Doofus (pt 1)

Doofus (pt 1)

a/n: after not writing for months suddenly a wave of azriel appreciation hit me so i wrote this. 

summary: you agree to go on a date with azriel.

word count: 399.

pt 2 here.

After your friends suggested you go on “the apps” (”what apps?” “dating apps, dummy”), you’d been swiping meaninglessly, until you came upon someone named Azriel, and you quickly realised that the two of you could talk for hours. 

You found out that you go to the same university, and even had a few classes together, but with student sizes of over 100 in all of them, it wasn’t shocking you’d never seen him before. When he proposed you meet after class, you happily agreed, wanting to get to know him better. After a few months of meeting, one afternoon, he dragged you into the alleyway behind the fated coffee cart where you first saw him and asked you on a date. 

***

”Azriel, what have we said about pulling girls into dark spaces?”

Azriel scoffed, his trademark grin making an appearance. “Only the pretty ones, y/n.”

“Yeah, yeah. Why are we in here?” You take a sip of your water, and Azriel watched your mouth as a droplet landed on your chin.

“’Cos. I want to take you out on a date.” 

You cough, spluttering out your mouthful of water, barely missing Azriel’s nice, new woolen jacket. 

“You know just what to do to boost a guy’s ego, love.” Azriel deadpans, but steadying you nonetheless as you bend over, coughing some more.

“You want to take me out on a date. You, Azriel wants to take me out on a date.”

“You sound dazed, have my charms worked too well?” He asks, but you could see his eyes darting around nervously. 

“You actually want to date me?”

“Well, yeah. Y/n, you’re gonna need to throw me a rope or whatever the saying is because now I dunno if it was a good idea to ask-,” Azriel starts.

“No, wait! I mean aha... zziipp? Rope thrown.” You mimic reeling him in with a rope, but Azriel just crosses his arms, unimpressed. Come on, you think. That was a little funny.

“Sorry, it’s just that... I know we met on a dating app and everything but since meeting each other for real so long ago, we’ve never even mentioned getting into a relationship. I thought my crush would go unrequited!” 

Azriel smiles, “You have a crush on me?”

You huff, eyes rolling. “Isn’t it obvious? Have my charms not been working on you?”

“So... is this a yes on the date?” 

“It’s a yes on the date, doofus.”

Habit.

summary: a rare lazy morning with azriel.

warnings: none?

word count: 344.

You and Azriel had spent the night tangled up in each other's arms, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets and soft pillows. As the morning light filtered through the window, you slowly stirred awake, your bodies still intertwined in a mess of sheets and limbs.

Azriel's eyes fluttered open, and he found himself staring into your face, your eyes closed, your breathing deep and even. He couldn't help but smile as he watched you sleep, admiring the soft curve of your cheek and the way your hair spilled over the pillow like a waterfall.

You stirred slightly, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. You smiled sleepily, admiring how his eyes changed from brown to green in the morning light. "Morning," you murmured, yawning.

"Good morning," Azriel replied, his voice low and gentle. "You look beautiful."

You grinned, rolling over onto your back and stretching languidly. "Flattery will get you everywhere," you teased, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Azriel chuckled, tracing a finger along your jaw, then to your collarbone. "Is that so?" he asked, his voice playful. "I'll have to keep that in mind."

You lay there for a few moments longer, just enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies and the soft rustle of the sheets. Azriel leaned in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling back.

"You know," you said, breaking the comfortable silence. "I could get used to waking up like this."

Azriel smiled, his eyes twinkling with faint amusement. "Me too," he replied. "Although I have to admit, I wouldn't mind waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs every now and then."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You and your appetite," you teased. "I swear, you're like a bottomless pit."

Azriel grinned, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. "Hey, it's a healthy warrior's appetite," he said, his voice laced with humor.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile belied your exasperation. "Whatever you say, Az," you said. "But if you keep eating like that, I might have to start hiding the bacon."

Azriel raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "Is that a threat, my love?" he asked, his voice smooth.

You laughed, sitting up and throwing a pillow at him. "You wish," you said, eyes dancing with mirth. You reached for the dress you were wearing last night, the chill of the morning air causing goosebumps. You felt Azriel's eyes boring into the bare flesh of your back, the small of your waist as you bent over, and from the resounding laugh that echoed down the mating bond, you figured he was enjoying the view. "But seriously," you said, trying to ignore the tingling on your skin. "We should probably get up at some point, we have that meeting with Rhys and Mor today. You should thank Cass too, since he was just so kind to give me the day off," you smirked, knowing the general would be extremely preoccupied with Nesta, and the little gift you bought her while shopping in The Rainbow.

Azriel groaned, pulling the blankets up around his chin. "Don't mention Cass right now." he said. "Besides, Rhys loves us, can't we just stay here forever?"

You shook your head, laughing. "As much as I would love that, I think a certain bub we also have to babysit this morning won't be happy. You love Nyx," you said, reaching over to quickly give him a peck on the lips. "But don't worry, we can always come back here later."

Azriel grinned, pulling you back as he kissed you again. "Oh, I like the sound of that," he said. "Maybe we can even make it a habit."

You blushed, feeling a rush of heat spread through your body. "You're incorrigible."

Azriel just grinned, pulling you back down onto the bed and wrapping his arms around you. "And you love it," he whispered.

can't wait for pat 2 of broken bonds! soooo good my heart hurts lol in my head the reader leaves velaris while azriel is gone maybe bc she hears rumors that the queen has taken an illyrian as a lover or something and when azriel is back he's like wtf why did no one tell me my nate is gone and he's kinda spiraling and searches for her for months and finally he finds he in helions court but when he sees her he sees helion coming towards her with a baby wrapped up in his arms and he assumes reader had a baby with helion and just like angssst 👀👀👀

HHAHAHA this is like my fancfic of a fanfic lol anyways cant wait for part two !

ahh thank you anon 🥰🥰!! tysm to everyone who read broken bonds 🩷🩷 ik i said im on hiatus but to celebrate 110 followers (crazy !!!!) pt 2 is officially in progress + its looking like a 3 part series rn

still will be putting tumblr on the backburner for study though 😘😘

Baking

summary: you and azriel bake a cake for your son's birthday.

warnings: none?

word count: 306.

You and Azriel were in the kitchen, baking a cake for your son's 2nd birthday. The two of you were like a well-oiled machine, working together seamlessly to measure out ingredients and mix them together in perfect harmony.

As you worked, you chatted and laughed with your mate, reminiscing. Azriel couldn't help but admire you as you mixed the batter, covered in flour but the happiest he'd seen you in a while, your hair falling in loose waves around your face and your eyes sparkling with joy.

"So," he said, leaning in closer to you, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Are you going to let me lick the bowl when we're done?"

You laughed, a musical sound that made Azriel's heart skip a beat. "I don't know, Az," you teased. "You might have to fight me for it."

Azriel grinned, his eyes flickering with amusement. "I'm up for the challenge," he said, winking at you.

You worked together in silence for a few moments, your movements fluid and synchronized. As you poured the batter into the cake pan, Azriel reached out and took your hand, his thumb tracing small circles on your palm.

"Thank you for doing this with me," he said softly. "I love spending time with you."

You smiled; your cheeks flushed with happiness. "I love spending time with you too," you replied, squeezing his hand gently before bringing it up and kissing his scars.

As the cake baked in the oven, you and Azriel set to work on the frosting. You worked together to whip the butter and sugar together, your movements slow and deliberate, stopping once in a while to check the cookbook Feyre lent you.

As you worked, Azriel couldn't help but steal glances at you. He loved the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled, and the way your lips curved into a perfect bow.

"Hey," he said suddenly, breaking the silence between you. "Do you remember the first time we baked together?"

Your eyes lit up with fond remembrance. "Of course I do," you replied. "It was that apple pie we made for your mother's birthday."

Azriel chuckled, shaking his head, the memory still fresh in his mind. "Yeah, we burnt the crust so badly she had to hack at it with a kitchen knife."

You giggled, your laughter ringing through the kitchen. "But it was still delicious," you said. "And we had so much fun making it."

Azriel nodded, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "We always have fun together," he said. "No matter what we're doing."

You smiled at him, your eyes shining with love. "I know," you said. "And I wouldn't want to do this with anyone else. I wouldn't want to be mated to anyone else, Azriel."

As you finished frosting the cake and placed it in the fridge to cool, Azriel pulled you into his arms, his lips meeting yours in a soft, tender kiss.

"I love you," he murmured.

Ghost.

summary: azriel visits your old home after its destroyed during the second fae war.

warnings: this got a tad dark. mentions of war and his mate (you)'s death (off-page), and an unborn child.

word count: 1313.

***

Azriel returned to the home he had shared with you, his heart heavy with grief and anguish. The Second Fae War had ravaged the Night Court and left behind a trail of destruction. As he stepped through the door, his eyes fell upon the ruins that lay before him. The walls were cracked, the roof had caved in, and the once-beautiful garden was now nothing but a wasteland, the roses Elain had gifted you, the ones that the two of you had spent hours tending to, were now nothing but ashes.

Azriel's heart shattered as he gazed upon the ruins of what had once been his home. He walked through the debris, his footsteps echoing through the empty house. He saw the old picture frames that used to adorn the walls, and memories of his mate flooded his mind.

There was one picture that stood out from the rest, a picture of you and him on your wedding day. Azriel reached out to touch it, but his hand only touched the broken glass that lay on the floor, the picture underneath dull and burned.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions that raged inside him. His siphons flared, and he itched to unsheathe Truthteller, but as his fingers twitched, the flashbacks began. He saw himself and his mate as they had once been, happy and in love. He was about to become a father.

He remembered the way you had smiled at him, the way you had laughed at his jokes, the way you had held him close in your arms. He remembered the way you had kissed him, the taste of your lips, the feel of your soft hands against his marred ones. He remembered the whispered promises, and the whispered sins. The moments he loved, and the unloved ones.

The days and nights you two spent tangled up in crisp, white sheets, exploring each other's bodies until the sun rose. The days and nights where you had cried so hard, begged and pleaded for Azriel to not leave to the point where your throat was raw. You did everything to stop the torture as Azriel put himself on the front line, again and again, as Azriel pushed himself too far, again and again.

He supposed that now all he had left were memories, and they were not enough to ease the pain he felt. What wouldn't he give for one last moment with you?

He fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face as he let out a cry of agony. Lifting Truthteller out of the sheathe you had crafted, he stabbed it into the floorboards, rotted and crumbling, channeling the little energy he had left to plunge the knife deep, his siphons flaring blue, bouncing off the decrepit walls.

"Why did you leave me?" he whispered to the empty house. "Why did you have to go?"

Azriel knew the answer, but it did little to ease the pain he felt. You, his mate had died in the war, a casualty of the senseless violence that had torn their world apart. You were supposed to be safe. A craftswoman, a healer. You were never supposed to be on the front line, so what had happened?

He knelt there for what seemed like hours, until his legs cramped, and his eyes drooped. When he finally got up, he knew that he had to visit one last place. Tears in his eyes, he turned his head, coming eye to eye to the room where he was last happy.

The nursery.

He faced it, the door with the name of their unborn son still painted on it, Feyre's charm for everlasting paint somehow holding when his numerous wards did not. The door still stood tall and unbroken amidst the chaos, like a cruel reminder. Cobwebs hung from the hinges, the star-shaped window in the middle was shattered, but the frame and his son's name, remained virtually untouched.

As he reached towards the doorhandle, the memories of you flooded back. Memories of your laughter, your touch, your smile, your ability to do good and see good in everyone. This remarkable female, his remarkable mate, his remarkable wife, who would have been a mother like never seen before.

But the happiness was brief, because then came the memories of your death. Then came the memories of the way your body had gone cold in his arms, had gone limp in his arms. Then came the memories that detailed how he had watched the light that he loved so much leave your eyes, the blood on his hands yours.

He sank to the ground again, just shy of stepping inside the nursery, body wracking with sobs. Most of his family was gone, the Night Court's remaining allies were unhelpful now, weak themselves. And of the remaining 4 courts, each was depleted in their own way, almost entirely destroyed and unable to support any more than their own dwindling populations.

His mate and his unborn child were gone, taken from him by a war that seemed to have no end.

Azriel didn't know how to go on, how to keep fighting when everything he cared about was gone. There was no point in surviving without joy.

But then Azriel remembered something. And that thing reminded him that he had a duty to fulfill, a war to fight.

He thought long and hard, clung to this small beacon of hope that had graced his conscious thoughts. There were few people alive to fight for. Some of the Inner Circle's loved ones who made it, some of the Inner Circle itself.

Then he thought about the ones who didn't make it, the friends and family he had known for centuries. He would fight for them too.

He first vowed to visit them soon, bring them a rose or two, give them a proper sendoff. Then, he vowed that no one else in his life would receive the same damned fate you did.

And so, he forced himself to stand, to take one last look at the ruined home that had once been filled with love and laughter, filled with the promise of new beginnings, and a family.

Azriel turned and walked away, his steps heavy and slow. His mind was clearer, brighter now, and he knew that the pain of the war would never leave him, that the memories would haunt him forever, but he also knew that he had to keep going, to keep fighting.

His thigh had stopped bleeding now, the arrow head crusted with his blood. His head was not as heavy as it was that morning. His wings were still torn, his shoulder dislocated, but he couldn't spare an ounce of sympathy for himself. He was a monster. He had tortured and killed, had hunted and stalked. Perhaps the Cauldron thought he deserved such a fate, and who was he to disagree?

As he walked away from the ruins of his home, Azriel knew that he would never forget his mate, that he would always carry her memory with him. But he was not the Night Court's Spymaster for nothing. He knew could not let his grief consume him, he had to keep going, no matter how hard it was, because that would mean losing himself, and he wouldn't dare lose the thing you loved most.

He ran a mental finger over your words, his beacon of hope, his saving grace.

"Whatever happens, promise me you won't dwell," you said, the evening before Azriel was to leave for the Winter Court. You had heard Cassian and Rhys in the meeting room earlier that day, planning to divert supplies and visit the Illyrian camps for recruitments, but you knew nothing else. "Promise me you won't let whatever may or may not be coming render you to merely a husk of your old self. I love you, Azriel, and I will never stop, and I just know our son will love you too."