Azriel x Reader | Memento Mori

type: smut warning(s): explicit descriptions, this is filth, an dark, and a bit sinister word count: 3.3k words summary: As Grim Reaper Azriel is absolutely not amused to find out about a young healer, saving his already claimed souls from dying. He comes to find you, to have a word with you. He does not know what expects him.  Once again thank you to @moonlightazriel for placing this thought in my mind <33

-all rights reserved-

He comes for everyone — the rich, the poor, the strong, the weak, those who suffer, those who do not expect. He cuts your thread, you are his, his to claim. He will come for you at night, find you at day, curl his cold, scarred fingers around your trembling body, take you with him.

You are his from then on. He, whose name is unknown to mortals, goes on the hunt, every day, every hour, to find his victims, his new prey.

No pleading, no begging helps—he is merciless, ruthless, cruel, cold. And what he wants, he gets.

The echoes of his former claims, the pleas for just a day longer, one moment, another chance, hollow in the mind of the angel of Death, Azriel. He leaves his empire of claimed souls, long cloak gliding over the floor like a shadow, rustling on the ground.

One dark winter’s night his target is something new, something that makes his blood boil, his cold skin grow hot. Fueled by anger he is driven to the mortal lands once again.

You make his blood boil—a mortal who challenges Death, makes fun of him by saving people, saving them from death, bringing them back to life.

His balance is out of control and if there is one thing Azriel cannot stand then it is losing control. You make him lose control, and he doesn’t even know you in person yet. He does not know what will expect him when he lays eyes on you, when his soul for the first time in centuries starts glowing, yearning. His balance is shaken and that only through a mortal?

The knock of death against your door is soft, yet powerful. You don’t even have to ponder, having already expected the male hidden behind his shadows. Confident steps carry you to the door where you peek through a tiny hole in the wood. His face is veiled in shadows, his hat drawn, a dark cloak completing his appearance. 

You draw in a deep breath, readying yourself for your very first encounter with Him—the Lord of Death. Azriel, born of shadow and darkness. 

And then your own fingers curl around the cool handle, almost teasingly, like you’re a playing death once again, you open the door, your eyes lifting to the covered face, the male looming over you. His face is shielded, yet his eyes, the deep hazel, stand out—are a stark contrast to his appearance. They pierce right into your soul and you know that in this very moment Death knows what you have done in your life. Every good and every bad deed, it is all revealed to him.

Icy cold creeps into your skin, almost making it burn. You can see your breath, can feel your heart beat in your throat. It is true what they say, his biting grip starts when you make eye contact with him.

Your voice is a breathy whisper, in his ears the most erotic sound he has ever heard, when you say, “I was expecting you, Lord of Death.”

Azriel is not too fond of this feistiness. He does not like it when people are not scared, when they don’t run and beg. It makes his anger increase that your are so confident, so cocky, so feisty.

He is so very angry and all of a sudden thoughts of how he could punish you for that flood his mind. None of these things only partly scrape the thought of taking your life. He is beyond that. He wants to do other things to you, he wants you to beg for other things, plead and cry when he his moving inside of you. These thoughts that are so obscene and lewd, his cock strains against his tight pants, making an ache and longing appear that he has never felt before.

Another thing he hates because this is also what losing control feels like. His rising lust only fuels his anger, his desire making it so hard to breathe that his voice is ragged and raspy when the next words leave his mouth. “How dare you?”

Azriel takes a step closer, his jaw clenched, his eyes like burning flames.

“How dare you be so fearless in the eyes of Death? So reckless? I’ve known you are one of the bad kind, but you are even worse.” His voice is a cold, rough growl that has your insides clenching, your toes curling and you accept this challenge, inviting Death inside your home.

“You may enter, Lord of Death.” And with that you step back, allowing the cold and darkness to fill every little corner of your home.

You allow him your entrance? It feels like the greatest mockery he has ever experienced.

He sweeps in, his dark cloak moving over the ground like a wave of darkness. His presence immediately fills the interior of your little hut, power stretching out like a dark cloud, his cold curling around your spine. But it is his darkness that thrills you, that you want to consume you.

The male, so tall, looming over you, makes a sharp spin and pins you with his gaze. For a moment you find yourself unable to look away, to think, to breathe. All your attention goes to his piercing eyes, flames of hazel burning in them. 

“Why are you not afraid, mortal?” The Lord of Death spits his questions like the words taste foul on his tongue. “Because I am not scared of a man whose only job is to claim those who have no choice, those who suffer, those who—“ The shadowy male cuts you off, hurdling towards you so quickly you have not seen it coming. The is a moment of taunting and teasing, you circle each other, until he cradles your face in his icy, scarred hand, glaring deep into your eyes, your soul. 

“I am keeping balance. And I claim all of them. All of you. All mortals. The suffering, the happy ones, the kind ones, the bad ones.” He puts stress on bad, nearing your face, but before he can make any further move bindings snap up from the ground, curling around his wrists, by magic a chair moves forward, the bindings pull him down, restraining him. 

You grin in triumph.

“You—“ he hisses. “How dare you defy me, mortal filth. Release me!”

Eyes aglow, Death scans your body with a predatory gaze. 

“Release me!” His voice is louder than expected, the deep tenor hollering through your hut.

But you withstand the rising threat, the rising angst, slowly creeping into your body. You clamp it down. You withstand it—you withstand him. The corners of your lips curl upwards, you are at an advantage, you have him exactly where you want him. He will be the one begging, pleading…for your mercy. “As I said, I am not scared of Death. Having conquered him many times already.”

You add and extra sway to your hips when you waddle over to the male, grinning delightedly. “I am not afraid of you.” 

And although this sentence is a mockery and he should feel angry and violent, his heart warms at that, his heart beating frantically. You are not afraid. You are not afraid of death. Of him. 

Everyone has always been afraid of him. Not you. You are not scared—not even in his presence. It is this knowledge, this knowledge that no matter what he will do you won’t scare of him, that makes him want to lose control. That makes him feel alright with this loss of control. He wants to be submissive for you. He likes that you have taken control of this situation.

Azriel's head tips back an inch, his chest heaving when your scent of life, of night, of forest, fills his nostrils. You place a knee on the chair between his thighs, your hands moving to his shoulders.

This is the last push he needs to fully give into you, to fully give himself to you. You are not afraid to touch him. Everyone has always backed away from touching his icy surface, scared they might die right where they were.

Death has never had a lover, has never had any intimate encounters, but he knows exactly how he would take you that night, how he would worship you. 

Azriel groans lowly, when intentionally or not your knee slides closer. He squeezes his eyes shut, releasing a shuddering breath. “Tell me what you want from me.”

Not a question, but a command that leaves room for interpretation. 

Your hand brushes over his shoulders, the lapels of his cloak. You can feel his cold skin underneath, wanting nothing more than to let your palms glide over it. You have no idea what he does to you, why you want him so much. It feels like some primal need is finally awakened, yearning and longing filling every fiber of your body. Voluntarily or not your arch into him, nearly coming in contact with his chest. “I want you to stop claiming the lives of those who have done nothing in their life to deserve it. Who have not gotten a chance to live. Children, babies.”

“It is not my decision to make!”

That makes you angry and you grit your teeth, leaning closer. You grasp his hat from his head, tossing it away and fully revealing his stunning face. Cruel beauty.  

“It is! Don’t you have a heart?” Azriel’s fingers curl towards his palms, stuck on the armrest of the chair. 

“I do have a heart!” he spits and wants to add, that it is finally beating, beating for you and you only. Filling with warmth for the first time in centuries. Not the only body part that is filled with warmth. His cock throbs with need, a painful ache behind his all of a sudden so tight pants.

“It is to keep the balance. When the—“ “Fuck the balance. You take children away from their mothers, their fathers. Their hearts are ripped open without hope for repair.” Tears dwell in your eyes at the thought of your neighbour, losing her one year old. Fury burns it way through your body, your skin is on fire when your fingers curls around Azriel’s throat. He meets your gaze, nostrils flared, eyes ablaze. 

“I was going to say that when the fates cut their life thread I am coming to claim them. It is not me who makes this decision. And it is never ever easy to take a child, just so you know. I might have thought you think that I find incredibly pleasure in taking children away from their parents.”

That…you haven’t known. “It is not you who…”

You lose yourself in your thoughts, your mind running wild. It is not him who cuts the life threads. He only comes to claim the people. 

“I didn’t know.”

The corner of Azriel’s lips curls into an almost mocking smirk, his eyes darken when they seize in on your face. “Obviously.”

For a moment your gazes are locked, piercing into the others soul and for the first time this evening you care about what he might see inside your soul. His eyes do things to you. And you know one thing for sure: when it comes to this male there is not much seduction needed, he pins you with his gaze and you core starts throbbing with need.

But you won’t let him have this. You lean closer, so close your noses are almost touching. Your tongue poking out, licking over your dry lips, the shadowy male’s eyes cast down, following the movement. You know what your are doing. You know exactly what you are doing and that it is driving him mad. Death has truly lost control and that to a mortal. A mortal who tired to defy him, mock him, play him. But gods, does he like this. 

“What is it that you want?” you ask, your voice a breathy whisper. Azriel knows that you want to know what he wants in life, what he would rather do instead of claiming those life. But in this very moment there is only one thing he can think of, only one thing he truly wants. 

“I want you. I want you on my cock.”

Slight shock makes your body go rigid, your breathing ragged. You pull back sharply.

Astonishment fills every fiber of your body because you have expected a lot, but not this. Never this. You can smell his arousal, feel his desire stretch out but you would have never guessed he would ask for this, would use such vulgar wording.

Azriel must have noticed your surprise, his face turns grim, eyes losing their fire. He looks almost worried for a moment, his skin turning even colder. 

You want to show him that this is exactly what you want. That you have been yearning for this since the moment he stepped into your house. You need him, need Death to consume you, claim you in another way he normally did with mortals. 

You brush your thumb over his chin, eyes following the movement and suck your lower lip between your teeth. You lift your gaze to his, lips slightly parting when your hand moves to the ties of your dressing gown. Pulling on them, you manage to shrug your dressing gown of, leaving you just in a tiny slip, that accentuates your curves and nearly has the shadowy male panting. 

“Beg.”

It is a whispered command that slips through your lips when you climb onto his lap, your thighs caging his. A wicked grin spreads over your lips, feral delight aglow in your eyes. Azriel’s mirrors this fire of desire, of pure, primal lust. 

 “And plead.”

You fully lower yourself to his hips, hands sliding over his shoulders, arms curling around his neck. 

“Beg for me just like you love to hear people beg to you. Plead that I give you exactly what you want. What you,” —your lips are mere inches from his— “desire.”

Your chest heaves, brushing against his toned chest covered by the thin cloak he’s wearing. You feel how tense his muscles are and lean back, watching the tendons stand out on his neck, how tight his skin appears all of a sudden and how his eyes are blazed with lust. 

You roll your hips, rubbing against him when Azriel leans forward and brushes his nose over your skin. You can feel his passion just as acute as your own.

You are playing with darkness, and Azriel, he would consume you. And this is all you want.

"Death and life have never been that close, have they?" His breath is a cold whisper along the side of your neck. The press of his hips against your own offers another proof of his desire, his erection hard against your softest parts. But he hasn’t given you an answer and you don’t like that. Hand coming up, your grab a fistful of hair at the nape of his neck.

“Beg,” you order, getting impatient. 

“Please,” he hisses through gritted teeth. His nostrils flare, his heated gaze caressing your skin. And so you have Death begging for you. For your mercy. It is a sinister delight that comes alive inside of you, making you feel powerful, strong and ruthless. 

“Please what?” You nip at his jaw, tasting his icy skin. This is a sin. The worst of all sins.

You grin when you hear him groan, his hips rubbing against yours. Although he loves your control over him, he decides that two can play this game. He also decides that, just for a moment longer, he lets you believe that these restraints could actually hold him, hold Death.

When his hardest parts press against your softest, so perfectly fitting, Azriel is rewarded with the breath catching in your throat.

“Please…kiss me, fuck me. Claim me. Make me yours.” 

He breathing is ragged, chest heaving with sharp inhales. “I, Death, Destroyer of Lives, surrender to you. I am fully yours.”

You have planned on teasing him more, making him beg and plead more, but your restraint is shredded, that very moment. There is only one thing on your mind: need. You need him. On you. In you. All over you.

His surrender is your undoing, proof that Death is willing to give his all to you. He lets you have control and despite how twisted this situation seems, your heart warms at this thought. 

One hand parting his cloak and sliding over the laces of his pants, you pull them open. His already rigid length springs free immediately and your mouth waters at his size, his thickness–he is beautiful. 

Azriel must have noticed your slight hesitation because he says, “No worries, we both know you can handle this.” 

You lift yourself up, hovering, fingers curling around his length to ease the tip into you. Something low in your belly clenches, your wet heat welcoming him. Azriel slides fully into your, a gasp parting both your lips when your bodies become flush with the other, merge, become one, come together. You take a short moment to adjust, to angle your hips and then you move. 

“Yes,” Azriel pants. “Yes, that's it. Fuck, yes.” His voice, the deep tenor reverberating through you, has the hair on your body standing, your toes curling. You moan loudly, the stretch of your walls from his cock on the edge of painful. But it does not hurt, it feels good, better than anything you have ever felt before.

“I…have never felt like that. Nothing…nothing can compare to this.”

And although he is death, a cruel monster in the eyes of most, Azriel feels alive for the very first time. Having you bounce on his cock, makes all sinister parts of his life fill with light. All he has done in his life has been that way so he could meet you. Fate has brought him here, and he will stay. With you. You are his.

Driven by lust, Azriel’s tongue latches over your right nipple, the short nightgown having slipped down your chest. You grab his shoulders, head thrown back, riding him. You cry out in pleasure, a mix of curses slipping through your lips. Azriel feels himself getting closer, your sinful sounds his most favourite music from now on.

And he knows, at the back of his mind he knows, that he doesn’t hear them for the last time today. He will hear them a lot from now on. You have entered into something there is no escaping from. You have let Death enter your house, your body. You are bound to him–his forever. Because there is no one apart from you that accepts Death likes this. That sees him, sees him for more than he is believed and he will never let you go, no matter what. 

“I want you to come with my name on your lips.”

You angle your hips, letting him hit that one damnable spot inside of you with every thrust. His name–unknown to mortals.

“Azriel.”

Azriel. The name hollows through your mind. It sounds so beautiful and he has told you his name. You are the first mortal to ever know of his name and this, even though it has been spoken and revealed in frenzy, does something to you. Your walls clench tighter around him, riding him harder.

A moan parts your lips, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Azriel.”

It is a breathy whisper, and Azriel knows that this…his name on your lips is his end, the most erotic thing he has ever heard, his weakness. You are his weakness. 

He rips through the bindings, loosening every restraint that has formerly holding him back. Azriel’s hips jerk up, his pants sliding down to his knees and before you can comprehend what is happening he has you pinned underneath him on the harsh wooden floor, pounding into you mercilessly, his large body covering yours. His hips slap against yours with deep, quick thrusts. The sounds are wet, your high-pitched moans and pants the only things that are louder.

And then you fall apart, Death is their to catch you, to hold you, guide you through your height. He follows right after, his hot release spurting of your walls, his hips meeting your with sloppy thrust. Azriel’s lips capture yours in another bruising kiss, he is not down yet. 

Hours later, Azriel still hovers over your, damp strands of hair sticking toppling over his forehead.

“Come with me. Come to the Hewn City with me. Become my queen.”

It should have been a difficult decision, but it isn’t. There is only one correct answer.

“Yes.”

And so Death has found his queen. He sweeps you up, his cloak wrapping around him, taking you with him to the Hewn City, his territory where you will be granted immortality, where you will rule next to him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123

Azriel x Reader Oneshot

Some fluffy late night talk with azzy✨⭐️

Warnings: noneee EXCEPT i literally didn’t edit this at all, i just had to get it posted. so beware and i’m so so sorry. 🫣

You hadn’t meant to spend so long up on the balcony, but the stars seemed to keep your thoughts in an endless conversation. The other members of the Inner Circle had dispersed after an evening full of wine and food, but you had hung behind waiting on your mate. One thought led to another, until you found yourself curled up on the outdoor sofa, staring up into a sky that seemed to go on forever.

You weren’t sure you’d ever get over the view. Tiny bursts of life filling a vast sea of black. The stars were so willing to allow the people who lived here to witness their beauty every night. A beauty you weren’t sure anyone here deserved, but were all damn grateful to see.

“I didn’t realize you were still down here. You should be sleeping. ”

Your head peaked behind the back of the couch, finding the eyes of the infamous Shadowsinger. He had gone off to speak with Rhys about his latest intel, needing to share it while it was fresh on his mind. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his pants, a fitted black long sleeve covered his impressive frame. As casual as he ever dressed himself, usually preferring his leathers and arsenal of weapons strapped to him.

He had been in a rare form tonight, having just returned from a mission that kept him away from home- away from you- longer than he wanted. The Spymaster spoke openly the whole night, laughing and joking with the whole table. Enjoying the much needed family time.

You liked seeing that side of him. Multiple times throughout the night you caught yourself simply marveling at him. He’d caught your eyes a few times, offering a smug smirk in response before returning to the conversation in front of him. Cheeky shit.

You didn’t mind it though. You were in love with that smirk. In love with the way he spoke. The way he laughed. Hell, you weren’t sure there was anything you didn’t love seeing him do.

“It’s not hard to lose sleep when there’s a view like this waiting for me every night.”

Azriel nodded, looking out over the balcony for a moment before he came to seat himself next to you. You moved your legs underneath yourself, allowing Azriel to press up against you as your head fell against his shoulder.

“Cassian was acting a fool tonight, im surprised Nesta didn’t cut him off sooner.”

You snorted at that. “You’re surprised? Im sure Nesta enjoys Cassian plenty when he’s too wasted. He gets a hundred times hornier.”

Your mate laughed, a delish sound falling out of his lips as his head fell back against the cushion. Cassian must have finished at least two bottles of Rhysands wine by himself, much to your high lords dismay. “Yes, i suppose that’s true. I guess we should count ourselves lucky he was sober enough to fly them back to the Townhouse tonight.”

You laughed once more, shaking you head as you thought about your friends. You loved them dearly, but couldn’t deny the sigh of relief you let out when they had decided to spend the night at the Townhouse instead of the House of Wind, sparing their friends the torture of having to listen to them well into the early hours.

“You haven’t told me how your mission went, or what exactly you were doing on it.”

Azriel kissed the side of your head, sighing as his hands tugged at your own, toying with the pads of your fingers. “ mm, let’s talk about it tomorrow. Let me enjoy the night sky with my mate.”

You wouldn’t argue with him, couldn’t argue with him- Not when those dark, angelic eyes met your own. How could you deny your mate of anything when he was so perfect?

You gave a look of contemplation, before finally sighing dramatically. “ Fine. You’re off the hook for now. Have you finished that book i lent you?”

Azriel hummed in response, head lazily leaning to one side. “ I did. I was surprised with the ending, in a good way. “

“ I know, it was out of nowhere. But that’s what i like about the author. “

He smiled when your eyes lit up, like they always did when you talked about books. “I’d like to read more from him. We should start the next one together.”

You shifted, burrowing yourself closer to his side. You blinked slow, body and soul finally feeling at peace now that your mate was back with you. “ Tomorrow, we can go to that bookstore down by the river and grab the next books.”

Azriel held you closer, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “ It’s a date.” His eyes closed.

You could barely keep your eyes open now. “ I love you. I missed you. I’m glad you’re home.”

“Is that your way of telling me you’re going to sleep?” Azriel mused, one eye lifting up to peak down at the girl in his arms.

You had already dozed off. Azriel kissed the top of your head one more time, before shifting your bodies. He now held you on top of him, your legs tangling with his.

“ Sweet dreams, baby.”

hahahaaaa hiiii again! I can’t believe i was so excited to start writing content like this, and then just went completely MIA. Life got crazy! But i wanted to get this one out, and hopefully start working on another one.

ho ho holy shit it’s december first (1st)

You were born into this world as a survivor. You had survived the wrath of Amarantha. Had survived watching your whole family being picked off one by one during the war with Hybern. Had picked yourself back up, brushed off your shoulders and started a new day.

You took great pride in your ability to swallow the pain and avoid making others around you taste it. It was a burden that was yours alone.

If you could appear put together from the outside, soon enough those feelings would be the same within yourself. You just had to keep surviving.

Then, there were days like today.

Days where you would wake up with such a weight in your bones, it seemed impossible to lift yourself out of bed. Your mate was already long gone, Azriel’s days started early at the training ring with the Valkyrie. Training you usually joined in on.

There was a pull against your mind, Azriel reaching out for you. He was wondering where you were, why you hadn’t made your way to him yet. To training. You felt pathetic for letting yourself feel this way.

You barely had the energy to shoot a small comforting feeling back towards him. Finally, you hoisted your body out of bed, and forced yourself to dress.

___

If anyone noticed you were acting differently during training, they were polite enough not to mention it. Movements that usually came to you so easily, were a struggle today. Your mind couldn’t focus on anything, you seemed to lag behind the group.

If Azriel hadn’t taken notice to your sullen mood, the lack of light that usually graced your face, he would have been calling you out. Questioning why the movements were so sloppy today. Why you seemed so distant from the tasks in front of you.

You were thankful then, that some hearts understood each other even in silence. He let you be, didn’t pry on you in front of everybody.

He had saved his questioning for after the last of the priestesses had finally left the ring, leaving you to continue to throw weak hits at one of the practice dummy’s. You didn’t deserve to be finished yet, and hadn’t exhausted yourself enough to ebb some of this pain away.

He braced against the one of the weapon racks, arms crossing over his chest as he watched you continue to throw your punches. You had worked up a good enough sweat now, your cheeks flushed from the continuous movement.

“Want to tell me what’s going on in that head of yours?”

no.

Another punch.

You needed to respond. You just didn’t trust your voice enough not to crack once you started speaking.

“Y/N.”

Another punch.

“You know i am here, right?”

He took a step towards you. You didn’t stop, didn’t acknowledge him. Your whole body was screaming at you to spill it all out, beg him to hold you, ask for support.

“Whether you want to talk to me or not. I am here for you.”

Another punch.

He released a sigh.

The shadowsinger turned and walked away then, ready to leave you be to figure this out on your own. Ready to let you shut him out, he would try not to take it to heart if you couldn’t speak to him. He understood how hard it was.

He was always making an effort to communicate, tried to be as open as he could be for his mate. While you had stayed in silent with what hurt you. Swallowing it whole and trying to carry on.

Your fist finally stopped. Your chest heaving as you looked up at the sky helplessly, then towards your mates fleeting figure.

“ Everything still haunts me.”

Azriel paused mid step, turning to look at you with his eyes before his whole body followed. He looked surprised that you had stopped him. That you had even spoken out loud.

“No matter how hard i try to swallow it. Everything *still* haunts me. “ You laughed at yourself then, a small pitiful sound. “Everything consumes me sometimes.“

“Y/N..” Azriel came closer, closing the distance between the two of you, finally.

You couldn’t meet his eyes, couldn’t swallow the choked sound that tore from your lips at the onslaught of emotions, at how gentle he sounded. “ I do not understand why I had to go through so much. Why it had to be me the cauldron gave all this to. It is killing me from the inside out. I just can’t-”

He caught her chin with his fingers, angling her head up to finally force their eyes together.

He hated the brokenness he saw within her irises. He wished more than anything that he could take it all away for her.

“You are allowed to fall apart, Love. You do not have to carry all of this on your own.” She didn’t realize how badly she needed to hear those words.

“It’s okay to feel angry, it’s okay if you want to set the world on fire, or hide yourself away from it all. Whatever you need, just let me help you.” Azriel pleaded.

You finally released your tears, practically falling into his arms. He was ready to catch, allowing you to wrap yourself around him while a straggled cry fell from your lips.

Strong hands tangled into your hair as he closed himself around you, wings flaring out to the sides as he cocooned you into him. His lips pressed into your hair, as Azriel allowed you to break in his arms. Every emotion releasing out of you in waves.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there clinging to him, letting go of everything you had pent up inside of you. Azriel would have stayed there with you all night, if that’s what you needed.

Your body had finally slowed down. A wave of relief washing over you. You felt yourself truly breathe for the first time all day.

And in that moment, although you couldn’t be sure what true peace was, you assumed it felt a lot like being in his arms.

New post!! I hope you all enjoy :))