#trust in the command of the Lord

[an-unanonymous-messenger]

I had to make another video about this, because not enough was said in the last one. I wanted to add that we (even though we of course should not only revolve around evangelism, but also on making disciples) should not exclude one for the other. It would be like neglecting the commandment of not killing to support the commandment of not stealing. It makes no sense. Each of us has his own role to play in the Kingdom of God, and it should not be neglected. So let us not sabotage one commandment for the other, but keep pushing with both in order to fulfil God's will for us.

[feintenstein]

More notes & closeups of this au/story in my head 👍

[icewitcher]

Do you think after embeding the heteromer-shard in him to get Asimov's password and activate Hyperreal, Lee's Entropy frame got a scar that can't be repaired no matter what the Science Council tries to do ? Because this is the heteromer-shard we are talking about and nothing is simple when it comes to something linked to the Punishing Virus.

Do you think when Lee reverts back to Entropy for a reason or another, the scar is throbbing, it hurts him, horribly and sends him back to those few seconds/minutes when he was searching for the code as he fought the data that wanted to overflood him but he doesn't hide it because his words after getting out of the Tower were true, that he won't hide anything anymore from Gray Raven ?

Do you think Liv, with her medic training and even if it's useless because they are not humans anymore but Constructs and its a scar indirectly coming from the PV, takes care of the scar like she has been taught to ? And tells Lee what to do to treat and it helps him deal with the difference between how, as a Construct, he has been treated and has to behave under Kurono VS how he can act as Lee of Gray Raven and in front of his superior in Babylonia ?

Do you think Lucia is helping Lee to move whenever the pain is atraciously unbearable and he lets her do it because he knows he can rely on her but also Lucia was also very silent and awkward with her feeling before transferring her M.I.N.D. in Plume's frame so they understood each other well ?

Do you think if vital fluid would start flowing again from it and Lee has to bandage it and Murray happens to see his older brother bleeding again, he actually comes to help him instead of silently retreating like he did when he was younger, applying whatever (good) advice Vera told him and Lee says nothing because no more white lies between them and it actually helps them to reconnect, to be open with each other ?

Do you think the Commandant would say something along the lines "Hey we match !!", referring to the scars they accumulated over the battles they fought in and for a flicker of second, Lee "lives" again all those horrible futures where he lost everthing but he quickly dismiss it because it's not going to happen ?

Because after all of that, all of their gest, words that are not false promises/lies and sincere care, he believes them and in them, for he is not alone anymore, he doesn't have to carry burdens he believed that were only his anymore alone. He has companions, a family, loved ones that will help him find that bright future and make sure the dim light of hope he has given them in the form of the Clean Zone and the Inverse-Tower becomes larger and bigger and brighter until it embraces the whole world and they can get their happy ending.

[rangers-are-cool-moved]

For: Arwen :: @amarthfaeg Muse: Hal Prompt: Summer, fun & friendship Liked for a Starter call | Rangers

"Ye-no. I don't do parties, you should know that by now, Elrohir."

"I haven't said anything yet!"

"Keyword there: Yet. That means you were going to ask and my answer remains the same. No thank-you." Hal didn't even bother to look up, much to the amusement of the other visiting Rangers. It didn't matter who or what the party was for; she had zero interest in taking part.

The youngest of Lord Elrond’s twins narrowed silver eyes and muttered something in Sindarin about stubborn assed rangers. But he didn't try arguing and left quietly. Too quietly for him.

"He's planning something. Normally he tries to change your mind."

The gender-fluid Ranger pulled her attention away from the paperwork she was doing, only to give Prestadir a smirk. "I'm aware and it won't work either way." That gained snorts and chuckles from the other Dúnedain, before they disappeared to change.

Hal returned her focus to the work she was finishing, ignoring anyone who came to the door of the guest room she was staying in. Although her instincts were on alert mode, in case Elrohir had gone to find someone who could persuade her to attend the party. To which, they would get the same response. No matter who it was. At least, that was her intention.

[a-god-in-ruins-rises]

You're against shoplifting?

yes. lmao.

if someone is literally stealing food because they are starving or something then i would look the other way or even offer to buy it for them so they can avoid any trouble.

but that's not what 99% of shoplifting is. most shoplifters are degenerate, antisocial parasites.

[yeslordmyking]

Philippians 1:21 — Today's Verse for Tuesday, May 20, 2025

[jclovely]

LOVE YOUR NEIGHBOUR AS YOURSELF.

Amen.

📯👑📯

🇮🇱👑🙏

🙏💖🌺🦋🕎✝️👑🇮🇱📯🕊️🕯️🧡

[zeropro]

I wondered how starscream reacted to seeing Jetfire again

It’s not going great!

Woops! I wrote a drabble. Not sure how this conversation started but this is sure how it's decided to go!

"You were gone, Skyfire. I mourned you. I…"

"You burned Iacon to the ground! Destroyed our home!"

"I did it for you!"

Skyfire finally threw down his tools and turned on the seeker. "In what world would I have ever wanted that??" He screamed, temper flaring.

"No, I wanted it!" Starscream retaliated, even as he took a step back. "I needed it, I couldn't move on otherwise."

"Yeah, because you definitely sound like a mech who’s been able to move on."

"I did! believe it or not. I became more than I ever was playing scientist at your precious little academy. I was the air commander of an entire army, second in command only to Lord Megatron. I was somebody to be respected, feared even! And then YOU had to come back and ruin it."

"How is any of this MY fault?"

"You were DEAD! You weren't supposed to come back! You weren't supposed to know about any of this. About…you LEFT me and I had to pick up the pieces and you dare judge me for how it played out?"

"Starscream, things dont just 'play out.' You made choices. Bad ones. You can't blame that on me."

"Haha! No, but I CAN blame you for betraying me! For choosing the Autobots over me! Like everything we had before meant nothing!"

"You SHOT me! For trying to protect the native lifeforms! Who does that?!"

Starscream sneered, hateful and ugly. "As if you hadn’t already made up your mind about me by that point."

Skyfire looked at him, as though for the first time. He took in how the frame shook with each haggard vent, the lines of wear framing each restless optic, the tight aggressive cant of the wings. "You've changed, Starscream. You’re not the same mech I knew."

"You’re right." Starscream said, voice dark with pride. "I’m stronger now."

"Are you? Or are you just more hurt and more bitter and more willing to hurt people? Face it, Starscream. You’ve had no one to rely on because you refuse to trust anyone. And look where that's gotten you."

Starscream glared at him. "You don’t know anything," he hissed, before spinning on his heels and storming out of the lab.

Wheeljack coughed awkwardly, fiddling with his instruments. Skyfire looked around as the science team silently got back to work.

Skywarp's were the only pair of optics that met his from across the room; his quiet stare cold, hard, and unreadable.

[tajcox]

“8 Now go, write it before them in a table, and note it in a book, that it may be for the time to come for ever and ever:

9 That this is a rebellious people, lying children, children that will not hear the law of the LORD:

10 Which say to the seers, See not; and to the prophets, Prophesy not unto us right things, speak unto us smooth things, prophesy deceits:

11 Get you out of the way, turn aside out of the path, cause the Holy One of Israel to cease from before us.”

Isaiah 30:8-11

be-LIE-fs / be-LIE-ve

Continue to do what you've always done you'll always get what you've always got. If you want things to change, then be the change 🤔

[itsfarmerphil]

W2D4: Ever considered that it might be time to stop and smell the flowers?

As today begins and I consider how in 30 years the transition times have lasted a weekend and then jumped right into the next thing without a pause or moment to stop, reflect, and refresh. This time God has opened the door and it’s been over a week now and the search continues for that next role, position, job that God had called me to get out of and go back to. God continues to encourage me…

[energ00n]

APPRENTICE AU MASTERPOST [read before you send in an ask]

[If your ask is mentioned in the Popular Questions section I will ignore it so please do me a favour]

If you're interested in the AU, let this be your guide. I suck at writing but I'll do my very best. Just a warning this is LONG and I'll probably update it as I go.

Read the AU from the beginning >> ✧

I. What is Apprentice AU?

Setting

Some basic knowledges

Apprentice AU takes place in a timeline where all the original Thirteen Primes are ALIVE. They're the rightful rulers of Cybertron and each takes charge of an aspect in their society (religion, military, economy, etc...) keeping everything running.

To be efficient with this, they take bots themselves deem exceptional under their wings and train those into worthy leaders for Cybertron. And potentially, a new Prime.

Fun fact: Only one bot has achieved Primacy through apprenticeship and it's Sentinel Prime.

2. Story

The AU mostly revolve around Orion Pax and D-16, specifically their growing relationship while being Apprentices of Prima Prime and Megatronous Prime, respectively. Orion is one curious cogless mech who loves to run around wanting to find answers to cybertron’s energon problem while D-16 only wants to keep up the hard work and potentially become commander of the High Guard one day

Some art and comic I've made of them:

First meeting - First greeting

Chatter - Pastime - Watchful eyes

Orion's upgrade (< context)

Lord High Protector

Fanwork

Fandub

Fanfic

An Apprentice’s (Unofficial) Guide to House Garments

To see only art, use the tag #apprentice_au

Ask tag for filter is #ask_ene

II. What entails being an Apprentice?

Role

A bot can only have 1 Prime as their mentor, thus wholeheartedly devote to that Prime's purpose. During the apprenticeship, the bot will learn all their Prime offers and graduate once they are ready to contribute to Cybertron.

Example:

Prima is in charge of the Religious aspect -> Orion learns of ritual and duties that help with the church

Megatronous is in charge of Cybertron's military -> D-16 is trained to be a warrior/soldier

2. Garment

Once becoming a Prime's apprentice, you are obligated to adorn their House's garment. Mostly consist of one primary colour of the Prime and an accent colour + accessories.

^^^ All designs shown thus far ^^^

*Regarding Nexus: Nexus' garment consist on a golden visor with a star on the right eye. The Visor can come in any frame!! Not just the one showed above

All the garments are considered extreme honour, a blessing that reminds the apprentices of their devotion to their Prime mentors

There's a little made up rule between the Apprentices that only your special somebot can touch your garment, consider how important it is. Like a forbidden peck on the lips if you will.

╔══ •- Popular Questions -• ══╗

"Where is Bee in the AU? Whose apprentice is he?"

He WILL APPREAR. Eventually.

STOP ASKING.

2. "Why are Orion and D-16 cogless?"

For some time now bots do not come online with transformation cogs due to the planet no longer being as potent. If not harvested as sparks, the bots will develop a frame and sprout from the ground only as cogless.

In this universe, all cogless will need to obtain a cold cog and have it be activated by a cogged bot. This activation can also be called “Imprinting”, the cogless will receive various unpredictable side effects if they use the T-cog, these effects can range from mental to physical (ex. Feeling passing sadness of the activator, frame looking similar to the activator, etc….). The Activator can even write a singular command code into the cog, effectively bound any bot that uses it so it’s highly recommended that the cogless bots only get a cogged bot they trust to imprint on their cogs.

For cogless apprentices, it is tradition that their Primes will be the ones imprinting on their cogs once they’re deemed ready.

3. "How are the Apprentices chosen?"

Vibes

4. "Are the High Guard still there?"

Yes. They're intact and is mainly under Megatronous Prime's command. Starscream, Shockwave and Soundwave are D-16's personal trainers since Megatronous has expressed his hope that D will lead the High Guard someday.

Starscream isn't happy so he's a particular harsh trainer to D but he'll be a good guardian figure when D needs him to be. D has a nice friendship with Soundwave

5. "How is X in this AU?"

Look up the name in my blog, at this point I’ve probably answered whoever you’re thinking about before. (Bee, Ratchet, Drift, Arcee, KO, Smokescreen, Hot Rod, etc…)

I’m still quite new to Transformers so I would be very appreciative if you'd give me a pic, tell me a short description of the character and maybe suggestion on what trope they might play (anatagonist, mentor, etc...). Information is always welcome especially if the character is more obscured

Please don't ask me about other Primes aside from Prima, Megatronous, Sentinel and Zeta only when it's Sentinel related. Most of it I consider as spoilers. Once again tho, info and suggestions about them would be nice.

Alpha Trion would be fine too but there's nothing much to say about him.

6. "I don't have a question just want to say I like your art <3" "Remember to take care of yourself/take rest!"

Much as I appreciate the notion, I get these wayyyy too often and it's clogging up the inbox. I'd prefer it if you guys keep it in the comment and only send them in as asks if it gets too long

Also very weirdly but being reminded to take care of myself is kinda irksome to me, I rather not keep hearing it.

7. "Can we draw fanart/write fanfic/make our own OCs for the AU?"

Yeah! I’m glad my stupid AU can inspire you. Tho I do have a few boundaries:

Dpax/Megop and Prima/Megatronous are SOLID. Please don't ship them with anyone else. Strict one-sided from others is fine tho! (ex: Bee has a one-sided crush on Orion) Tho JazzOp is an exception

Bottom Orion and top D-16 only

Orion is Prima's only Apprentice

8. A few reasons why I might not have answered your ask:

- Someone already asked it and I’ve answered it before. Keyword search may help you look it up

- It’s spoilers

- It’s not a question or anything I can comment on

- I forgor. It’s not likely but it happens

Thank you all for reading!

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC De-Aged Triplets and Their Tired Single Sister

Jason has seen the four of them a couple of times in Crime Alley now. They looked like a family, what with similar facial features- err, actually, the kids looked like carbon copies of each other, but their mom/sister/aunt/cousin looked similar enough to be related to them by blood.

Normally, Jason didn't care for each and every family that moved into Crime Alley. Sure, he cared about all of them as a whole, but there were a lot of people, and he couldn't possibly get elbow deep in every life story he came across. So all he knew about them were three things: a) they were on the run from someone or something, b) they trusted each other and no one else, and c) apparently, they have made it their life goal to never make any kind of sense.

The list of shit they have gotten into included but was not limited to:

• one of the kids biting a gun. Not the hand of the attacker who was holding it, no, the actual gun. And he bit a piece of it clean off, which earned him - or her, actually, Jason knew one of the triplets was a girl but he couldn't tell them apart - a lecture from their... mom? sister? parental figure. The lecture was about how chewing metal does not help with iron deficiency.

• getting kidnapped and creeping out their kidnapper to the point of him returning the kids back home. A few witnesses said one of the kids was actually driving, sitting on the kidnappers lap behind the steering wheel and cheerfully commanding the man to speed up or brake. Their mom actually apologized to the kidnapper for the incident and offered him homemade cookies for his troubles. He ran away without them.

• driving a lady at the laundromat insane by repeatedly walking inside and climbing into one of the washing machines. They never got out of it, just one kid walking into the laundromat, climbing into washing machine, then another kid, looking exactly like the previous one, walking inside, climbing into the same washing machine, then another kid walking into the laundromat- well, you get the idea. The lady claimed she's seen at least five kids do that in a row, but when she looked into that washing machine, there was no one inside.

• casually falling out of windows. Or, better, walking out of them like they were doors, at any given opportunity. The witness - an old man who was helping their mom with groceries - said the mom did not care in the slightest, and when he asked her about it, obviously concerned, she just said, tired and exasperated, 'they like the feeling of free fall, don't worry, they'll come back in a minute'. Sure enough, they did, not a scratch on them. The family lived on the sixth floor.

• eating insane amounts of food. Jason personally witnesses their mom give them her wallet, telling the kids, 'eat until you're full', and promptly passing out on the table, her head on her arms. The kids then proceeded to eat four whole pizzas, three burgers each, then seven brownies and at least five cups of soda. What was interesting about it was not only the amount of food they ate but the way they never left their mom unattended, one of the kids always staying beside her sleeping figure as the other two went to order.

And now, all four of them were standing in front of him. Not Jason Todd him, but Red Hood him. And he was... confused.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I said, can you watch them for a few hours? Three, maybe four," the mom, Jazz as she introduced herself, was looking at him like it was he who was speaking nonsense, not her. Because asking a crime lord to watch three kids in the middle of the night is not something a sane person would do.

"Why?" He asks, bewildered, because what the fuck else is he supposed to say?

"I need to kill a man, and if they come with me, it will take three times longer," Jazz tells him. Is she saying the kids slow her down or what? Jason can admit he's never been this confused in his entire life.

"You could ask me to kill a man, while you stay with them, no?" He tries to reason, but the girl waves him off:

"No, that will take even longer. Besides, no offense, but you kill people to simply end their life, and I need that man to fucking stop existing forever."

What's the difference he almost wants to ask. But instead of that, he just sighs.

"Why me? I'm sure you could find a babysitter-"

"No babysitter will handle them. The last one told me they have been running laps on the ceiling, which is, actually, not that big of a deal. They are kids. Kids like running around," she huffs, and Jason suspects she is missing the point here, but okay. He gets why babysitters are not an option.

"You do understand what they can witness if they stay here?" He asks, as the last attempt to reason with the girl, but she just nods and leans down, making all the kids turn to her.

"Okay, you menaces, tell me what not to do while you're staying with Mr. Red Hood."

"No eating people," one kid starts.

"No driving people insane," the other one continues.

"No, um, stealing eyeballs," the third one finishes, and what the fuck are those ground rules? Is this girl a mother to eldrith horrors? That would explain some shit.

Jazz turns to him, "See? They're all good."

In what world is that good? Jason debates if he should start running now or when she leaves.

"Do they have names?" He asks instead. The girl nods:

"Danny." His surprise must be evident even through the mask because she sighs and points to each kid, "Diane, Daniel, Dante. Dani, Danny, and Dan. Actually, you know what, let's make this easier," she rummages through her bag and gets a marker out before gesturing to the kids, "Come here."

As they do, she proceeds to draw numbers 1, 2, and 3 on their foreheads. Then she nods to Hood and puts the marker away.

"Okay, that's better. Behave, you monsters, I'll be back soon!"

After she leaves, Jason looks down at the kids. They also look at him, eerie and unblinking.

Finally, one of them - number 2, Dani, if he is not mistaken - asks:

"Do you want teeth? We have a lot."

"She doesn't mean her teeth," number 1 clarifies, "She means other teeth."

...This is going to be some very long three hours.

[shen-jius-zoloft-prescription]

Post Bingge vs. Bingmei, but it's not Bingge going on a multi-dimensional-teleportation kidnapping rampage.

Luo Binghe returns to his world, and in a rare instance of transparency and vulnerability with his second in command, tells Mobei Jun what he experienced. This Kind Shizun, in a world where he was emperor but had no sprawling harem, where the worlds had not even been combined, where Cang Qiong and all of its peak lords yet lived, and--

Wait. All of them?

Yes, all of them, but that's not the important part, Binghe tells him. The Kind Shizun--

Even Shang Qinghua? Mobei Jun isn't sure why he's so caught up on that detail.

That little rat was only barely useful enough to spare, and as soon as he tipped from resource to liability, that mercy was rectified. What does Junshang mean that Mobei Jun married this alternate version of the long-dead spy, and what does he mean that it's not important?!

How is he supposed to focus on Junshang's teeth-snapping, his frenzied ranting about Shen Qingqiu, while Mobei Jun sits and wonders what the hell he missed all those years ago? What about that spy didn't he notice? Was there actually a person he could have loved and trusted with his whole heart, and he just... didn't?

But where Junshang met resistance in his bridenapping attempt, Mobei Jun would surely have an obvious advantage.

After all, if he in this timeline didn't appreciate what was apparently meant to be his ideal mate, then surely there is another similarly foolish, short-sighted version him who will neither notice nor mind losing his Shang Qinghua.

(And in a worst-case scenario, sure, it may perhaps spiral out of control with many teleportationally-gifted demons across many timelines playing Capture the Flag with dozens of An Ding peak lords. But even then, well, Mobei Jun still likes his chances.)

[cienie-isengardu]

Self-reblogging solely so I could rant a bit about Canderous Ordo's opinion about Exar Kun, because like, thematically this make sense within the KotOR's storyline, but there is no real reason for Mandalorians to complain about Exar Kun from what we saw in The Sith War comics mini-series?

For one, it was Ulic Qel-Droma that defeated Mandalore the Indomitable in a challenge issued by the Mandalorian leader himself. And he defeated Mandalore in a duel whose rules were in favor of the Mandalorian warrior, like Qel-Droma was forbidden from using Force AND his lightsaber while Mandalore was raiding a basilisk droid. When Mandalore for the first time met Exar Kun, he was pretty much dismissive toward the Sith (who for record hold the title of master in master-apprentice relationship between those two Sith)

and under Ulic’s leadership, Mandalorians attacked Coruscant - something that Mandalorians have never done before on their own, nor during Mandalorian Wars, where Mandalorian forces were at the peak of their greatness.

But once Aleema’s scheme led to Ulic Qel-Droma capture by Republic Forces, Mandalore personally traveled to Yavin, to meet Exar and ask for help in freeing Ulic.

And the Sith agreed without showing any offense for their first unfortunate meeting nor setting any conditions.

And at the end of the day, it was Ulic that betrayed the Sith-Mandalorian alliance by switching sides due to personal tragedy and guiding Jedi to Yavin Four, when the final fight happened that officially ended the Sith War. But Mandalorians were not part of said battle, as at that time they attacked Onderon and were defeated by Onderon-Republic forces. Ulic’s choice did not affect Mandalore's mindset, as he refused to surrender when the Republic offered them a chance to do so due to Ulic’s defeat/capture on Ossus.

So again, I get why KotOR went with that direction of anti-Sith sentiment from Canderous Ordo, but relatively speaking, Exar Kun and even Ulic Qel-Droma (beside the final switching side) did nothing to Mandalorians warranting such opinion? Ulic spared Mandalore the Indomitable even though their duel should end with the warrior’s death, made him his war commander

and allow participate in battles as leader of his own people (as Mandalorian and Tetan armies are kept mentioned as separated)

including an attack on Coruscant, the same planet from where Taungs were driven off in galactic prehistory. Exar Kun had a reason to dislike Mandalore but he did not hold any grudge and helped when the man asked. The real problem was power-hungry Aleema that was dealt by Ulic and Exar Kun once they learned of her back-stabbing plan that led to Ulic’s capture. Aleema was chosen by the Sith Lords to lead an attack that, as turned out, was meant to force Jedi to evacuate Ossus and kill her in the process. Mandalore did not know Aleema was sent on suicide mission so he did ask Ulic why she was granted the honor of leading an attack, especially since they knew about her role in capturing Qel-Droma on Coruscant.

There was no anger at being questioned on Ulic’s part and as we could see in comics frames, no Mandalorian was involved with Aleema’s mission (all the loading of the ship was done by presumably Tetan soldiers). So though Ulic and Exar decided to sacrifice the problematic and troublesome allies like Aleema and Crado, they did not sacrifice Mandalorian warriors. Once the plan was put in motion and Aleema was dead, Mandalore was entrusted with a key task of attacking and conquering Onderon, while Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma set course on Ossus.

And although Ulic took with himself some of the Mandalorian warriors, Mandalore was presented as leading his people without any supervision from his Sith master(s) and ultimately rejected the offer of surrendering regardless of what happened with Ulic.

So again, I get why KotOR went with that direction of anti-Sith sentiment from Canderous Ordo because yes, Sith won't share their power, but relatively speaking, Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma did nothing to Mandalorians warranting such opinion? Especially since Mandalorians were introduces as crusaders without a crusade

that once allied with Sith finally found a new crusade to dedicate themselves:

Mandalore (Canderous Ordo): The Sith aren't known for sharing power. If the Jedi Order is destroyed for good, it's inevitable that the Sith will dominate the Republic. And then my people will be eradicated or enslaved. Helping your cause is a matter of necessity. Mandalorians helped Exar Kun during his war. We know first hand how we'd fare in the service of their like. - Knights of the Old Republic: Sith Lords

[tarotsoul]

Ghost in the Wind — Part Five

SUMMARY: Harnessing your power is growing easier by the day, and Madja finds out some interesting things about witches souls.

WARNINGS: swearing, mentions of torture, kissing, teasing, fingering, handjob, oral (female receiving—all of this is somewhat public), mentions of death

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

Series Masterlist

Cassian struggled against the vines that wrapped tight across his midriff, his muscles flexing with power but nothing shifted as they tightened with his every move. His golden skin was coated in a thin sheen of sweat, his shoulder-length hair damp with excursion. 

You were no better. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, your skin flushed as your knees began to buckle. Hold it. Rhysand’s voice had continued to purr into your mind throughout the session, guiding and commanding every step of the way. He worked you from sunrise to breakfast, then again from dusk until nightfall. 

It had been your routine for the past two weeks, and with every session, your power and control grew stronger. You could now detain a being with nothing but your mind, could bound and gag with vines and soil. This session, however, was different. Because it wasn’t just vines that wrapped across Cassian’s arms and legs and torso. 

This time, the vines had thorns. And they pierced his skin deeper with every movement he made. 

It had taken an additional two weeks to get to this point. Two weeks of introducing the Inner Circle to your magic, of slowly allowing them past the protective walls your abilities offered. You no longer had to keep your distance from your friends and family. It appeared the only time your magic attacked on its own was when you were startled or afraid. 

You’d been at it for sixty minutes already, your brows dotted with sweat. Rhysand continued to slowly pace the training ring atop the House of Wind. Feyre stood off to the side, a towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other. Nesta watched from beside her, arms crossed against her generous chest as she squinted at the way her mate seethed in discomfort. 

So far, Cassian had not been able to break free from your bindings, nor had he been able to move a single muscle more than an itch. And Rhysand was more than impressed. 

“Good,” he complimented, a noticeably proud smile on his face. At that, you slowly released your power and took a heaving breath of relief. The vines lazily slithered from Cassian’s body, the thorns leaving scratches in their wake that healed almost immediately.

“You’re presenting incredible control. Tomorrow, I’d like for you to make those thorns bigger. And by next week, I’d like to see if you can implement a slow releasing toxin or poison.”

Cassian widened his eyes at his High Lord. “I’m not volunteering for that.”

A smile found your lips as you took a few breaths to settle your lungs again. You had never expected training to be this rewarding. Rhysand was nothing but attentive to your powers and how they worked. He made sure you felt comfortable with everything you tried and he never once tried to push you beyond your limits. 

When you expressed you first wished to harness your power in a defensive way, he was more than happy to oblige. He agreed that perhaps it would be the best way to learn control, and then you could go down the route of healing, learning how to harness it for remediation, too.

And Cassian… well you were unsure if you would ever be able to thank Cassian for the trust he had for you. To allow your wild magic to bind and hurt him, not knowing if you could reign it back if it got too much. 

Rhysand chuckled at his brother. “We’ll work something out.” 

If it were Rhys, he’d practice on one of Azriel’s prisoners—draw out their pain and suffering with toxins and thorns. It would make a great interrogation tactic. But it wasn’t him. It was you. And Rhysand was not prepared to present that situation or idea to you. Not unless you came to him and it was exclusively your suggestion. 

For now, he would figure out another way. 

And Elain had told him as much before she and Lucien left just a week ago, claiming she had to reason to remain. You were safe, you would learn control. And she would visit after her and Lucien’s travels.

Feyre approached with a glass of water, handing it to you and dabbing your damp skin with the towel. From his seat across from you, Cassian gawked and scoffed playfully. “I didn’t realise Y/N was the one to be bound and pricked for an hour.” 

Nesta rolled her eyes. “Illyrian baby. As if you haven’t endured worse.” 

Despite the chuckle leaving your lips, you still offered him the rest of your water, which he happily took with a cheeky wink. You returned the sentiment with a half-smile, your body still struggling to recover from the energy the session took from you.

As much as you were enjoying it—honing your power and taking control—you couldn’t help but yearn for more. You understood the strength of your mothers magic was enhanced by your fathers Fae heritage, and you had been practicing winnowing with Mor whenever she had the time to spare…but your mother…

“I’d like to learn more about witchcraft.” 

All eyes turned to you, some wide, some weary. You cleared your throat, shifted your weight from one foot to another. “As thankful as I am for this—and as much as I am enjoying it—I’d like to learn the other side, too. Rituals, spells…”

No one spoke. You met Rhysand’s eyes and something akin to regret was lit. Your shoulders slacked at the sight. “None of us are exactly versed in witchcraft. And it has been a long while since I’ve met a witch who doesn’t feel inclined to eat me.” 

An attempt at a joke, you understood, but it did not relieve any of your disappointment. Three weeks ago, Madja had confirmed that out of all of your cousins, Elain was the only one to share similar markers in her hair and blood as you. Markers of wiccan ancestry. Rhysand had been the one to suggest Elain’s presence and similar magic may have been what awoke you. 

It had been known that when she was tossed into that Cauldron, it took something from her. Through Madja’s research, she was led to believe it had taken that power and replaced it with her Fae abilities—keeping that nature element but changing its course completely. 

Which meant you were alone. With barely any clue where your ancestry stemmed from, it was useless to even ask. But your mother had been a healing earth witch, that much you were certain of. Surely there had to be books somewhere, even if just to intrigue you until Madja concluded the rest of her research.  

“Gwyn may be able to help,” Nesta spoke. 

You turned to her. Yes, you’d heard of the young priestess, a fellow Valkyrie of Nesta’s. Your cousin had told you much about her position in the library within the House. Yet that was as far as your knowledge on her went. 

Still, it awoke that small shred of hope within you. Hope that one day you could feel close to your mother again. 

Azriel took a sip of his tea, lounging back at the dining table as he watched Cassian shovel heaps of eggs and bacon into his mouth. The shadowsinger couldn’t help but quirk a brow at his brother. Cassian had always eaten like a starved male, but this… Azriel was certain it had been minutes since he stopped to take a breath. 

“It’s not going anywhere,” Azriel quipped above the rim of his mug but Cassian did not slow. He chewed as his gaze met his brothers and spoke through a mouthful of his breakfast. “You let Y/N bind you with her vines and prick thorns into your skin for a solid hour, then you can comment on my eating habits.” 

A smirk kissed at the corners of Azriel’s lips at the thought. He would be more than willing to allow his body to you for practice. Though he wasn’t sure he’d want an audience. Especially not with how his scent was already beginning to shift at the thought alone. 

Gods, after four weeks of tasting you and touching you, he should have his hormones under control by now. But he was no better than any other Illyrian brute. He was starved for you all hours of the day—completely insatiable. He had never experienced such hunger before. It was completely overpowering. 

The sound of Cassian’s plate sliding across the table broke him from the sinful thoughts, and he looked at his brother who now seethed. “Really, Az? While I’m eating my breakfast?” 

Azriel’s smirk faded as his brows rose, taking a sip of his tea. “Are you forgetting about the time Nesta was choking on your cock, right before I was about to eat my dinner?” 

Heat rushed to the apples of Cassian’s cheeks, not from embarrassment, but from the thought of his brother seeing his mate in such a compromising position. And not because he did not trust Azriel, but because he knew that at one point, Nesta had considered the shadowsinger for herself. 

The general cleared his throat and shifted, attempting to reign in that mated protectiveness. “What’s the deal with you and Y/N anyways?”

Azriel took another sip of his tea. “What do you mean?” 

Cassian scoffed. Azriel always did that. Played dumb or completely ignored any conversation when it came to his love life or bedroom habits. “I hear you both, going into each other's rooms at night,” Cassian admitted, “you’re not sneaky.”

Azriel hid his smirk behind his mug. “Not trying to be.” 

The general's eyes squinted. He was used to his brother deflecting, ignoring. He was not used to him being so truthful and open, despite him only saying four words in response, Azriel did not deny his involvement with you. 

“You like her?” 

Azriel remained quiet, watching Cassian with a blank expression. 

“She’s been through a lot,” Cassian probed, noting the way Az’s grip on the mug tightened. 

“I know,” he got out. 

“And this is all pretty new to her… I imagine it's very overwhelming, too.” 

Azriel narrowed his eyes. “What are you getting at?” 

Cassian shrugged, slouching back in his chair as he crossed thick arms over his muscular chest. “Nothing. She’s grown a lot since coming here, and she’s growing more every day. I wouldn’t want her to feel like she’s just a secret to you.” 

Raw pain sliced through Azriel’s chest at his words. He knew you did not feel that way, knew you were always so open and honest and comfortable with him. Yet Cassian’s words still stung. He could have brushed his brother off, claiming he didn’t know what he was talking about. But that would mean downplaying what he felt for you. 

And he was not prepared to even entertain the idea of that. 

“We’re not keeping anything a secret.” 

Cassian smirked. “So there is something going on.”

Azriel finished the rest of his tea, set it on the table and a scarred finger traced the rim of the mug as he considered his next words. He did not have words to describe what continued to bloom between the two of you. Longing stares, subtle touches, heavy kisses and passionate intimacy until the early hours of the morning.

And yet you had not crossed that line, not with him. He would not rush you, would not pressure you. Azriel accepted anything you offered and gave back everything in return. 

“She’s been through a lot,” he repeated Cassian’s earlier words, “I want her to understand that she’ll never have to experience that type of control ever again.”

Cassian did not need to ask anything further. Partly because he understood what Azriel was insinuating—that he was allowing you to set the pace and decide whatever you were—and the other part because it was not his place to press for more information. It was your life, your story and your trauma. He would not invade your privacy like that. 

Cassian respected you far too much. 

So, he nodded his head, pulled back his plate of breakfast and heaped another spoonful of eggs into his mouth. He would not push on the matter, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t toy with his brother a little. 

“Y/N mentioned she wanted to learn some witchcraft. You know, spells and rituals that her mother might’ve used.” Azriel hummed, gaze fixed on the table. Cassian bit back his smirk. “Nesta suggested taking a look in the library for some old books. Gwyn’s going to help.”

Azriel’s eyes snapped to Cassian’s, his face paling just slightly. Bingo. 

The shadowsinger swallowed. “When?” 

Cassian ate another spoonful. “They’re already down there now.” 

Azriel did not bid his brother a goodbye before his shadows guided him to the library doors within the House. His heart was thumping against his chest, an anxiety like no other streaming through his veins. He was yet to tell you about his infatuation with Mor, his brief involvement with Elain, and he had not yet disclosed the same about Gwyn. 

The last thing he wanted was for you to hear anything outside of anyone else’s mouths. It was for him to explain. No one else. 

He entered the library quietly, dismissing his shadows so as to not fright the priestesses. He passed Clotho first, offering a subtle nod in greeting before sauntering further into the dim library. 

Perhaps Azriel should have mentioned this place to you sooner. Despite your love for books, maybe knowing this place was available could have helped with your healing. But you had done so well without it, and Azriel had very selfishly enjoyed every moment of your presence. 

It did not take long to find you, your scent still lingering in the air and he followed that trail to one of the higher levels. There was where he found you. Alone, eyes gleaming in happiness as you looked through the archives of rituals and witchcraft. You already had two books in your arms and Azriel did not hesitate to take them from you as he approached. 

His presence took you by surprise, only for a moment and you offered a wide smile, your chest feeling warm. As it often did when you spent time with the shadowsinger. 

“Az… what are you doing here?” you asked in a way of greeting. 

He held booth books in one arm and offered a grin at the nickname you’d taken to calling him. Gods, he had only seen you yesterday evening and yet it felt as if it had been days. You looked even more beautiful today, the gentle glow of Fae lights casting over your skin. Though he could notice a hint of exhaustion in your eyes, likely from your training with Cassian and Rhysand. 

Az stepped closer. “Cass mentioned you were down here looking for some grimoires. Thought I’d offer some help.”

You squinted your eyes at him playfully, cocking your head to the side. “Didn’t Cassian tell you that Nesta was with me? And Gwyn?”

Colour stained his cheeks. “Yes. But an extra set of eyes and hands never hurt.” He looked around then, in search of his brother's mate and the young priestess that he had saved those few years ago. “Where are they anyway? Nesta and Gwyn.”

You shrugged, returning to look at the bookcase before you. “Nesta wanted to look at some romance novels, Gwyn mentioned she saved a secret stash of the smutty ones for her.” 

You did not mention the way the priestess had looked at you with guilt or embarrassment when Nesta told her Azriel was quite fond of you. Your cousin did not need to say anything for you to understand. There had clearly been something there in the past, something Gwyn felt wrong for. She had no reason to. 

But you did not speak those thoughts to her. Instead, you offered a beaming genuine smile and thanked her for offering her assistance. You had promised to come and visit the library again, and had suggested bringing lunch next time.

It was clear to her that her past involvement with the shadowsinger did nothing to sour your current one. And she was more than thankful for it. 

“And you’re not interested? In the smutty novels, I mean.” 

You turned to Azriel with a smirk, a knowing gaze in your eyes. He mirrored it, cheekily. Gods, he would never fail to make you melt beneath that hungry stare. “Something else has been keeping my interest instead.” 

A grin, and then, “I’d like to keep your interest tonight, if you’ll let me?” 

You quirked a brow, the books long forgotten as you faced the handsome male before you. “Oh? And what did you have in mind?” 

Everything with Azriel had felt so easy in the past weeks. Even this, the flirty… it seemed to fall naturally between you both. Never once had you experienced an uncomfortable silence or nervous pause. 

It felt right. 

Az closed the distance between you, reaching a gloved hand for your waist as he leaned down to brush his nose against yours. “I was thinking of taking you to the Rainbow… more specifically, to the theatre.” 

A grin spread across your full lips. “Really?” Your excitement was palpable, and Azriel had no doubt that if his shadows were here now, they’d buzz around your small frame with adoration. 

He nodded, planting a slow kiss to your mouth. Your lips puckered against his, following his lead. There had been more of this since that fruitful night he touched you at the townhouse. 

Kisses and touches when you were alone, lingering glances when in the presence of others. Often, your nights were spent with him, in his bed or yours, in the private library or in the gardens. 

You had allowed him to touch you, taste you… he had allowed you to do the same. Azriel had given you full control over every situation, every interaction. Whatever this was between you, you could not get enough.  

“I’d like that,” you whispered into the kiss, feeling his mouth stretch into a smile before he kissed you once more. 

You leaned into him, melting under his attentive touch when someone cleared their throat and he gently broke his mouth from yours. Nesta stood to the side, a pile of books in her arms and a brow quirked. 

But Gwyn… she did nothing to hide her grin, the flush of her cheeks or the happiness that glimmered in her teal eyes. You knew she knew of your story, your trauma. And you knew her happiness came from a place of understanding. 

Understanding what it took to break through the past and live in the present. To move on. To heal. 

“Need I remind you that this is a library, not a brothel.” 

You rolled your eyes at your cousin. “You best scamper off with those books then, Ness.” 

She scowled at you playfully when Gywn breathed a choked laugh. Azriel watched her then, his body stiffening just slightly before you. But enough for you to notice, to feel it. 

“It’s good to see you, Azriel.” She offered politely. 

He dipped his head. “And you, Gwyn. Thank you for helping Y/N with the grimoires.” She brushed him off with a waving hand and turned her bright attention to you with a smile. 

Azriel felt his tension slowly dissipate, watching the way you both seemed to communicate with your eyes alone. You knew, he could tell. And you did not think of him any differently. 

Not one bit. 

The play was wonderful. Well, as much of the first half that you had seen. By the time the curtain pulled for a short break, Azriel’s hands had begun to wander. Beginning on your knee and ending between your thighs. 

He had gotten you seats in Rhysand’s private booth. And when darkness shrouded the theater during the interval, his shadows encompassed you both to hide you away from the public. 

His lips were hot on yours, his tongue licking sensually against your own. Your small hand had wrapped around his thick shaft, pumping the way you had grown to know he liked. And his fingers curled deliciously at that spongy spot within you. 

You did not stop when the curtain opened and the play resumed. Neither did he. Azriel had instead lowered to his knees and pried you thighs open, rolling up the fabric of your dress as he stared into your soul. 

Then his mouth was on your aching cunt and your head was rolling back against your seat. His tongue worked meticulously, licking and swirling, his mouth closing to create suction on your throbbing clit. 

Your fingers curled into his hair, tugging at the roots and fingernails scratching at his scalp. The first time Azriel had tasted you, he had you reach that high three times before stopping. And every time since, he had done the same. 

Though this time, you knew you had to keep quiet. Your spare hand covered your mouth, your teeth biting at the palm of your hand to stifle the moans and whines that threatened to escape. 

Your hips bucked into his face, his guttural hum sending vibrations through your veins. He was a starved male when it came to you, and you feared you would never get used to that hunger. 

His fingers continued to pummel into your cunt, curling and scissoring to stretch you deliciously. The sounds were obscene, wet and quiet but everything was far too amplified. You only hoped his shadows could also offer some form of soundproofing, too. 

“Az…” you barely managed to whisper, forcing your eyes open to watch him. 

He was already looking at you, his pupils so blown in arousal that you could sparsely see the honey you loved so much. You had never experienced such desire before. Even in the other times you had been intimate with him, it never felt as strong or as dire as this. 

Because this had you wanting to damn any consequences. Damn any trauma you had once experienced. You wanted him, every part of his body and mind and soul. You wanted to feel his thick cock stretch you out, fill you until you were crying and pleading for him to ravage you. 

You’d never once felt such primal need, and Azriel noticed the shift in your scent. Noticed how it changed from arousal to a diabolical sense of unravelling. You’d never looked at him with such ferocity before. 

And Azriel feared he would lay down his life in that moment, if you so asked. 

You tightened around his fingers, your legs trembled. You bit down harder on your palm as undiluted pleasure seized your body. As you cried silently, as your thighs shut tight around his head. As he sucked on your clit at the same time his tongue rubbed against it. 

You came harder than you ever had before. And by the way you heaved a breath through your nose, you knew Azriel had reached his high with you. 

With his hand fisting his long cock and his pleasure dripped down his scarred fingers. Perhaps it was that hunger that remained that had you reaching for him… that had you guiding those fingers to your mouth as you cleaned his come with your tongue. 

He mirrored your actions, removing his digits from your cunt and stuffing them into his own mouth to suck them clean. You watched one another, chests heaving as your pussy throbbed and Azriel’s cock twitched. 

You’d go again, you’d force him into that chair and straddle him, sink down on him until he was buried so deep within you, you didn’t know where you ended and he began. 

And Azriel appeared to have sensed your thoughts and shook his head. He pulled his fingers from his mouth, but you kept his in yours. “Not here. I won’t take you for the first time in the fucking theatre.” 

A grin spread across your lips and you released his fingers, now clean as the faint salty taste of him stained your tongue. 

You batted your lashes down at him. “What if I asked nicely?” 

He huffed through his nose, though a smile graced his face. “Don’t tempt me. You deserve more than that.” 

Your expression softened at the kindness of his words. He always knew what to say, his actions always followed his verbal promises. Another thing you had never experienced before. But Azriel seemed to take pleasure in showing you how you should be treated. 

“You deserve everything,” he whispered. 

You reached for him then, for the knitted wool of his sweater and he followed your lead when you met him in a searing kiss. No words could convey what this male was beginning to mean to you. How strongly you felt for him. 

“I only want you.” 

Azriel’s heart remained steady, despite his mind's racing. He would give himself to you in a heartbeat. All you had to do was ask. 

He was about to tell you as much, when a gentle call of his name sounded in his mind. Azriel took a brief moment to compose himself before allowing his High Lord into his mind. 

Apologies for interrupting. He purred. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. But Madja has concluded her research. She’d like to speak with us, we’re awaiting your return. 

You noticed the distant look on his eyes, the one he only sported when Rhysand called for him. Your stomach dropped slightly, not ready to end the night just yet. But the smile on Azriel’s lips suggested it would not be for the worst. 

“Madja has some information to share. They’re waiting for us at the House.”

He had winnowed you almost immediately to the bottom of the ten thousand stairs. Only then did he take a moment to fix both of your flushed appearances and plant a tender kiss to your mouth. 

He had flown you both to the balcony, gently settling you to your feet. Though your arm remained looped with his as you walked into the House proper, where Rhysand, Feyre, Cassian and Nesta awaited with Madja. 

The elder healer offered a smile in greeting as you entered the lounge, and your arm slipped from Azriel’s. 

“You will be pleased to know that I have finally exhausted all avenues for this research. I have some interesting things that I think would help and that I’d like to share.” 

Your heart thundered in anticipation. By the look in Madja’s eyes, you knew you were about to learn everything. She set three old books onto the table, their pages thick and discoloured. They must be at least five centuries old, but you would not be shocked if their age preceded that. 

“I finally managed to trace your heritage back to your ancestors through your blood and hair samples.” She paused, as if waiting for everyone’s undivided attention. 

“You are a direct descendent of Mother Garmelhia. She was High Witch of the Elesendray coven—a coven of earth witches. They were healers, though through her blood, the abilities were not always passed down to the offspring. Your mother was the first in two centuries to present these gifts. Her sister—” she turned to Nesta and Feyre, “—your mother did not possess such abilities. Elain inherited a drop of those gifts, which the Cauldron quickly took, but you—” Madja looked to you again, “—you are blessed with the rawest form. The same as your mothers, but stronger.” 

There was no hiding the silver than lined your eyes. A storm of emotions clouded your vision, your mind. Your mother… your beautiful mother… 

“For some their abilities lay dormant until something triggered it. For example, Elain’s did not trigger until forced into the Cauldron, and even then, her power had shifted when Made Fae.”

You processed her words, everything made sense. Your magic had been buried so deep within you, with your mothers mark. But you wondered if your power would have shown had she not glamoured it.

“So mine triggered the moment I passed the wall into Prythian?” you asked. 

Madja’s tight lips quirked to the side as if in thought. “It would appear something happened when you passed through. And with your Fae heritage from your father, that would have also played a part. Do you remember exactly when something felt differently?”

Your mind carried you back to that night, when Nesta took your hand in hers and guided you past that shimmering veil. When you were shoved to the ground and your hands touched the grass for the first time. You shared a look with your cousin, cocking her head to the side as if she was also trying to pinpoint it. 

“Um… right after we passed through. After that creature attacked us. Everything felt clearer, but still slightly hazy. I could sense things but I didn’t know what. I thought it was just because the land held magic…”

Rhys took a step closer, his hands stuffed into his pant pockets. There was a gleam in his eyes, one that demanded more. “Did you find anything else?”

Madja nodded, reaching for the top book of the pile and flipping it open to a random page. Indeed, the book was old, yet it somehow held the scent of something you had never come across before. Something slightly familiar, yet not at all. 

“Yes… have you ever heard of soul-ties?”

Something in your stomach almost exploded. Azriel took a curious step closer, eyes scanning the pages but they were all in ancient tongue—one that Madja clearly spoke or at least understood. 

When nobody replied, Madja went on. “Within the Elesendray coven, and many others in history, soul-ties were the equivalent of a mating bond. Through the brief history I could find, it is said that a witches soul calls to another. Not just any soul. The other half of theirs.”

“So… like a soul-mate?” Cassian piped up.

Madja nodded and she did not break your gaze. She knew something, something you did not. 

“What does that have to do with my abilities?”

“It doesn’t. Not directly at least. But it is also said that when a witch finds their soul-tie and their souls are merged whole again, it is a tether so unbreakable that it exceeds even the strength of a Fae mating bond. And unlike the Fae mating bonds, if a witch does not accept their soul-tie, they will cease to exist entirely.”

Everything went silent and your heart refused to beat. 

“What are you saying?” Nesta’s tone was not one to play with. 

But Madja took a breath and laid a withering hand over the page Azriel could not take his eyes off. “I believe you have found your soul-tie, Y/N.” 

No. There was no way. You didn’t dare look at Azriel. You couldn’t. You didn’t know what it was that grew between you, you did not know where you stood in that sense. But the relationship you had ran deep. Deep enough for you to fear losing whatever he was to you. 

You begged your power not to act, begged it not to show the fear that began to cripple you. You had already once been bound to a man you did not love, a man that did not love you. You would not be forced into it again, with a powerful male this time who could do unimaginable things if he wished. 

You stuffed that fear so far down you almost choked on it. “How do I know who my soul-tie is? I didn’t think there were any other witches in Velaris?” 

“It doesn’t have to be a witch.” Madja’s eyes bore into your very spirit. “A soul-tie would be someone who endured the same agony as you to trigger an ability, to become who they were fated to become. Nothing is by chance, the Mother forges what is meant to be. Especially for witches.”

You were too overwhelmed, scared. “But passing through the wall triggered my powers? Who else would have done that?” 

You were in denial, refusing to believe that this was to be your fate. But it was Rhysand who took a step closer, his lips parted and eyes clouded. 

“You always had your power, passing through the wall just awoke your senses, because of your Fae father. Your mother’s magic was truly triggered when we burned your mark.”

You watched as Rhysand’s eyes drifted to Azriel, to his hands. Your lungs seized, your chest ached. You could not look at him, could not dare meet his desperate gaze when a lone shadow slinked to your hand and weaved between your fingers. 

“Holy Gods,” Feyre breathed.

Azriel remained still, aloof. For if he moved even an inch, he was sure to crumble. He knew. At that moment, he knew. He’d always had his suspicions, even when you were human. His soul called to yours. The missing half of him.

Rhysand came closer again. “When your stepbrothers burned your hands when you were a child, when you were locked away, your ability to wield shadows was triggered.”

Shadowsinger.

You stared at his hands—those beautiful hands. You had not known of Azriel’s story, had not ever wanted to pry. You never felt the need to ask, never considered his hands were anything abnormal. His step-brothers had burned them. He was a child. 

And your magic… burning the mark to set it free…

It was silent for too long, like it was some sick dream and joke and the Mother only ever intended for you to experience pain and agony in your life. But it made far too much sense for it to not be true. 

You had never felt so at ease with anyone before. Had never experienced such comfort and safety than in his arms. You did not need to pretend with Azriel, you did not need to hide or apologise. You just existed. And that was enough for him. 

Because you didn’t feel a change when you passed through the wall, when that creature died. You felt it when you heard something in the sky. When you heard Azriel. 

You dared a glance at him then, at the male you were destined to be with. The one the Mother made for you. The other half of your soul. His beautiful hazel eyes stared at you with such unyielding clarity, like every ounce of pain he had ever endured was worth it. Because it brought him to this moment. To you. 

It almost seemed too good to be true. That he was for you. That he was your fate. Yet your mind would not allow one single negative thought to grow. No seeds of doubt planted, not even one. Because your soul knew, you knew. 

You had no fear in that moment, staring at him. For Azriel’s own eyes mirrored your every thought. For this first time in his life, he truly felt worthy. His mind did not allow his past to dictate if he deserved that happiness. His heart did not allow a beat to falter out of place. Steady, calm. Yet a storm raged in his soul. As it had done for the past eight weeks in your presence. 

Nothing in his life had ever felt so right before. So meant to be. He damned himself a fool for his past behaviours, for ever chasing or entertaining the idea of another. 

Azriel had never truly understood what it felt like to have a home. Not until Rhysand’s mother took him in. But even then, he felt he did not deserve such kindness, that the Mother did not grant him a home of his own for a reason. 

He had always deemed himself unworthy, such a fragile mindset had taken over his entire life. 

But she granted him you. A friend, a lover, a connection so strong it exceeded even his brothers’ bonds. A soul-tie. The literal missing half of him. He had felt honor many times in his life, had felt wanted and needed and appreciated. 

But up until this moment, he had never felt worthy. 

He did not shy from your gaze, from his family watching the scene unfold. He took a step closer as a tear slid down your warm cheek. His soul sang for yours, bellowed and beckoned and begged. That’s what that feeling had been. His soul had been yearning to reunite with yours the whole time. 

“I do not know how much time you’ll have if the soul-tie is not accepted.” Madja broke through the silence softly. 

Azriel took a step closer, almost reaching you. He shook his head. “That is not something to worry about.” 

Your chest ached, your throat burned. You could not look away from him—did not want to. If you had, you would’ve noticed the lack of your family. Would have seen them fade into the shadows with such admiration and happiness in their eyes as they left to give you both privacy. 

Madja had remained, though neither of you offered your attention. She smiled to herself, and piled the books atop one another again. “When you wish to accept the soul-tie, there is a ritual you must follow. I will be happy to guide you when you are ready.” Her words were white noise in your ears as she retreated.

You were almost shrouded in darkness now, Azriel’s shadows working to cocoon you both in a haze of privacy. Words failed you, unable to conjure even a sentence. He was so beautiful, gazing at you with such longing, as if you’d singlehandedly placed the stars in the sky. 

He was closer now, the toes of his shoes mere inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath on your face, feel a scarred hand reach to cup your jaw and his thumb brushed gently across your cheekbone. You melted into his touch, fighting to keep your eyes on him. 

“Hi,” you breathed. 

A wide smile pulled at the corners of his full lips, a row of white teeth peeking through. Your heart trembled. This beautiful male was yours. Yours.

“You want this?” He was not asking for clarity, no. Azriel had no doubt in his mind. But he would be damned if he did not make it clear that you still had a choice. No matter what, you would always have a choice. 

Your head bobbed in confirmation, a smile of your own tugging at your mouth now. Azriel grinned wider, the tip of his nose bumping yours. 

“Yeah?” he asked in a whisper, and you were giddy with excitement. 

Your eyes fluttered closed as your mouth met his. A kiss so tender and soft that your souls hummed in unity. Azriel did not need to look at you to know that flora had tangled in the strands of your hair, in the strands of his. 

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed him. And the realisation that he would get to do this with you forever… Well, it was something that finally made him thankful for his step-brother's cruelty. 

Because what a beautiful thing it was for this to be his fate.

A/N: so this is pretty much the end of the series!! It is very much open to a bonus epilogue chapter in the future that will potentially contain their soul-tie ceremony and shit loads of smut, but for now, my babies are healthy and happy!! Thank you all so much for the incredible amount of love and support you guys have shown on this series, it truly does mean so so much to me!! <3

If you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated <3

[obeythebutler]

Humans have always been so fickle, Michael muses sometimes.

Slave to the seven sins that are rooted in their souls, destruction imminent unless they redeem themselves. Be it greed or envy or gluttony, which desires and demands and takes and takes even when there is none left, or wrath and lust and pride and sloth, which brings ruin.

You, however, are an exception.

Seven Avatars at your beck and call—oops—did he mention the Prince and the demon of Time?

Nine now. Working from the shadows.

His eyes caught the markings when you came to Babel, seven sigils on your body, covered under clothing but shining with the brightness of a thousand Suns to him.

Testament stamped into your very bones.

Lilith's divinity still runs in your blood, seeps into your soul. Immunity from the corruption embedded in the Devildom, temptation turned into strength.

He had seen you take down inhumane creatures with your power: a flick of your wrist, a spell on the tip of your tongue, seven demons at your beck and call. Ready to destroy and tear out flesh, maws dripping with blood. Going back to sit at the feet of their Master after, waiting for the next command. A shepherd and seven ravenous wolves in sheep's clothing who discard their disguise when needed.

Tamer of beasts, truly, you are.

Anyone else in your position would have been caught in rapture, mind drunk with the power in their veins. Solomon the Great, Solomon the Wise, Solomon the King has been only able to attempt to form a pact with the other six beings.

Protecting humanity is his goal, but what is yours?

He had asked you once, when you decided to wander off from the Palace to the lake, content in petting a dove. The ornaments on his body clinked as he bent down to admire the creature. What it is that you desire, human? Seven Avatars at your beck and call, yet you make no conquests. What is your motive?

Michael has never been able to gauge your intentions, hidden motives in your latest achievments. Maybe it is riches, or beauty, or power that you would have sought. Maybe even the ability to manipulate Time.

A nonchalant shrug of your shoulders, you let the dove fly away.

So he settled for observing.

The Ring Of Light went missing from his room soon, and Judgement was delivered to Simeon in due time. Back to the Devildom, this time with greying feathers. Sacrilege, he had muttered, but let him take it all the same. Never let him know that he knew what the former seraphim was attempting.

Maybe angels were never meant to be too carefree.

Or maybe He was too rigid.

Your power had grown in due time, surpassing everyone else's. Sent to the past now, when the Devildom was still adapting and unfiltered. A House of Lords watching the brothers every move, deadly trials awaiting the Prince. A nascent realm, ready to pounce and strike upon those deemed weak amongst beasts.

And you stuck in the midst of it all.

Newborn demons, brutal and cruel. Still adapting to the horns sprouting from their heads, the itch in their bones maddening as they accommodated to the wings and tails. Painful metamorphism. And you emerged from it victorious—having gained the trust—and admiration of the rulers of Hell.

What is it that you want, Lilith's descendent?

Lucifer's hand ruffles your hair when he sees you at the dining table, Mammon grabs your hand while leading you through the streets, Leviathan's and your knees touch while you play games on his console. Satan strokes your knuckles as he reads out loud to you, and Asmodeus oils your hair while telling you about his day. Beelzebub and Belpheghor keep you up at night with chatter that deviates from one topic to another.

The Ring of Light sits pretty on your finger, pacts used to neutralise threats and command the siblings to halt.

He never would have envisioned it to be love.

And yet that is all he sees.

And yet so unpredictable.