groan left Azriel’s mouth as you ran your hand along his legs, purposefully paralyzing them this time. Forcing the bones straight, the once stoic shadow singer let out a gasp of agony as the bones ground against one another.
“You will walk again, brother,” you heard Cassian whisper, as he prepared to follow Madja’s instructions to turn him.
“You’ll have to keep him still, Cassian,” you warned your twin, “I’ll have to cut him open.”
With a quick nod and a count to three, Madja and Cassian log rolled Azriel onto his right side and positioned him to give unrestricted access to his left flank. The fighting leathers were easily cut away from his body under Madja’s expert tools. Whispering a quick spell under your breath, you felt your hands clean and sterilize themselves in preparation for the first cuts.
“Put him to sleep, Rhys,” you said out loud. The High Lord quickly approached the table and put his hands around Azriel’s head, trying to break into his mind to effectively knock him out.
When a few moments went by and Azriel was still gasping in pain and cursing under his breath, you began to worry.
“What’s going on?” You asked Rhys in your head.
“His shields,” he responded out loud, “he’s too high strung to relax long enough for me to break through. They’re ironclad.”
The rising panic threatened to overwhelm you as you faced the impending reality of having to cut through your mate’s skin to his lung while he was awake.
“You have to do it,” Madja said, confirming your worst nightmare. “We can only hope he’ll pass out from the pain.” Her arm extended toward you, scalpel in her hand for you to take.
Please pass out, please pass out, please pass out, became your internal mantra as you took the blade from Madja. Taking a deep breath, you lined it up with Azriel’s tanned skin. “I’m sorry, Az,” you whispered as the blade sliced through skin and muscle and tissue, eliciting screams of pain from your mate that echoed through the medical tent.
“Keep him still, Cassian,” you ordered as you continued to cut through to Azriel’s lung. He was still conscious, beads of sweat dripping from Rhys brow as he attempted to break through his mental shields.
When you had successfully reached the damaged lung, you extended an arm into Azriel’s body, spreading your powers through him again, concentrating on that particular area. When your powers shot through his body this time, he flinched again, nearly falling off the table to the ground.
“Damnit, Cassian!” You shouted. “Keep him still or I’m going to kill him! I’m elbow deep in his body! What’s going on, Rhys?”
“I can’t get through!” He responded, fear lacing his words and working its way into your mind. You pushed him out of your head, reestablishing your own mental shields. You had enough of your own fear, you didn’t need someone else’s in your mind as well.
You made eye contact with Feyre from across the room. Panic danced in her eyes but she opened her mind to you immediately when you made eye contact.
You send an image into her head of a small box hidden well in yours and Azriels shared tent. “Bring it to me,” you commanded. Within seconds, she was gone.
You continued to work on Azriel’s wound, using your powers to close the wound and reinflate the lung. With the wound still deep and oozing blood continuously, Madja handed you the supplies to stitch the lung closed. All the while, Azriel fought Cassian on the table, awake and writing in pain.
You sensed Feyre’s arrival back into the tent and at your side the moment she returned. Madja recognized the box and nodded her head in agreement. Without taking your eyes off your work, you instructed Feyre with the next steps.
“Take the needle out and draw up the clear liquid in the red vial. It’s an extremely strong pain tonic. I save it for emergency cases, and it’s incredibly potent.”
Feyre did as instructed and drew the liquid into the syringe. You pulled one hand out of Azriels chest and pointed to a spot along his left shoulder muscle. “Stab the needle there, and make it deep. Inject the tonic there.”
Feyre hesitated, her hands shaking the needle she held. “I’m not like you, Y/N, I can’t do something like that.”
You finally looked up at your High Lady and caught her eye. You briefly let your instinct take over and let the panic be heard in your voice as it cracked. “Please, Feyre,” you begged. “Please, I can’t lose him.”
With another cry of agony from Azriel, she eyed the spot you had marked with a bloody finger on his shoulder and plunged the syringe in deep, pushing the pain tonic into his muscle.
Within seconds, Azriel’s body laid limp underneath you, his screams of pain cut off and erratic breathing stopped. You felt your own heart stop in your chest as you feared the worst had happened. If your hands weren’t inside his chest so close to his beating heart, you would have thought it had stopped all together.
“It’s just me!” Rhys shouted, sensing the panic from everyone in the room. “The medication relaxed him enough for me to shatter his shield. I knocked him out.”
Relief flooded you and you returned to Azriel’s chest to finish your work, praying you had learned enough in the last 350 years to save him.
Summary: Reader is forced into an arranged marriage, and when the day of union comes it is interrupted by two familiar Illyrian warriors.
Warnings: Toxic relationship with parents | forced marriage | Azriel threatens a life | but pretty much all fluff <33
2.4k words.
My white dress hung heavy on my shoulders, my corset too tight, my heels already making my feet ache.
The plastered smile on my face hurt my cheeks, and the thorns in my bouquet prickled my sweaty palms. I released a shaky breath as the music of the string quartet began to play, an unmistakable tune meant for happy brides ready to walk down the aisle.
Which is what I was supposed to be, happy, ready. Heads turned in my direction and my back straightened, my brows creasing the slightest fraction.
My husband-to-be waited at the end of the walkway, his smile broad and malicious. My stomach churned.
I didn't want to be here, here on this beach getting married to some guy twenty years older all for an alliance my parents forced me into. My self-sovereignty for what? For a few pieces of gold and a minor title?
I took a steadying breath and began walking forward, keeping in rhythm to the strum of the music. The groom reached his hand out towards me, my own shook as I took it and he pulled me the rest of the way to the altar.
The officiant began the reading from his script, and with it, my ears began to ring, I tuned the priest out and my eyes fluttered closed. My fiancé's hands squeezed mine, not in a comforting manner, but a warning. I snapped my head up and looked at the officiant, I blinked at him with creased brows.
"Do you, take Rhen Talor to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish till death do you part?" He repeated each word adding another pound of weight to my shoulders.
"I—" I look between the oblivious officiant and the groom, Rhen, to my parents who were watching with narrowed eyes. "I..." I wanted to say yes, I was going to say yes, but the pounding in my heart could be heard in my ears and I got the sneaking suspicion that I was about to vomit all over my white gown.
An unnatural wind blew my hair back as if nature itself was beckoning me to step away, to run.
I looked in the direction of the wind, my hands slipping from Rhen's as I spotted two towering, familiar winged figures in the distance and I realized the pounding in my ears was the beat of their wings.
The crowd murmurs at the intrusion as the two Illyrians casually stroll towards us, arrogance and power in each step.
"Excuse me for a moment," I say, gathering my skirts in my hands and rushing over to the two males as fast as I can in my heels that seemed determined to get stuck in the sand.
"What in the seven hells are you two doing here?" I seethe, looking at the fae warriors who were smiling at me with wicked amusement. Some part of me relaxed to feel anything besides fear and nausea, even if it was anger taking over.
"We're here to save you, what else?" The shadow singer arches a brow, dark shadows swirling up the pure white of my dress.
"I don't need anyone's saving, especially not two Carynthian warriors," I argue and Cassian snorts, taking in my appearance.
"I only came along because Az promised there'd be a buffet," The lord of bloodshed shrugged.
"Not for— this is wildly inappropriate, even for the two of you." I groaned but Cassian only continued walking, towards the guests that were scrambling away from the sight of his seven siphons. Leaving me and Azriel, our words drowned out by the crashing of the waves.
"You're too late. I already said I do," I cross my arms over my chest.
"Liar," He narrows his hazel eyes on me. "You know better than to try and fool me, Love, I could feel you tugging at the bond, you were in distress," Azriel took a dangerous step forward and I sucked in a sharp breath at the mention of the bond, not accepted but not rejected either. A bridge between us that I both refused to sever and to walk across.
H grabbed my hand that was prickled with the thorns of my bouquet, shadows soothed over my palm, relieving the sting of my minor wounds. "You shouldn't be here," I frowned but his smile remained.
"No, probably not, but I can't let you marry him," He said, his voice brooking no room for argument, ever the cool and collected male.
“Go home, Azriel,” I speak quietly, but not weakly.
“Come with me.” He matches my tone, his scarred fingers intertwining with my manicured ones and the sensation was so different than the feeling of Rhen’s grip. "Why did your parents arrange this? What are they gaining from this union?" He asked, voice slightly stiff at the idea of selling me off for their own personal achievement.
"Money, the Talor's have a small title and crop of land, it'd be enough to last us a few centuries,” I shrug. I loved my parents, despite their twisted and corrupt ways, I loved them because they fed and raised me, I loved them because they put clothes on my back and told me bedtime stories. I never assumed I’d have to pay them back, not this way, at least.
"I'll give you every cent to my name if that's the price of my mate's freedom, if money is what they want, they can take mine." The shadow singer stated, his words certain that it made me realize that I’ve never been as sure about anything as he was about this.
"I can't ask you to do that." I shake my head, slipping my fingers from his, knowing the lingering guests were watching.
"You don't have to, I want you to be happy, let me buy you then set you free." He implored, allowing my hand to fall to my side only because he moved to cup my cheek. "And if I'm lucky you'll fall in love with me along the way." He shrugged with a smirk of pure fae male arrogance.
"Az," I deadpan, the words half a growl.
"I'm not asking you to marry me, I'm asking you not to marry him." His eyes flick back to the male watching with furious eyes from the archway. "If you tell me to I’ll leave, and you can walk down that aisle again— but let's not kid ourselves, you never wanted this, never wanted him,” His hand on my face made me melt slightly, and he was right, despite wanting to pay my mother and father back, this is nowhere near anything I wanted.
I swallowed thickly, weighing the options. If I married Rhen my parents would be happy and this would all be water under the bridge— but I’d suffer a life of being both a housewife and broodmare with a male who did not truly love me.
If I went with Azriel my parents would likely attempt to cleave us, unless Azriel paid them as he said he would, as long as gold was placed in their hands I doubted they’d have much argument— and I could be free to choose what I wanted with my life, I could accept my mating bond.
"But where will I go? What will I do?" I ask, my mind filled with questions that could only be answered by my future self.
"It's entirely up to you, you can live with me, or you can move to another court, whatever you choose. You'd be free." He stresses and my mouth gapes open, then closes. I look to the waves crashing against the shore only a few yards away, shouting at me to flee, to go with him.
All of it was too good to be true, Azriel coming to be my savior with this plan. It couldn’t be real and I needed him to punch me so I could wake up from this dream.
"Though I'd prefer if you stayed close, it's painful having you so far even right now— and you're only a city away, I can’t imagine a whole court,” He added and I looked back to him, a small smile pulling at the corners of my lips.
"I haven't even accepted the bond yet and you're already desperate." I tease.
"Yet?" He arched a scarred brow.
I flush a soft hue and avert my eyes again, this time settling them on the approaching figure that formed a knot of anxiety in my stomach.
"You're out of line, get your hands off my bride you bastard." Rhen spat and I flinched at the way he cursed the word, Azriel didn’t so much as shift, in fact, I could’ve sworn there was a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Out of line? No, I'm exactly where I should be, you're the one that's in my way." The shadow singer smoothly replied, Rhen snarled at his retort and grabbed me just above my elbow, his grip as tight and immovable as iron.
"Don't touch me." I gritted out, tugging at my arm but he didn’t budge and simply pulled me back towards where the officiant stood, uneasy on his feet.
"Come on, be a good little wife, and finish the damned ceremony," Rhen growled, and before I could take even another step towards the archway my fiancé halted, freezing in his footsteps as shadows wrapped around his limbs, his neck, encasing his body and shoving into his open mouth, restricting him of oxygen.
"She told you not to touch her Talor, so I'd highly suggest you let go or you won't have a hand anymore." The Spy Master’s voice was death incarnate, I had never heard anything so paralyzing in all my immortal life. It chilled me down to my very bone, and I thought that I might be carrion if I was ever on the receiving end of my mate's deathly stare.
Rhen’s hand releases me if only to grasp at his own throat, silently pleading with his eyes to have mercy.
The shadows released him and Rhen was sent running, sprinting as fast as he could away from the male that stood before me, now looking at me with an incredulous grin. Insane, he must’ve been insane— and I must’ve been too, to be so in love with that smile and the dimples that came along with it.
"You were seriously going to marry him?” He scoffed, hand coming to my arm and inspecting the area Rhen held me for any injury.
"Well, it wasn't really my choice," I grumble under my breath as Azriel lets go of my arm with a gentleness that rivaled his vicious exterior that occurred only moments ago.
Azriel’s eyes flicked over to the few remaining guests and I turned in the direction he stared, at my parents who were staring with both helplessness and fury in their eyes.
"Me and Cass will deal with them later, let's get you out of here, alright?" He tugged at the tether between us and my head whips back to him.
“Okay,” I nod and reach out, my hand finding his. His eyes soften as he pulls me into him, wrapping a wing around me and cocooning us in darkness before he utilizes his shadows to pull us into another realm entirely, it was only a brief moment of darkness and an empty void before my heels were on a hardwood floor and the sweet citrusy smell of Velaris flowed through my nose.
"We left Cass," I say, glancing around to find the second Illyrian nowhere to be found.
"He was in the midst of stuffing his face with bread rolls, I think he'll be just fine." Azriel half scoffed, half chuckled. He pulled away but before he could completely slip from my grasp my hand tightened on his and his brows lifted a fraction, eyes lighting with intrigue.
"Thank you." Is all I can manage to say.
"Don't thank me." He shakes his head. "I should have gotten you out of there far sooner." He spoke as if he was more dissatisfied with himself than anyone else.
"But still, when it mattered you came for me," I utter, taking a cautious step forward.
"You're my mate, even if you haven't accepted the bond, it's my duty to keep you safe— you shouldn't have even been out of my sights," He says, his voice soft as he looks down at me, hand squeezing mine.
"I wasn't, not really." I hum, gesturing down to the shadow that swirled around my ankle, the one that would always remain there.
He smiles at the thought, then says, "You look beautiful, by the way." His eyes flick down to my white gown and I follow his gaze, smiling softly at the dress, it had been the only thing that was my decision in this entire endeavor.
"I only wish that it was your choice to put that dress on, this morning," He added, as if reading my mind, and for a moment I wondered if the mating bond allowed him to see how I felt.
"It will be, one day," I nod confidently and his brows raise with insinuation. A gentle smile blooms across my lips and I cup his sharp jaw. “But for now, baby steps,” I suggest rising up onto my toes, leaning closer, placing a kiss on his adjacent cheek.
When I pulled back he was beet red and I giggled at the sight, it was a wonder that this male, who flushed at a chaste peck on the cheek, was also one of the most feared in Prythian.
“Right,” he swallowed down the lump in his throat, his hand only a phantom at my waist, hovering. "I'll have money sent to your parents by Dawn." He says, then quickly adds, “Even if they don’t deserve it.”
I smile brightly and pull away. “Thank you, Az,” I murmur.
“Anything, for you.” He confessed, and I knew he meant it. I smiled, thinking that in the morning I might reward him with some breakfast, in turn, accepted that golden tether between us and finally allowed myself to be happy, with a mate.
The Ewriel's trying to convince themselves that this (💖🎶💖) is synonymous with Elriel, even though SJM has already confirmed that we'll see Azriel singing and we literally have Gwyn like this, standing out from the other priestesses.
https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSuR32xuH/
My apologies for any errors in the book excerpts. I simply used the image in a translator because my books are in Portuguese.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
the world needs more azriel fanfiction in it… as a professional azriel dickrider, i feel like it’s my duty to contribute to the chaos! :3 can yall drop some prompts in the comments or my ask box? (im still figuring it out im new to publishing!) thank yew!!
A/N: Am I supposed to be doing work? Yes. Am I doing said work? No. Due tomorrow, Do tomorrow. Don't do what I'm doing if you have work due go do it before it piles up and overwhelms you.
Summary: In which your girlfriends plan how they will finally get you and Azriel to confess to each other after weeks of getting they're ears talked off by the both of you pining over each other and agonizing over asking the other out for valentine's day. And what better day to do it than on the day itself?
Request: Nope.
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: This might make you feel even more single to begin with.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
"No," You said flatly, shaking your head to emphasise the word you had just uttered.
The three women around you seemed to visibly deflate like balloons over your words. All whom had been trying desperately to convince you to confess to your crush of...two hundred years. One would think you would have gotten over him by now, but apparently not, you were still knee deep into the crush that had started your endless pining and gushing over the shadow singer since you had first joined the court through Morrigan when she rescued you from your family.
She had seen value in your ability to manipulate the stars just like how her cousin manipulated night. While swirls of shadows surrounded him, the stars sang to you and told you the dreams of those around you, their worst and best deeds, their greatest successes and their worst fears.
And when the stars sang, you listened.
"And what do the stars tell you about valentine's day?" Mor prompted you gently. Sighing, you reminded her of the limitations of your powers, "You know that I choose not to listen to my own future, it makes me live in anxiety about the next thing that is going to happen, sometimes knowing everything is not great. I'd rather live in the mystery than the anxiety of knowing."
Nodding, she glanced at Nesta and Feyre, the two females shrugging. They were at a lost for words, they could not say anything to tell you about Azriel's feelings without sacrificing the privacy of the shadow singer. Truth to be told they only knew about it because Rhysand never kept anything from Feyre, while Cassian of course could not hold back his excitement that his friend finally liked a female that was not completely unavailable and babbled to Nesta. However, telling your mate is one thing, completely exposing the shadow singer's secret to the one person he definitely wanted to keep the secret from was another.
Before you had arrived for the weekly tea party that you all hosted, excluding Elain who often preferred to stay in with her mate and be updated on any tea later by watching for herself instead of actively being involved, you all welcomed her even if she was not a common sight at these get togethers. "Perhaps, you should consider that maybe being rejected by Azriel will finally allow you to move on, you have been pining for two centuries, maybe it's about time?" Feyre tried.
Shaking your head once more, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes, groaning at the prospect of ruining the close friendship you had forged with the shadow singer by confessing to him on valentine's day of all days. Maybe you were overthinking it, but you would rather live in your crush and suffer than ruin the good and close friendship you had.
The idea of finally getting together with the shadow singer baffled you but it was a dream come true. Truth to be told, you had had dreams about it before, and even begun to crave the comfort Azriel provided you in your darkest moments in the roughest nights. In times you wondered whether you should cut to the chase but you were scared of the repercussions.
"Come on, girl, you have to bite the bullet, be brave. You have to be confident enough to get rejected. And eventually you'll move and you can be friends with Azriel after he rejects you. Agonizing over this for so long is not worth it," Nesta reasoned. Considering her words, you sighed, "Fine." The females around you brightened. "But, I will only do it through a letter, and he has to confess to me also if he actually accepts. If he rejects it promise me you'll take me to the cabin to mope." They all eagerly nodded, and just like that, they began to set their plan in motion.
⋆༺𓆩☠︎︎𓆪༻⋆
Dearest Dear Azriel,
I am writing this letter. Hi. How are you? Today is valentine's day and you must be wondering why you are receiving this letter from me. I confess that I was coerced into doing this by Nesta, Feyre and Morrigan, but do not doubt that my words are not sincere. I love like you. I have liked you for a while and will continue to do so even if you reject my feelings until the day I can find the strength in me to truly move on. For two centuries I have found myself drawn to your quiet demeanor and I have found myself craving the quiet nights we spend together when we seek the other's comfort. I do hope that you will accept my feelings, but if you feel as though you cannot reciprocate, do not worry, I will do my best to move on from this and we can continue to remain just friends.
Yours Sincerely,
Y/N
Finishing off with your name, you looked down at the letter that you wrote, going over it two more times before finally folding it. Just as the letter disappeared from your hands, probably reappearing in front of the shadow singer, another letter appeared in front of you that you recognised the paper was only one Azriel used, the scent of paper and ink still clung to it along with the musky scent of steel and the night sky that could only be described as Azriel.
Opening thee letter gently, you read.
My lovely star,
I should have written this so much sooner, but it was my brothers who finally gave me the courage to speak out the feelings I feared. I adore you. Every inch of you I crave, in every night you seek my comfort I want nothing more than to take your pain and make it mine. Every time I see you smile I curse under my breath when the reason for your smile is not me. I find joy in your laughter, it's melody often playing on repeat at the back of my mind. Even when I'm away I feel close to you because I spend every waking moment wondering what you and doing and every dream seems to chase away the nightmares when I dream of you. If you will allow me, I wish to be your forever. I love you with all my heart and my soul.
Yours, now and forever,
Azriel A.K.A Asshole, Brute, Bat, Illyrian prick
(P.S. I think my shadows like you more than me, because everytime you're near they seem to stray away from me to lay at your feet. You are breath taking, my star)
Holding in your breath, you felt as if you were dreaming, and as Azriel's scent seemed to suddenly flood your senses, you turned to the doors just as a knock came, slowly approaching it, behind was Azriel holding the letter you wrote, his grin wide and his eyes bright.
"Do you mean it, Sweetheart?" He asked, "Will you be mine?" Even as you nodded his eyes held a silent command to hear your voice, to hear the words he had craved for for so long. "I want to be your Azriel, I want you to be mine, I have loved you for so long," And as he swept you off your feet, the door closing behind the both of you as his lips crashed into yours, he pulled apart to only say, "I've been yours for longer than you could ever imagine, little star, even when I have faded from this world, even when we join our ancestors in the sky, even when we become the stars that sing, I will always be yours."
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"Guess I'll have to cancel galentines," You whispered softly to Azriel, peaking at his face that stretched into a soft grin, his arms snaking around your waist even as you lay quite literally on top of him, your elbows leaning onto his chest.
"Didn't the rest of the inner circle always have their own Valentine's while you went shopping, me tailing behind you?" You laughed, replying, "Well I did like this one male, he was super sweet and was always there for me but I never dared ask him to be my Valentine," His eye brows quirked at your words, his smile becoming wider as he asked, "And what happened to the male?" you considered for a moment before grinning mischievously.
"Well, now he's mine."
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A/N: No way, she wrote something with no angst for once??? A full fic that didn't have angst???? crazy. She must have been brain washed or something, that's insane. Don't worry my loves, angst is coming I just wanted to be nice for once during valentines <33 For all us single girls let's have a happy galentine's day and enjoy our girl dinners, AKA whichever fictional man/men we decide to simp for. Happy Valentine's day, see you all next time. MWAH.
Taglist: Please tell me if you want to be tagged in future Azriel's fics!!
