Will You Do A Character Chat With Fwb Az Like Plug Az 🥹 Asking For A Friend 🫣🫣

Ai AZ is testing my patience istg, he asks so many questions like I just said 'oh' and the mf launched into a whole ass interrogation 👹

baby boy can’t let go of those spymaster tendencies even in the modern world LMAOOO

what if you released part 2 of Smoke and Light early as a birthday treat for me 👉🏾🥹👈🏾

I mean it’s Easter Sunday….. but it’s also 4/20 so perhaps I will just post tonight instead 😵‍💫

Bestieeee I’m zooted and have modern Az ideas to share when you’re ready 🤓

GIRL THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX FOR A WEEK I AM SO SORRY PLS GET ZOOTED AGAIN AND TELL ME YOUR IDEAS I AM READY

youre literally like gwyn to me now 😦

pls tell me ur fiance looks like az

stop haha my friends say i’m the ginger character in anything they read or watch. one friend told me i remind her of willa from elsie silver’s heartless bc she’s ginger haha

he doesn’t look anything like az lmaoooo but he does look oddly similar to charlie hunnam HAHAH

me @ az and elain

Fated Souls

Warnings: Angst, Light Smut, 18+

***

You observed the celebration around you, watching your friends as they interacted with one another. You brought your wine glass to your lips, taking another slow sip. You had chosen to stick to the edges of the room for this gathering. It was easier that way. You didn’t have to pretend that your heart wasn’t being tortured with every beat it made.

Truthfully, you’d lost count of what glass of wine this was. You enjoyed the way the edges of the room blurred the more you drank, allowing you to pretend it’s all a horrid nightmare instead of your devastating reality.

Until your eyes caught upon them once again. You scowled, tipping your head back as you emptied your drink. Your eyes narrowed as you watched him smile down at her, his hand itching to hold onto her waist. She looked at him with such adoration that you’d have to be brainless to miss it. Everyone knew about the Shadowsinger and middle Archeron sister. You could argue that they turned a blind eye because they wished to see the pair happy, if it weren’t for the fact that their mates were just as widely known.

You rolled your eyes as she let out a soft laugh, placing a hand on the chest of the male that was supposed to be fated to you. Not that he cared. You were tired of this, the constant pining for someone who would never want you. Growing sick of their love-show, you slipped quietly from the room. No one noticed, or if they did they didn’t care. You had become quite a depressing specimen since Elain entered your life.

And since the mating bond snapped to Azriel, who only had eyes for her. Your friends did not know how to speak to you these days, always teetering in awkward conversation. They looked at you as if they stared too close you’d shatter into a thousand pieces. You were fragile, breakable.

It wasn’t always that way. Before this you were one of the fiercest warriors the Night Court had. You held your own against Cassian, earning a place of honor as his right hand. You were a force to be reckoned with. “The Lovely Demon” they called you, whispers of your power and beauty flitting throughout all of Prythian. It made sense for you to be fated to Azriel, the devilishly handsome spymaster. Together you were a death sentence.

A death sentence indeed. You moved throughout the halls, searching for the only one who understood your pain. You were pleased when you found him alone on one of the countless balconies in the House of Wind, leaning over the railing with his own drink in hand. You walked out to him, your heels clicking softy on the stone. He did not turn to look at you, even when you leaned on the railing next to him.

“Beautiful night,” he spoke first, looking intently at the stars. You followed his line of sight, humming in response. Nothing was beautiful to you now.

The two of you stood like that for some time, in an understanding silence. The silver fabric of your dress glowed under the starlight, a sight that would have filled you with confidence before. Now you hardly even noticed.

“Were they…” he began, trailing off. The words were too hard to be spoken aloud, but you knew what he meant. Were they all over each other again? You nodded, noting the way he slung his whiskey back at the action. “Do you think it will ever hurt less?”

Did you? You couldn’t imagine a world in which it didn’t, but surely it wouldn’t be this way forever. You turned to look at him then, taking in the defeated form of the once strong man you knew.

Lucien had been through a lot in the last five centuries. Hel, you all had. No one was the same as they once were. But your friend had suffered more than most, and yet his suffering was brushed under the rug by the Inner Circle. You loved them dearly, yes, yet they oftentimes only focused on themselves. In all honesty you had been the same way before. All that mattered was that you and your family were happy. Others problems could come later.

Once the bond snapped and Azriel chose to ignore it, things changed. You quickly discovered that he meant more to them than you did. Not that they didn’t try to help you, of course. Mor spent many a night lying in your bed with you, holding you tight while tears ran down your face. Nesta brought you books, the closest to acknowledging the messed up way Azriel was acting. But in the end, his feelings would always win. His happiness was more important than yours.

“I can only hope it does,” you finally answered. He finally turned to face you as well, the pain in his eyes like looking in a mirror.

“How do we cope?”

You shook your head, a sad smile playing on your lips. “When you find out, please let me know.”

You stared at each other for a long moment. Perhaps it was the copious amount of alcohol you had ingested, or perhaps it was the deep sadness controlling your heart, but you couldn’t help to notice how stunning Lucien was. Even in his pain drenched form he radiated a sense of power and confidence not many others could. You simply could not wrap your head around Elains distaste for him. You understood she had her own traumas to work through, but she could do worse. You knew Lucien would be kind to her.

Unfortunately she wanted your mate instead. The thought sends a wave of nausea through your body. Lucien noticed the subtle change in your already heartbroken demeanor, reaching his hand out to yours. You gladly held on to him, tears brimming in your eyes. “It’s not fair,” you whispered, the pain building up inside of you. He shook his head, pulling you close to him. He wrapped his arm tight around your waist, the hand on his other one tangling into your hair. You rested your face on the crook of his neck as gasping sobs tore through your very soul. Your nails dug into his shirt, holding onto him as if you were desperately searching for something to ground you. Something to remind you that life still existed, and it wasn’t just you lost in the tumultuous sea of your grief.

Your heart was falling apart. You knew you were not only going to lose Azriel if this continued. If he did fully choose Elain, and she him, your life would be over. Your family would gladly welcome them as one, celebrating their love and joy. You wouldn’t be able to live as you once did. You would flee the Night Court entirely, possibly leaving a note for Rhysand. You couldn’t be sure if he would even notice your absence in the wake of joy for his brother. Though could you blame him? Your soul sang for Azriel’s happiness. It was tearing you apart that it wasn’t with you.

You clung tighter to Lucien, hands shaking. His fingers were tracing patterns in your hair, trying to soothe your fractured mind. “He doesn’t deserve you,” he murmured. His words gave you pause, pulling your face off his shoulder to look up at him. His eyes were glassy, the tears he held refusing to be shed.

“What?” You asked, your voice weak. Lucien looked intently at you, moving his hand to cup your face. His thumb brushed away your tears, a deep sorrow in his eyes.

“It is wrong of him to allow you to be in pain as such. Elain, I give her more grace than most would. But Azriel?” He spoke the shadowsingers name as if it were a curse. “He has no excuse. You have been together centuries now, close as two can be. It should have been an instant joy, the mating bond between you. And yet,” he sighs deeply, thumb tracing your skin once more. “He’s gotten it into his head that he has to be with an Archeron like his brothers.” Your heart stutters as his thumb traces your bottom lip, a fire beginning to rage in his eyes. “He’s taken it upon himself to steal away my mate, while ignoring his own. A sorry thing, too, when she is as lovely as the night she so graciously represents.” His hand slides down to trace your jawline, fire burning your skin wherever he touched. This was wrong. You were both heartbroken, tossed aside by your mates. Friends, yes, but lovers? No. You should pull away, stop this before it goes too far. This was wr-

Oh.

Your head tilted back and your mouth opened slightly as Lucien’s lips met your neck. He kissed your skin like it was his honor to do so, like he would never get the chance again. His lips traveled up to your jaw, kissing slowly across your cheek. You couldn’t breathe as your eyes fluttered closed, lips ready for his.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against your skin, nose brushing yours. You knew you should. If you allowed him to kiss you fully you would be fully admitting that Azriel was a lost hope and dream. Allowing another male to touch you in a way only your mate should.

Did it matter when that mate was too busy catching the attention of someone who wasn’t you? When all he wanted was her pretty little mouth on his? What is the harm in you finding what pleasure you could in the wake of the pain he had bestowed upon your very being?

“Kiss me.”

Lucien’s lips met yours with a fervor, an intensity you didn’t know you craved. Arousal began to spread through your body, a need for him that overtook all other thought. You pulled him closer, allowing him to cage you in against the balcony railing. You welcomed his tongue into your mouth, moaning quietly at the taste of him. His hands fell to your waist, one fisting the fabric as his restraint was rapidly fading. “He’s a fool for letting you go,” he said into your mouth, a shiver of delight running down your spine at his words.

“So is she.” His eyes flared and he kissed you again, his hand slowly working your dress up. You gasped as the cool night air danced across your heated skin. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this at all, much less right where anyone could see. The thought of someone catching you made your heart race with scandalous excitement. Not that anyone would have even noticed the two of you were gone.

Lucien’s hand flattened against your bare thigh, having pulled your dress high enough to expose the skin there. You felt alive under his touch, like you were finally being seen. You kissed him as if he were the sun and you were lost in an endless night. His fingers trailed to the inside of your thigh, a hum of surprise coming from him when he discovered you wore nothing under your gown. He found you quickly, pressing gently down on your clit. You gasped into his mouth, arching against him in pleasure. He worked you expertly, moving his fingers like he was put on this world just to please you.

His lips fell from yours, pressing quick kisses on your neck. “I want you hear you,” he whispered into your ear, allowing his thumb to take over the delicious pressure his fingers had been providing. He moved them down, sliding them gently into you. He curled them once he was deep inside, the feeling overpowering. You tilted your head back as you moaned his name, forgetting everything except for him. When Lucien touched you there was no pain from an unwanted mating bond, no thoughts of why you weren’t good enough. There was only you and him. He was painting fire into your soul, giving you the light you needed to live.

Until you felt him be ripped away from you as something cold wound it’s away around your body.

***

i have two separate endings for this! one for lucien and one for azriel <3. i just loved this idea and then couldnt decide which way i wanted it to go haha. i hope you enjoyyyyyy

Yess modern Az is something else 😩 so hot without even trying to be…

yesssssss like you know he’s covered in tats, dresses mostly in black, has a motorcycle and would probs post thirst traps of him playing electric guitar with his fingers ringed up anonymously on tiktok 😩😩

Ghost in the Wind — Part Two

SUMMARY: After gaining some clarity on your position in the court, Azriel takes you to see the city, but by the end of the day, he's left with more questions than he started with.

WARNINGS: brief mentions of depression, sexual abuse and loneliness,

WORD COUNT: 3.9k

Series Masterlist

In the three weeks that had passed, that familiar sinking feeling had begun to wedge its way deep into the pit of your stomach. You’d seen Nesta on a handful of occasions during that time. Mostly in passing, once when she dropped off more romance novels to your floor. 

Yes, floor. It seemed she didn’t want you sharing the level with her and Cassian, nor the level that you came to learn Azriel occupied just above you. 

It was suffocating you, the loneliness. The House appeared your only friend, and even that could only do so much to comfort and converse. You’d caught Cassian a few times in the mornings, when you were in the lounge reading by the fire, when he awoke to make breakfast and offered a terse nod just as Azriel did. 

Azriel. 

You hadn’t seen him at all since that night. Perhaps he was on a mission, perhaps not. It didn’t matter either way, he had no reason to see you, to seek you out. You weren’t friends, barely even acquaintances. You were a stranger living in his home. 

You had to keep reminding yourself of that.

But for how long? How long were you to be ignored, shunned as though you had a Godsforsaken plague? No, you needed to stop. You knew that wasn’t the case, no matter the nagging voice in the back of your head. 

Your gaze found your ring finger, the lack of the iron band making your stomach churn. You wondered what he was doing right now…looking for you? Or looking for another unfortunate soul he could force his body and mind upon? 

You shook your head, it wasn’t your problem anymore. And for once, you felt okay with being selfish. With putting yourself above him or a stranger. Though the thought still soured your mind. Hadn’t you been wishing all these years for someone to save you? No innocent soul deserved to endure the horrors you had by his hand. 

Just the thought of that endless pain had you standing abruptly from your position on your bed, wringing your fingers nervously. It was without proper thought that your feet carried you out of your room and down the hall, and you didn’t miss what felt like a gentle kiss of a breeze pushing you closer, encouraging you to go where you needed.

Though where you needed to go, you were unsure. You just needed to see someone, anyone. You couldn’t bear these thoughts any longer, couldn’t bear to feel like a prisoner anymore. 

You stopped dead in your tracks in the kitchen, noting Azriel sitting at the dining table with an apple in his hand. His eyes clocked yours, a brief flicker of surprise in his gaze. He pulled the fruit away from his parted lips. 

“Y/N,” he spoke, and his shadows skittered from his shoulders and slithered across the ground toward you. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

Your nostrils flared and it startled you. For years you’d been overcome with such sadness and heartache that you’d briefly forgotten what it had felt to feel anything else. Anger. That was what you felt now, a boiling rage that rooted in your gut—not at Azriel, not at Rafe or Nesta or anyone—no, you felt this anger at yourself for allowing your life to play the way it had, for allowing yourself to be so unseen and forgotten. 

I hadn’t seen you coming.

And you were so, so sick of it. 

“I’d like to see my cousin.” No please, no thank you, no desperate plea of an apology at the tip of your tongue that you had to shove down. No. You were done with being a ghost. With being nothing. 

Azriel quirked a brow, his shadows now resting on your own shoulders as they soothed your hair. He didn’t worry much about it, they often had a mind of their own around the people they sensed were calm and warm and familiar. 

But you weren’t familiar, and right now you weren’t calm and you weren’t warm. Now, you were angry, bubbling over with a whipping rage. His shadows weren’t with you out of comfort, his shadows were trying to calm you down. 

“Nesta is training with Cassian on the roof, I can get her for you—”

“No, not Nesta,” you cut him off. “Feyre, I want to speak with your High Lady and High Lord.”

Azriel’s heart would not stop racing, would not stop thumping so hard it threatened to tear through his chest. It wasn’t in fear, not at all. It was something entirely different, something so foreign he couldn’t understand, he couldn’t control. 

He didn’t dare take his eyes from you, from the way that previous anger dissipated into your usual aura of worry and grief. You were beautiful, more so in the Fae lands than in the mortal. As if the air in Prythian breathed new life into you, as if you’d always belonged here. 

Azriel remembered what you’d said. How everything felt clearer after stepping through that wall. He had suspicions, very far-fetched and precarious suspicions, but he kept them to himself and his shadows as he watched on. 

That icy rage crumbled to a simmering pot of exhaustion as Feyre and Rhysand strolled into the House of Wind, hand in hand. You hadn’t seen your youngest cousin in years, and motherhood—Faehood…it looked good on her. She was thriving and you could almost feel the love and security the High Lord oozed when he looked at her. 

“Y/N…” the High Lady breathed as she took you in. 

You looked much healthier than when she’d last seen you those few years ago. Your skin had begun to regain its colour, your body beginning to rebuild its strength. Those awful bruises had healed, but you still wore that same frightful look on your face. 

“Fey…” You struggled to find the words to say to her, where to start. You wanted nothing more than to hold her, to feel another’s embrace but you didn’t approach. You weren’t accustomed to how things worked here, that even though she was your cousin, she was also High Lady. 

Would it be improper to embrace her? Would Rhysand and Azriel pull you off her? See you as a threat for wanting to feel your cousin's familiar touch and love?

As though she’d read your thoughts, Feyre closed the distance between you both and took you into her arms. Your resolve began to crumble, all of those feelings of loneliness creeping up on you in full force.

You willed the tears back as much as you could, but Feyre held you close, cooing to you that it was alright, that you were safe and she was so glad to have you there. 

It took much of your strength to finally pull away and cast your eyes to her mate, to the High Lord. Rhysand watched with a polite smile, though there was a look in his eyes as he gazed at you…a look that suggested he understood. 

Understood everything that you had endured, every feeling and thought as if he’d also once experienced them, too. 

“I um…I wanted to thank you both for allowing Nesta to bring me here.”

Rhysand chuckled at that, soft and sultry. 

“Nobody allows Nesta to do anything. She does what she wants and we all have to accept it whether we like it or not.”

He spoke in a humorous tone, as if the words hadn’t struck a cord so deep in your stomach that it made you nauseous. 

Azriel tensed beside him, and Rhysand quickly caught on to just how poorly he worded himself. “We are delighted to have you here, Y/N. But I’m incredibly sorry for the circumstances it took to get you out.”

You swallowed thickly, eyes darting between him and Feyre. 

“I appreciate you allowing me a room at the House of Wind, but I don’t wish to overstay my welcome.”

A collective frown plastered on their faces, but you continued. “I don’t know very much about these lands, but I’m happy and willing to work for my keep and find my own place of residence.”

Feyre flinched as though you’d struck her. “What’s wrong? You don’t like the House?”

Your lips parted and eyes widened, worried you’d now offended her. “No! No, the House is wonderful, truly,” you reassured her. “I just don’t want to be a burden, you’ve all done so much for me, I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness. I don’t want anyone to feel uncomfortable having a stranger in their home.”

Your eyes briefly met Azriel’s hazel ones, something akin to sorrow and regret in those golden orbs. Rhysand then took a tentative step closer, a deep-set frown of worry on his brows. 

“Y/N, if you wish for your own residence, we will fund that for you. But you are no stranger. You are family, and family will always have a home here. If the House of Wind is too much, we have the townhouse you are welcome to, or we can find something else that’s more suited to you.”

There was no point in hiding the silver that lined your eyes, not when you knew the three of them could smell and sense your every emotion. Perhaps that was why a tear fell down Feyre’s rosy cheeks—perhaps she could feel your agony, your appreciation.

Perhaps they all could feel that you were so unused to this kindness, to being wanted. 

Rhysand reached for your hand then, his skin warm against yours and your eyes fluttered closed. Nothing about the action was intimate, but you were beginning to realise just how touch starved you were, and Rhys could feel that. 

“Nesta thought you might want some space and time to adjust.” He admitted quietly, his voice soothing as it coaxed you to open your eyes. A violet gaze full of care and promise. Promise of love and acceptance. 

Then, his voice grew lighter, full of teasing humour. “She also threatened to skin us alive if we allowed you to be alone in the presence of a male. We never intended to make you feel alone.” 

… all Azriel did was give you a terse nod in greeting and a thin smile before walking down the hall and out of your sight. 

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. How foolish you had been to think you were a burden, that they hadn’t wanted you there. A watery chuckle left your lips as you opened your eyes and met Azriel’s gaze again. Sorrow. Guilt. That was why. 

You looked back to Rhysand just as something gentle stroked at your mind. It took you by surprise but his eyes never left yours, as though he was coaxing you to let him in, to let him feel your pain, to let him understand better. 

It scared you, the idea of anyone seeing your rawest thoughts and emotions. But his eyes, those violet eyes so familiar and warm in a way you could never begin to understand. So you let him in, let him feel everything you tried so hard to keep hidden away and locked up, and it caught the breath from his lungs, rendering him speechless. 

He swallowed thickly, eyes fluttering closed. And in a heartbeat, that pain and agony mellowed and faded until you felt nothing at all except pure relief. You didn’t know how he did it, how he forged his way through the dark forest of your mind and guided you through the other end.

There were no words to describe it. Nothing except at the end of that dark forest lay an open field of fresh soil and grass and trees and sunshine. A fresh start in mind and spirit, a place for you to plant new seeds. A place to hope. 

As quickly as he entered, he retreated. And he took that darkness with him—as much as he could. 

“I understand the pain you have endured in your life. For fifty years, I experienced something very similar. But that pain does not define you. The mind is a powerful thing, Y/N. As long as you believe in hope, you will always find it.”

He released your hand then, stepping back to Feyre’s side. 

“Tonight, we will have a family dinner at the House of Wind so you can meet the others. The House will always be a home to you, whether you chose to stay or find your own residence. But you needn’t do anything alone anymore. And if you’d like to work, we can find something for you, but for now…enjoy your freedom.”

A gentle tapping at your bedroom door broke your attention from your book. You blinked, waiting to see if you'd heard right, when a lone shadow slinked under your door as if to silently let you know who was on the other side. 

Placing your book to the side, you padded to the door and slowly opened it. Azriel stood a respectable distance away, allowing you space to breathe and he offered a gentle smile in greeting. 

“I was about to head into the city for some supplies…I was wondering if you’d like to join me. I’d have to fly you, of course, if you’re comfortable with that.” 

Your heart thundered in your chest. Not at the aspect of being alone with him, but at the thought of finally exploring the city you watched from your balcony every night. 

You loosed a breath. “Am I allowed?” 

He frowned, a shadow reaching for your fingers in a way of reassurance. “Of course. Rhys meant what he said. You’re free to go anywhere you wish.”

You inhaled somewhat shakily, and found yourself nodding your head. 

Azriel took a moment then to take in your appearance. No doubt clothes that Nesta had sorted for you—a pair of simple black leggings and a thick grey knitted sweater. 

You noticed his eyes racking over your outfit and a warmth found its way to your cheeks. “Should I change?” 

His eyes met yours and he shook his head, his smile growing just slightly. “No, not unless you want to.” You nodded just as he added, “I think you look lovely.” 

A compliment. Gods when was the last time you’d received a compliment? There was no hiding the heat that painted your cheeks and neck, no hiding the way you averted his gaze and rocked back and forth on the balls of your feet. 

Ah, shoes. You needed shoes. 

“Just let me find something to put on my feet.”

You turned and left the door open, allowing Azriel a view of your bare room. He noted the lack of…well anything. Nothing on your walls, no nick-nacks or trinkets. Nothing but a satchel on your dresser and three books on the window seat. 

A moment now to compose himself, to regain his bearings. He didn't have to keep his distance anymore, didn't have to hide his growing intrigue and infatuation with you.

Infatuation. As if he were nothing more than a lap dog. Rhys had warned him as much—to not be how he had in the past. And it was easy this time to reassure his brother that it wasn't like that.

It wasn't a hungry desire that consumed him, no. It was something deeper than that, something inexplicably and irrevocably crippling.

But he had promised himself to be mindful of your past, your current state. He wanted to get to know you, an dire need and desire for you to get to know him, too.

His shadows threatened to follow but Azriel reigned them in, scolding silently that it was rude to enter uninvited. He and his tendrils of darkness waited at the threshold of your room, watching as you approached once more with a pair of flats on your feet. 

It was then that Azriel could sense your excitement. And that unfamiliar feeling found its way in his chest and stomach and soul again. 

You had never seen anything like Velaris before in your life. It was just as beautiful in the day as it was at night from the view of your bedroom. Azriel landed softly, mindful of you the entire flight down and as your feet hit the cobblestone path, you took a deep breath. 

The streets were wide, rows of shops and vendors and restaurants everywhere you looked. Bustling with life, fae of all varieties walked the streets of their home. Some blue, some pink, some green. 

It took you a few moments to take it all in—so overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of what you’d been missing in these twenty-six years of your life. Your hand was still wrapped around Azriel’s bicep as he tucked his wings in and began to guide you through the city streets. 

Too caught up in your surroundings, you missed the looks of passersby that lingered a little too long. The citizens of Velaris were not used to their Shadowsinger escorting a female so intimately through the city. Much less a mortal female.

But no one seemed to balk at that, no one appeared to have a problem with your presence. 

Azriel walked you through the streets, pointing out different places that he and the rest of the Inner Circle liked to frequent most. You were in awe, completely dumbfounded by the sheer beauty of it all. 

And when he guided you toward a merchant's cart full of crystals and rocks and stones, your excitement seemed to grow tenfold. 

“You like crystals?” Azriel asked, noticing the way your feet hurried a little faster to view the vendor. 

A brief smile coated your lips as your eyes trailed the pieces on display.

“My mother used to collect them. Secretly, of course—they were forbidden in the mortal lands, claimed to be used by the Fae and other…creatures. She said they harnessed healing properties. They were all I had left of her.”

It was the most Azriel had heard you speak at once, and he was not about to let you dwell on that for a single moment. He wanted to hear more. 

“Did you bring them with you?”

Your smile faded, fingers reaching out to trace over an uncut rose quartz. “No. After Rafe and I wed, he found them and he threw them into the river.”

You didn’t look at Azriel as you spoke, didn’t even know why you admitted such an agonizing memory outloud, but he didn’t press further. Though you were sure you could’ve heard a shadow of his hiss in disdain.

“This one is tigers eye.” You pointed to the smooth stone no larger than a silver coin. “My mother called it the Stone of Courage…and this one is black tourmaline, the Stone of Protection.”

Azriel watched you closely, watched your shoulders relax at the memory of your late mother. He scooped them into a scarred hand, nodding for the merchant’s attention and they were wrapped in parchment and handed over to you.

You blubbered, looking between the merchant and Azriel, to tell them both that you were simply admiring, that you had no money. But Azriel nodded a thanks and with a hand to the small of your back, he guided you further into the city.

“If you see something you like, put it on the House’s account and it will be taken care of. Rhys has more money than sense, he’d be offended if you didn’t spend it.”

The thought of spending the High Lord’s money was not one that sat well with you. Despite the kindness he’d shown earlier, the promise of you not being a burden…you didn’t want to take advantage anymore than you already had. 

You didn’t say anything, though. Not when you had a feeling Azriel would only try to convince you otherwise. 

You walked for another thirty minutes, your hand still around his arm but he didn’t protest, didn’t allow you to be separated from him as you walked through a busier crowd. 

And then you saw it. That beautiful winding river that sparkled like the deepest sapphire. It flowed through the city, loitered with ships and boats to import and export all sorts of goods. 

“This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Breathless. You were utterly awestruck. Yet Azriel couldn’t seem to take his eyes away from you. In his 500 years of life, he’d seen some incredibly gorgeous females, yet none as exquisite as you. 

There was nothing mortal about your beauty, about your aura. And the longer he was spending in your presence, the more he felt himself sinking under. 

And watching you now, so relaxed and at peace… 

He shouldn’t be feeling this. Not again. Not for you. And yet despite that, he found himself saying, “You haven’t even seen the Rainbow yet.”

You looked at him then, eyes glistening and cheeks warm. 

“What’s the Rainbow?”

Azriel smiled, wide and untamed and your heart stopped. “It’s what Velaris is known for. There’s a hundred galleries, supply stores, sculpture gardens…and anything in between.”

He felt like he was going to die. His heart would not stop pounding, his shadows would not stop skittering. The smile on your face grew, your eyes wild and alive. That unfamiliar feeling—he knew what that was now. 

Excitement. And not yours this time, but his own. Something he hadn’t felt since Rhys and Cassian taught him to fly as a young boy. 

“I’ll take you,” he found himself saying. “Whenever you want to go, I’ll take you.”

You looked back at the river then, hope in your eyes once more. For the first time in your life, you felt like you belonged. You could see yourself happy here, living and not just surviving. 

And Azriel, oh, Azriel wanted to watch every moment of your happiness. Because despite the horrors you’d been subjected to, despite the things Rhysand saw in your memories, the thoughts in your mind…you still held hope. 

You still longed to live another day. 

So he didn’t follow as your feet carried you across the river bank, didn’t say a word as you sat on the grass and let yourself feel and breathe and water that fresh field in your mind. 

He watched from afar, allowing you this moment. 

And as you stood and raised your hands from the soil and sauntered toward the rivers clearing, Azriel’s shadows began to quiver in that now recognisable way his chest had seized throughout the day, whispering to him.

A lonesome patch of brown and green tulips lay in your wake, as though you’d breathed life into the earth with nothing more than your mind and touch. 

He balked and the shadows whispered again.

So that night, after dinner with the Inner Circle, where you laughed and smiled and ate…Azriel found himself travelling across Velaris at a lightning speed toward the wall at the border of the Spring Court and mortal lands. 

And there, where the remnants of that creature barely remained, laid another solitude patch of tulips—brown and green. 

A/N: hehe, you're truly not prepared for what I have planned for this series hahahaha but I would love to hear your guys' thoughts and theories about where you think this series might be going!!

If you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated <3

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What the fuck have they done to the mobile dashboard

starting kingdom of ash today 🤧

Smoke & Light — Series Masterlist [Plug!Azriel]

★ indicates smut 𖤓 indicates fluff ♡ indicates angst

SUMMARY: Azriel is a well known dealer with top quality bud. He has clients from all walks of life… but his newest, he can’t seem to get enough of.

WARNINGS: This series includes heavy mentions and descriptions of drugs. Azriel is a drug dealer so please do not read if that makes you uncomfortable. Includes swearing, sexual themes and content, mentions of blood and weapons, illegal activities.

PAIRING: Plug!Azriel x Reader

STATUS: Ongoing

Main Masterlist

— 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠

Part One ★ — Your ex-boyfriend gives you his dealers number, but you don’t expect for him to be so fine. And you certainly don’t expect him to be so goddamn flirty. (9.9k)

Part Two ★𖤓 — A run in with the cops is another reminder of the horrors Azriel faced through his childhood. Maybe one day he’ll open up about it, but not today. Today, he's solely focussed on helping you out of a bad trip. (8.2k)

Part Three ★𖤓 — When Azriel’s blind date goes nothing as expected, you keep him company while he drops off to customers where Azriel comes to the realisation that you could be the answer to all of his problems. (Coming soon!)

Part Four ★♡ — TBD

Part Five ★𖤓♡—TBD

— 𝑀𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑒𝑜𝑢𝑠

+ general tag

TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST PLEASE SEND ME AN ASK, I DO NOT ALWAYS CHECK MY COMMENTS SO MAY NOT SEE IT, YOU WILL ONLY BE ADDED TO IT IF YOU ASK VIA MY INBOX!!