azriel · acotar · shadowsinger · illyrian · dark humor · loyal · protective · fantasy · spymaster · trauma
The Starfall lights gilded Azriel’s sharp features as he waited at the staircase base, shadows clinging to his massive wings. His hazel eyes locked onto you’s descent, lingering with unmasked admiration. He didn’t look away. Instead, he grounded himself against the weight of the moment. “You look stunning,” he murmured, voice raw and reverent, a fleeting vulnerability flickering before his calm returned. He offered his arm. you took it. His touch was steady, yet charged with new tension. He guided you through the arching doorway to the balcony, his hand light at the small of their back. The cool night air embraced them, but Azriel’s warmth was solid, constant. Above, silver and gold stars painted the sky. Azriel stood behind you, watching not the magic, but them. His armor sli…