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em---r · 4 months ago

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Black Widow

pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: In the heart of Velaris, a woman with no past builds a quiet life, hiding extraordinary abilities beneath the guise of an ordinary teacher. But when fate pulls her into the path of a shadow-drenched warrior, the lines between the life she’s created and the mysteries of who she truly is begin to blur. A night of reckless passion turns into an unexpected entanglement, forcing her to confront not only the secrets buried within herself but the undeniable pull toward a male who sees more than she’s willing to reveal. As tension simmers and desire collides with destiny, one question remains—can she outrun the past that threatens to catch up with her, or will it unravel everything she’s fought so hard to build?

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content warnings: angst, attack, talk of murder, feelings of hopelessness, worthlessness, despair

word count: 2.5k

Permanent taglist: @motheroffae @tele86 @demon-master-zero @thegoddessofnothingness @rosecobollway @sillyfreakfanparty @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @plants-w0rld @frietiemeloen @the-hidey-hole @dnfhascorruptedme @lreadsstuff

Azriel permanent taglist: @kathren1sky-blog @phoenix666stuff @breathingstarlight

Story taglist: @casiiopea2 @shylahstarzz @aceepee @epicsweetness712 @quiettuba @rcarbo1@scatteredstardustt @jennigsonl @salvatoresister1

If you would like to be added to a permanent taglist, permanent character taglist or story taglist, please leave me a comment and let me know which taglist you want to be on!

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Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

*****

Chapter 8

Azriel stood there, frozen, his breath sharp and uneven as the air in the alley settled around him.

You were gone.

Taken.

And he had let it happen.

His hands curled into fists, his knuckles aching from how hard he clenched them. His wings tensed at his back, his entire body coiled in agony.

An agony that was worse than any physical wound he'd ever endured.

His shadows swirled restlessly, whispering, urging him to move, to go after you.

But he couldn’t move.

Because all he could see, all he could hear…

Were those words.

"Our little Y/N is an assassin."

"She gets paid to kill people—whether they deserve to die or not."

"With her powers, she is the perfect assassin."

And the image, the fucking image, of you shifting, of you taking on the face of the woman his spies had warned him about, the woman who had been coming for Rhysand…

The woman he had just made love to.

The woman who had wrapped herself in his sheets.

Who had whispered his name like it meant something.

Who had looked into his eyes and told him she loved him.

Azriel let out a slow, shaky breath, his heart pounding violently in his chest.

Had it all been a lie?

Had your amnesia, your tears, your desperation, your fear…

Had it all been a trap?

Had it all been part of a grander plan?

A scheme to infiltrate the Inner Circle, to worm your way into his arms, into his heart just so you could get close enough to kill Rhysand?

Azriel's stomach twisted, a sharp, ugly feeling coiling around his ribs.

And now the bond had snapped into place.

His mating bond.

To you.

A killer.

A liar.

A mystery.

A monster.

His mate.

A shattered, broken sound left his lips, his breath stuttering painfully as he raked a hand through his hair.

"Everything about you is a lie."

He had said that to you.

And maybe it was true.

Or maybe you truly hadn't known.

Maybe your memories really had been taken from you.

Maybe the girl who had curled into his chest at night, who had let her shadows twine with his, who had cried from nightmares she couldn't understand…

Maybe that had been real.

And yet, he had let you go.

Let some stranger winnow you away.

Without lifting a finger to stop it.

Because the truth was, he had been too stunned, too angry, too betrayed to react.

But the bond in his chest screamed.

Howled.

Demanded he find you.

To get you back.

To tear through whoever had taken you and drag you back into his arms, whether to punish you or protect you, he didn’t even fucking know anymore.

But then his own thoughts turned.

Turned on himself.

Because how different was he?

How different were you from him?

Azriel had killed, too.

He had taken lives without question.

He had slit throats, tortured, winnowed in and out of places unseen, leaving bodies in his wake.

He had done terrible things in the name of protecting his family, his court.

And he had never once stopped to ask if he was any better than the people he killed.

So why did he feel so betrayed by what you had been?

What was it that made you a monster when he had done the same?

Because it was you.

Because it was you and it hurt.

Because it was you and it wasn’t supposed to be this way.

Because you were his mate.

And now you were gone.

A ragged breath tore from his lungs, his wings drooping heavily at his back.

His mate.

His mate had been taken.

And he had done nothing.

*****

Azriel barely remembered the flight back to the House of Wind.

His mind was a raging storm, a vicious, untamed thing that threatened to consume him whole. His shadows were restless, curling and twisting around him like they were trying to hold him together, to keep him from falling apart.

But he was already shattered.

By the time his boots hit the stone floor of the House of Wind, his body was taut, coiled with tension, every muscle strung so tight he thought he might snap in half.

He barely registered the hallways, the doors, the lanterns flickering in the dim light of nightfall. He barely noticed anything at all except for the pounding ache in his chest, the bond screaming through him, demanding he go after you.

But how could he, when he didn’t even know what was real anymore?

His feet carried him straight to the study.

He found Rhysand and Cassian inside, their heads turning immediately as he entered.

Cassian was lounging in one of the armchairs, a glass of whiskey in his hand, casual—until he saw Azriel’s face. Then he straightened, eyes narrowing.

Rhysand was behind his desk, sharp, calculating violet eyes locking onto him immediately.

"Az," Rhys murmured, his voice calm but laced with concern. "Are you alright?"

Azriel said nothing.

He barely heard his brother add, "Feyre told me about Y/N. She said she wasn’t feeling well today, that something felt off. So you went to check on her, I assume?"

Azriel swallowed hard.

"I found her."

His voice came out low, rough, strained, like the words were being ripped from his chest.

Cassian frowned, setting his drink down.

"What happened?"

Azriel’s wings twitched, his siphons glowed faintly, and then—

He told them everything.

Everything that had happened in that alleyway.

"She was talking to a male." His voice was tight, clipped. "A male who knew her. Who called her ‘Little Killer.’"

Rhysand and Cassian both stilled.

"And then he threw a knife at her."

Cassian’s eyes widened, and Rhys’s entire body locked up.

"She caught it," Azriel continued, "by the blade. It sliced into her palm. She didn’t even flinch."

Rhysand’s expression darkened.

"Who was he?" he demanded.

Azriel exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his hair.

"At first, I thought he was her betrothed." His voice was grim, as if saying the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. "Because of the note she had when she woke up in that alley. The one congratulating her on her engagement."

Rhys’s eyes narrowed. "And was he?"

Azriel let out a low, bitter laugh.

"No."

A long pause.

"The note wasn’t about marriage. It was about a job."

Cassian cursed under his breath.

"The engagement wasn’t a proposal," Azriel said quietly. "It was an acknowledgment that she was locked on target. Ready to make a kill."

A heavy silence filled the room.

Cassian’s face hardened, and Rhysand—Rhysand barely moved.

"And who," Rhysand finally said, his voice a deadly, quiet thing, "was she in Velaris to kill?"

Azriel met his brother’s eyes.

"You, Rhys."

Rhysand’s entire body went still.

Cassian sat back hard, staring at Azriel like he hadn’t heard him right.

Azriel’s throat worked, but he forced himself to keep going.

"According to the male, her powers are stronger than yours. She can mist people. She can go into minds and make people kill themselves. She can command her shadows to help her."

His voice dropped into something grim, something haunted.

"She is very powerful."

Rhysand said nothing.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

Cassian finally muttered, "Shit."

Azriel only continued.

"And she can shift," he added, his voice a thread away from breaking. "Not into creatures. Into people. She can change her face at will. Kill and leave without a trace."

That was when Rhysand finally spoke.

"You said she was locked onto me."

It wasn’t a question.

Azriel nodded once, sharply.

"My spies warned me," he admitted, his stomach twisting at the memory. "They told me she was coming for you. But they never found her. They only knew she existed. That she was dangerous. And when she shifted in front of me, I knew her face. The face she was wearing throughout Velaris while coming for you."

Rhys exhaled slowly, his eyes dark.

"But she didn’t do it," Cassian said. "Why didn’t she go through with it?"

Azriel’s throat worked, his jaw clenching.

Rhysand and Cassian both stared at him.

"Why?" Rhys asked.

Azriel’s heart pounded painfully.

"Because of Nyx," he said, his voice raw. "She refused to leave a child without a father."

A flicker of something unreadable passed over Rhysand’s face.

"And then what?"

Azriel exhaled sharply.

"Then the bond snapped."

Cassian sucked in a sharp breath, and Rhysand stiffened.

"Right there," Azriel said, his voice trembling. "As I was learning all of this about her. The bond snapped into place."

"And what did she do?" Cassian asked, his voice careful.

Azriel let out a slow, shaking breath.

"She begged me to listen."

Rhys’s brows furrowed.

"She told me she didn’t know about her past. That she would have told me if she had known. That she was just as lost as I was."

His throat worked.

"And I didn’t listen."

The words cracked in the air between them.

Cassian and Rhysand exchanged a glance.

*"I felt so—" Azriel broke off, shaking his head, his breath uneven. "I felt so betrayed. I told her to save it. I asked her how she could do this to me."

A pause.

"I told her everything about her was a lie."

Rhys’s violet eyes darkened with something like understanding.

Cassian rubbed his hands over his face.

"And then?"

Azriel swallowed hard.

"And then the male winnowed her away." His voice shook, thick with something awful.

"And I let him."

A long, heavy silence.

Cassian cursed under his breath again.

Rhysand stared at him, hard and assessing.

"Az," Rhys finally murmured. "Do you think she was telling the truth?"

Azriel exhaled sharply, shaking his head.

"I don’t know," he admitted, his voice a rough whisper. "I don’t fucking know, Rhys."

*****

The stench of rot and decay filled your lungs as you were dragged through the underground tunnels of Hewn City.

The seediest, most depraved part of the court.

The place where people vanished, where the screams never reached the surface, where even the wicked feared to tread too long.

You didn’t struggle as the guards, your boss’s dogs, hauled you into the darkness.

Didn’t fight when they held you firmly against the damp stone wall and shoved a syringe into your neck, injecting you with Faebane, the liquid fire burning through your veins as your magic was immediately ripped away from you.

Your shadows - gone.

Your ability to mist - gone.

Your ability to shift, to winnow, to enter minds - all stolen from you.

You barely flinched.

What was the point?

You deserved this.

Didn’t you?

You were thrown into a small, damp cell, the heavy iron bars clanking shut behind you.

The floor was cold, the scent of blood, old and new, lingering in the air.

The stench of vomit and urine reeking in the corners.

You sat there in the dark, your breathing slow, steady, resigned.

Because if this was how it ended…

Then so be it.

Maybe this was always going to happen.

Maybe this was always where you were meant to end up.

For every life you’d taken.

Gods, how many had there been?

You didn’t know.

Only one death lived in your mind.

The man on the boat.

The dagger in his throat.

The weight of his body as you shoved him into the ocean, watching as the water swallowed him whole.

A life you had taken with such ease.

And that was all you could remember.

You leaned your head back against the wall, staring at the dark ceiling above you, wondering if, before they killed you, they might tell you the truth.

Tell you everything.

Just so you could die knowing.

But it didn’t really matter, did it?

You weren’t that person anymore.

At least…

At least you didn’t want to be.

And yet, you had hurt Azriel.

Your mate.

A sharp, piercing pain cut through your chest at the thought of him.

At the way he had looked at you before you were winnowed away.

Cold.

Hateful.

Like you were a stranger.

"Everything about you is a lie."

You squeezed your eyes shut, a ragged breath shuddering out of you.

You shouldn’t have let yourself get close.

You should have kept him at a distance, kept your walls up, just like you always did.

Because now, you had shattered him.

You had ruined the one good thing in your life.

And the worst part?

You had wanted this.

You had hoped for the bond with him since the moment you’d met him.

Since that night at Rita’s, when his shadows had curled toward you, when something in you had felt so drawn to him, to his presence, to his voice, to his eyes.

It felt like fate had put him in your path.

And maybe it had.

But now you were sure he was trying to find a way out of it.

Trying to find a way to break the bond.

And how could you blame him?

Who would want to be mated to a monster?

To someone who did not even know herself?

A small, bitter laugh left your lips.

Maybe he had never really meant it.

Maybe when he had promised to fight for you, when he had told you nothing about your past would matter, when he had said he wouldn’t change his mind…

Maybe those were just words.

Because in the end, he had done what everyone else had done.

He had left.

He had let you go.

And you couldn’t even blame him for it.

You curled in on yourself, pressing your forehead against your knees, your body shaking with the weight of it all.

The weight of who you were.

Of who you had been.

And of who you would never get the chance to be.

Because you knew, deep down…

This cell?

This place?

It was your grave.

Chapter 9

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em---r · 4 months ago

Text

Stolen Light

Bucky x hurt! reader

The hum of the fluorescent lights overhead was the only sound in the otherwise silent lab. You leaned over the workbench, brows furrowed in concentration as your fingers traced the strange etchings on the alien weapon’s surface. Tony had asked for your expertise, but even you weren’t sure what you were dealing with yet. The metal pulsed faintly beneath your touch, as if it were alive.

You exhaled, rubbing at your tired eyes. It was well past midnight, and you knew Bucky would be worried. He always was when you worked late. You smiled at the thought—your grumpy soldier turned soft for you. He was the only one who could pull you away from your work with just a look, the only one who could convince you to rest.

Just as you reached for your communicator to send him a quick message, the lights flickered. A deep, guttural growl echoed through the lab, freezing you in place. The air turned thick, heavy with the presence of something unnatural.

Slowly, you turned.

A towering figure loomed in the doorway, eyes glowing a sickly yellow. The weapon vibrated violently beneath your hand, reacting to its true owner.

“Oh, shit.”

Before you could move, the alien lunged.

The compound shook with the force of the blast.

Bucky was in the common room with Steve and Sam when the alarms blared, a cold dread seizing his chest. He didn’t need to be told where the explosion had come from—he already knew.

“(Y/N),” he breathed, already sprinting toward the lab.

The sight that greeted him made his stomach drop.

Shattered glass, overturned tables, and a gaping hole in the lab’s reinforced walls. But the worst part—the part that made his blood run ice cold—was the pool of blood staining the floor.

“No,” he whispered, voice strangled.

His hands shook as he crouched down, fingers brushing over the still-warm blood. Your blood. His vision blurred, heart hammering wildly in his chest.

Steve’s voice was distant, muffled, as he barked out orders. Sam was already scanning the security footage, but Bucky couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

She’s gone. They took her.

He’d let himself love you. Let himself believe he could have something good. And now—now he might have lost you.

The alien’s ship was located two hours later. It wasn’t soon enough.

Bucky had barely let the Quinjet land before he was leaping out, sprinting toward the structure where the signal led. The others barely kept up, but he didn’t care. He had to get to you.

They found you strapped to a metal slab, restraints biting into your wrists. Blood coated your torn shirt, fresh wounds marring your skin. You were barely conscious, eyes fluttering weakly as the alien loomed over you, preparing to strike again.

Bucky saw red.

The alien barely had time to react before Bucky was on him, metal fist colliding with bone with a sickening crunch. He didn’t stop—not when the creature roared in pain, not when Steve yelled for him to stand down.

It was only when he felt your weak fingers brush his own that he froze. Steve must have freed her when he had the chance.

“B-Bucky?” your voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. You were hunched over, on your knees.

His heart clenched painfully at how broken you sounded. He turned to you immediately, cradling your face with shaking hands. “I’m here, doll. I got you.”

You tried to smile, but it quickly turned into a wince. “Took you… long enough.”

Bucky let out a strangled laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “You scared the hell outta me.”

Your fingers curled weakly around his wrist. “Didn’t mean to.”

His throat tightened. “You're never working on one of Tony's projects again. Ever.”

You hummed softly, eyes slipping shut. Bucky panicked, shaking you lightly. “Hey, no, stay with me. You hear me? We’re going home.”

He quickly scooped you up, letting your head rest on his shoulder. Bucky's heart ached at the sight, and he subconsciously pulled you closer to him, vowing to never let you out of his sight.

Back at the compound, it was hours before you woke up. Bucky never left your side, metal fingers intertwined with yours as he watched the steady rise and fall of your chest. Steve had tried to lighten to mood by joking that Bucky was far too overprotective, that he was too much like a lost puppy; but he quickly realised that Bucky was not paying attention, and he left.

When your eyes finally fluttered open, he exhaled deeply, relief washing over him like a tidal wave.

“Hey,” you croaked, voice still weak.

Bucky leaned in, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “Hey yourself.”

“You look like hell,” you teased weakly.

Bucky huffed a laugh, but his eyes were still clouded with worry. “You almost died.”

You squeezed his hand, offering a tired smile. “But I didn’t.”

His jaw clenched, emotions warring in his gaze. “I can’t lose you,” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t lose the only person I know I can trust, I know I can love.”

You tugged on his hand until he hesitantly leaned down, resting his forehead against yours. You sighed, reveling in the familiar warmth of him.

“You won’t,” you promised. “I’m right here.”

Bucky swallowed hard, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Yeah,” he murmured. “And I’m never letting you go.”

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