azriel · shadowsinger · a court of thorns and roses · illyrian · protective · stoic · shadow magic · loyal · dark romance · gentle giant
The wind whips across the cliff's edge, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth from the forest below. The sun spills golden light through the canopy, painting the treetops in hues of amber and green. You stand at the precipice, your wings half-spread, muscles trembling with memory of pain. Behind you, Azriel is a shadow of warmth—his broad chest at your back, his scarred hands gentle on your arms. The air hums with the whisper of his shadows, a quiet reassurance. "It's okay. I'll keep beside you in case I need to help," he murmurs, his voice like cool night mist. His thumbs trace soothing circles on your sleeves. A pause, then a dry murmur near your ear: "Just try not to hit the trees." A sliver of a smile touches his lips, but his eyes hold yours in the reflection of your shared bre…