#az x oc

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate pt 7

Summary - When Kaylee Archeron meets Azriel, her world turns upside down. Between balancing her trauma, new powers, a mating bond, and war looming over her new home, Kaylee learns everything is not as little as it once seemed.

Warnings - trauma response (shutting down and disassociation), Eris being an ass for the purpose of ✨️storyline✨️, desperation and angst on Azriel's end, possessiveness, some drived dialog/timeline changes, because ✨️fanfiction storyline/author got two events backwards ✨️, some angst

A/N - So, i realized as I was rereading this and the previous part, I got the meeting with Eris and Lucien going to find Vassa reversed on my timeline sheet. Excuse my mess up. I'll do a little Sarah style retcon to correct it. I thought about Eris sneaking her to the High Lord's meeting and rewriting this completely, but that would have been nearly impossible with Beron.

Alsp, Kaylee and Azriel will get a real reunion next time. And for those of you who like when men crawl and take accountability. It's for you 💙

Series Masterlist

Azriel Masterlist

The tension in the room was thick. Eris walked Kaylee to a waiting Azriel. “Safe and home, as promised, Shadowsinger.” 

Azriel took her with shaking hands, moving her to stand in front of him with a tight grip on her hips. 

Kaylee watched as the blonde male in the room began to smirk. “She looks lovely in my dear Morrigan's dress.”

Eris hummed in response. “She looks lovely in many things I presume.” Azriel's grip tightened and he took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure. 

Every fiber of his being, every primal instinct was begging him, no, yelling and screaming for him to slam Kaylee down on the table, fucking her in front of everyone in the damned room to mark her as his territory. 

A soft purr came into Kaylee’s mind as her eyes found the floor. Did you fuck him? 

No. He wanted to, but it didn't go that far.

Rhys, to his own surprise, maintained his composure as Eris and Keir spoke to each other. Did he tell you whose dress that was?

No, Kaylee answered again. He said it had been sitting in the Forest House.

Azriel is going to murder him. Calm your mate. Rhys left her mind before turning to Keir and Eris, beginning whatever meeting they had planned. Kaylee stroked the bond, gently and testing, trying to evade her mate's anger, while also not sending him hers.

Azriel's grip loosened, one arm wrapping her hips and the other coming to her shoulders. He was holding her tightly against him, the scent of cedar and chilled air filling her lungs, intoxicating her into a deep sense of weightlessness and peace, allowing her to zone out of whatever political mess Rhysand and Feyre were dealing with. 

He tugged the bond tight, ensuring the scent of it hit the air before resting his chin on your head.

Eris's eyes flicked your way, pulling another growl from deep inside of Azriel. The heir smirked before agreeing to whatever conditions Keir and Rhys had laid before him.

Kaylee distracted herself with Azriel's hands, the slow realization that the dress she was wearing belonged to Mor had set in. Meaning this male, the male whose arms she had slept in, who she had allowed to touch her, was Mor's ex fiancé. The one who had left her dear friend for dead.

Then, slow realization Eris was not Azriel's friend - not her friend - set in.

The slow realization he had used her set in. 

“You look well, Mor.”  Kaylee didn't miss the look in his eyes, that cold taunting distance. Only she didn't know who he was taunting. Mor appeared repulsed by his being here, hurt maybe, but would not take his bait.

“You don’t speak to her,” Azriel said softly. Eris looked at Kaylee as if he had been right about something. “I see you’re still holding a grudge. I imagine seeing your little mate in that dress and smelling like my bed makes it worse, doesn't it?”

Kaylee whimpered as Azriel's grip on her tightened. He was holding her so close to his chest it was no wonder they weren't one or that she could breathe.

“This arrangement, Eris,” Rhys said, “relies solely upon you keeping your mouth shut and your hands to yourself.”

His sarcastic laugh had Kaylee recoiling impossibly further into Azriel. “And haven’t I done an excellent job? Not even my father suspected when I left tonight. Nor will he smell her on me. I ensured just the two of them could deal with that. It hurts, doesn't it Azriel, when your mate has been touched by another male? When another male comforts her loneliness and calms her anger."

Azriel growled behind her, "If this is about Lucien thinking he caught Elain and I, you could not be more wrong about what happened that night."

Eris smirked, leaning further onto the table. "Sounds familiar."

Kaylee felt eyes on her, causing her to begin sinking further into herself. For once, to Rhysand's surprise, she ignored his beast calling for her, trying to comfort her. 

Kaylee had no interest in her magic right now. No interest in the fae. No interest in anything but getting back to Lucien. 

Lucien was safe.

Lucien didn't promise safety and then allow her to be taken and held hostage by a tyrant.

Lucien didn't promise her forever then fuck her sister.

Lucien didn't promise to keep her safe then use her for whatever game he had in mind.

No, Lucien was kind. He was warm. He was safe. Lucien, if Kaylee was being honest, may have been the best thing to walk into her life if this was the fate she was in store for.

What was the point of a mating bond, this great promise of unconditional love and equality, when the person, the fae, she corrected herself mentally, could so easily betray you and lie about it.

What was the point in this found family encompassing her and her sisters when she wasn't wanted nor welcome.

What was the point in trying to keep this light in her going? When instead she could let it burn out slowly and just feel nothing.

Azriel's grip softened when he felt emptiness from Kaylee. She wiggled from his grip, leaving his side and going to the door, Mor going after her. 

Kaylee didn't know where she was going, but she ignored Mor calling for her. Her feet led her blindly until she found herself in a room standing in front of Nesta. 

Morrigan stilled, watching as Nesta tilted Kaylee's face up to look at her. Amren was sniffing her and growled with an unmasked look of disgust. 

Nesta opened her mouth as Mor waited for the insults to fly. Her jaw dropping when instead a simple question was asked, “Who did this to you?” Kaylee shook her head rapidly, shoulders falling into sobs as she allowed Nesta to pull her into her chest. “I'm so sorry, Kaylee.”

Kaylee allowed Rhys to walk her to her room in the Riverhouse. The two of them didn't speak as he held her shoulders, taking her to the one safe place all of her friends would be able to reach her. 

He sat her down in front of the vanity, unbraiding and unpinning her hair in silence. “I just need to know if you were willing when he touched you,” Rhys didn't stop his work. “No one is mad at you. We all do not believe this was your fault. You were used, Kaylee. That's not your fault." It sounded like he was reminding himself of that as well, and like he was trying to stay together for her.

Kaylee nodded, unable to form words and stared towards the window.

Rhys felt himself shattering. 

All their progress with her was slipping away. Taken by a mistake, a misunderstanding, catalyzed by the oldest sister they found comforting her. “Kaylee, don't do this. Talk to me, please.”

Her eyes had gone hollow and empty. She shrugged at him. Shutting herself down completely. Rhysand turned her in the vanity chair, kneeling down to be face to face with her. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “Feyre loves you. Cassian loves you. Azriel loves you. Mor loves you. Amren is Amren,” he paused at her ghost of a smile. “You did nothing wrong.” He kissed her forehead, holding her close and hoping contact with him, with anyone from the Inner Circle would bring her back to them.

When she gave him no reaction, he sighed, forehead falling against hers, “Call for me or Fey if you need anything. Tug the bond if you want Azriel. We will all be at the House of Wind. We don't want you around Mor when she's like this."

And all she heard was, "We don't want you."

Kaylee tossed and turned in bed that night. 

She could feel something tugging for her, reaching out and calling for her like a siren spell. She got up opening the doors to her private balcony and shut her eyes, trying to feel for whatever wanted her. 

When she finally found it, the presence was so familiar she could hardly ignore it now, “I'm ready,” her hushed tone carried in the dead silence of the night, she moved back into her room, putting on clothing and packing a bag. 

Then find me, the voice was ancient and deep, rumbling in her soul.

She went down the steps, opening the bond to sense Azriel asleep and at peace for the first time since she had left with Lucien. 

“I'm sorry,” she whispered to no one as she walked far enough outside of the house's shield. “Forgive me.”

Azriel was in a deep sleep. Cassian and Rhys had all but forced a tonic down his throat, holding him back from going to Kaylee. 

His dream was paradise. The two of them were finally alone, sand from the beach covering their feet as golden sunlight reflected off stilled waters.

Eerily still waters Azriel realized. He blinked in confusion as the dream changed to him walking into a dark cave with nothing but a single torch lighting his way.

This all felt similar, like he had been here before, yet, he hadn't. 

And even in its similarity, it felt different. Instead of this being a dream, he was watching it through someone.

It wasn't until the deep growl came, followed by Kaylee gently shushing that realized he was. 

Azriel shot awake, tugging the bond, screaming through it, screaming for Rhys and Feyre. A shadow came to him, confirming his fear.

Kaylee was no longer in the Riverhouse. Nor the townhome. Nor did she climb 10,000 steps to the House of Wind.

He had never thrown his armor on quicker in his life, he had never strapped weapons to himself faster than he was now as the bond begged him to protect her this time. To fulfill his duty to her, to his mate. 

Rhys and Feyre rushed into his room, Cassian and Mor in tow. “Azriel, it's 3am. Why are you getting dressed and why are you yelling so loudly for us?” Rhysand's voice was heavy with sleep, Feyre leaning against him. 

“Kaylee isn't at the Riverhouse. She left and accidentally sent where she is down the bond. We need to go. Now.”

Cassian squeezed his eyes. “Az, Rhys left her there. She-”

“Is standing in a cave with a fucking fire drake, Cassian! My mate tracked down the fucking fire drake with her Dark Mother Cursed magic and is putting her life in danger.” 

Rhysand's face dropped as Azriel showed him. “Cassian, go get dressed. Feyre, Mor, go collect Madja and other healers. Now.”

The three Illyrians winnowed to the cave set by the ruins near the Prison. “All this time it's been this close to us, to Velaris,” Cassian muttered. “The last of the fire drakes, this close by.”

Smoke was billowing from the mouth of the cave, cause Azriel's stomach to drop. His only hope came in still feeling her. In feeling that faint opening she had accidentally left in the bond. He didn't wait for a plan, entering the cave despite the shouts coming from behind him.

He would find her, and when he did, he would beg, crawl, grovel. He would let Kaylee rip his heart out with his own dagger for just one moment to explain what happened, to plead for forgiveness, to beg her to give him a chance. 

One where Elain didn't interfere. 

One where he courted her properly. 

One where he knew it could be the end of their everything, but that he had at least tried. 

He found her centered in the deepest part of the cave. The fire drake had its head next to her. Its scarred and scaled body was relaxed, taking deep breaths as she shushed it gently, stroking right above its nose. 

Rhys and Cassian entered behind him, immediately noticing the same thing. “He's lonely,” Kaylee's voice wobbled, an evident sign she had been crying. “And he thought, maybe, just maybe, he and I could be lonely together.”

General taglist -

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

Bound by Fate Taglist-

@impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless

@cat-or-kitten @knmendiola @holb32

@mis-lil-red @minakay @whatsupb18 @deeshag @justdreamstars @pyrostatic @acourtofmarvels @no1massassin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @acourtofbatboydreams @mich0731 @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit

@coralseacourt @snoopyspace @tothestarsandwhateverend

[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: The beginning

This Is Chapter 1 (masterlist)

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

The Inner Circle noticed the change in Azriel almost immediately.

It started subtly. A missed meeting here, a late arrival there. At first, they chalked it up to his duties as the spymaster, knowing full well how deeply he was entangled in the shadows of Velaris and beyond. But as the days turned into weeks, Azriel’s absences grew more frequent, his presence more elusive.

Cassian was the first to voice his concern. “Anyone else noticed how Azriel’s been… disappearing?” he asked, frowning over the rim of his glass. They were gathered in the River House, the warmth of the hearth doing little to dispel the chill that had settled in the room.

Rhysand exchanged a glance with Feyre, his brow furrowed. “I’ve noticed,” he admitted. “But every time I reach out through the daemati, he’s always quick to assure me everything is fine. He’s been more secretive than usual, though.”

Mor, who had been unusually quiet, leaned forward, her eyes shadowed with worry. “I tried to ask him directly last week. He brushed me off, said it was nothing, just more work than usual. But… he looked exhausted, Rhys.”

It was true. When they did see Azriel, it was only for brief moments. He’d sweep in, dark circles under his eyes, his normally impeccable leathers rumpled as if he’d been up all night. He would give them a tight smile, exchange a few clipped words or go to his nephews, and then vanish again into the night. Even his shadows seemed quieter, more subdued, clinging to him like they too were weighed down by something unseen.

Feyre couldn’t shake the image of Azriel from her mind—the way he’d barely touched his food the last time they’d all sat down to dinner together, the way he’d flinched when Mor tried to touch his arm. There was something wrong, something deeply troubling, and it gnawed at her.

“I don’t like this,” Feyre said softly, her hand resting on the swell of her abdomen. “Azriel never lies to us, but it feels like he’s hiding something. Something big.”

Cassian’s hand clenched into a fist. “I’m going to drag him here if I have to. We need answers.”

But when Cassian did confront Azriel, it was like trying to catch smoke. The spymaster simply shrugged him off, his face impassive, his hazel eyes cold. “I’m fine, Cass. Just busy.”

“You look like death warmed over, Az. What’s going on?” Cassian pressed, frustration bleeding into his voice.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, shadows curling protectively around him. “It’s nothing you need to worry about.”

And that was the end of it. No matter how much Cassian prodded, how much Mor pleaded, how much Rhys tried to subtly pry into his mind, Azriel remained a stone wall. Implacable. Unyielding. Denying every question with the same cold, tired detachment.

It wasn’t until one particularly stormy night that Feyre finally cornered him. Azriel had returned to the River House, drenched from the rain, his normally sharp wings drooping with fatigue. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, his face gaunt, his eyes haunted.

Feyre intercepted him at the door, blocking his path with her small frame. “Azriel,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “We need to talk.”

He looked at her, and for a moment, she saw something flicker in his eyes—something like guilt, or maybe fear. But then it was gone, replaced by that cold, impenetrable mask. “There’s nothing to talk about, Feyre.”

She didn’t move. “Please, Az. We’re all worried about you. You’re hiding something, and it’s tearing you apart. Let us help.”

For a long, tense moment, he simply stared at her, the rain dripping from his hair onto the polished floor. Feyre held her breath, praying he would open up, let her in, let someone in. But then his shoulders slumped, and he shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Feyre. But I can’t. Not yet.”

And with that, he slipped past her, leaving her standing in the doorway, her heart heavy with a growing dread.

Whatever Azriel was hiding, it was tearing him apart. And if he didn’t let them in soon, Feyre feared it would destroy him.

The Inner Circle was united in their concern, but despite their best efforts, Azriel remained a ghost in their lives, always on the periphery, always slipping through their fingers.

It was Rhys who finally voiced what they were all thinking, his voice a low, worried murmur as they gathered in the dim light of the sitting room. “Whatever it is… it’s only a matter of time before it comes crashing down on him. And when it does, he'll open.”

They nodded in agreement, but a shared, unspoken fear hung heavy in the air: would Azriel let them catch him when he finally fell?

---

Dinner at the River House was usually a time of comfort and camaraderie, a rare moment when the Inner Circle could gather without the weight of the world pressing down on their shoulders. But tonight, the atmosphere was tense, the usual warmth replaced by a cold, uneasy silence. The kids played outside as the adults sat.

Azriel sat at the far end of the table, his plate barely touched. He pushed the food around absently, his mind clearly elsewhere. His face was shadowed, his eyes distant, and the weariness that had been growing in him for weeks was more pronounced than ever.

Feyre noticed the way his gaze flicked to the windows, as if he was counting the minutes until he could leave. Cassian and Mor exchanged worried glances, and Rhysand’s brows drew together in a frown.

They all felt it—the growing distance, the secrets he was keeping. But tonight wasn’t the night to push him further. Not when he looked so close to breaking.

“Azriel,” Feyre said gently as the meal drew to a close, “You barely ate. Are you sure you’re all right?”

Azriel looked up, his expression neutral but his eyes giving away his exhaustion. “I’m fine, Feyre. Just tired.”

Cassian opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Azriel stood, the movement abrupt. “I need to go,” he muttered, already turning toward the door. “There’s something I need to take care of.”

“Az—” Rhysand started, but Azriel was already halfway out of the room.

“Goodnight,” Azriel tossed over his shoulder, his voice a distant echo as he disappeared into the night, leaving the Inner Circle staring after him in stunned silence.

Outside, the cool night air hit him like a wave, clearing some of the fog from his mind. Without pausing, Azriel unfurled his wings and launched himself into the sky, the wind whipping through his hair as he flew faster, higher, needing to escape the concerned looks, the unspoken questions, the suffocating worry.

He flew over the glittering city of Velaris, its lights twinkling like stars reflected in the Sidra River. But he didn’t linger. He angled his wings and veered away, heading towards the mountains, towards the darkness that loomed just beyond the city’s borders.

The Hewn City was a stark contrast to Velaris, a place where shadows reigned and light was a rare commodity. Even from the sky, Azriel could feel the oppressive weight of the city, the malice that seeped from its very stones. But he didn’t hesitate. He descended into one of the darker parts of the city, where the narrow alleys were shrouded in perpetual twilight, where even the bravest of souls dared not tread.

Azriel landed silently in one such alley, the shadows welcoming him as an old friend. He folded his wings and moved quickly, his footsteps barely a whisper on the cobblestones. The buildings here were ancient, their facades cracked and worn, their windows dark and uninviting. But Azriel knew exactly where he was going.

At the end of the alley was a narrow staircase, worn smooth by centuries of use. He climbed it swiftly, his heartbeat quickening with each step. When he reached the top floor, he paused, gathering himself. Then, with a deep breath, he pushed open the door.

The apartment was small, barely more than a single room with a bed pushed against one wall and a fireplace that cast a warm, flickering glow across the space. But to Azriel, it was a sanctuary. A place where the world’s troubles fell away, where he could be someone other than the Spymaster of Night Court.

And there, in the center of the room, was the reason he kept coming back.

YN, his love, his secret, his everything, was standing by the window, bathed in the soft light of the fire. She was smaller than him by far, her frame delicate, her own scars glowing, her features soft and kind in a way that was the exact opposite of the harshness of the world he knew. Her eyes, so full of warmth and love, lit up when she saw him, a smile spreading across her lips.

But there was a reason Azriel had never mentioned her to the Inner Circle, why he kept this part of his life hidden even from those he trusted most. YN worked under one of the pleasure homes in the Hewn City, forced into servitude under the command of the Hewn City’s lords. It was a dark and cruel existence, one that Azriel despised with every fibre of his being.

The idea of the Inner Circle knowing the truth—that the woman he loved was bound to such a place—was unbearable. He had seen too much darkness in his life, and the thought of exposing YN to the judgment, pity, or even the well-intentioned attempts to “rescue” her from that life, filled him with dread.

But here, in the quiet of this small apartment, she wasn’t the servant of cruel masters. She was just YN, the woman who had captured his heart despite everything, who had chosen him despite the four hundred and fifty years that separated them.

And in her arms was their newborn son, Knox, a tiny, perfect symbol of the life they had created together despite the odds.

The infant was only two weeks old, a small bundle of life that had already become Azriel’s anchor. Knox was asleep, his small, peaceful face a reminder of all that was good and pure in the world. Azriel’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of them.

This was why he disappeared every night. This was the secret he guarded so fiercely, the reason for his exhaustion, his distraction. This was the life he had built in the shadows, away from the eyes of the world.

YN walked over to him, her steps light and sure. “You look tired,” she said softly, reaching up to touch his face, her fingers brushing against the dark circles under his eyes.

“I am,” Azriel admitted, his voice rough with emotion. He let her touch ground him, pulling him out of the dark places in his mind and back into the light of her presence. “But seeing you… seeing him… it makes it all worth it.”

YN’s smile was soft, her eyes filled with a love so deep it made his heart ache. “You’re pushing yourself too hard,” she whispered. “I told you that if coming here after work is too much stay in Velaris for the night.”

Azriel closed his eyes, leaning into her touch, savouring the warmth that radiated from her. He knew she was right, but the weight of his responsibilities, the need to protect them, to keep them safe from the dangers he faced daily, made it hard to let go. “I just want to keep you both safe. And need you,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

YN reached up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her touch gentle but firm. “You already do,” she whispered against his mouth. “Just being here, being with us… that’s all we need, just as much as you need us.”

Azriel wrapped his arms around her, careful not to disturb Knox, who slept on, blissfully unaware of the world’s troubles. He held them both close, feeling the tension that had been coiled inside him begin to unravel. In this small, hidden room, in the arms of the woman he loved and with his son safe in her embrace, Azriel finally allowed himself to breathe.

For now, the shadows could wait. Here, in the warmth of their love, he was home. And this home is just the beginning of their secrets...

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

[ninthcircleofprythian]

Dinner and Dessert

Azriel x Pregnant! OC (Mira)

Word Count - 3.6k

Summary - as his mate's due date approaches, Az can't handle the sight of her pregnant body in a sundress without going a bit feral.

Warnings - light swearing, pregnancy, descriptions of pregnant body, breeding k!ink (if you squint), tons of sexual tension, explicit sex described (oral f recieving, fingering f recieveing, p in v)

Author's Note - This fic was written for being the clear winner of this poll. Also, a special dedication to my fellow monkey brain @chairofchaos for being with me every step of the way as I wrote this and for being so very strong and not allowing me to spoil it as it came together. Enjoy pookie. 😘

“We really should have planned this out better you know,” Mira’s voice echoed through the entryway as she descended the stairs. The shadows made a swirling lap around her body as she landed on the last step, Azriel gliding from the living room doorway to meet her. 

“Planned what out better, my love?”

“Being this pregnant in the middle of summer,” she sighed. “Nothing fits anymore and I’m constantly hot. I swear I’m carrying a tiny furnace in here at this point.” Mira’s hands slid over the large swell of her belly, tucking the drape of her dress under it as she cradled the weight from below.

Azriel’s eyes tracked the movement, flaring with heat when her hands found their resting place. The roundness of her belly on full display in the flowing fabric.

“That dress,” his voice rumbled, eyes lingering along her frame as his wings gave a slight tremble.

“Like I said, nothing fits anymore,” his mate twisted her lips in a pout. “The options are limited.” Releasing the hold on her stomach, Mira brought her hands up to the neckline, tugging it back to a more conservative height.

In a flash, Az’s hand stilled hers as he stepped closer, chest pressing against her exposed shoulder as he stood at her side. With his other hand, he replaced the hold she had along the bottom of that beautiful mound. The thin summer weight fabric allowed her to feel every ridge along his palm as it slid into place and she shivered in his hold from the sensation.

“I’m not complaining,” Az whispered as he bent to nuzzle along that dangerously low neckline. “But if you aren’t comfortable, you could always take it off.” With a tilt of his head, he peeked up from her cleavage that was threatening to spill out with a darkened stare.

“Azriel, stop,” she giggled with a push against his shoulder. “We’re going to be late.”

“It’s fine,” came his mumbled reply from between her generous breasts. “Let’s be late.” One of his hands now slipped to the small of her back, the curvature deepened with the weight she now carried. A low groan sounded from his chest.

Az had always loved his mate’s body. Every soft spot and curve and blemish. But something about the last months, watching everything about it change and grow with his child growing inside her, made him insatiable. The dress she was now wearing with the hem dancing along her feet and the waistline settling on the top of that bump, was the final straw. He was done for. 

Just as he began to bend at the knee to scoop her into his arms, she shoved against him once more. “Azriel, seriously. Stop,” she laughed. “This is probably the last family dinner I’ll be able to go to for a while. I want to go. I don’t want to be late.”

“Ok,” he sulked momentarily. “You’re right. To dinner we shall go then.” He gestured widely with his arm towards the door in a mocking tease. “But you know we could spare some time if you would just let me winnow us there.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “I would prefer not to lose my appetite before dinner, thank you.” Ever since the pregnancy had neared its end, she couldn’t stomach winnowing any longer. The short step through the dark felt like more of a lurch and left her heaving afterwards and Az was entirely too nervous to fly with her in this state. “Besides, it's nice out - even if it is hot.”

“Fine. But we aren’t staying for dessert.” With a devilish grin, Azriel stooped to kiss his mate’s pouty lips. The hand along her back swept lower and with a start he pulled back, staring into her eyes with a look of shock.

“What?” she questioned with a furrowed brow.

“Mira, my love, are you –,” his hand explored a handful of her backside. “Are you not wearing any underwear?”

“Oh. Yeah,” she started as she made her way towards the door with a smug smile. “Those don’t fit anymore either.”

She let out another giggle as Azriel grumbled behind her, scrubbing one large hand down his face. “You’re fucking killing me.”

Thankfully, the walk to the River House was short enough that Mira wasn’t completely worn out. The entire way over she couldn’t help smiling as she noticed Azriel casually falling behind a few steps so he could get a long hard look at her backside as she walked. She may or may not have put a little more swagger in her already unsteady gait just for fun.

As she approached the front door, Azriel sidled up to her again. His hand slipped over her butt before settling low on her back, his fingers gently rubbing. Before she could even reach for the door handle, his other hand was once again cradling the underside of her protruding belly.

“What is with you today?,” she chuckled, nudging him with her shoulder.

“I can’t help it,” he smiled against her neck as he licked at the sheen of sweat that had gathered there. “You. This dress. Your beautiful belly with my baby inside. When I hold you like this, it feels like I’m holding my entire world in my hands.” He gave her a gentle tug as he settled his body closer, his hard length pressing through his clothing into her hip. Soft lips traveled up the side of her neck before nibbling at her earlobe. “It just does something to me,” he whispered.

“Az, honey,” Mira sang sweetly. “I’m starving.”

“Ok,” he said as he moved to stand behind her, his insistent hardness now pressing into her plump backside.

“We should go in.”

“Ok,” he mumbled against the back of her neck, hands now skimming over the flare of her hips.

“I need to open the door to do that.”

“Ok,” he whispered along one shoulder as both hands now cradled her belly. 

With a gentle lift he took the weight and shifted upward. The strain in her back instantly felt relief and the ache in her hips eased. The noise that left her was entirely involuntary as her hands gripped over his arms.

“Oooh, that feels so good,” she practically moaned and she felt his length twitch against her.

With a nip at her exposed shoulder, Az released his own sinful noise. “That is a very dangerous thing to say right about now.”

She didn’t even get the chance to respond as suddenly the door flung open. 

“I thought I heard someone out here,” Rhys said with a smirk, his violet eyes twinkling. “Dinner is ready if you are staying.”

“Yes, please,” Mira laughed as Rhys turned to head back inside and she moved to follow him. Azriel held back for just a moment as he adjusted himself outside on the doorstep.

Family dinner moved at a leisurely pace, much as it always did. Mira was in her element enjoying the conversation and food, laughing animatedly with their table mates. The night moved much too leisurely for Azriel however. He had begun the night with gentle touches, unable to keep his hands off his glowing mate. A hand along her thigh under the table, arm slung over the chair back caressing her shoulder with his fingertips, soft lips brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered to her.

Now, the touches were much more insistent and his leg bounced anxiously the entire time. A firm squeeze to her knee as Mira shifted in her seat, a sharp nibble to her shoulder as he tucked a pillow behind her back, a rough graze of his knuckles along her hip reminding him that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Like he needed the reminder. It was all he could think about.

As the conversation died down and the plates were cleared away, Mira stood stretching out her aching back. Instantly, Azriel was at her side, one arm slipping around her waist as he began ushering her towards the door. 

“Az, slow down,” she huffed out a laugh as he fought to keep his strides from outpacing hers.

“I made chocolate torte,” Elain’s musical voice announced from the dining room behind them.

“Ooooh,” Mira sighed as she twisted out of Az’s hold before he could flare out a wing to stop her. “Chocolate!”

She didn’t even make it a single step in the opposite direction before one scarred hand encircled her wrist. With a tender tug, she was spun back around into her mate’s arms and pressed tight to his chest. A protest bubbled in her throat but before she could voice it, Azriel drowned it out with a hard sweeping kiss.

Relaxing against him, she felt the hand gripping the back of her head tighten as his tongue dove in, finding its way to hers. Tangling and twisting, the kiss deepened. With a reluctant groan, Az pulled his face back and gazed into his mate’s eyes gauging her reaction.

Mira noted it had gone eerily quiet as he had kissed her. Suddenly she understood why. They were no longer standing in the River House foyer, but instead in their own shared bedroom.

“I thought if I distracted you first it wouldn’t make you sick,” Azriel smirked a sly grin.

“It worked,” she said breathlessly, flashing hot all over for reasons other than the weather.

His lopsided smile grew as he watched the color flood her face. Bending, he scooped his mate up in his arms and with one large step moved to the bed, depositing her squarely in the middle. 

Before she could get her elbows underneath herself to sit up some, he was tearing at his clothing. Belt ripped from his waistband followed quickly by his pants.

“Don’t move,’ he warned in a sultry tone as he watched her trying to pull herself up. The buttons of his shirt met their demise as they popped off with a tug.

Mira giggled as she heard them pop and hit the floor somewhere in the room. “I’m not even undressed.”

“Keep it on,” Azriel growled. 

Pulling her elbows from beneath herself, she fell back on the bed, watching as he began to crawl toward her. His large hand quickly found the hem of her dress that was now pushed up around her knees. Worming its way underneath, his skin met hers and before she knew it he was pushing against the inside of one leg.

She didn’t resist, knees parting as she made room for his body to settle between them. With a quick flutter of fabric, he disappeared, head buried underneath her dress and burrowing between her thighs.

A small sound of surprise squeaked out of her at his quickness, but it was covered immediately with a sharp gasp. In just a couple passes of his tongue, Azriel was at her clit and circling that sensitive bud. The grip on her hips increased as he moaned into her folds, the vibration caused her breath to shudder.

“I thought about this all through dinner,” he rumbled before lapping insistently at her arousal. “You. Completely bare. Ready and waiting for me under this dress.” He accentuated his words with hard passes of his tongue between them.

Mira’s breaths were hardly more than quick pants now as his tongue continued those circles with ferocity. Dipping down to gather more of her arousal along his tongue, she let out a whining moan.

Tongue returning to its task, one hand released her leg and snaked its way to her entrance, fingertips teasing.

“Az,” she whimpered.

Slowly, he began pressing a finger into her core. 

“Az, wait,” she panted. “Hold on a second.”

He felt her shifting her hips within his grasp as he flipped her dress off of his head. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice carried a hint of panic as he noticed one of her arms cradling her belly.

“I need to move,” she shifted her hips once more in an effort to slide onto her side. “I can’t breathe well on my back like this.”

His panic subdued, he quickly raised himself up into a kneel and helped her to roll more comfortably on her side. Leaning to grab a pillow, he had her lift a bit so he could tuck in beneath her belly for support.

“Better?” he asked with a tender trailing sweep of his hand over her stretched skin. 

“Much,” she sighed contented. “You can continue.”

Azriel belted out a ringing laugh. “Gladly, my love.”

Pulling her bottom leg straight out along the bed, he laid himself across the end of the mattress. Mira lifted her top leg as Az laid his head on the pillow of her thigh. Grabbing her lifted leg under the knee, he propped it against his body so that her foot was planted against his ribs before tucking his arm over it. 

“Now where was I?” he pondered aloud. “Here?” He lapped one long strip through her folds.

“Or, maybe it was –,” another pass of his tongue had him barely grazing her clit. “Here?”

“Azriel, don’t tease,” she pleaded as she dug her heel into his ribcage. 

“Yes, it was here,” he smiled wickedly to himself. With the same quickness as before, Az dove back in like a starved male. Driving his tongue against that throbbing bud, he brought his fingers back to her entrance. 

Now able to draw in a full breath, Mira was gasping and moaning with intensity with each flick against her. He couldn’t keep up with the arousal that dripped from her, coating his fingers as he inserted two of them fully. 

“Ah! Yes-Az” She cried out loudly, gripping the sheets in front of her face.

Setting a solid steady pace with his hand, he drew her clit between his lips and pulled, creating suction against it as he flicked against it. 

Her cries became a scream as the leg propped against him trembled. Pulling his other arm from beneath him, he reached up, gliding his palm along her taut stomach and pressed gently where he knew she felt that familiar tightening sensation. 

Her back arched and pressed her belly deeper into his palm. Azriel felt the beginning ripples of her climax roll over his fingers from inside her. With a pull, he curled them. 

That’s when all the breath left her. The pressure against that sweet spot inside left her hanging on a gasping cry. Every muscle in her back and legs tensed in unison as that white hot pleasure crashed through her.The intense clench of her walls pulsed over his fingers. The sweeping ripple through her belly against his palm made him pant out in surprise. As she came down from that peak, Az gave one light pass of his tongue over her clit, feeling her jolt against him before pulling his face back and slowly withdrawing his fingers.

Easing her leg from over his body, he brought himself up and curled his body around her from behind. Sweeping her hair away from her neck, Az nestled his lips against her heated skin, the tips of his fingers trailing lightly over her side. Mira was still slowing her labored breath as she pressed a palm to the side of her clothed belly.

“Does it hurt?” Az asked with a slightly worried tone.

“No,” she sighed contentedly. “It was just - intense.” She let out a satisfied hum as his palm replaced hers, finding that tight muscle with ease. 

Wiggling deeper into the mattress, she felt his still adamant hardness pressed against her. “What are you thinking about back there?” She laughed, arching her butt against him.

“You already know the answer to that,” he said gruffly into her neck. After a beat of pause he brought his lips to the shell of her ear. “What are you thinking about?”

He felt her tremble as his breath coasted over that sensitive spot and he couldn’t resist giving it a teasing lick as well.

“Mmm,” she groaned, pushing back against him harder. “I’m thinking about – chocolate.” Her merry laugh rang through the space as Az huffed his own amusement against her temple. “Among other things,” she said in a low tone. Reaching her arm back, she grazed her nails along his hip, the brush of her skin causing him to buck against her involuntarily.

“Help me,” she said as her hand left his hip and grabbed the fabric bunched around her hips. “It’s too hot for this.”

Pushing into a kneel once more, Az helped her maneuver the dress from her body, revealing more and more of her full frame as he did. Tossing the dress to the floor, he paused for a moment, kneeling behind her bent knees in awe.

Fully exposed and still laying on her side, every voluptuous asset was on full display. His hands explored the access this position afforded him. Every curve that drove him wild easily reached. Her heavy breasts that filled his palms, her ample ass that jiggled when he grabbed it, her firm belly that held their child within. His child. 

With a teasing bite to her luscious thigh, Az once again pulled her lower leg straight before straddling his legs over it. Grabbing her other ankle, he wrapped her leg around his waist, holding it firmly above his hip bone. 

Shifting closer, he notched his length against her exposed entrance. His hand smoothly followed the curve of her butt before dipping into the arc of her lower back. That deepened well, strained with the weight of the child she carried left him powerless. 

As he pushed his hips against her arousal slicked core and entered her fully, Mira moaned. And Azriel whimpered. 

He had known all along that this moment would be his undoing. He had ensured that she received her pleasure first and foremost before he buried himself in her warmth knowing that he was unlikely to hold out. As his hips found their rhythm, he folded himself over, nuzzling at her breast with a moan. 

The tight pull of his climax was building in intensity with each thrust. He held back his need to drive himself harder, relishing in the pleasure of his soft rhythm. Mira’s arm snaked under his chest attempting to reach between her parted thighs. With her belly in the way, she couldn’t find purchase against the aching need that pulsed there. Lifting up slightly, Az threw her arm over his shoulder and replaced her reach with his own, thumb dancing deliciously against her clit. 

She began writhing underneath him, her quiet pants and sultry moans building in intensity until he felt her fluttering around him. He no longer held back, pushing himself desperately into her with a snap of his hips. Her arm grasped against his back, scratching at the space between his wings. 

“Az. Az. Az,” she moaned breathlessly with each thrust he gave. He couldn’t bring himself to produce any sound in return, every bit of his energy concentrated on the feeling of her walls constricting his twitching length. Another thrust and she was coming apart beneath him, clenching hard around him. One more and his own release was barreling through him.

Her name left his lips in a cry. Every pulse of release stole his breath further until he collapsed on top of her gasping for air.

Moments passed as they collected their breath before Az shifted into a roll carefully avoiding landing his weight on his mate’s belly and settled in front of her. Her middle pressed against his own, his hand swept tenderly back and forth over it. Her eyes slipped closed and her breath evened out into the quiet pattern of almost sleep.

“Tired?” he asked, brushing the hair from her face. 

“Mhm,” she replied in a sigh, rubbing her cheek into his palm.

Azriel remained as he was, hand cradling her face as he stared at his mate in wonder. His mate. His partner through life. The mother of his child. 

“I’ll be right back,” he said as he removed his hand and replaced it with a kiss. Mira just gave another throaty noise in response, not bothering to open her eyes.

Some minutes later, Mira was awoken from slumber as Azriel cursed to himself. Popping her eyes open she watched as he stumbled through the bedroom door, arms laden with a tray in one hand and a steaming mug in another. Kicking the door shut behind him with his heel she noticed he was once again fully dressed. 

“Where did you go?” she asked sleepily as she pulled herself up to sitting, dragging the blanket Az had left over her up around her chest. 

“I felt bad that I made you skip dessert,” he smiled at her as he lowered the tray over her lap. Upon the tray sat half of Elain’s chocolate torte, still in its original pan, two forks laid across the empty half. 

“Oh, Azriel,” she brightened with delight, grabbing his face as he bent to place the mug on the tray as well. “I love you. I love you. I love you,” she giggled as she peppered his face with kisses. 

Turning back to the tray, she snatched the torte pan and settled it squarely on top of her round belly, digging in expeditiously. 

“Mmm,” she moaned, closing her eyes as she savored the rich taste.

“It almost sounds like the chocolate is better than the sex,” Az teased as he climbed into bed next to her. 

“Oh,” she laughed. “It’s definitely up there,” she held her thumb and forefinger apart barely touching as she squinted at him.  “A very close second I’d say.”

Az released a booming laugh before he too grabbed a fork and settled in for dessert.

[azrielsshadows42]

Tell me this isn't Azriel

That's right, you can't

[coralseacourt]

Broken Love 🪸by @coralseacourt

Summery: The youngest Acheron Sister gets rejected for Elain

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Azriel X O/C

He broke me.

Left me in Pieces

He took my heart away.

Held it in his hands , before squeezing it slowly.

Until nothing of it was left to be repaired.

2 months prior.

I was fae. My skin flawless with only a hint of color to my cheeks. My long ash blonde hair had turned more gold and shiny than they ever had been.

I was sitting in front of the mirror staring at myself, bright green eyes looking back at me.

So much had happened since Hybern, my life had changed completely.

No more poverty , warm nights instead of the cold rifts that had swept through our House.

A clear view of a starlit city and not the so familiar colorless woods.

I couldn’t identify myself with the person staring back at me and i had no one to share it with.

Feyre was now High lady and a mother with a lot of responsibilities.

But this meant also that she had less time to be present in my life, which I didn’t fault her for.

It also wasn’t her fault that I somehow always seemed to be invisible to everyone. Nesta and Elain had never been interested enough in me to care.

They had each other.

After all of the Events in the last months i had started to feel lonely. I had thought that with the birth of nyx I could be more involved, maybe helping feyre out with the baby.

But I only had seen him once which was weeks ago. They had invited me to Dinner I had been so excited to get out and see my nephew but the evening had ended with everyone interacting with each other and me sitting alone in a corner of the room .

That was the moment I decided I would not go again.

And it seemed I had gotten what I wanted. I wasn’t invited to another Dinner.

I couldn’t understand what I did wrong.

At the beginning I had thought Azriel would be a friend. He had offered me his favorite books to read .

We had talked. Sometimes all night long.

But then it stopped and I had noticed the looks he had given Elain.

Of course he looked at her, not me. She was beautiful. Even more since she was Fae

As much as I didn’t want to admit it to myself I had loved his attention , had loved that he had cared.

Something I never had experienced from anyone else besides Feyre.

I pulled my knees to my chest and laid my chin on them. Maybe I was a ghost , haunting everyone around me with my company.

I shook slightly my head and stood slowly up to leave for Dinner in the big Hall. No one ever joined me .

Cassian had at the beginning, before him and nesta were mated.

Now I was a third wheel and I had changed my dinner time early enough so he still would be at training while I was eating.

I entered the big hall and sat on the long empty table .

My food arrived immediately after.

Potatos ,red cabbage and a meat loaf.

It looked delicious, but it tasted like paper in my mouth.

I leaned my head on my hand while poking around in my meat.

”Is Everything alright, violet?”

I looked up , surprised to see Rhys leaning against one of the pillars that connected the flooring with the Sealing.

His entire Form screamed suspicion and my alarm bells started to ring. “Yes of course, why wouldn’t it be ?”

I tried not to look away from his narrowed eyes so cold and calculating.

”It’s been a while since you joined us for Dinner and I had to wonder why that is.” I shrugged nervously my shoulders, not sure what to say . But decided to tell the truth.

“ I wasn’t invited,” He raised his eyebrow and I continued.

“And even if I would have been invited , I probably wouldn’t have come.”

Surprise lit his face.

Possibly because he didn’t expected me to answer honestly?

I m sure he had read something in my Head.

I hadn’t practiced to build up walls around my mind, hadn’t seen the need for it.

I had no powers.

I was practically invisible to everyone especially Rhysand , who would have only cared if I had any magic.

Which i hadn’t.

“Why wouldn’t you have come? Are you not happy for your sisters? Are we not providing you with everything you need?”

I gulped at his words, sometimes I had the feeling Rhys was waiting for something.

Like a hawk with his prey.

“ Yes , thank you I do appreciate it. And I m very happy for them. “ Whatever Rhys saw in my mind seemed to satisfy him. His arms relaxed and his facial expression calmed down but was replaced with confusion.

“I don’t understand .” It seemed to bother him.

“ It’s just .” I stopped myself not sure how to explain.

So I showed him. The loneliness, the feeling of invisibility.

It took less effort than having to explain.

“Do you want to be seen?”

Was all he said , his hands tugged away in his pants pockets before turning around and just leaving.

Did I?

All night I had to think about his words. Did I want to be seen?

Did I do this to myself?

This isolation?

I planned to change everything starting tomorrow morning.

🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸

The next morning I was up early.

I put some comfortable pants on and a shirt that I could properly move in.

When I walked into the dining hall for breakfast, I had 3 pairs of eyes on me. Azriel, Nesta and Cassian were sitting together at the table.

I took my seat next to Azriel and started shuffling my food down, still feeling their stares.

“What are you doing up so early?”

Looking over to the big Illyrian that my sister was mated to I answered.

“ I was thinking that maybe I could participate in training today, if that’s ok. “

“No.”

My sister seemed to almost smoke from anger .

I couldn’t hide my surprise.

“No? Why? Everyone is allowed to.

The priestesses,you even Elain started recently.”

I was frustrated now .

I had to do something, I didn’t want to sit around and be miserable.

“That’s different, we earned it. You didn’t.”

Both males stared at nesta like she had grown a third eye.

“ Nesta I m sure we could start her on some easy warm ups.” A soft spoken voice next to me stated. Az.

“I m not helping her . If she is doing anything, she will have to do it with one of you.”

And with that she stood up and left.

“I go talk to her violet, she doesn’t mean it.” “She does, and you know it.”

He only gave me an apologetic look before leaving.

“If you like then i could train you.”

I looked at the Shadowsinger beside me and gave him a small smile .

“Alright. Thank you I really appreciate it.”

🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸

We started training immediately.

Spending daily time with each other .

It felt like it had at the beginning.

I knew he only did it because he felt bad for me but I couldn’t help falling for him .

His soft way of talking with me .

All the ways he tried to make me stronger with each training session.

It was what I had always wanted ,being useful.

Having someone that is willing to listen and understand me.

Everything was how it should be until the faithful day where everything changed.

🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸🐚🪸

“Arms up , like this.” Azriel pulled my arms higher making my position slightly straighter.

“Yes and don’t lose tension . Keep it exactly this way and don’t lower your eyes .”

I nodded.

Sweat running down my face, my breathing heavy and my muscles hurting.

“Violet , I said don’t look down.” He was standing in front of me his hair tousled and his eyes glowing with anger.

“ If you don’t listen to what I say, then this is useless. “ He pulled on my arm twisting it and throwing me on the floor with him on top of me his dagger pressed to my throat.

“ See. This is what happens if you lose tension in your arms, anyone could use your weakness against you.”

He was looking down on me.

Eyes so intense that I couldn’t look away. Could only feel his weight on me .

My stomach tightened. My heart raced. “Do better, learn faster, pay atten…”

His voice stopped mid sentence.

Nostrils flared, pupils blackened.

Oh god could he smell my arousal?

My cheeks flamed and Embarrassment grew inside of me.

“I …I “.

I didn’t know what to say he still had the knife pressed against my Throat.

Which he now threw to the side of the ring .

“Are you attracted to me?”

His voice was Shocked, completely stunned.

I bit my lip and tried not to crumble under his gaze.

What a fool I must be.

He was here. Spending his time helping me train and I wasn’t even able to keep my feelings to myself.

His eyes darted to my lip movements and he nervously wetted his own.

“Are you?”

“Yes .” It was senseless to deny it, he clearly could smell it.

My head turned to the side, looking at the training equipment.

Everything was better to look at then seeing his face in that moment .

“ You shouldn’t.”

His hand softly pressed against my cheek turning me back towards him.

But instead of taking it directly away again, he dragged his thumb slowly over my cheek towards my lips.

Touching them. Opening them slightly.

I gasped quietly.

His smell was intoxicating.

It filled my lungs with the heavenly scent of Cedar and Night Rain .

In one sudden move he turned us and i now was on top of him straddling his Hip.

I shivered, when I could feel something hard touching my core.

His hand dragged me down to him.

Our mouths so close I could feel his warm breath on my skin.

“You really shouldn’t .”

His eyes glowed darkly before he pressed his lips against mine .

I couldn’t believe it.

Was this really happening?

I kissed him back and completely surrendered myself to him.

His tongue licked slowly over my lips telling me to open . Which I happily did.

I could feel his hands roaming over me.

Touching, grabbing .

The heat between my thighs getting unbearable.

His mouth started to wander in a wild and impatient way, going down my Throat.

Biting, teasing.

I couldn’t hold the sounds back that emerged from me.

“Azriel “.

I groaned his Name when he started to move my Hips against his in a rhythmic way .

I had never felt something like this.

My heart was pounding and something was building up.

I bit my lip while still feeling his kisses on me .

But in one Moment I was in heaven and the next he threw me off.

I landed on my back a couple feet’s away from him.

Looking up the sealing and trying to catch my breath , I blinked confused.

“I need to go . Elain is waiting for me.” And with that he stood up and practically ran from the training room.

Part 2,

[lanitalay]

ACOTAR Masterlist

*indicates smut

Azriel:

Before I Say Goodnight- 21st century reader gets sucked into the world of ACOTAR in this multi-part fic. Slow burn, wholesome romance <3 (21 parts, completed)

Cowboy like me*

One Day- Series, completed. Based on the Netflix series.

In the dark, a light

Supernatural, supernatural 2

Eris:

Soon

Renegade

When a High Lord is powerless.

When a High Lord is powerless (for the first time)

Among Flames and Starlight - New multi part fic (forced proximity/enemies to lovers) (Eventual Eris x Oc) (love triangle)

Lucien:

In the woods somehwhere

What is Left and What is Lost

A Winter Night Made Fire

Rhysand:

At sea, part 2, part 3

Cassian

Back to the basics

In the cover of night, star-crossed lovers meet.

[going-through-shit]

the way i’m scrolling on my fyp connecting everything i see to @rhysazriel ‘s Plug!azriel x reader BECAUSE ITS ON 👏MY👏MIND👏 AUGH. it was acc so amazing i can’t even describe !! go read it if you haven’t i love and adore everything she writes, for reallllsss !

[daycourtofficial]

Hope yall bitches aren’t tired of me posting about Eris once Eris week is over because the drafts I didn’t get to….

[lokalblackie]

"-In other news, Gothamites rummage to pack their bags because a sudden wave of death has spread through the nocturnal streets of the more crime ridden parts of Gotham. The spontanious deaths of three of Gotham's supervillains has put citizens in a panic. Is this the rise of a new crime lord or... something worse?"

News reporters everywhere scrambled to get a few good words in before this story gets swept under the rug. Before exaggerated headlines like; "NEW GOTHAM CRIME LORD HAS PEOPLE ESCAPING TO CALIFORNIA OF ALL PLACES?!" are forgotten in the matrix. Before this story isn't relevant anymore.

Podcasters and commentary media outlets are getting their few good theories in too. Saying things like; "Y'all, the government is messing with us. Scarecrow ain't dead. It's probably the same fake terrorist attacks Hitler implemented to get the German's under his rule. Don't fall for this trap y'all."

And homeless druggies are getting a few couple bucks out this story too. Charging journalists a big buck for false news. The street scammers are jumping for joy right now. "I was there! I saw it happen! It was one of them Russians. The Soviets are comin' for us."

Bruce was amused. Everywhere he went, this shit was smeared. Popping up in his face as if he hadn't seen the other hundred different pop-ups of this story yet. He thought what any other reasonable citizen thought. "This shit's gonna disappear in a week. Trust me bro"

...

Its been a week.

People are still on this?! Maybe it is serious... Should he take a look into this? Nah it's fine. Give it another week or so. It'll blow away like all other "viral" stories...

...Right?

[cielob03]

Art from August 2024. [Hazbin Hotel- Apology Tour Collab // Az x Lito // Fan Art // Helluva Boss]. --- Non-canon OC content. ---

Translation: Az: "Come on Lito, let's leave this IDIOT alone, and let's fly together, sweetheart." Well, why waste time with an indecisive Bambi, a simple sinner and a mommy's boy, when you can be next to an Angel of Death like Az? 😏

Especially one as pretty as her. Come on Lito! Accept and be happy! Both of them can fly together, take care of each other and repair their hearts wounded by Alastor! 💙 Leave that ugly demon Bambi, you're both angels, don't lower yourselves with leftovers from hell please (??? oknoalastorIloveyouitwasn'ttrueforgivemecutebaby. Thanks a lot to Malidunn, for participating in this collab with me! x'3 Let our babies love each other jsjs. Az is so beautiful!, I fall in love every time I see her! If Alastor doesn't get his act together, I'm going to steal her. >:C

✨💙 I hope you like it! :3 💙✨

Malidunn Social Networks: 💙Facebook: www.facebook.com/MalidunnArt 💟Instagram: www.instagram.com/malidunn

[retromotherfuckers]

ACOTAR - Masterlist

angst: ♤

fluff: ♡

major tw: ♢

minor tw: ♧

Rhysand

One Shots:

Violet Eyes, Red ♤♢

You and your mate reunite after Feyre defeats Amarantha. The fallout of what the bitch did to him.

Cassian

coming soon…

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED/REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM. NOR DO I GIVE PERMISSION FOR IT TO BE PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. DUE TO THE SUBJECT MATTER, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MNDI

[readychilledwine]

Azriel x Lyria Vanserra Masterlist

The Collecton of Stories revolving around Azriel and his mate Lyria Vanserra

Slow Hands

After a mission leaves Az sore, Madja and Rhys suggest he sees Lyria, a healer who specializes in massage therapy (Azriel x Vanserra Sister OC) -Smut Part One** Part Two **

Fours Company

After hearing about Lyria and Azriel's agreement and arrangement with Feyre and Rhys, Nesta and Cassian are desperate for a taste Part One** Part Two**

A Brother's Love - Eris Week 2023

Eris contemplates his childhood nightmares after his younger sister suffers at Beron's hands.

Thread and Finery

The three Vanserra siblings are about to attend Lyria's first Night Court Solstice party, so the three of them do what they do best. Coordinate outfits. Lyria, Lucien, and Eris

From This Day Until Our Last **

what do you buy the male who says he has everything he could ever want?

Touch

After Lyria is cornered and attacked, Azriel takes matters into his own hands.

Olive Branch (Lyria x Rhys UTM) - Coming soon

Self Care Sundays (aka the Massage Series) -Coming Soon

In an effort to get to know Azriel's family, he puts them all on your schedule for self care day. He just seems to have forgotten that Sundays are for her brothers. 10 spa session mini series to answer an ask regarding Lyria's relationship with the Inner Circle and Lucien and Eris Mor Cassian Amren Nesta Elain Azriel Rhys Feyre Eris Lucien

[callsigns-haze]

His Shadow: Chp 5

masterlist part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Azriel, secretly juggling his responsibilities and personal life, maintains a hidden relationship with YN, who works at a pleasure house in the Hewn City. She was his light, his love, his passion. Yet being his darkest secret is a hard role because life in the Hewn as a young female isn't the easiest as the two of you hold an even dark secret yet to be told...

Pairing: Azriel x reader

This series contains mature themes: Explicit depictions of violence, including physical and emotional. Themes of secrecy. Descriptions of difficult relationships, including strained familial and romantic dynamics. Mature sexual content. Themes of power, control, and manipulation within complex interpersonal relationships. Discussions of parenthood and the challenges associated with it, including postpartum experiences.

In the cozy, firelit warmth of the sitting room at the River House, Rhysand, Cassian, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor gathered, their conversation initially light, but soon shifting to more serious matters. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the faces of those present. Feyre sat comfortably beside Rhys, her hand resting on his, while Nesta lounged with a cup of tea, and Mor leaned back in her chair, a curious smile playing on her lips as she sensed the shift in the conversation.

Cassian, his usual easy-going demeanour tempered by a hint of concern, spoke first. “There’s something we wanted to discuss with you, ladies. Rhys and I... well, we’ve been noticing something off with Azriel lately.”

Feyre’s brow furrowed as she looked between her mate and Cassian. “What do you mean? Is he alright?”

Rhysand leaned forward, his violet eyes serious. “It’s hard to say. He’s been more withdrawn than usual, and we think we might know why. Yesterday, when Cassian and I were out... well, let’s just say we ended up at a certain pleasure house in the Hewn City.”

Mor raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, while Nesta sipped her tea, her expression unreadable but her eyes sharp with interest.

“While we were there,” Cassian continued, “we met a woman—YN. She works there, and... well, there’s something about her. Something that seems connected to Azriel’s recent behaviour.”

Feyre frowned, her thoughts racing. “Connected how?”

Rhys exchanged a glance with Cassian before answering. “She mentioned she has a baby, and a boyfriend. But there was something off about the way she spoke, as if she was hiding something. And today, we overheard her talking with one of the other employees. She mentioned she’s going shopping tomorrow. It got us thinking.”

Nesta’s gaze sharpened. “You think she’s involved in whatever’s been bothering Azriel?”

“We’re not sure,” Cassian admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But something about it all doesn’t sit right. Azriel has been acting strange, and we know he’s been keeping secrets. YN might be part of that.”

Feyre’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she considered this. “You’re suggesting we keep an eye on her? Maybe follow her while she’s shopping?”

Rhys nodded. “Exactly. If we can figure out what’s going on, we might be able to help Azriel. He’s been carrying something heavy, and we need to know if she’s involved.”

Mor’s smile faded into a more serious expression. “Do you really think this woman could be a threat?”

“Not necessarily a threat,” Rhys said carefully. “But she might be the key to understanding why Azriel has been so distant. If she’s somehow involved in whatever he’s going through, it’s worth looking into.”

Nesta leaned forward, setting her teacup down with a decisive clink. “So, you want us to go to the Hewn City, shop around, and see what we can find out?”

Rhys nodded. “Exactly. It’s a perfect cover—just a day out shopping. No one would suspect anything. But keep your eyes and ears open.”

Feyre, ever protective of her family, glanced at her sister and Mor before nodding. “We can do that. We’ll go tomorrow and see what we can learn.”

Cassian grinned, his usual mischief returning. “Just try not to get into too much trouble.”

Nesta shot him a dry look. “Speak for yourself, Cassian.”

The room fell into a comfortable silence as the women considered the plan, the gravity of the situation weighing on them. But before they could delve deeper into the details, the sound of approaching footsteps made them all fall silent. The atmosphere shifted as Azriel walked into the room, his presence immediately felt by everyone.

“Evening,” Azriel greeted, his voice as calm and measured as ever, though his sharp gaze seemed to linger on Rhysand and Cassian, as if he sensed the undercurrent of tension.

“Azriel,” Rhysand greeted smoothly, masking any trace of the conversation that had just taken place. “We were just catching up. How was your day?”

Azriel studied them for a moment, his expression unreadable as always, before nodding slightly. “Productive. Any new developments?”

“Nothing worth noting,” Cassian said casually, though there was an almost imperceptible tension in his posture. “Just the usual.”

Azriel didn’t seem entirely convinced, but he let it slide, moving to stand by the window, his gaze distant as he looked out at the night sky. The others exchanged a brief glance, silently agreeing to keep their suspicions to themselves for now. There would be time to investigate tomorrow, and until then, they would carry on as if nothing had changed.

But as the conversation shifted to more mundane topics, each of them knew that something had shifted. Secrets were being kept—by all of them—and the truth was only growing more complicated with each passing day.

---

The next day, Feyre, Nesta, and Mor found themselves in the bustling streets of the Hewn City. Despite its dark reputation, the city was alive with activity, the market streets crowded with merchants hawking their wares, and shoppers moving between the various stalls and shops. Feyre kept her hood up, blending into the shadows cast by the tall buildings, though she still felt the weight of curious glances as they walked. She had been to the Hewn City before, but never for something as delicate as this.

As they approached the heart of the market district, Feyre felt Rhysand’s presence brush against her mind, his voice a soft whisper in her thoughts. She’s just ahead, looking at some baby clothes. You’ll recognize her by the dark hair and the buggy. Along with his words came a series of images—snapshots of YN that Rhys had seen when he and Cassian visited the pleasure house with Azriel. A woman with soft, dark hair, delicate features, and an air of quiet strength, even in the depths of the Hewn City.

“Got it,” Feyre whispered back, nodding slightly as she looked to Nesta and Mor, who were both scanning the crowd. “She’s just ahead. Let’s keep our distance.”

The three women wove their way through the crowd, carefully avoiding drawing any attention. The further they walked, the darker the shops became—both in ambiance and in merchandise. The shift was subtle, the luxury of the Hewn City marred by the unmistakable undertone of cruelty and excess. Feyre’s gaze flicked from shadowed alleyways to the opulent yet ominous storefronts, the contrast of the city always unsettling her.

Finally, they spotted YN. She was pushing a simple buggy, dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a cozy sweater, her hair pulled back in a loose bun. The baby in the buggy was small, barely a few weeks old, wrapped snugly in a soft blanket. YN’s movements were slow, deliberate, as she browsed through a rack of tiny clothes, her eyes scanning the options with the intent focus of a mother lost in her thoughts.

“There she is,” Mor murmured, nodding subtly towards YN. Feyre and Nesta followed her gaze, taking in the sight of the woman who had unknowingly become a focal point of their investigation.

Feyre watched as YN reached out to touch a soft onesie, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she ran her fingers over the fabric. Her expression, though serene, carried a weight of exhaustion—something Feyre recognized all too well from her own early days with Nyx.

As YN continued to shop, the baby in the buggy began to fuss, tiny whimpers breaking the quiet air around them. YN immediately turned her attention to her child, her smile softening as she bent down to pick up the baby, cradling him against her chest. She rocked gently, her lips moving in what Feyre could only assume were soothing words.

“Is that...?” Nesta started, her voice low as she observed the interaction.

“I think so,” Feyre replied, keeping her voice just as quiet. “The baby must be hers. The one she mentioned to Cassian and Rhys.”

Mor narrowed her eyes slightly as she watched YN. “She doesn’t seem like a threat. But still... there’s something more going on here.”

Feyre nodded in agreement. YN’s demeanour, her clothing, the way she cradled her baby—none of it aligned with the typical image of someone who might be a danger or have any influence over Azriel. She seemed more like a woman trying to balance the weight of motherhood with whatever burdens life had thrown her way.

They kept their distance as YN continued to shop, picking out a few more baby items and placing them in the buggy’s basket. Her movements were unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world, though the lines of tension in her posture suggested otherwise. Feyre noted how YN would glance around occasionally, her gaze lingering on the shadows, as if expecting someone or something to emerge from them.

As they trailed behind, YN paused in front of a shop that displayed more elaborate and ornate baby clothes, clearly beyond the simple, practical items she had been selecting. The baby fussed again, a soft cry escaping his tiny lips, and YN immediately lifted him out of the buggy, holding him close as she bounced him gently in her arms.

The women watched as YN whispered to her son, the love and care evident in every movement, every soft murmur. Feyre felt a pang of empathy for the young mother—she knew all too well the fears and challenges that came with raising a child, especially in a world as dangerous as theirs. But beneath that empathy was also a growing curiosity. What was YN’s connection to Azriel? And why was she so deeply enmeshed in his recent troubles?

As YN continued her slow stroll through the market, the shadows of the Hewn City seemed to close in around her, a stark contrast to the warmth she tried to create for herself and her newborn son. She adjusted the blanket around Knox, who had finally settled against her chest, his tiny breaths warm and steady against her skin. The cool air brushed against her cheeks as she looked around, scanning the shops with a mixture of exhaustion and resignation.

She pushed the buggy with one hand while holding Knox in the other, her movements careful and deliberate. The market was as lively as ever, with vendors calling out their wares and patrons haggling for better prices. The sounds echoed through the narrow streets, but YN seemed isolated in her own world, focused entirely on her son and the tasks she had to complete.

Feyre, Nesta, and Mor remained several paces behind, moving with practiced ease through the crowds, keeping YN within their line of sight. They observed her every movement—the way she delicately placed each item in the buggy’s basket, how she lingered over certain displays, and the protective way she held her son close to her heart. There was something undeniably tender about the way she interacted with Knox, a deep bond that resonated even from a distance.

“She seems so... normal,” Mor whispered, her voice barely audible above the hum of the market. “Not at all what I expected.”

“Maybe that’s why she’s so dangerous,” Nesta murmured, her eyes sharp as she watched YN pick up a small, hand-knit sweater. “If she’s involved with Azriel, she’s hiding it well.”

Feyre frowned slightly, torn between her suspicions and the simple reality of what she was witnessing—a mother, caring for her child, doing what she needed to do to survive in a place as unforgiving as the Hewn City. She couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt for spying on YN, but she reminded herself of the stakes. Azriel was one of their own, and they needed to understand what was happening to help him.

YN moved to another stall, her gaze flicking over a selection of baby blankets. She reached out to touch the fabric, her fingers lingering on a soft, blue woolen blanket that was far more luxurious than anything she had chosen so far. She held it up, considering it for a long moment before shaking her head and placing it back on the pile. It was clear that practicality outweighed indulgence in her world.

Knox stirred slightly in her arms, his tiny fist clenching around the edge of her sweater as he fussed again. YN immediately shifted him, her voice low and soothing as she murmured to him. She kissed his forehead, her expression softening as he settled back into a peaceful sleep. She glanced around the market, her gaze momentarily distant, as if lost in thought. For a moment, she seemed entirely alone, despite the crowd bustling around her.

Mor tilted her head slightly, observing the way YN seemed to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Whatever she’s involved in, it’s taking its toll.”

“Let’s not jump to conclusions,” Feyre said softly, though she couldn’t ignore the sense of unease settling in her chest. “She might not be a threat.”

Nesta’s expression remained hard, but there was a flicker of something softer in her eyes as she watched YN finally select a plain white onesie, placing it gently in the buggy. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

YN finished her shopping, her steps slow and measured as she made her way toward the edge of the market, the buggy rolling smoothly along the cobblestone streets. Knox was still cradled in her arms, his small face tucked against her shoulder. She seemed tired—more than just physically—but she moved with the determination of someone who had long grown accustomed to the weight of her burdens.

“Let’s give her space,” Feyre whispered, signaling to Nesta and Mor to hang back as they reached the outskirts of the market. “We’ll follow up with Rhys and Cassian later.”

They slowed their pace, letting YN disappear into the shadows of the narrow street ahead. As she faded from view, Feyre couldn’t shake the feeling that they were missing something crucial. There was more to YN than they had seen today, more than a young mother simply trying to care for her child in a difficult world.

-

YN stood at the base of the narrow, winding steps that led up to the small apartment she shared with Azriel, cradling Knox in her arms. The cool air of the Hewn City brushed against her skin, making her shiver slightly. The streets around her were quiet, the bustle of the market now a distant memory as she and her son returned home from their shopping trip.

Knox had fallen asleep during the short walk back, his tiny body relaxed and warm against her chest. She adjusted the blanket around him, pressing a soft kiss to his downy hair. His small, steady breaths were the only sound she focused on as she stood there, momentarily lost in her thoughts.

But the unease she’d felt earlier at the market lingered, a nagging sense of being watched that she couldn’t quite shake. She had caught glimpses of figures moving just at the edge of her vision, people who seemed to linger too long as she shopped, their attention on her more than the goods on display. YN had kept her composure, acting as though she hadn’t noticed, but her instincts told her something wasn’t right.

She took a deep breath, pushing the unsettling thoughts aside as she gazed up the stairs, preparing to climb them with Knox in her arms. Just as she was about to take her first step, the flutter of wings caught her attention, and she looked up to see Azriel descending from the sky, his shadows swirling around him as he landed silently in front of her.

His eyes, usually so composed and unreadable, softened when they met hers, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her at the sight of him. Despite everything, despite the secrecy and the hidden life they shared, Azriel was her anchor.

"Azriel," she breathed, her voice a mixture of surprise and relief. She had been expecting him to be gone for longer, given the tension of the last few days.

“YN,” he greeted, his voice low and warm, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he took in the sight of his son nestled against her. But as he stepped closer, he immediately noticed the tension in her posture, the way her eyes darted around the street as if she was still on edge. “What’s wrong?”

She hesitated for a moment, glancing around again, as if expecting someone to emerge from the shadows. Finally, she met his gaze, her voice quiet but laced with concern. “I think I was being watched today. At the market. I... I could feel eyes on me, and not just in passing. It was deliberate, like someone was studying me.”

Azriel’s expression darkened instantly, the softness in his eyes replaced by a steely resolve. His shadows seemed to react to his mood, swirling more tightly around him as if preparing for a threat. “Did you see who it was?”

YN shook her head, frustration evident in the tight lines around her mouth. “No. I tried to be discreet, but whoever it was, they were good at staying out of sight. I didn’t want to draw attention by looking too hard.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched as he processed her words, his mind already racing through the possibilities. The Hewn City was full of people who could have an interest in YN, and not all of them would be friendly. The fact that someone had been watching her—someone skilled enough to remain undetected—was deeply troubling.

He stepped closer to her, reaching out to gently brush his fingers against her arm in a comforting gesture, though he kept his touch light, aware of the public space they were in. “We’ll figure out who it was. I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

YN nodded, though her worry didn’t fully dissipate. She had known the risks of being with Azriel, but it didn’t make the reality of them any easier to face. She glanced down at Knox, who remained blissfully unaware in her arms, and her resolve hardened. She would do whatever it took to protect their son.

Azriel leaned in closer, his head dipping toward hers as if to whisper something, but she knew the movement was as much about shielding their interaction from any prying eyes as it was about speaking. His proximity was both a comfort and a reminder of the secrecy they were forced to maintain.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “For everything. For not being able to protect you both the way I should.”

YN looked up at him, her expression softening as she reached up to touch his face, her thumb brushing against his cheek. “Don’t apologize. We knew what this would be when we chose it. We’ll figure it out together, like we always do.”

He nodded, though the tension didn’t fully leave his features. He lowered his gaze to Knox, his expression softening as he reached out to gently touch his son’s tiny hand. The baby stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his small fingers curling around Azriel’s.

“I’ll be home tonight,” he said softly, his eyes lifting to meet hers again. “We’ll talk more then.”

YN nodded, understanding the unspoken promise in his words. “I’ll be waiting.”

Azriel lingered for a moment longer, his eyes searching hers as if to reassure himself that she was truly okay. Then, with one last glance around the deserted street, he stepped back, his wings flaring slightly as he prepared to take off again. YN watched him go, her heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid, of the life they were forced to hide in the shadows.

---

Azriel sat at his desk in the dim light of his office, his fingers steepled beneath his chin as he stared at the maps and reports scattered across the surface. The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint rustling of the papers as his shadows drifted over them, their movements restless and agitated. He couldn’t shake the nagging sense of unease that had settled deep in his chest since YN had told him about being watched in the market.

His thoughts were a tangle of possibilities, each more troubling than the last. The Hewn City was a treacherous place, filled with spies and informants loyal to whoever paid the highest price. If someone had been watching YN, it could mean any number of things—a rival, an enemy, or even someone trying to get to him through her. The thought sent a cold shiver down his spine, a rare surge of fear that he quickly buried beneath layers of calculated resolve.

But as he sat there, letting the silence settle around him, something didn’t quite add up. Whoever had been watching YN was skilled, yes, but the timing, the precision—it felt too familiar. His instincts, honed over centuries of espionage, were telling him that this wasn’t just a random occurrence. There was something more deliberate behind it, something closer to home.

It was then that the faint sound of voices reached his ears, muffled by the thick walls of his office but distinct enough for him to catch fragments of conversation. Azriel’s shadows swirled more tightly around him as he focused on the voices outside in the hallway, recognizing the low, familiar tones of Cassian and Mor.

“…I just wanted to be sure she wasn’t a threat,” Cassian was saying, his voice carrying a hint of defensiveness. “It’s not like we could just ask him outright.”

Mors voice responded, tinged with a mix of concern and frustration. “I get it, but what if he finds out? You know how protective he is—especially after everything that’s happened.”

“Rhys told us to keep an eye on her,” Mor continued. “We weren’t going to hurt her, just… observe. Make sure she wasn’t involved in anything that could put him or the rest of us in danger.”

Azriel’s breath caught, realization dawning like a slow, creeping shadow.

The inner circle.

It was the inner circle who had been watching YN, trailing her through the market, spying on her every move. His fists clenched beneath the desk, a mix of anger and betrayal swirling in his chest. They had been so close to finding out—so close to uncovering the one secret he had kept from them, the one part of his life he hadn’t allowed them to touch.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain calm, to not let his emotions betray him. There was no point in confronting them—not yet, at least. If they suspected YN of being a threat, it was only because they were trying to protect him, in their own misguided way. But the thought of them tailing her, of making her feel unsafe in the one place where she should feel protected… it made his blood boil.

Azriel pushed back from the desk, rising to his feet with a quiet, controlled movement. He had to get out of here before the anger bubbling beneath his calm exterior spilled over. He needed to be with YN, to ensure her safety and shield her from any further interference. He would deal with the inner circle later.

As he stepped out of his office, the voices in the hallway fell silent. Cassian and Mor looked up as he passed by, their expressions carefully neutral, though Cassian’s brow furrowed slightly as if he could sense something was off. Azriel didn’t acknowledge them, his face an unreadable mask as he walked past, but he could feel their eyes on him, could sense the questions lingering on their tongues.

Just as he reached the main hall, he was tackled by a blur of movement, the sudden impact almost knocking him off balance. He looked down to see Nyx, Rhys’s son, grinning up at him, his small arms wrapped tightly around Azriel’s leg. A second later, Agnar, Cassian’s son, joined in, his laughter ringing through the air as he attempted to climb up Azriel’s other leg.

“Uncle Azriel!” Nyx shouted, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “We got you!”

Azriel couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his lips as he ruffled Nyx’s dark hair. “It seems you did,” he replied, his voice softer than it had been all day. Despite the turmoil in his mind, he could never resist the infectious energy of his nephews.

He lifted Agnar into his arms, the boy’s wings fluttering excitedly as he settled against Azriel’s shoulder. Nyx clung to his other side, laughing as Azriel hoisted him up as well, balancing both boys with ease.

As he carried them down the hallway, he passed Rhys, who was leaning casually against the doorway of his office, arms crossed over his chest. Rhys raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on Azriel’s unusual demeanor.

“Azriel,” Rhys called out, his tone light but laced with curiosity. “Heading somewhere?”

Azriel met his gaze, his expression carefully guarded. “I’m taking a week off,” he said simply, his voice brokering no argument.

Rhys blinked, clearly taken aback. “A week off? Are you—”

“Don’t worry,” Azriel cut him off, shifting Nyx and Agnar slightly in his arms. “Everything will be handled.” He didn’t wait for Rhys to respond before he turned and continued down the hall, his steps purposeful as he made his way out of the house.

Once outside, Azriel set the boys down, giving each of them a quick hug before sending them back to the house. He watched them run off, their laughter echoing in the air, before he spread his wings and took off into the sky.

The wind whipped through his hair as he soared above Velaris, his mind already focused on the apartment where YN and Knox were waiting. Whatever plans the inner circle had, whatever suspicions they harbored, he would not allow them to come between him and his family.

Azriel landed silently on the balcony of their apartment, the cool night air whispering through his wings as he folded them behind him. The familiar creak of the floorboards under his boots as he stepped inside was a comforting sound, grounding him in the reality he had chosen—a reality where YN and Knox were his world, even if it had to remain hidden from everyone else.

Let me know if you'd wish to be tagged! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated!

[mipwrites]

current biggest problem with writing from Azriel's POV:

when you're the strong, silent type, who literally keeps to the shadows and observes as his job description - you don't have a lot of dialogue. Or action.

My man is just standing in the background watching everything go down like a damn tennis match why did I do this to myself

[crumbledcastle28]

Azriel Shadowsinger: Not Tonight

Pairing: Azriel x fem!reader (she/her)

Excerpt: “‘I don’t want you in control. Not tonight. Tonight…’

Your eyes remained locked on his as you sank to your knees. Your dress pooling around your legs.

‘…I want to be.’”

Warnings: MAJOR sub!azriel, I mean major major sub!azriel, smut, sucking dick, face riding, the girl is wearing a corset top, an almost panic attack, the inner circle is here for like two seconds, Feyre says fancy mythology things (probably incorrect), I think that’s it.

A/N: Thank you @cityofidek for requesting my favorite thing to write in the entire fucking world. This is pretty dirty, so I apologize if that wasn’t the intention haha. @leahkenobi just pretend you don’t know me. Thank you to anyone who reads my work. You guys mean the world :)

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

Azriel Masterlist

(pic from Pinterest)

You followed him into the House of Wind, watching the muscles underneath the cloth of his shirt flex from the strain of his wings. He had a way of walking that was not cocky, but not modest either. You grinned, hearing Emerie’s voice in your head, and feeling the ache already pulsing in your core.

It only got worse when dinner began.

You sat across from him—close enough to touch the tips of his kneecaps with your own—giving you the view you had been waiting for since the day he left.

Broad shoulders, messy hair, tan skin, perfect teeth, hazel eyes, a dusting of freckles, and wings over half the length of Rhysand’s dining table.

You hadn’t seen him for weeks—weeks—and the first night he comes back is the monthly court dinner.

Of course.

You could have sworn the violet in Rhysand’s eyes twinkled with knowing when he reminded you of this, and your nails dug into your palms in hope that you wouldn’t show the weakness he was looking for.

“What?” you asked him, folding your arms defensively. “Is there a problem with that?”

“Not with me,” he replied, grinning like a cheshire. “I can guarantee it is for some else though.”

Rhysand was right. The normally-masked heat of arousal and frustration radiating off of Azriel was apparent to everyone in the room, and the mix of the view of his chest and the feeling of his leg had your own scent nearly overwhelming his.

You locked eyes with him, and visions of what he imagined doing to you coated their burned-hazel tone as bolts of arousal were sent through your bond

The table flipped, your dress ripped to shreds, your back turned to him, and his pace so deliciously slow inside of you that your whines coated the screams in his head. His hands clutched around your breasts, fitting every inch in his palms easily, and his hot breath against your ear, whispering how much he fucking missed you and needed you—

“Let’s eat,” Rhysand said, clearing his throat awkwardly. You jolted in your seat, blinking rapidly.

Azriel’s gaze never left yours. All he did was smirk.

~*~

You would thank the gods every day for Cassian, because if he hadn’t been distracting Azriel every two seconds with a question about Briallyn’s whereabouts, your self-control would have shattered.

His glances. His presence. His cologne. His mouth. His tongue. His throat. His hands as he sipped his wine.

All of them affected you. All of them.

And you knew, from both the look in his eye and the weeks of being apart, that he expected nothing less.

And he was so fucking smug about it.

You ground your teeth, breathing heavily, practically fuming, as conversations continued on around you. Cursing yourself for the way he was playing you, and winning.

Your dress was too tight, his gaze was too hot, and the voices around you were beginning to choke you from the inside out. So much so that Feyre’s call of your name completely passed over you.

“Y/N,” she called again, stern enough to make you jump. Your fork dropped from your hand, clattering against your golden plate. You faced her quickly and placed your hands in your lap.

She could sound like a High Lady when she wanted to. You tended to forget that.

“I am sorry Feyre,” you said, shaking your head. You tried to swallow down your daze. “Do you need something?”

She smiled, sweetly, but there was something beneath her gaze. Your heart pounded that much quicker.

“Yes,” she said, still sustaining her grin. “I was wondering if you knew of the goddess Nemesis?”

The sounds of eating, chewing, and talking, went suddenly silent.

This proved to you that her question had nothing to do with what she was previously talking about. Luckily, it seemed that Rhysand was just as confused as you were. Your throat tightened, so much so it became hard to swallow.

Feyre was your friend, and you could see in her eye that she had some sort of agenda behind the question, so you tried your best to play along with whatever she was getting at.

“Ye-yes, yes I know of her,” you said, finding your voice. “The goddess of retribution.”

“Yes,” Feyre replied. “And the daughter of Nyx.”

You nodded. She smiled wider, and the reflection of the setting sun in her pale-blue eyes reminded you how much of a goddess she was herself.

“Are you familiar with her involvement with the hunter Narcissus?” she asked, and sipped her wine. You didn’t know how it was possible for someone to drink and grin at the same time.

“Yes, I am,” you began. “Narcissus was an extremely young man whose beauty attracted the interest of a nymph called Echo. When she revealed her love, Narcissus rejected her and asked her to leave him alone. Heartbroken, Echo left and began roaming alone.”

Feyre nodded, urging you to go on, at the same time that Az pressed his leg against the softness of your own. Your eyes glanced towards his, and his dark eyes were illuminated by an afterglow of interest.

So, you continued.

“The sad ending of Echo enraged the goddess of revenge, Nemesis, who decided to punish Narcissus. One day, Nemesis lured the young man to drink water from a pool with calm mirror-like water. Narcissus saw his reflection on the water and fell in love with it.”

Feyre hummed, satisfied.

“And Narcissus died shortly after,” she said. “I have always loved that story.”

“Loved?” Cassian questioned, raising his eyebrows. “What part of a story of vengeance is to be loved?”

“It is not just a story of vengeance,” Feyre countered. “Narcissius rejected all romantic advances and was only able to fall in love with his reflection, making him exactly what his name describes: a narcissist.”

You brought your eyebrows together in thought.

Your mind was close to her own. You could feel it.

“He would only ever be satisfied with himself, and the women attracted to him were nothing to him,” she said, huffing a laugh.

Her eyes locked with yours.

“In my opinion,” she said, picking up her wine once more, “Nemesis merely put him in his place.”

It was then that the shades of blue in her eyes, her feline smile, and the point of her story sprinkled over you like a cold rain.

Put him in his place. Don’t let him win.

As the realization rose, your confidence rose with it. Your back straightened, your body loosened, and your lungs filled with much needed breath.

“Agreed,” you said, and your smile matched her own.

She nodded, winking at you, and went back to her previous conversation.

You took your cold glass of water and brought it to your lips, enjoying how its frigidness coated your throat. It cooled from the inside out—centering you. Your hands had stopped their shaking.

As you sipped you looked up at Azriel, whose face was still painted with arrogance and cocksure.

This time, however, you met it with your own, and you could have sworn Azriel sank lower in his seat.

~*~

Azriel had no idea what the Hel Feyre had just said, but whatever it was clearly affected you. It was like you had shed a skin, awakening a part of yourself that was growing larger and larger by the second.

He didn’t know if he had ever been so desperate for you in his life, and he didn’t care that his entire family knew it.

He wanted you under him—begging, pleading, crying for more—but something about the way you were looking at him made him think you didn’t want that. You wanted something else—something that you would be willing to take.

It was his turn for sweaty hands and a rabid heart.

The two of you managed to keep normal conversations going throughout the dinner, keeping your looks to primarily glances and bumping into each other’s legs, but your scent continued to fill him up. As soon as he’d get caught up in a conversation, his mind on the cusp of forgetting your shared state, you’d fill him up again, and his blood would boil under his skin.

He didn’t know if The Town House would still be standing after the two of you were done.

A small grin etched along your perfect face when he sent the image down the bond.

“Dessert?” Rhysand offered, with a tone suggesting he already knew Azriel’s answer.

Az took in a breath, ready to respond for the both of you, but you beat him to it.

“No thank you,” you said, and stood. Your wooden chair screeched against the hard flood. “We’ll be leaving now. Thank you for everything. Both of you.”

You thanked both Rhys and Feyre with your eyes, but Az noticed you looking at Feyre for a few seconds longer, and he had never wished for the gift of a daemati more than then.

You said your goodbyes to everyone as Azriel stood from the table, and without even a glance his way, you departed from the dining room into the brisk air of the night. Obviously expecting him to follow.

He huffed a laugh before saying, “it was nice to see you all.”

“It was nice to see you too, brother,” Cassian said.

If there was one thing Cassian was bad at, it was hiding his emotions. The broad smile plastered across his face proved that enough.

“I have a feeling we won’t be seeing you for some time?”

His mate next to him let out a rare chuckle, as did the rest of the table.

Azriel just breathed. Taking all of it. “Enjoy your dessert.”

He then walked from the table, buttoning up his coat as he walked. His speed increased after each step, and he pulled open the hazelnut-stained door without hesitation.

Without a question, he enveloped you in his darkness, gripping your sides and holding you close.

“You too!” he heard Amren exclaim as you were both lifted from the grass.

~*~

His mouth met your own before his feet touched the floor.

He tasted of fresh tomatoes and burnt bread, as well as savory wine. His tongue wasted no time in dominating your own as he pushed you back towards the wall.

“Azriel,” you whispered, managing to pull him away from you, and he brought his teeth to your neck.

“Y/N,” he replied, still nipping. His hot breaths shot chills down your body like lightning, and his hands began to drift from your sides to the center of your skirt. Your back was inches from the wall, and every bone in your body was aching to just let him do it. Let him have you. Let him take you.

Not tonight.

Your mind desired otherwise.

You planted your feet, digging your heels into the carpeting of his bedroom floor, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

His body froze, and he pulled away. Completely taking his hands off you. The look on his face was priceless.

“Did I…” he said. Backing away. His swollen lips and flaring wings threatened to undo you. “Did I do too much? I am sorry—

You smiled. “Azriel.”

Your breathless tone sent the tent in his pants higher.

“I want you,” you whispered, and brought your hands to his chest. “I want you right here…”

You pushed him forward. Slowly. His eyes widened in realization as you walked.

“…right now” you finished, and his back hit the closed door with a thud. “I don’t want you in control. Not tonight. Tonight…”

Your eyes remained locked on his as you sank to your knees. Your dress pooling around your legs.

“…I want to be.”

And in that moment, Azriel’s typically dark, dominating eyes—forced to make tough calls, inflict pain, and risk his life for the ones he loves—submitted to the gold of their hazel coloring. They were lighter than you had ever seen them before, and his jaw went slack at the sight of you beneath him.

“Is that okay?” you asked huskily, tilting your head to the side with a smirk.

Azriel blinked. Then blinked again. He swallowed roughly, loud enough for you to hear, before sending down the largest wave of arousal down the bond that you had ever felt.

You whined at the feeling—arching against the floor for any sort of relief—before he nodded.

“Yes,” he said, and you smiled. Sweat was already beginning to culminate on his forehead.

“Good,” you said, looking up at him with darkened eyes. “Now take your clothes off.”

~*~

Azriel did not need to be told twice. He had his upper-half stripped before you could even blink, throwing the pieces somewhere behind you, before reaching for his belt.

His hands were shaking so harshly he could not grasp the buckle, and you chuckled beneath him.

“I’ve got you,” you whispered, and any thoughts in his brain besides how you looked and sounded evaporated from his brain.

You brought your steady hands to his buckle and slipped it through the leather, letting his pants fall to the floor. His hands fell to his side—unsure of what to do. Unsure if he would last longer than a few seconds with you. Not like this.

“Can I take these off?” you asked, reaching your nail under his waistband.

“Please,” he heard himself say.

You smiled. “Good.”

You dragged down his underwear to his ankles, springing his dick to his stomach. His face flushed.

You dragged a finger down his shaft, so slowly it almost pained him, and he whined.

“May I?” you asked, still tracing him with the pad of your pointer finger.

He nodded, face contorting in desperation. Beads of sweat were culminating down his hairline and beginning to drip down his face.

“Say it.”

“Yes Y/N. Please.”

And then you took the entirety of him in your mouth, and the last shards of Azriel’s self-restraint imploded.

His eyesight was plastered with stars and his knees weakened against your heat. His eyes fluttered shut in bliss, and the noise he let out—

He felt you smile against him and take him deeper, deeper, deeper.

Azriel’s hands remained firmly at his sides until you brought them to your hair, and he brushed his nails against your scalp.

“Feels—so good,” he managed to get out. He had never sounded less like the Spymaster of the Night Court, but he had never cared less. “You’re—you’re perfect.”

You laughed around his length, licking a strip up to his lower stomach.

“Keep talking.”

And he did.

Through pants and groans and whines, Azriel’s tongue became his paint brush, drawing and sketching you into time with his words.

Perfection.

Mate.

Beautiful.

Endless.

Heaven.

Yours. I’m yours.

By the time he was beginning to fuck into your mouth, he was practically sputtering psalms.

“Gods,” he groaned, holding your head gently as he thrusted into you. “Gods Y/N I can’t—I’ve gotta come. Please.”

You looked up at him, tears in your eyes, and swirled your tongue around him. You cupped his balls, and with one final thrust, he released into you.

In his bliss, he could only think of how lucky he was.

Salt coated his lips when he finally regained consciousness, just as you finished kitten-licking the tiny beads of release that had coated his thighs.

“Did you—swallow? All of it?”

You hummed. “All of it.”

~*~

You saw the shock in his eyes. As well as his need to climax you enough times for you to forget your name.

But you were not done yet.

“Easy handsome,” you said, licking your lips and tracing his clenched thighs with your nails. “I know what I want from you.”

His steadied breathing became faster and faster as you spoke, and the look of him; tattoos covered in sweat, wings flared and twitching, throat bobbing, chest heaving.

You couldn’t have gotten luckier. You really couldn’t have.

And you would continue to prove that to him.

You pressed kisses to his still twitching cock as you stood on shaky legs, feeling how utterly drenched you were in your underwear, and Az whined with each peck.

He moved his hands down to your waist, steadying you against him, and you smiled up at him. Pure love in both of your eyes, with Azriel’s gold completely covering his darkness.

You loved him like this the most—blissed out, and happy. Grateful.

“I’m gonna turn you around, okay?”

He nodded. Repeatedly. His eagerness was beginning to poke through.

You laughed. “Okay.”

And you positioned yourself against the door, spinning him to face you.

He immediately reached for the strings of your corset top, still shaking, but you stopped him.

“No,” you said, and brought your hands up his naked arms, tracing every muscle and tattoo as you did.

A flush came to his cheeks again, and his muscles flexed as you glided over them. If you didn’t know him better, you would think it was coincidental.

You reached his shoulders and brushed his curls from his face, before pushing him down.

And down.

And down.

Until one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors to ever exist was on his knees before you, lifting up the skirt of your dress, and kissing up your leg.

“Good,” you whispered. “That’s good. Just like that.”

He exhaled a hot breath against you, sending chills up into your skull, and he rose and rose up to your underwear until his entire head was hidden underneath your skirt.

You arched against him as he pulled your underwear down with his teeth, and you continued your praises.

“Fuck Azriel,” you said. “I can only imagine how pretty you look right now.”

A groan came from under the fabric.

You wished everyone in the Night Court knew how badly the deadly Spymaster enjoyed being called pretty.

“Eat me out now,” you whispered.

And he did.

Fuck did he ever.

He started with strips, teasing you, just as you asked, before delving in completely, so harshly that he began raising you off the floor.

The room was soon filled with your pants and whines, as well as your constant praise and instruction.

Higher baby.

Gods you sound so good.

I missed you so fucking much.

You’re perfect at this. Like you’re made for me.

There—right there.

My perfect mate.

It was when he began torturing you with his mouth and coaxing your clit with his fingers that your climax was on the brink of explosion.

“Almost there—almost there Azriel you’re doing perfectly.”

He groaned in response, and you noticed his empty hand beginning to drift down to his pants. But he hesitated.

“Touch yourself Azriel,” you said huskily, panting. He didn’t hesitate.

With the band in your belly becoming closer and closer to snapping, Azriel between your legs attending to your every beck and call, and the dizzying feeling that was sex with your mate, your mind was drenched in a haze of ecstasy.

“So…so close,” you whispered, continued to arch and lurch and ride into his mouth. “Are you?”

He nodded. Good.

With one last kiss to your clit, your body went under the too-familiar wave. With one last second of consciousness, however, you reached your hand forward and stroked down Azriel’s wing just so.

The both of you erupted together—Azriel’s siphons filled the room with their dark blue, and your soul warmed with it. No other shade of blue would ever be enough for you.

You blinked, finally seeing color instead of a blur of stars, and tears of pleasure were dribbling down your cheeks. The feeling in your legs returned slowly, and you were met with Azriel kissing down them before coming out from beneath the satin fabric.

He remained on his knees, but his face was coated with your pleasure, as well as a smile with enough power to bring you down to your own.

“How’d I do?” he asked. Genuinely.

You ran your hair through his thick, curling hair, and said, “Perfectly.”

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[the-shadowsingers-whore]

a court of wards and shadow

chapter ten

series overview

summary: aelis and azriel continue their mission to retrieve the book of wards from helion's private office but run into some unexpected obstacles

length: 3.5k

warnings: (18+ mdni) angst, violence, attempted assault, mentions of trauma, once again no actual smut but they continue to be low key horny for each other

disclaimer: this fic in no way represents any of sarah j. maas' work or ideas, it is for purely fictional/personal entertainment purposes

masterlist /// next chapter >>

author's note: omfg i'm so sorry it took me literally 6 months to post another part of this. i promise i haven't forgotten about it, i've just been really struggling with motivation (plus i know that i'm the only one who cares about this fic so i keep procrastinating). anywho, i hope you like this chapter!

the day begins much like the one prior, with only a grunt or short sentence every now and again the only proof that azriel knows i’m here. it feels like deja vu and after only an hour, i’m already too frustrated to stay quiet.

“really? this again? how many times are we going to do this?”

i watch as azriel stops, his shoulders tensing before he turns to address me. “what do you mean?”

“this. you being upset or moody about something but refusing to say anything about it so you just stay silent and keep to yourself until i call you out and we inevitably have some big, deep conversation about it.”

“i have no idea what you are talking about.” he responds dryly, his face one of practiced neutrality. 

“oh? really? well you did it before we left and then again after we left and i thought we had sorted everything out yesterday afternoon when we talked and then we……but then you did it again last night. everything was fine but then you got weird all of a sudden! you refused to look at me and then you barely spoke for the rest of the evening! i brushed it off after the long day we had but you are doing the same gods damned thing again today. so just tell me already before i lose my mind imagining things all day!”

“those stupid fucking thugs.” azriel grumbles, before turning back to continue down the path.

“what?” i say in confusion as i follow him.

“i said, those stupid fucking thugs,” he replies, raising his voice while picking up the pace.

“no, i heard you, but i’m confused as to how they are even remotely relevant to anything i just said.” i’m almost jogging to keep up with him at this point and he doesn’t show any signs of slowing down or giving me a straight answer for his behavior.

“it’s their fault.”

“you can’t honestly expect me to believe that. what they did has absolutely nothing to do with you ignoring me for hours for no reason!” my frustration is growing and i’m starting to run out of breath as i try and keep up with him.

“it has everything to do with it!” his voice booms through the forest when he stops abruptly and whirls around to face me. he moves so quickly i have to catch myself from slamming into his chest.

“they are the ones who dumped your bag out, soaking all of your things.” his voice is back to its regular volume, but i can still sense the anger simmering underneath the surface. i can practically see the frustration pouring off of him.

“if your clothing wasn’t ruined, you wouldn’t have had to borrow my shirt.” he’s upset i wore his shirt?! he’s the one who suggested it in the first place. and, i can imagine, was not going to let me refuse. 

“i’m sor--”

“i thought it would have been fine,” he cuts me off before i can get more than a single word out. “but then i saw you in that shirt. my fucking shirt…..” he trails off for a second, shaking his head. “it took me a moment, yes, but i was able to reign myself back in. i’m not a total animal.” 

oh. oh. 

warmth builds in my stomach as i realize what he’s saying. he liked what i looked like in his shirt. azriel, spymaster of the night court, one of the most powerful people i have ever met, liked what i, a little nobody faerie looked like while wearing his shirt. i fight the urge to smile at the thought.             

“i figured if i just made sure i only looked at your face, if i never looked at those damnable legs of yours, i would be fine. but, then you had to hang your clothes up to dry. all your clothes.” my eyebrows scrunch in confusion for a moment at the emphasis he placed, but when it hits me my eyes widen and my cheeks flush with embarrassment. “the thoughts that crossed my mind when i realized that you were wearing my shirt, and only my shirt….the mother damn me. 

“and so i tried to ignore you as best as i could. if i didn’t look at you, then i wouldn’t think about what you were, or were not wearing and i wouldn’t think of all the terrible, filthy things i wanted to do to you.” the warmth in my belly grows as i realize how desperately i want to know what those things were.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                        

“but then we had to sleep in the same bed. i barely slept, knowing you were right there all night, wearing only that shirt. cauldron, i was no better than those men who attacked you in the forest. no, i was worse. i know what you’ve been through, i know how much, you have endured. yet, here i was, mind spinning endlessly with vile thoughts. if you only knew what was going through my head when i woke up next to you this morning and was ---” he pauses, scoffing at himself.                                                                                                                                                                                    

“so that’s why i’ve been quiet all morning. and i’m sorry for ignoring you, but i will not apologize for trying to be decent to you after everything you have been through.” the firmness in his voice shows me how terribly he feels about his thoughts. 

i am secretly pleased that someone like me could have such an effect on someone like him. however, i simply nod slightly in response, understanding his desire to be honorable.

i want to say so many things, ask him so many questions, but one look at his face tells me he is drowning in guilt and shame. so instead i simply say, “well regardless of whether or not you will believe me, i forgive you even though there is nothing that needs to be forgiven. so from now on you should at least speak to me every once in a while. walking for hours in absolute silence is so painfully boring.” 

and mother curse me, i can’t help myself as i step closer and place a hand against his chest as i add, 

“and there’s a big difference between those bastards from yesterday and you. i never wanted to know any of the wicked thoughts running through their heads.” with that i throw him a wry smirk before stepping around his body to continue down the path, in shock at my own actions and words.

* * *

the rest of our journey passed quickly in a comfortable silence. there was still so much i wanted to say to azriel, so many things to confess, but now was certainly not the time.

as we drew closer to the day court a knot of nerves started to build in my stomach. and not just due to the impending task ahead we are about to face.

“are you okay?” azriel asks, somehow picking up on the anxiety i have tried so hard to hide over the last few miles.

“mmmhmmm,” i hum, trying my best to imbue confidence in the sound.

i can tell by the look on az’s face that he’s not convinced, but he continues on, somehow knowing i won’t reveal anything else even if he pushes further.

when we reach the base of the palace itself, everything passes in a blur: me leading azriel through a hidden servants entrance, him letting his shadows snake up and down the hallways to check for fae, us winding our way through the labyrinth of halls i know like the back of my hand. eventually we reach the servants’ door right outside helion’s private office.

“i guess this is where i head off alone,” i say, trying to keep my tone light and playful even though anxiety is wracking my every nerve.

“i guess so,” azriel responds, his face a picture of statute resolve. “i wish it was me rather than you who had to go in there,” he murmurs, his mask of indifference slipping for a moment to show a hint of fear and concern.

“it’s okay. i’ll be okay.” i push as much confidence in my voice as i can muster, offering him a half smile before slipping out the servants’ door and through the one into helion’s office, a wisp of a shadow trailing me.

the moment i enter the room i start scanning the bookshelves for the book that amren described to us before we left. my nerves grow as i pass shelf after shelf without finding the book we need, my fear of being caught growing with every second i spend here.

when i reach the last shelf in the library, i move to helion’s desk, rifling through the drawers as fast as i can. the third drawer catches as i try to slam it shut in my haste and i stop to study it for a moment, noticing that a section of the woodwork seems to gleam slightly. i lean closer and notice that the glowing scrollwork seems to be just slightly out of place from the ones around it. i reach forward and grasp it gently, twisting it ever so slightly. much to my surprise the carving slips then clicks into place and a fourth drawer not previously there pops out beneath the one i was investigating.

i quickly pull out the drawer and find a book that matches amren’s description perfectly. this has to be it. i gently remove the tome before sliding the drawer back in.

carefully tucking the book into my bag, i quickly scan the room to ensure i left no trace before slipping back out of the room and down the hall. i breathe a sigh of relief when i make it through the entrance to the servants' halls, but it gets stuck in my throat when i round the first corner and immediately slam into someone. 

the fae shoves me back, cursing under their breath. "watch where you’re going you little...... wait….. aelis?" my heart stops, ice shooting through my veins at the familiar voice. i try and duck my head, but i know it's too late. 

"it is you." camden chuckles darkly. he steps closer and i try to retreat, but my feet are frozen in place. fear begins to pound in my head like a drum, drowning out all rational thoughts as he closes the remaining distance between us. 

"now this is quite the surprise, i thought you were gone for good." he starts to slowly circle, taunting me with every step. "i must say, i was very disappointed to learn you had left. and without so much as a goodbye." he drags a finger along the side of my neck and i shudder at the contact, my skin crawling beneath his touch.

"and yet here you are. back for more." his finger slides down my shoulder, hooking into the collar of my tunic and dragging it down to expose more of my skin. “and looking better than ever. you just couldn't stay away, could you?" he mouth just barely brushes my flesh before my instincts finally catch up and i drive my elbow back into his gut. 

i stumble forward as he releases me, cursing loudly through gritted teeth. "now that's not a very nice way to greet me," he spits before lunging forward to grab my arm again. i try to remember my training, but panic overrides all rational thought. before i can counter he swings my body around and i stifle a cry as my shoulder slams into the wall with a sickening thud. 

"i was going to be nice and show you just how much i missed you, but it seems that i may have to teach you a lesson instead." 

he pins me against the wall, my newly injured shoulder screaming from the pressure. despite the pain,  i try to struggle against his hold, but he slaps me across the face so hard my head whips to the side and smacks into the wall.

the pain from the strike is hot and blinding and all consuming. i stop fighting, my body shutting down on instinct, knowing any fight will only bring more pain. one of his hands starts tugging at my belt and i screw my eyes shut, trying to numb all my senses, to put myself as far away mentally as i can. i feel the buckle come loose and the belt slides free of my pants.

and then all of a sudden his weight is no longer pressed against me. 

my eyes fly open to find azriel suddenly standing next to me, his fiery glare focused on camden who is now on the floor down the hall. 

camden pushes himself to standing, slowly brushing off his clothing. his gaze darts from azriel to me and then back to azriel as his mouth starts to draw up in a taunting smirk. 

"well now isn't this an interesting development? you ran away and found yourself some night court scum to play with. i guess it's lucky for you those brutes don’t mind damaged goods."

i look at the floor and shrink further into myself, shame flushing my cheeks at his words. 

"i suggest you don’t say another word." azriel’s low voice comes out calm and even, but even a fool would hear the warning lacing his tone. 

but camden doesn’t seem to care. he just continues on with that stupid, cocky grin pasted on his face. "i suppose i can't blame you for keeping her around though, you are a bastard after all. and she does have one of the best cunts i've ever been in."

before i can even blink camden is against the wall, azriels forearm pressing into his upper chest and his dagger poised an inch away from his throat. 

"since you can't seem to take a suggestion, let me make something very clear. you will not speak about aelis that way. in fact, you will not speak about her in any way." azriel’s voice is that of death itself and goosebumps break out along my skin as he speaks. "the only reason you will be leaving here alive is because i don’t have the time to scrub your blood from the walls.

“so instead, i want you to listen very closely. if you ever touch her, or tell anyone you saw either of us here, or so much as think about her existence ever again, i will personally hunt you down and separate you from your favorite plaything. permanently." he leans in closer, sliding his dagger down from camden’s neck to between his legs, digging his blade in ever so slightly. i remain frozen, staring at the stark fear that washes over camden’s face.

"and i will make sure to take my time." the last words come out in a threatening whisper and i watch as camden’s body shudders when the dagger presses further into his sensitive flesh. 

"understood?" camden nods quickly in response, eyes wide with terror. 

azriel releases him, taking a step back and allowing camden to take a breath before using the hilt of his dagger to smack him in the temple, knocking him unconscious. his body has barely crumpled to the floor before azriel is spinning around towards me, eyes flooded with worry as he quickly assesses me. 

"are you alright, did he hurt you?"

my hand instinctively moves to the scar on my abdomen and i shake my head lightly, my breath coming out ragged and my body starting to tremble as the adrenaline works its way through my system. 

azriel steps closer and reaches towards me, stopping himself just before he touches me when he notices me flinch slightly. i know he would never do me harm, but my body betrays me, shrinking into itself in the wake of what just happened. 

"aelis," he murmurs softly. "everything's okay. you're safe now. i would never let him hurt you. i--" his back straightens, head whipping towards the entrance to the servants' halls as the shadows around him start to flit about more frantically. 

he turns back to me, his expression revealing nothing. "aelis, i know you're probably still scared. and overwhelmed. but we need to go now. okay?" his voice is calm and reassuring, not holding an ounce of panic or urgency even though i know that whatever he just heard can't be good. 

i force myself to nod, pushing all thoughts and emotions deep down and focusing only on getting out of here. i extend my hand to him and he grasps it gently, the warmth of his palm steadying me. he starts leading me quickly through the winding halls, his shadows wrapping thickly around us, shielding us slightly from view. 

i follow azriel like a child, thinking of nothing but putting one foot in front of the other. before i know it we are slipping through a hidden side door and azriel is winnowing us away, his shadows squeezing me tightly. 

after a moment, they clear and i find us standing in the woods just outside of what looks like a small village. 

i immediately whip around to face him, fear racing through me for an entirely new reason. “you winnowed!” 

“we needed to get out of there quickly and you looked in no shape to do that. i didn’t want to risk you getting hurt further.” i nod tightly in response, embarrassed and angry at myself for jeopardizing our entire mission because i couldn’t get my panic under control.

“hey, it’s okay,” he says gently, reading my expression. “it’s not your fault. i should have known better than to bring you back there, i should have found another way to--”

“no, it’s my fault. i said i was ready, that i could do this. i thought i was ready…..” i murmur, my eyes trained on the floor as shame threatens to consume me. 

“aelis-” 

“all that training.” i cut him off before he can offer up whatever weak excuse he crafted to make me feel better. “all that training for months and months and for what? for me to immediately panic and shut down instead of using it to fight back? i’m sorry you all have been wasting your time on me, i should have known better than to think i could be like any of you.” i laugh bitterly.

“aelis, stop.” his words are soft, but commanding and when i chance a look up at him i find nothing but compassion written across his face. no disappointment. no pity. just a gentleness that makes my heart ache in a way i didn’t know it could.

“stop apologizing, stop blaming yourself, stop saying you aren’t good enough. just stop.” he reaches forward and gently grasps my hands with his. “the only reason we are here and have the one thing that might help us protect our court is because of you. so quit worrying about what happened back there and just think about that.” 

“but--”

“but nothing. it’s okay. it’s more than okay actually, it’s normal. you just have to keep training. and training. and training. and then one day if you happen to find yourself in a situation like that again and your brain shuts down--which it probably will because no amount of practice can make your mind unlearn years of abuse--then your body will take over. it will just be muscle memory. and you will be fighting back without even realizing. it just takes time.” 

“i just feel bad that you’re constantly having to rescue me,” i chide, trying to lighten the tone after taking a moment to absorb his words, knowing he’s right. 

“oh, don’t feel bad, you make such a dashing damsel in distress.” he gives me a shy smile and a wink. i feel heat rise to my cheeks at the compliment and my mind scrambles to form a response, but he quickly changes the subject, saving me from myself. “now how about a warm meal and a night’s rest in a bed of your own before we start the trek back tomorrow? i didn’t winnow us very far from the palace, hoping that such a small use of power wouldn’t alert helion to anything he needed to investigate. which means we have quite the ways to go before we get beyond the extent of his wards.”

i smile softly in response and he leads me through the small village to a cozy inn where we wash off the dirt from the last few days and enjoy a hot meal before parting ways to rest in our own private rooms.

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