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highladyof-prythian · 3 years ago

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Chapter 1- Clipped Wings

Art Credits to: @heyovivi

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: After Tamlin helps Y/N out of his fathers grasp. He fakes her death and helps her disappear. But what happens when she reappears and reconnects with the Inner Circle and her brother.

Warnings: Severe Trauma, Blood, Gore, Crying. Please Do Not Read If You Are Not Comfortable With Any Of These Topics.

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The wood creaked under her as she was softly pressed up against the walls of the weapons shed. Her wings carefully spread across the wall and Y/N peered up at the tall male in front of her and smirked. This is the last thing she expected from the shy shadowsinger her brother considered as one of his closest and most trusted friends.

“You can’t leave.” His large hands grasped her biceps, soothingly rubbing his thumb in circles. “I- I just want to talk with you for a little longer. Hold you until the sun rises.”

“Az-” Her smirk dropped and her gaze softened into something unrecognizable to herself.

“Please. I don’t know when the next time we will be able to sneak away for a little while. But I want to spend whatever time we have left together.” Azriel leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. He breathed in deeply and closed his eyes.

“I can’t. My mother will start to look for me and Rhys will be right there with her. I don't want to imagine what they’ll do when they see us like this.” She smiled sweetly and nudged his nose with her own. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

Y/N begrudgingly placed her hands on top of his and painfully peeled his hands from her arms. Azriel dropped his hands to his sides and kept his head lowered. Her heart broke from the scene but she knew that she had to go now, or her heart would never allow her to leave this forsaken camp.

Her father had requested both her and her mother back to court to seperate them from Rhys.

Saying he had agreed to their mother sending him there to learn how to be a warrior, but our constant presence with him in the camp was of no help with his image as the son of the High Lord of the Night Court.

Y/N knew that her father had always tried his best to disconnect Rhysand with the world. Allowing him to train in the camps was a mercy compared to the isolation he actually wanted for him. Cauldron knows he knew exactly where to hurt his son: through his chosen family. Even if he had to get rid of his daughter and mate to get his way.

“I’ll be back Az.” The royal reassured, grabbing a nearby weapon. “Only to know that my personal trainer will be here waiting to show me some new techniques.” She threw open the door and looked over her shoulder one more time before fully leaving and threw a blushing Azriel a soft smile.

“Wait for me okay?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Y/N!” A voice shouted from outside the shed. “Mother has been looking everywhere for you. She doesn’t want to delay your trip back any longer.”

“I’m going I’m going!”

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“The anticipation is killing me!” Yelled Y/N from the head of her group traveling towards the Illyrian war-camp. “My brother promised to teach me how to winnow further than the mere feet I can do. Can you imagine the places I’ll see? The people I’ll meet, the history I can learn. My heart is on the verge of bursting through my chest.”

Light hearted laughs passed through the group. Y/N’s mother lowered her head and let out a slight snort. She only hid that way when she tried to maintain her mysterious aura between Lady of the Night Court and amused mother. The latter usually broke her cold demeanor and brought bright smiles to her children.

Very ladylike mother.

A soft laugh passed through Y/N’s mind.

I have no idea what you're talking about.

All I’m saying is that I would have had to sharpened swords and re-oiled all of the saddles if-

A piercing shriek rang out from the trailing group behind the duo. Everyone and the animals froze and waited until they could make out what just happened or to see what caused it. The light blizzard blew unwelcomingly between everyone. After a couple of seconds a frenzy of panicked guards started to move and try to take cover and grab weapons from the wagon.

“Please my Lady, take cover.”

The Lady of the Night Court grabbed onto her dagger she strapped onto her hip and pulled her daughter into her.

“Whatever happens, just run. Rhysand should be here soon, we’re closer to the halfway mark we were going to meet at.”

“No.” Her daughter shook her head. “I’ll stay here with you. With everyone.”

The wind brought the strong scent of bloodlust and sent a shiver down their spines. They turned their backs to each other and surveyed the area around them. There wasn’t much to see besides the distant mountains and the snow covered trees. Everything was too similar for her to assess what hid in these woods. Not everything can be perfect.

Y/N ran her violet eyes over and over the trees until she could see the faint outline of someone perched carefully in between some trees. She went to nudge her mom with her wings, careful not to take her eyes off the enemy. Nearly tipping over she turned around when she didn’t feel her mother.

Mother!

The Lady of the Night Court was nowhere to be seen. A panicked Y/N walked around to where she knew the rest of the guards were and nearly threw up from the scene. Her jaw slackened and the breath caught in her throat. They were all viciously slaughtered.

The mangled bodies were piled onto each other and were stripped of their clothes. No. The clothes were ripped from them. Claw marks ran through each of them, from their torsos, backs, and throats. She turned her head and muttered a prayer quickly under her breath. No ordinary warrior would have been able to take down their group of high trained warriors and do so silently. Who was here with them in these woods? And why would they target them?

Y/N looked again to the group and could see a girl no older than her and saw her pain stricken face. The girl's mouth hung open and her eyes wide as they could be. This must have been who gave out the first yell of warning. An arrow pierced through her throat and shined with drying blood. The red of blood contrasted so differently to the clean snow around them. No snow stuck onto the bodies yet as their bodies were still warm with their fresh blood. Y/N had to lower her head as she imagined their chests still moving, struggling to take breaths.

“What do we have here?” A dark voice chuckled behind Y/N.

She whipped her head so fast at the same time her hands went to the sword strapped onto her back.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Another voice said behind her again. “I would much rather you alive for when we bring you to our father.”

“Who are you both? And why are you here?” Snarled the violet eyed royal. She sidestepped quickly to have a look at both men. They wore thick green coats and boots made from the richest of browns. Their startling green eyes held such animosity that she couldn’t help but naturally go to square off her shoulders and plant her feet solidly under her. Both men grinned when they caught her measuring them up.

“Don’t try anything funny. Just come with us and we might let you live.” The eldest said casually kicking the dead body next to him. “Your mother would like to see you now. She’s been waiting long enough. As well as our father.”

“You’re a fool if you think I’ll willingly go with the both of you. And even dumber if you think I’ll go without a fight.” Y/N asserted before fully unsheathing the blade on her back. The cold steel balanced perfectly in her hands and shined with the determination of the wielder. This was not the first time she had to wield a weapon in protection, and this certainly would not be the last.

The other male spoke up and chuckled, “Yeah, we’ll see how this goes.”

Y/N waited for them to engage but instead heard footsteps behind her. She closed her eyes and listened to the faint drawing of a bowstring. Surely they did not think she’d go down with something as little as an arrow. The arrow released and flew through the air towards her. And just as fast Y/N whipped around and sliced it mid air.

“What the hell do you think you could do to me? Especially with an arrow.” She snarled back att the males. Her teeth clenched tightly.

“Nothing.” The eldest shrugged. “Just wanted to see how fast you could react.”

“What?” The hair on the back of the royal’s neck stood. Arrows. Arrows flying from every direction towards her. The leathery wings on her back flared then tucked into her body as she twisted and twirled to avoid them all.

“I think we underestimated you.” A flash of blonde hair rushed towards Y/N.

Think. Think. Y/N mentally told herself. She could either give up the ability to block herself from the male or be impaled by arrows instead. But what if she could do both. Her right hand stretched out to the sky and clenched. The arrows blackened and dissipated into the air as if they were never there. And the sword she held in her left braced for the impact that never came.

“Where the hell are you both?” The girl growled before spreading her wings to launch herself into the sky. “I am going to rip your hearts out of your chests!”

A single arrow soared the sky towards her, singing with the intent to kill. It moved so fast that Y/N had trouble keeping track of it and braced her sword one again in front of her. Ever so calmly breathing in deeply as the Valkyries had once taught her. Shoulders squared and eyes on the target she released her held breath and stilled. But not from the inner peace she had worked into, but from the pain that shook her from the core.

“And that is what you get for being an insolent brute you half blooded bitch!” A kick to the backs of her knees had her kneeling before the two males. The eldest reached around the girl and ripped the arrow that had edged its way into her back. “Maybe the next time you try to do something as idiotic as fighting us, you should learn to kneel bitch.”

They both grabbed a shoulder and braced themselves for their killing blow.

“This is a mercy compared to what our father wants to do to you.”

A figure approaching stopped closer enough for Y/N to see their face. His face.

“Tamlin.” She uttered. “Why?'' A gut wrenching scream tore through her throat. The males on each side of her took turns with the arrow and ripped through the membranes of her wings. Ash. It had to be ash arrows as her normal healing would have helped with the first blow but it did anything but. The liquid red spilled into the snow and showered all of them. She gasped and inhaled as much air as she could, her lungs burned in defiance.

“Let’s go see what father wants to do with them. Hopefully something torturous for the mouth on this one.”

Each male took their side of the limp body while it shook through sobs and dragged her to a now burning fire. Tamlin trailed behind and looked towards the woods, maybe in hope that his friend would come ripping through the earth and end this torture. Would he go down as well as bystander to this atrocity? Cauldron knows that he was powerless compared to his father. It was futile to even go against his words.

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“Please d-” Y/N started before her head was violently thrashed into the snow beneath her feet.

“Do not speak another word!” Hissed the High Lord of the Spring Court. His boot stepped down with all his weight on the space betweens Y/N’s wings. “ Half blooded trash!”

The soft flurries of snow piled around the group from the Spring Court and now we're covering up the red snow made from her mother. Soft gasps could be heard from behind Y/N, and with her head dug so deeply into the ground beneath her, she struggled to hear what was happening.

Mother! Please answer me! Please! I need you!

The empty answer from her mother caused her to choke out a sob. She had to figure out a way to get both her and her mother out safely and find a way to get into contact with Rhys.

“Please allow me the honor of getting rid of this pest father.” The eldest son of the Spring Court chuckled as he reached for his dagger on his hip. “I wouldn’t want you to stain yourself with mere brute blood.” His fingers twitched in excitement as Y/N’s blood ran cold. Her palms flattened on the hardened snow under her, and she tried pushing herself up but was forced onto her face again by a forceful kick to the back.

“Watch it! Or I might not be so lenient when it comes to your death. Behave and this might go just as fast as we caught you.” The High Lord spat on the ground next to her face and reached to grab the back of Y/N’s hair and faced her eye-to-eye. “A shame really. I thought you were going to be a good breeding stock for my men back at court. Now I just have to enjoy the pieces of you and your mother I’ll be bringing back to my home as trophies.”

How could this have happened? Y/N and her mother were traveling through the Illyrian woods on the way to visit Rhysand in the Illyrian war- camp, thinking he was going to meet them halfway until they were rendered helpless by the royals of the Spring Court. Her mother tried blocking her and getting her to escape but Y/N refused and faced down the males with her willful mother.

“Wait!” Squeaked a voice from behind the High Lord. “I’ll do it.”

Y/N watched as a wicked smile etched itself on the older males face. He dropped her limp body and trekked himself towards a young Tamlin. The boy shook from the cold and maintained eye contact with his father.

“Do you think you have it in you to kill these worthless bitches?” Ground out the High Lord and grabbed Tamlin by the shoulder. “If you can prove yourself with this measly task, then you still might find yourself with a roof over your head when we get back.”

Tamlin swallowed and took a deep breath and nodded. His father dropped the sword he had strapped on his hip to his outstretched arms.

Y/N looked around for her mother and crawled her way to her. Her mothers hands grasped for her quickly and tucked the young girl under her arm and twisted wing. She stole herself a glance to her daughter and dipped her chin low enough to get the message through.

I’m sorry I made you come with me on this trip.

This isn’t your fault, mother. I promise you I’ll find a way to get out of this. If it weren’t for those ash arrows I would have flown us out of here already. I will get us out of here. Rhys should be here soon. And-

Look at me.

Her mother grabbed her chin roughly and stopped Y/N from her internal spiraling.

I might not be able to make it. But I sure as hell will get you through this.

The son of the High Lord of Spring approached slowly. His head lowered and his lips thinned with pain. His father walked back to where the dead bodies of our group were and began giving orders to his other sons.

“I wish that it didn’t have to be this way.” Tamlin whispered.

A scoff came out of Y/N as she raised her chin. “You told them where to find us didn’t you?”

“I didn’t think this would happen. I swear it upon the Cauldron.”

“Well it sure doesn’t look that way.” Y/N glanced back to her mother who tiredly leaned against her daughter's shoulder for support. The Lady of the Night Court tried her best to remain conscious by reminding herself of the hope she has for her daughter to escape. For her eldest child to come and rescue her.

“You can’t seriously think that we wou-” The young royal was cut off guard by her mother retching up blood onto the snow beside the both of them. Her mothers body shook and slumped back into her daughter's side.

“Tamlin.” Whispered the Lady. “I know you are much better than your wretched family. I know you have good in you.” Pain etched itself across her face.

“I need you to get Y/N out of here. Far away as possible.”

“I don’t know how. I will end up dead with the both of you.”

“No. I will tell you what you must do. But please promise me you will get her out of here.”

No. What are you doing? You can’t trust him. He will never let us go.

I just have to believe that he will let you go.

I can’t do this without you. I’m not leaving you. Look at yourself! I will get us out of here. I promised to protect you.

I know I know. Her mother grasped onto her hands and looked Y/N in her violet eyes. The eyes she stared deeply into as her reality shifted and blurred.

But I also made a promise to you when you were born. I don't know how, but I’ll make sure that you are kept out of danger. That you can live out your days and happiness. Even if that’s without me.

There is no happiness if I can’t have you in it. Please mother. Don’t leave me. Don’t make me choose-

I’ve already chosen.

“Tamlin. Cut off mine and my daughter's wings.”

“What?” Her daughter gasped out.

“Your father is going to want proof of our deaths. This is the only way. And then you may do what you want with the rest of me. But I will ask one more thing of you.” She whispered softly.

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Thank you so much to everyone who showed love on this new series! Please continue to stay happy and safe!

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x yn #rhysand x sister #acotar

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highladyof-prythian · 3 years ago

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Chapter 1- Clipped Wings (Preview)

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: After Tamlin helps Y/N out of his fathers grasp. He fakes her death and helps her disappear. But what happens when she reappears and reconnects with the Inner Circle and her brother.

Warnings: Severe Trauma, Blood, Gore, Crying. Please Do Not Read If You Are Not Comfortable With Any Of These Topics.

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“Please d-” Y/N started before her head was violently thrashed into the snow beneath her feet.

“Do not speak another word!” Hissed the High Lord of the Spring Court. His boot stepped down with all his weight on the space betweens Y/N’s wings. “ Half blooded trash!”

Mother! Please answer me! Please! I need you!

The empty answer from her mother caused her to choke out a sob. She had to figure out a way to get both her and her mother out safely and find a way to get into contact with Rhys.

“Wait!” Squeaked a voice from behind the High Lord. “I’ll do it.”

Tamlin swallowed and took a deep breath and nodded. His father dropped the sword he had strapped on his hip to his outstretched arms.

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Thanks for reading this little snippet! Stay happy and safe! <3

#acotar x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand x sister #azriel x yn #acotar

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highladyof-prythian · 3 years ago

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Rhys: I’m not gonna lie, Cass, I’m kinda scared of your mate.

Cassian: Oh, Nesta? Nesta wouldn’t hurt a fly!

Rhys: Okay, that’s reassuring-

Cassian: She would kill a man though.

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highladyof-prythian · 3 years ago

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Azriel Shadowsinger: Limping Home

Part 3 of the Unexpected series

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: The two most powerful shadowsingers of Prythian succumb to the power of the cauldron, and come face to face with their weaknesses.

Warnings: SMUTTTT (but more like love making), heavy swearing, references to abuse, prostitution, and alcoholism, Y/N has hair in this but I tried to keep it as inclusive to texture as I could, reference to slavery, Cassian and Rhys are here again, reader has a panic attack, reader also hates herself, RHYS AND CASS RETURN, Az gets nervous and rambles, and a happy ending for once.

A/N: Thank you to everyone for your patience for this last part. This one is quite special to me, so I really hope you all enjoy. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here :)

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, reblog, or ask, it would be much appreciated <3

Azriel Masterlist

(Art credit to @sallylouiseart on Instagram. Their art is amazing)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

For as much torture and agony you inflicted on others at the command of Beron, you didn’t expect to be the one to pay the price for it in the end.

Karma was more of a bitch than you ever expected.

It was torturous—agonizing—to hear Azriel’s movements, voice, and breaths for a seemingly endless stretch of nights after the passion the two of you shared in the brothel. You made it a point to keep your distance from him after the two of you had left the vicinity of the retched place, despite his not-so-subtle protests.

It’s funny how much you notice about a person after their tongue is down your throat.

He escorted you out of the brothel with you practically glued to his side, and he took flight with you in his arms as soon as you cleared the area.

You had never moved so fast in your life, yet felt so…secure. His grip on you was bruise-enducing, and yet you found yourself tucking your chin tighter into him.

You wrote it off as the aphrodisiac wearing itself off, but neither of you were that naive.

He flew for what felt like hours, the wind hitting your face it surely left visible burns, before he landed with a huff.

The two of you started your camp after that, and you refused to look at him as he began to prepare food over your fire.

You knew what he wanted. You told him you would explain what had happened with the male in the brothel after you, in your own words, “got the hell out of there.”

You didn’t plan on fulfilling that bargain.

Yet, he continued to sit next to you, watching the embers of red light bounce across your face. Waiting. Watching. Just like he was bred to do.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel unholy places on your body begin to heat up, sending chills throughout your skin. A hidden voice at the back of your head begged you to let him ruin you, claim you.

It was getting easier and easier to let that hidden voice become the only voice.

You refused to meet his gaze, even as he served you more food than you would ever dream of having to yourself in the Autumn Court, and he resorted to his tent after almost fifteen minutes of nauseating silence.

He wouldn’t pry, but he would hold you to it. You knew that.

You released a breath through your mouth after he pulled the fabric shut, and you attempted to steady your breathing. The crackling of the fire wood was barely audible over the roaring in your brain.

His deep baritone ran laps over and over in your brain, and the sinful things he had groaned into your ear…

If you’d give me the honor of killing him, in every way he fears most, I would enjoy it.

Gods you smell good.

I know what it is. I’ve been thinking about this long before now.

You were in deep, deep shit.

~*~

Azriel had never felt so out of control as he did in that fucking hallway.

Every night, he listened to your breathing as he fell asleep, imagining it was right next to him.

He wanted to touch you in any way possible, even if it was just to drag his fingertip across your perfect face.

He didn’t know how he survived the trip back to Velaris, but he did. In one piece.

Thank the gods.

The House of Wind was the agreed upon meeting place for him, Rhys, and Cassian after the two of you finally returned, and you were right on schedule.

He attempted to escort you to the door, but you insisted on walking behind him, saying that it allowed you for more visibility.

He understood what you meant. You were entering an area that you were still very unfamiliar with, full of powerful fae males who could have been working against you the entire time Beron had agreed to let them use you.

“Use” you, as if you were some object created for a finite purpose.

However, he grinned and let you walk behind him, thinking that he would have done the same exact thing.

He knocked twice on the door, and it swung open to reveal Rhys and Cassian waiting patiently by the entrance.

For as long as he had been gone and how loud his brain had been over the past few days, he exhaled in relief at the sight of his brothers. His family.

He could hear Rhysand speaking clearly in his mind.

“If I had not met a shadowsinger, I would not have known that it is the family you make, not the one you are born into, that matters.”

He embraced them both, noting that they too seemed more relaxed at the sight of him safe and sound. Physically, at least.

Mentally, he was forever trapped in that crack in the wall, pressed against the chipping wood and grinding into your sopping wet—

“Y/N,” Cassian announced, spreading his arms wide. “Long time no see.”

You barely glanced his way.

“So,” he said, awkwardly moving his hands to his hips, “how did it go?”

Both you and Az looked down.

It was going to be a long night.

~*~

The briefing with the High Lord and his General was easier than expected.

Mostly because you sat in complete silence as Azriel gave them the run-down of what you learned, neglecting to inform them of what the two of you were doing as you learned the rebels’ plans.

You stuck to the shadows as plans were made around you. Just as you always had, and just as you always would.

After a while, the constant talking and joking and love between the three males became too much, and you stood from the wooden circular table abruptly.

How could you be happy for others when your shot at a family had been ripped from you?

“I would like to rest,” you exclaimed, “and bathe. Please.”

The seated males looked at you with wide eyes, and the High Lord Rhysand cleared his throat.

“Of course. You must be exhausted. There is a guest bedroom at the very end of the hallway,” he said, gesturing to the darkened hallway behind him. The sun had begun to set, illuminating the dining area with golden rays, while leaving the hallway almost pitch-black.

It made sense in your brain. The three of them would stay together, all bright and shiny, and you would walk away from it into the vacant darkness. Alone.

The universe truly has a sick sense of humor.

“Thank you,” you muttered, and turned to make your way down the hall.

You barely made it three steps before a chair screeched on the floor.

“Y/N.”

You froze, and turned around slowly.

“Why don’t I—” the Spymaster began, standing awkwardly and getting caught on his words. “Don’t you—do you need anything? Can I get you something?”

He fumbled with his hands, and you eyed his brothers, noting their confusion.

You creased your eyebrows. “No.”

And then you walked away.

Yes, you did need something, but you felt sick at the thought of admitting it, so you walked away from the only male who had ever offered you something without expecting anything in return.

You were so fucked.

You made it to the room and shut the door, not caring about the sound it made.

But, if you had turned around for just a second, you would have seen Azriel’s disappointment, and Cassian and Rhysand’s matching smirks.

~*~

The scalding hot water on your body was heavenly.

You sank beneath the water, basking in the expensive soaps and shampoos that you had never even heard of before. They were like butter on your skin, and your hair was in desperate need of a thorough cleaning.

Your nails scratched across your scalp, and you exhaled a deep breath.

For the first time in a long time, you felt good. Safe. Like you could take your time, and there wasn’t any sort of rush.

Your mind didn’t know what to do with all of that silence. So, like always, it found your favorite thing to be angry about.

Beron.

How dare he let the Night Court use you like this, and for what? To show off one of his slaves, his living weapon?

Your eye twitched in rage not just at him, but at yourself.

Deep down, you were grateful he did. You were grateful to be shown just a taste of what living was like, and the gorgeous views of Velaris. It had never occurred to you that life could be anything more than survival.

And you longed for it.

Your anger quickly turned to sadness. Sadness at a life that you would never have the chance to experience. You would crawl back to your cage at the tug of Beron’s leash, and life would go back to normal.

A tear escaped your eye, and you quickly wiped it away, standing up out of the bath and wrapping your drenched body in a towel.

You dried yourself off quickly, and slipped into a pair of fresh clothes that had been left in the drawers of the bedroom.

They smelled…strong. Like the female who had worn them before was unyielding. Smoke and iron coated the back of your nose, and you wondered who the set had belonged to.

You assumed the rich-as-Hel High Lord wouldn’t mind.

You began to dry off your hair and walk to the massive white bed, when a knock sounded at your door.

Your chest caved in, and your empty stomach lurched.

If your logic could not conclude who was behind the door, some animalistic tug inside you surely could.

You swallowed.

“Yes,” you said quietly.

The door opened to reveal the infamous Spymaster of the Night Court holding a bowl of steaming tomato soup in one hand, and a miniature biscuit in the other. The size of his hands dwarfed them.

“I figured you would be hungry. We didn’t eat much today,” he said, and slowly walked towards you.

You just…looked at him.

He really was beautiful. Tired eyes, large wings, broad shoulders, fuzzy hair likely ruffled by one of his brothers.

A bit of the wall around your heart chipped away.

“Why don’t you sit down?” he said, gesturing to the bed.

You don’t know why, but you complied.

You sat criss-cross on top of the silk bedsheets, likely worth more money than you would ever see in your life, and let him hand you the food.

Your stomach grumbled at just the scent.

You made yourself look him in his golden eyes and say, “thank you.”

He nodded, and backed away to close the door.

You took small sips of the soup, feeling your tummy finally coated in something warm and filling, before breaking off pieces of the biscuit and chewing them slowly.

Azriel watched you take every single bite.

He waited until there was not a drop left before offering to take it back to the kitchen.

You handed it to him with a slight nod and licked your lips. The magnitude of what he did began to hit you, and emotions began to crawl up your throat.

You took deep breaths and steadied yourself.

You would not break.

He returned quickly, and shut the door once more before moving to sit beside you. The bed was so large there might as well had been an ocean between the two of you.

“I thought of an idea,” he said, and your eyes met his.

“I’ll share something about me, and you can share something about you.”

The hope in his eyes was unmistakable.

You swallowed again, and looked away from his intense gaze. You knew what he wanted. He had been wanting to hear what the Illyrian male had done to you, and you had no idea why.

You also had no idea why you were so desperate to get it off your chest.

“Okay,” you whispered. “Okay.”

He licked his lips and took in a quiet breath.

He seemed…nervous.

“When I was eight,” he began, “my brothers decided it would be fun to see what happened when you mixed an Illyrian's quick healing gifts with oil and fire. They poured oil on my hands, and lit them on fire. I barely remember the pain, I just remember screaming until my throat ran dry. My father’s warriors heard my screaming, but not quick enough to save my hands.”

All coherent thoughts had left you, and a burning pit of fury awakened in you. You could picture him younger, smaller, and completely helpless. Burning alive.

You hoped those brothers were dead, because nothing would be able to stop them from your wake now.

He brought his hands into the dim light, and you realized that you had never seen them gloveless. At least, not this closely.

They were scarred. Brutally.

“I was left with these,” he said quietly, and looked down at his large hands, forever tainted with that awful memory. The darkness in his eyes proved it.

You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to snatch those memories from his brain and deposit them into your own. All of that pain, all of that heartache, you would take it. All of it.

Your breathing quickened, and the only thing you could think to do was reach out and grab his hands into your own.

He jumped a bit, and his head snapped up to look at you, but he relaxed into your touch. You held his hands lightly and gently, scared to crack and shatter this beautiful gift you had been given.

You looked down at your crossed hands, and an instinct to comfort overcame you. You kept his eye contact for a second or two before you began to trace each scar with the tip of your finger, moving in each of the cracks and grooves delicately.

You didn’t know what you expected him to do, but the last thing you expected him to do was shudder.

His breath fanned your face, and your own eyes fluttered.

“Y/N,” he whispered shakily, “please tell me you feel it too. That pull inside your chest.”

You squished your eyes shut, and turned your head away from him.

Of course you did.

You didn’t let your hands leave his.

“I was yours the moment you saw me, wasn’t I? You knew right away?”

You swallowed harshly, but forced yourself to look him in the eye. A tear escaped as you nodded your head slowly.

He was yours.

“And you’re—you’re mine, aren’t you?” he said, and removed his hands from yours to frame your face with them.

You kept your eyes open, and your entire body began to tremble.

You didn’t want to be owned, or used like an object. It had happened enough in your life, and the last thing you needed was a territorial mate in your life who felt he had the right to do so.

Mate.

Had that been the first time you had truly admitted what he was to yourself?

And yet, under all that fear, your gut was telling you that he wouldn’t be like that. He wouldn’t see you as an object to use, or a female to own. He had taken care of you and let you decide how things worked in the brothel. You could see the sincerity in his eyes as you looked into them, and the warmth of his hands against your skin made you dizzy.

So you did it. You nodded.

“Yes Azriel. I am.”

And then you broke down.

You let the emotional toll of the past few weeks take over, and you cried into his touch. You wrapped your hands around his wrists keeping his hands in place, and he pressed his forehead against yours.

“You could be happy here Y/N. I know you could.”

“I can’t Azriel,” you wept. You did enjoy his name on your tongue.

“I cant—I can’t escape him.”

He knew who you were referring to, and he pressed his lips to your forehead in answer.

“We will get you out,” he whispered into the skin between your eyebrows. “I will burn the entire fucking court down if I have to.”

That only made you cry harder.

He tucked you into his chest, and you stayed there for a long while. Letting him stroke your still damp hair and breathing in his scent.

You sniffled and pulled away suddenly, remembering your deal.

“The Illyrian male from the brothel,” you began while wiping your nose with your sleeve, “was one of my many assignments from Beron.”

Azriel kept his eyes on your face, and leaned towards you.

“Beron had no qualms about me using my body for information. He implored it even. So, I would be sent to wherever that male was, I would give him what he wanted, and he would give me information. I never once left his company without a bruise, and it was typically more than that. Especially when he drank.”

An almost icy calm overtook Azriel’s body, like a hunter catching sight of their prey.

“That’s why I…I didn’t want to see him. I don’t want to see him. Ever.”

Azriel continued to look at you and took a deep breath before running his hand down his face. He put his hands back into his lap before pressing his face impossibly close to your own.

“Listen to me, please,” he said. “I will never let that happen to you again. Even if you don’t choose me, I won’t let it happen. Do you understand?”

You did. You really did.

You were the one who took the opportunity to rub your noses together. Your touch-starved body was already craving his touch. He smiled faintly, and closed his eyes.

“You are the only female I will ever think about for the rest of my life,” he mumbled against your lips. “It could be centuries from now, and the only thing I would see in other females was that they are not you.”

You let his words wash over you, but the more they sunk in, the more afraid you became.

Did you have to ruin fucking everything?

“What is it?” he asked softly. “My Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You didn’t know how to even begin to describe what had been fed into your sick brain for decades. There was no way to put it into words, but you tried.

“I’m…I’m dark Azriel,” you explained after a moment, and the tears returned. “I’m fucked up. I’m not a good person. I….I hate more than I love. It’s easier for me to just sit in where I am and what I am instead of trying to crawl myself out of it because I—I’m so scared.

“Whenever I’m given something good, something real, I squeeze the light out of it and—and I destroy it. Everything I touch gets ruined.”

You began to think back to past friendships you had with fellow shadowsingers or even just female fae in Beron’s court. They were kind to you and showed you that not everyone in the universe was evil, but you pushed them away. You didn’t deserve them.

You didn’t deserve him.

Besides, they would eventually tire of you anyway, right?

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

His forehead began to crease and a few of his own tears dripped down into his mouth. He was trying to find words to console you, but you knew he wouldn’t be able to make it better. Others had tried and failed.

You weren’t aware how truly stubborn the Spymaster was.

“I know you feel that way. I know,” he whispered. “But I will walk through that darkness with you, every step, and we will get you out of it. Together.”

Click.

You felt the snap of the mating bond, and you had never felt anything better.

“Just give me a chance, give us a chance,” he pleaded. “Please.”

You didn’t have a doubt in your mind when you responded.

“Okay. I will.”

And he smiled, so big it reached your eyes, and your heart became flooded with gratitude.

He began to laugh quietly, truly elated, and you smiled back toothlessly.

He shook his head in disbelief.

“I never thought I’d find this,” he said.

“Me neither.”

You didn’t even notice the bit of sun peaking through the shaded windows.

He swallowed and put his forehead to yours one final time, and you sat there quietly.

It was a few minutes before a sizzling feeling crept up your spine, and you realized what just happened.

He was your mate. You found him.

It awakened an animal inside of you, and unholy images and sounds began to slowly creep into your mind. The hall in the brothel appeared again, and those memories began to make your throat close up.

Azriel’s nostrils flared, and a devilish smirk came to his mouth.

“You’re already thinking about that love?” he mumbled. “I can smell you already.”

“I know,” you shot back. “I can smell yours too.”

He released a small groan.

“I want to do more than kiss you goodnight tonight Y/N,” he said with his eyes shut. “Tell me to leave and I will. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know you won’t,” you breathed. “Do it Azriel. I’m not afraid.”

And your mouths met in the most beautiful collision.

His taste was familiar, like coming to a home you had been limping towards for years. You didn’t realize how many details of it you had memorized.

He brought his hands to your face, and you pulled him closer by his collar. His tongue entered your mouth, and you cared less and less about how hard you were breathing.

His tongue mapped your mouth before he pulled away and said, “You’re sure about this?”

“I am,” you panted. “More than I have ever been.”

The glint of mischief entered his eye again, and he took the opportunity to completely pin you to the bed. He did it gently and playfully, and you laughed from your chest.

He paused with his mouth over yours.

“I think that’s my new favorite sound.”

You let your smile reach your eyes, and pulled him down to kiss you.

He slowed down his kissing this time, and he took his time to trace his hands down your body, just as you traced his scars. He made it down to your ass and gave it a squeeze, and you whimpered.

He chuckled darkly and moved his mouth to your neck.

“Never mind,” he said sunk his teeth into your collarbone. “That’s my favorite.”

Your eyes rolled back, and he began to suck hickeys all the way up to your ear-lobe.

“Azriel,” you groaned, “I want your clothes off.”

“We’ve got all night.”

“Exactly,” you said, and pulled his shirt up to his head. He leaned back onto his knees to let you pull it off all the way.

To say you were in awe was an understatement.

He had to have been training since he was born with the way his muscles were sculpted to perfection. His tan skin was riddled with tiny golden scars, and it only made him more beautiful. Your eyes went from his v-line to his messy brown hair, and a bit of drool may have exited your open mouth.

Beautiful

“Fuck,” he said. “Now I want to see you.”

You raised your arms let him take your shift off to reveal your lack of undergarment underneath. You then took the liberty to slide your pants off as well as your underwear, and you were completely revealed.

You wanted him to see all of you. Every inch.

He leaned back onto his knees again to look at you, and the mischief in his eyes mixed with adoration. You could see how it came from deep in his soul, and it almost brought another tear to your eye.

“I’ve waited my whole life for this,” he said, and leaned down on his forearms to suck on your left nipple.

A volcano erupted in your lower stomach, and you arched forward for more.

He kept his hands on your hips to keep you grounded onto the bed, and he licked and sucked into your skin. You brought your shaking hands to his thick hair, and he practically melted into your grasp.

He pressed kisses down the valley between your breasts before moving to the next one, and you bit your lip to quiet your moans.

“I want to hear you,” he said and looked up to make eye contact. “I asked Rhys and Cass to give us some privacy.”

You let a breath of air escape, and didn’t hold back your groans as he sucked on your skin perfectly.

He began to kiss down to your belly button, and your eyes widened when you realized what he was implying.

“No Azriel,” you said. “No.”

He pulled away immediately and looked like he was about to apologize before you said.

“I want you inside me first,” you said. “Please.”

He smiled and you.

“Only because you said please.”

He brought his mouth to yours, and your tongue began to explore his instead. He let you unbuckle him and slide his pants and undergarments off, and his erection sprung free.

You kissed over his cheeks as you cupped it, and he bucked into your palm. His moan almost sounded painful.

“I’m on a potion,” he said.

“Me too,” you replied. “Courtesy of Beron.”

He nodded against you, and kissed your cheek apologetically. He knew what you meant.

“Stay here,” he said. “Keep that beautiful brain here. With me.”

“I’m right here,” you said, and he nodded as he lined himself up. He licked his pointer and middle finger to feel your heat.

His smile only widened when he pressed his fingers against it and pulled them away soaked.

“Ready?” you ask him.

He brushed your now dried hair away from your forehead.

“Incredibly.”

And then he slid himself inside you, and your shadows left you for the first time ever.

His left him as well, and he paused deep inside you. His arms were shaking so harshly that he could barely keep himself up, but he watched where your eyes went.

Merely inches above his head, right where the final beams of sun were shining through from the sunset, your shadows began to dance together.

It was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

You kept your eyes on him, and he turned his head back around to look at you.

The look in his eye said it all.

He brought his forehead to yours, and proceeded to make love to you.

You wished you could bottle that moment and live in it forever. The two shadows above you, his exquisite face contorted in pleasure, and the slice of heaven that was rising inside of you. Your brain was on fire and your heart was full.

You had never been happier.

After a while, you felt him start to shake inside of you, and he seemed to be holding back.

“Let go Azriel,” you said. “Don’t be gentle.”

And he wasn’t.

He rocked into you hard, and your own orgasm hit you out of no where.

Your walls tightened around him, and his sweaty forehead tucked into your neck as he released his own climax into you.

You realized that you had never been so close to another being before. He breathed deeply into your neck trying to bring air back into his lungs, and you scratched your fingers over his muscular back.

It felt good. Really good.

He kissed a few of the love bites that he had left from before and breathed in your hair. You brought your hands up his back and felt his muscles contract as he settled himself on top of you.

“Thank you Azriel,” you said and kissed his ear. “I will always choose you. Always.”

~*~

Azriel did not lie to you when he said that you had all night.

After he removed himself from inside of you, your whimper at the loss of contact brought him to his knees. Literally.

He dragged you to the end of the bed and feasted on you until you were in tears, and then you pulled him up to you and pinned him underneath you. You set yourself on his face while facing his feet, and you leaned down to take him into your hot mouth.

The two of you tasted each other simultaneously, and the way you withered above him and begged him to just last a little longer—

“Morning,” you mumbled, and he blinked. He didn’t even remember falling asleep, but he had you wrapped in his arms tightly.

“Good morning,” he said, and held you tighter.

“What were you thinking about?” you asked with a grin.

He chuckled. “I think you know.”

You smiled again and hummed happily. Your naked body pressed against his was something he didn’t know he needed. He had been missing that part of himself his whole life.

He loved it. He loved you.

You rubbed your eye and mumbled, “what time is it?”

“Late morning,” he replied and massaged your scalp with his hand. “You hungry?“

“A little,” you replied. “Will we see Rhysand and Cassian today?”

His heart fluttered at the thought of you knowing them.

“If you’d like,” he said. “Typically mates want the house to themselves for at least a week after their bond snaps.”

You chuckled. “I’d like that very much, but I think they deserve to know what happened.”

He really did love you.

“Okay,” he said. “Why don’t we have them over for dinner then. I still want you for myself for the next few hours.”

“You will. And all the days after that.”

~*~

You were sick to your stomach with nerves all day. Azriel’s fingers and tongue were helpful to take the edge off, but not completely. You wanted to rewrite the first impression that you gave to the High Lord and the General. You wanted your mate’s family to at least be able to tolerate you, and storming around and huffing and puffing all over the gorgeous house they let you stay in really didn’t help.

But, you were ready to try, and it went eons better than you expected.

Cassian and Rhysand brought baskets of more food than you had seen in a long time, and Azriel had prepared food on top of that as well.

By the time everyone was finally seated your nerves really started to take over, and you sat close to Azriel around the circular table. Cassian smiled and began to help everyone with their servings.

Rhysand smiled as well, and even threw you a wink. You grave him a little smile back, never even thinking a High Lord could be so…normal.

As the meal began, Azriel pressed his thigh against yours. He could see that your stomach was in such a knot that you had a hard time eating, so he did his best to comfort.

It helped more than you expected to, and you managed to get a couple of pieces of bread down.

Rhysand and Cassian had been eyeing both Azriel and each other, waiting for whatever they expected him to say. The High Lord rested his head on his hands while the General was more leaned back.

They wouldn’t pry. They would wait until the both of you were ready. It made you even more confident in your decision.

You knew Azriel would better explain it all than you would, so you let him. He managed to phrase it all better than you ever could, and Rhysand and Cassian only seemed to get more joyful and prideful as Azriel went on.

He left out anything that would have made you uncomfortable, like the brothel hallway and the explicit moments from the night before, and when he finally used the word mate, you could have sworn a mist had formed over the males’ eyes.

Rhysand smiled. “Congratulations. To both of you.”

You kept your head down but made a point to thank him with the gratitude in your eyes.

“I liked you from the beginning,” Cassian said with a smirk. “You remind me of my own mate. You two will get along well I’m sure.”

He said so many things in those three sentences, and they warmed you from the inside out.

“The rebels don’t have a planned attack for another week, so why don’t you two take some time for yourselves,” Rhysand said.

Cassian hummed in agreement. “I’ve heard the Summer Court has some lovely cabins close to the water. Rhys surely has enough in his pockets to contribute to that.”

A wave of confidence hit you.

“I can’t,” you said, louder and shakier than you expected. The room froze, and Cassian tilted his head in confusion.

“I—I’m not allowed in the Summer Court. Their definition of fun is more tame than my own.”

The last thing you expected from Cassian was for him to throw his head back in laughter.

“You’re banned from the Summer Court?” Rhysand asked with a laugh.

“Yes. For Public Intoxication,” you replied and couldn’t hide your smile.

Cassian pointed to himself. “Destruction of Property.”

You breathed out a laugh genuine enough to let your shoulders shake and even Azriel brought his thumb and pointer finger to his nose with a smile.

Amidst the chaos of laughter, Rhysand made eye contact with you. It was intense enough to keep you locked in, but his face was framed only with joy.

“Welcome to the Night Court.”

You were home.

Tag list: (I apologize if your tag did not work or was not added. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!)

@leahkenobi @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen123 @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @sayhitomommy @wickedazriel @xxpeachyxo @evlynclia @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @feyretopia @wingedmiken @moonattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @red-highlady @bsenpai-blog @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhre @mystic-scripture @wolfyland07 @are-y0u-sirius @hilism @tooobsessedsstuff

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highladyof-prythian · 3 years ago

Text

Azriel Shadowsinger: Let Go

Part 2 of the Unexpected mini-series

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: There’s a magnetic pull to him, like his very being is haunting you. Your attempts to push it away only cause it to worsen.

Warnings: SEX POLLEN, but there’s a super long build up, no smut just heavy touching and dry-humping, references to abuse and trust issues, horny horny horny, heavy swearing, drugs are used, and Az is protective. Please let me know if I’m missing anything.

A/N: Helloooooo. I’m so happy people are enjoying this series. There will be three parts in total, and I really enjoyed writing this one in particular. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :) (I’m so sorry for the length. This may be the longest thing I’ve ever written).

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, reblog, or ask, it would be much appreciated <3

Azriel Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You hated that you knew his name before you even met him.

Azriel Shadowsinger, Spymaster of the Night Court.

Beron, High Lord of the Autumn Court and resident pain in your ass, warned you about him before sending you on this mission.

“I know you’re better than him, you know you’re better than him,” he said to you, poking you in the center of your chest.

“Do not let him—or them—intimidate you. You will lead this mission, and represent the Autumn Court.”

You nodded, pressed against the stone wall as his breath fanned your neck.

“Do not fail me, Y/N, or your court,” he breathed against you. “You know what will happen if you do.”

Your wrists throbbed at the memory.

Your plan was just that: destroy the threat in Illyria, prove to the Night Court that their Spymaster was nothing in comparison to you, and return home with any information you could use against the the Night Court.

That was, until, you walked into his fucking chamber, and were hit with something you thought you’d never feel.

A pull, deep within your chest, that could only be described as consuming.

He hadn’t even looked at you, and you could barely see his silhouette in the darkness of his keep, but you felt it. It was like a magnetic field, or an innocent moth seeing a burning flame for the first time.

Curious.

You convinced yourself that it didn’t matter, whatever it was. You were here for one job, and one job only. Beron would eventually find out if you strayed even a hair from his path. It wasn’t worth it.

You put on the mask of Autumn Court Spymaster for the thousandth time, and ignored the way your body wavered as it glided past his own. His scent drowned you.

Do not fail me, Y/N, or your court.

You did what you knew best: ignored it.

And then you went to work.

It was incredibly fucked up how torture made you feel. Maybe it was because you were finally given some power after being thrown into training against your will as a child, or maybe you enjoyed giving others only a taste of what you had endured for a century.

You didn’t like to think about it.

You pulled out your ruby-crusted dagger, the most expensive thing you had ever owned, and reminded Agnar of how beautifully it shined against his skin.

It should have filled in the hole inside you, the way Agnar begged for you to stop, but it didn’t.

That presence—his presence—crawled up your back as you worked, and sent a fuzzy feeling to your brain. It was subtle enough for you to block it out, but there is only so much a brain can do.

He was looking at you. Watching you. His eyes skated over you, not in a predatory way, but in curiosity. You could of sworn he was taking mental snapshots of the tactics you used, memorizing how your hips and legs moved.

It didn’t make you uncomfortable—it did quite the opposite—but it sure as hell pissed you off.

No male, not one, had ever taken the time to study you. Not in this way, not in a way of respect, like he actually knew what you felt in that moment, and solidified himself with it. He watched you in silence, like he was watching a performer perfect their craft.

The only way your body could find a way to react to it was anger.

You got the information you needed from Agnar, and immediately wanted the hell out of there. You needed a shot, or a shower, or a random fuck to clear your head.

But first, you were forced to look at him.

Gods.

“I know the brothel,” you heard yourself say to him, averting your eyes from the way the leathers he wore hugged his taught body. His frame towered over yours, but he kept his eyes focused on your face. “I can get there in more than enough time.”

You began your march to the door, shrinking under his gaze more than you cared to admit, before he blocked you with his hand over your stomach.

A pulse of electricity flowed through your organs.

“Wait,” he said, and his golden eyes met your own. “Rhys will need to hear about this. He will want me to go with you as well.”

No.

Do not fail me, Y/N, or your court.

“I don’t need your help,” you hissed. His collarbone was close enough to your mouth that you could smell your own breath.

He continued to stare blankly at you before dropping his arm and letting you pass.

You rushed out of the room in a blur, and heard a faint noise of him and another male speaking in the chamber.

You let your eyes flutter, and you took a deep breath from your nose.

A male with big wings and glowing eyes would not be the reason the Spymaster of the Autumn Court failed for the first time in a century.

~*~

As if the chamber was not embarrassing enough, the meeting with the High Lord was the worst of it.

Rhysand, or “Rhys” to the males around you, insisted that Azriel accompany you to the brothel in the Steppes. The place was so worn down you were not even sure of the name, but you knew where precisely where it was.

“I do not need help,” you had repeated to the High Lord countless times.

“I know that, we all know that,” he replied, folding his hands on the wooden table. “We do know, however, that a brothel that large is unsafe for any fae to enter alone. It would be safer for you to have someone you could trust.”

Trust.

Trust was a gift that had been stolen from you too many times.

“And besides,” the male continued, “I’m sure Azriel would enjoy himself in a place like that.”

The broadest and tallest one, named Cassian, laughed under his breath.

Azriel did nothing but stare into the creases of the old wooden tabletop, while you desperately forced your eyes away from him.

“Then it’s decided,” Rhysand said, leaning back into his chair, “you will leave tonight. I’d like for you to meet the High Lady.”

~*~

The trip to the brothel was easier than expected with Rhysand offering to winnow you as far as he could. The rest of the journey was mostly on foot, and you camped where you could, scraping together food as you went along.

The two of you had barely spoken three words to each other.

You fell into a rhythm: walk, eat, sleep, repeat. The two of you were trained enough to know when you needed to stop, and because of your similar professions, your stamina was almost exactly the same.

You refused to believe it was for other reasons.

You could not believe you had somehow wound up…comfortable around the male. The first night your tents were set up side by side you did not let your eyes shut for more than a few minutes.

The High Lord could have easily double-crossed you, or given Azriel separate orders to kill you. One of the few things you could gather from Azriel was that he was fiercely loyal to his friends, more like family, and that he trusted his High Lord completely.

You couldn’t help but wonder what that felt like.

If Rhysand ordered him to kill you, he would kill you.

A part of you hoped he would at least try, so that any hope you had that fae males could be good would crumble.

But he didn’t. Instead, he slept quieter than you had ever heard another being sleep, and he even set all of his weapons outside of his tent to silently assure you that he was not on this mission for funny business.

Still, your body finally crashed as dawn approached, and you got maybe three hours before you heard steps in the grass and twigs.

You bolted awake, reaching for your dagger, before you saw his familiar silhouette.

Your entire body breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him, and you were too tired to fight it away.

The two of you didn’t make it very far that day, since he insisted on you leading him wherever you went—which was also something you were incredibly foreign to. You sat in your tent once the sun set, and it only took a few seconds for you to succumb to a deep and dreamless sleep.

As you drifted off, however, a soft covering was laid over you, softer than you had ever felt in your life. You pulled it under your chin and hummed, curling in on yourself.

“Get some sleep,” you heard a gruff voice whisper above you. He looked a you for a few more moments before leaving as silently as he entered.

You kept that blanket for the rest of the silent journey, and some invisible threshold had been broken between the two of you.

Friends felt too strong, but partners felt alright. Temporary partners.

Nothing more.

~*~

You had never heard the roar of so many voices than when you finally reached the brothel.

“Stay ahead of me,” you heard from behind you. The dark-grey entrance to the brothel was loud—too loud. You could barely hear your own thoughts, let alone Azriel’s deep voice.

“Stick to the shadows,” he mumbled, “and we won’t be seen—”

“I know what I’m doing,” you whisper-shouted.

You hadn’t heard his voice in days, and the way its deep, attractive baritone squeezed your legs together boiled your blood.

He said nothing in response.

The two of you continued your walk inside, sticking to the edges of the crowded space and aiming directly for the dining room. You had been to this space countless times, and not all of those times had you been a guest.

You pushed those thoughts from your mind, and headed straight forward, not bothering to look at anyone in the crowd.

The dining room came closer and closer in reach, and just as you rounded the corner, a very familiar Illyrian male appeared from the dining room, surrounded by females. Drunkenness was present on his face, as well as in his stench.

That drunkenness had left you beaten to a pulp many times before.

Panicked, you reached behind you, grabbed Azriel’s hand, and rushed forward. He pulled his arm back initially, and you felt his eyes scan over your stature, tight and afraid, and he kept pace with you as best he could.

It was only after he saw how terrified you became at the sight of the male that his body pushed into your own, almost ushering you forward.

You pulled him into a tght-fit side hallway, which had another visible entry into the dining room. This entrance, however, was barely wide enough for you to fit through, let alone Azriel—wings and all.

It was practically a crack in the wall.

You pressed yourself against the creaky, disgusting wooded wall, and pushed Azriel against the wall across from you, meeting his gaze.

“Who was that?” he asked you sternly.

“It doesn’t matter—”

“Yes it does,” he spat, and squeezed your wrist with his left hand.

“It does, Y/N. Tell me.”

He had never said your name before.

“I’ll tell you after we get the hell out of here,” you said to him, peeking into the dining room.

He released your wrist, and the remnants of the warmth of his grip left the rest of your body feeling cold.

He continued to look at you before turning his body around to peer into the dining room.

The room was dark with candlelight as its only light source. Smoke and other fumes glided around the flames and above the males’ heads, who were sitting in a circle around a large, dark wood table. There were six males in total.

You had seen every single one before. You could recall each of their full names, what position they had in Illyria, and their closest loved ones.

This was the meeting you were here for. These were the males who planned to storm Ironcrest.

And they had no fucking idea who was watching them.

Azriel observed them as silently as you did, memorizing each of their faces. The spot you had pulled him into was more than ideal for a hiding spot, and his shadows covered over his back, hiding his wings.

He was so close to you that they brushed your cheek every now and then, softly and tentatively.

The males were making pleasant conversation—everything from their journeys to the brothel to the “sluts” they were planning to see afterwards.

Azriel’s leather-covered hands squeezed at his sides a little tighter when that was the topic of their conversation.

As you watched them, they slowly began to bring up their so called “operation.” Drinks were passed around, as well as various powders to smoke, and their voices began to sink lower and lower.

You found yourself creeping closer and closer to the entrance, desperate to catch anything and everything.

You didn’t notice Azriel moving behind you, towering over you so he could see as well.

As the males began to go over the basics—how many males they would need, where the exact location was, what their speeches would look like, weaponry and security—Azriel pressed into your back even more, paying close attention to the numbers and names that were being said. You could feel him take slow breaths against your spine, and your body froze at the feeling.

You were completely and utterly surrounded by him.

His scent, his leather, his breaths—you felt and smelled all of them. You had never been this close to him before, and the war you had been having inside your head began to reach its height.

He is not my friend.

He is not my partner.

He is not my mate.

He is nothing to me.

Just as your legs began to tremble under your own weight, the familiar male from earlier entered the room, drunkenly falling into an open seat.

You sucked in a breath—like a coward. There was no way Azriel didn’t feel it.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see that male’s face ever again, when hot air hit your earlobe.

“He hurt you, didn’t he?”

You released a breath through your nose, and a pulse went straight to your already soaked core.

You swallowed in response, and Azriel smiled against the skin on your neck.

“If you’d give me the honor of killing him, in every way he fears most, I would enjoy it.”

Your body began to mold to against his own, but your eyes stayed trained on the males.

“Gods you smell good,” he mumbled, and he licked his lips before pressing them to where your neck meets your collarbone.

You lost the war you had in your brain, the pull you felt to him in your chest finally snapped, and you let yourself feel it. Feel him.

You exhaled, letting him guide you into him, and breathed in through your nose when he began to kiss down the side of your neck. A sweet scent filled your nostrils, and your eyes popped open.

You knew that scent. You could smell it anywhere.

Blackberry leaf, with a touch of hibiscus.

The smoke you saw flowing over the candles wasn’t ordinary smoke—it was infused with aphrodisiac.

And Azriel was breathing heavier and heavier into your neck.

Maybe you would regret this. Maybe he would regret this. Maybe you were disgusting and gross to let him do this to you under the influence.

But his hands felt so good wrapped around your waist, and his pelvis began to press harder and harder against your ass.

You had to tell him. You would hate yourself if you didn’t.

“The—the smoke,” you breathed, and he grunted against your jawline. “It’s got—“

“I know what it is,” he replied huskily, “I’ve been thinking about this long before now.”

And you let go.

You pressed your ass against his pelvis, feeling how hard and thick he was against you. He moaned against you, sucking harder and harder onto your neck. You hoped it left bruises.

Beron was going to kill you.

His own back pressed against the wall, and he continued to grind into you from behind. His grip on you was unforgiving, and the ache between your legs begged for more.

A flash of logic hit you out of nowhere.

Did the males in that room know you were here? Did they do this on purpose?

The scary part, however, was how little you cared.

All you wanted was relief, and you wanted him to give it to you.

You groaned before pushing yourself off of him, and spun yourself around to face him.

“Y/N,” he whimpered, whimpered at you. His hair had fallen down his face, and his lips and cheeks were reddened from how long he was kissing you.

Now you wanted to kiss him.

You pulled him to you by his collar, and pulled him into a searing kiss.

He pushed you against the wall, and his tongue entered your mouth like a steaming hot brand. Marking you and claiming you.

Your hands went to his hair, discovering it was just as soft as you expected it to be, and you kissed him as ferociously and hungrily as he did to you. His hands crept behind your back and down to your ass, and you ground your crotch against his.

Your eyes fluttered, and he groaned into your mouth. The friction you began to create against him was desperate and messy, and he ground into you hard.

You lightly pulled on his hair, and he seemed to like that, so you did it again. He pulled you into him harder, and you scratched your nails down his back.

“Fuck,” he said, pulling away to catch his breath.

You weren’t done.

You took the opportunity to pull his chest towards your mouth, and you kissed up his neck and to his jaw.

He exhaled shakily, and braced his hands on the wall behind you for balance. His entire torso was quivering under your touch.

You grinned.

You kissed extra hard on his pulse-point, then licked a strip across his jaw.

His body caved in, and a broken noise escaped him.

Who knew the infamous Night Court Spymaster liked his jaw licked?

“Oh Y/N,” he managed to breathe. He sounded like he had been flying for miles.

“I think you’re—“

“Who’s there?”

The gruff voice made you jump, tucking your face into Azriel’s body for protection.

You barely had time to process that that was your knee-jerk reaction before you were shoved further down the hallway, and blocked by darkness and shadows.

Azriel’s chest was still pressed against your own, but his shoulders and wings blocked your body, while his shadows blocked his own.

You were completely invisible in the shadows of the hallway.

Gods. He was completely covering you with his body, protecting every inch of your own. Putting himself at risk.

He kept his eyes on yours, and you kept your eyes on his.

He really was as beautiful as the rumors said.

His eyes were brown with a golden ring, and his pupils were blown wide. He had a more elegant beauty to him, with a sharp jawline and thick eyebrows. His face was firm—tighter than before. When you kissed him, it seemed as if he snapped away from his serious nature for as long as he could.

He reminded you of yourself, just much more beautiful, and much more kind.

“He’s gone,” he whispered, and you felt his breath on your mouth. Your core still ached for relief.

“We’ll…we’ll ambush them at Ironcrest,” he said, still breathless. His face was still flushed. “Take them all out at once. We’ll have the numbers.”

“Yes,” you responded. You had to have looked pathetic, looking up at him with hunger still etched on your features.

“We’ve gotten what we needed.”

Fuck yeah we did, you thought to yourself.

“Yes.”

His face began to move closer to yours, and he ran his lips over yours lightly. Chills erupted across your skin, and you couldn’t hide your shudder.

“Like you said,” he said grinning. He knew the effect he had on you.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Tag list: (please feel free to ask to be tagged! I apologize if I missed you or the tag is not working)

@leahkenobi @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen123

@em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @sayhitomommy @wickedazriel @xxpeachyxo @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @feyretopia @evlynclia @wingedmiken @moonslattes @hollyismentallyillhelp @esposadomd @red-highlady @bsenpai @buttercake2234 @perssepeony @whor-3-crux @avengerswhre @leahkenobi

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highladyof-prythian · 3 years ago

Text

Azriel Shadowsinger: Unexpected

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader

Summary: Azriel does his duty for his Court completely and utterly isolated, and he likes it that way. His ideology begins to waver, however, when another begins to do it better.

Warnings: reader tortures (but mostly intimidates) a male, reader also has severe trauma that will be discussed later on. Swearing, crying, references to cutting , torturing, and blood. Az pretty much gets a boner from all of this, and also Cassian is here. I think I went a bit off canon as well. If I need to add any more TW, please let me know! Please do not read if you do not feel comfortable.

A/N: This is my attempt at writing anything multi-part for the first time in months, so I hope u can pull it off. This is Part 1, and Part 2 will be posted in the next coming weeks. Thank you to anyone who has supported my writing—I hope you like this one too :)

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, reply, or ask, it would be much appreciated <3

Azriel Masterlist

Part 1 I Part 2 I Part 3

In all of Azriel’s centuries of living, killing, torturing, and fucking, he had never seen a male quiver and crawl from his restraints so relentlessly.

When you entered his pitch black chamber, knives covering seemingly every ounce of your body, the male looked as if crawling out of his own skin would be better than even looking you in the eye.

He could only see your silhouette as you opened the iron door, making sure it was locked behind you as you closed it, and blood began to pump to his groin.

You were so…unexpected.

Rhys had come in only minutes ago, telling him about the spymaster from the Autumn Court who had practically dropped this male into his hands.

“She’s been tracking this group for weeks—months even,” he whispered to Azriel. “Beron spoke highly of her the last time we brought this group to his attention, and he agreed to let us use her. For now.”

Her.

Az would be lying if he wasn’t a little…intrigued.

Never once did he think a female was incapable of doing a job like his. He was only surprised by the fact that of all people, Beron had a female for his spymaster. He had his doubts that Beron put this female—you—into this position for the right reasons.

Either way, he was grateful. The “group” that Rhys was referring to were a group of rebel Illyrian males who did not like the way Rhys was running things. They had done enough damage in Illyria for Rhys to take notice, but when they started expanding further south, that is when the other Courts finally showed some interest.

Most notably—Beron. Hence why you were walking slowly into his chamber, covered in weapons, prepared to get information from this male no matter how bloody you got.

He saw the curves of your body take shape in the darkness, but it wasn’t until you stepped into the thin strip of light shining through the small window above your head.

His throat dried and his chest tightened.

Divine, he thought. Murderously so.

Had he dreamed you into existence?

You breezed past him, not even batting an eye. You were zeroed-in on the male strapped to the metal chair, huffing and pressing himself as far away from you as he could.

He got a whiff of your scent, and his eyes fluttered at its gravitational pull.

“Agnar,” you mumbled huskily, “it’s been too long.”

Az could only watch you work.

The male was breathing out of his nose, and sweat began to drip down his temple. His wrist restraints groaned from his badly he was pulling them.

“Did you get in trouble again?” you ask him, walking slowly towards him and pulling a knife from your thigh. “I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do that anymore.”

Your voice lowered more and more as you spoke.

“No—no,” the man whimpered, pressing the back of his head against the chair and meeting his gaze with Az’s. “Anything. I’ll tell you everything. Just get her—get her away from me.”

It was then that you decided to acknowledge that Az was even standing behind you. You turned your head to the side, giving him an illuminated view of your side profile, and only your eyes were turned towards him.

You scanned his body from his face to his feet and back up again, taking in his form. Any other male would think you were sizing him up, but Az knew you were taking note of every visible weapon he had on him and reading his body language.

Someone had trained you well. So well, that even Az felt a bead of sweat drip down his own back.

He cleared his throat before saying, “she’s fine where she is.” He nodded to you, and you gave him the subtlest of nods back. There were zero emotions present in your eyes.

You then turned your face forward once more, and continued.

“You can make this so simple, Agnar,” you said to the male, twirling your ruby-coated dagger in your hand, “and you can be out of here in no time.”

You leaned closer to him.

“Where is your group headed next,” you asked, slowly. “Tell me the exact location, and I won’t have to use this.”

The man continued to meet your intense gaze and swallowed grimly. He kept his chest puffed, attempting to keep any of his ego intact, but his body continued to shake at your proximity. It rattled so hard his feet were bouncing off the floor.

You grinned at his silence and pressed the tip of your knife to his leather-covered chest. He sucked in a breath.

You traced a line across the entire expanse of his chest, following some invisible line, before saying, “I can give you a matching one, if you’d like.”

A scar. You were tracing one of his scars. That you had given him.

“It seems unfair of me to only give you one,” you whispered, “when two will impress the females even more, won’t they?”

You had cut a scar that long across his chest? No wonder he was shaking so hard the chair was rattling.

“Come on Agnar. Just a location.”

You kept saying his name in such a way that was making his skin crawl. It bothered him to no end.

Az just…watched.

You pushed the tip of your blade into the center of his chest, not enough to touch skin, but enough to poke through the fabric. The male’s body went still as death.

“I went easy on you last time,” you grumbled, “I won’t make that mistake again—”

“Ironcrest,” the man shouts, heaving. “Ironcrest Camp. Their plan is to rally their forces at Ironcrest Camp.”

Your body tensed, as well as Az’s, and your voice somehow went deeper. “When?”

“I don’t know. I swear it on the cauldron.” He was practically weeping. “They’re having a meeting about it in a brothel somewhere in the Steppes seven nights from now, but that’s all I know. I swear it.”

You slowly pulled the tip of your knife from his clothing and backed away from him. The male audibly exhaled as you did, and he breathed deeper and slower the more you backed away from him.

Ironcrest.

Az’s mind started to spin. He knew of many brothels in the Steppes, and he hated every single one. The last thing he wanted to do was go anywhere near those places, but exploding a window or two wouldn’t hurt. He would honestly enjoy it.

The issue was: which brothel?

He ran over the names and locations of each one in his head, but the wheels in his head came to a screeching halt when you turned your frame towards his completely.

Gods.

The way the light was shining on you from overhead made you look ethereal. You looked lethal with a coating of death over your irises, and nothing could prepare him for how sexy he found you. Everything about you. From the leathers you were covered in to the way you held yourself.

He knew he shouldn’t be thinking that way. He had heard you say maybe twenty words in total, and you had only glanced his way once, but damn him if he wasn’t a bit hypnotized by you.

“I know the brothel,” you said to him, and he noticed how your voice had turned more neutral once you began to speak to him. “I can get there in more than enough time.”

You began to walk back towards the door, but he stuck his arm out in front of you, his hand hovering in front of your stomach.

“Wait,” he said, and your eyes met his again. “Rhys will need to hear about this. He will want me to go with you as well.”

“I don’t need your help,” you spat, and your breath coated the skin around his collarbone.

He didn’t know how to respond, so he lowered his hand from your stomach, and let you pass.

It wasn’t until his hand dropped to his side that he felt a tingle crawling up to his elbow, and the scent of you still lingering in his nose.

He exhaled when he heard the door close, and ran a hand down his face.

“I have never seen you so entranced, brother,” Cassian said from the shadows behind him, making him jolt.

Had he been there the whole time?

“Shall I tell Rhys that his spymaster cannot keep his dick in his pants around a pretty lady?”

Pretty lady.

An anger rose up inside Azriel, and he straightened his shoulders to tame it.

“Fuck off, Cas,” Az mumbled, and Cassian threw his head back in a laugh.

“Relax, brother,” he said and placed his hand on Az’s shoulder, shaking him a bit, “you’ll see her again soon enough.”

Az didn’t bother to watch Cassian leave.

Soon enough.

If only Azriel knew how truly unexpected you were about to become.

Tag list: (if you’d like to be added, please let me know! I apologize if your tag is not working/is not added)

@leahkenobi @notquitehero @lovelyladymayyy @seraphqueen123 @em---r @azaideen @katiebellf @llovelydove @tinasbookishlife @sayhitomommy @wickedazriel @xxpeachyxo @icarusave @forever-paramore28 @peachyxlynch @evlynclia @feyretopia @wingedmiken

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