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violette-hue · 9 months

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Fated | (01)

Summary: Azriel is forced to find some sort of release after being barred from pining for Elain. He finds a lovely distraction at Rita's.

Trigger Warning(s): minors do not interact, 18+, SPOILERS, smut, partying, one night stand, not proofread

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Making this, hopefully, into a series :)

Azriel should have been furious, or at least insulted. Instead he felt relieved to get a few days off. When Cassian had commented on his recent crankiness and Rhysand had agreed, he was more than ready to defend himself. But then Rhysand had suggested he take a much needed break. And then Cassian had made the comment about getting laid. He wasn’t wrong.

For weeks, Azriel and Elain had been teetering on the edge of teasing and flirting. For weeks Azriel had gotten so close to being with her, feeling skin against skin, cock buried deep within her. Yet, at every opportunity, something—or someone—had interrupted. Rhys. Cas. Feyre. Even Nyx, from time to time. Azriel new Rhys didn’t want him with Elain, but now it was starting to feel like everyone else was in on it. Conspiring against him.

But would they really be conspiring against him if they gave him a few days off to fuck?

Azriel took a deep breath as he entered Rita’s. He wasn’t really sure what to look for. A blonde, like Elain? A brunette? He wasn’t even entirely sure he’d be able to pull anyone. Elain was still plaguing his mind. It was her he wanted, after all. Maybe he should just go home and sneak into her room.

Just as he was about to turn to leave, someone caught his eye. His eyes trailed over the curves of her body, drinking her in. She was beautiful, one of the most beautiful females he’d ever seen. The lights caught on the sparkles of his dress, and for a brief moment, Elain was forgotten. It was just Azriel and the female. She was surrounded by a group of what he assumed was her friends. As he watched her hips sway to the beat, he convinced himself he could do this. If not for his satisfaction, then for some sort of release.

Azriel made his way to the bar and ordered a drink. His eyes never left the female, and he could have sworn her eyes crossed his. A shiver of static ran down his spine at the brief eye contact. He wouldn’t leave without trying.

Another moment of eye contact had him clutching his drink tightly. He watched as the female smiled knowingly. He stood, his drink discarded and walked toward her. At this point, the female had moved away from her friends, and was now looking at him boldly with sweet, sultry look.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,” the female said, her voice carrying over the music. Her voice wrapped around his brain like a mist, a hot, heavy mist that filled his veins with desire.

“I haven’t been in a while,” Azriel responded. His eyes drank the female in front of him in. She was much more beautiful up close.

“I must be lucky.” Azriel carefully watched the female’s tongue dart across her lips, moistening the chapped flesh. “Do you want to dance?”

Azriel found himself smiling, nodding subtly. His hands found purchase on her hips as they swayed to the rhythm of the song playing. Their bodies grazed each other as they moved, electricity buzzing between them with each touch. The female turned, and her luscious ass found place against him. His cock twitched at the intimate contact. He internally groaned. It had been too long since he was able to do this. His hands roamed from the female’s waist to her abdomen against the silky fabric of her dress. His fingers traced the area just below her navel, where there should be an extra bump of fabric clothing her sex. He found none, and nearly had to bite his tongue to control the sudden impulse to take her in front of everyone.

“Let’s get out of here,” Azriel found himself saying, his lips brushing against the shell of the female’s ear. “To the alley.”

The female in his arms nodded her head and started for the alley. Azriel was close behind her, his hands never leaving her hips. His cocked twitched in his pants from anticipation. Just a few more steps, a rounded corner and he’d be buried to the hilt within this unnamed female. Should it have bothered him that he cared more about what her sex felt like than what her name was? It should, he concluded, but he needed this. He supposed he could find out the female’s name quickly. At least to not treat her entirely like walking release.

The brisk autumn air kissed Azriel’s face as they finally reached the alley. Within seconds, he had the female against the wall, lips against hers with a devouring fever. The female returned the kiss, her back arching off the wall of Rita’s. His blood bubbled under his skin, and kissing her wasn’t enough. Running his hands over her breasts wasn’t enough. He thought he’d be able to play with her a bit, feel out her sex. But he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to wait.

Azriel shoved a hand down his leathers and freed his cock. The autumn breeze felt soothing against the heated flesh, and he pumped himself once, then twice. He pushed the female’s dress up her thighs enough to reveal her dripping sex. He licked his lips and rest the tip of his cock against her entrance. He groaned softly with the contact.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his breath low and husky.

The female nodded, hips wiggling for more friction. “I didn’t get your name,” she breathed, her fingertips digging into his shoulders.

He pushed himself inside her, moaning as her puffy walls embraced his length. “Azriel,” he ground out. He snapped his hips against hers and relished at the lewd sound it made. His arms tensed, his fingers digging into the fleshy part of her hips. “Yours?”

“Y/N.” Her voice was breathy, broken up by moans. She felt so good around him, so – right.

His thrusts became rougher, deeper and his mind couldn’t form a coherent thought. She tightened around him like a vise as her moans became louder and higher. His name left her lips in an utterance, like a prayer. The sound of the way she moaned his name sounded like pure bliss. Azriel found himself too close to the edge too soon, but so did this beautiful female. Within a few more strokes, she was a moaning mess underneath him. Her fingernails grazed against the base of his wings, and Azriel came with a loud moan.

Azriel stood there for some time, forehead leaning against her shoulder and breathing heavily. His grip loosened against her hips, but still held her firm enough to keep her held up. A sudden shame filled Azriel. He didn’t intend to finish that quickly, but at least she finished, too.

He raised his head, eyes meeting hers and smiled softly. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “For the, uh, quick finish.”

He watched as a dazzling smile crossed Y/N’s features. “I think mine was a bit quicker than yours,” she responded. Her hands ran gently along his shoulders and biceps. “Maybe we can do this again? For a little longer?”

Azriel smiled, and nodded before he could logically think. Some release every now and then wouldn’t be too bad, especially if he were being micromanaged around Elain.

“Maybe we can go back to my place?” she suggested shyly. Her hips rolled against his gently as an indicator to what she meant. Azriel didn’t have to think logically to answer her question this time.

#a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses smut #a court of thorns and roses imagine #a court of thorns and roses drabble #azriel smut #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel imagine #azriel drabble #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel x you #acotar #acotar fic #acotar azriel #violette-hue #fated

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variousqueerthings · 3 months

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the appeal for nine and rose for me, is that nine gets to reconnect with the wonders of the universe by seeing it through this young woman's eyes and rose gets to have a fantasy of being taken out of everyday life and see the wonders of the universe, as a simple fairytale/(re)introduction to the world for the audience

the appeal for ten and rose for me, is that they double-down on this premise because it's inevitably going to end and is constantly ticking down to that end throughout this story, and the only way for them to move through life now is to pretend that nothing ever ends which makes them increasingly detached from reality, and is in and of itself a tragedy

the appeal for ten and martha for me, is that ten is spiralling and martha is a doctor to her core, and both of them want to fix everything for everyone else except themselves and so they're mirrors of a similar self-destructive sacrificial drive that makes them orient around each other in an unhealthy coping-mechanism kind of way that martha eventually has to detach herself from, even though there were the wonders...

the appeal for ten and donna for me, is that donna is actually very level-headed, and in many ways very capable, even though she doesn't believe in herself she can make decisions that are healthier than either rose or martha could, and the doctor initially through wanting her to believe in herself forces themself outside of their bubble of despair, which somewhat breaks the cycle of the previous companions (although, not properly until a very long time later)

#rose and the doctor do not work for me if they're not a tragedy -- if the ending isn't fated and they're not running from it #and martha and the doctor... well i need some fucking closure on that one BUT i do like this story a whole lot #i think it is delicious #doctor who #dw #i do think technically martha's story with ten / fourteen / this era is over in a way that is different to donna returning for the specials #but i think if anything could explore her well it's fifteen-era (and hey maybe within that there's an allusion to her seeing donna again #and fourteen by extension)#(but the point is martha and fifteen in my head)#rose tyler #martha jones #donna noble #the doctor #the ninth doctor #the tenth doctor #the fourteenth doctor #doctor who meta

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stormhearty · 1 month

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Pairings: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 5.4k

Triggers: obsessive/toxic Azriel, indications of sex (but not explicit), blood, familial and character death, self-hurt

Summary: Azriel never thought he would become obsessed with anything. He was the stoic and cold Spymaster of Night Court. For centuries he never had anyone grow close to him — not until you, his mate. However, something lurks underneath those bright-colored eyes, and for Azriel… he couldn’t be anywhere else but near you.

Note: From this request! Thank you for sending this! It took a bit to understand the song and its musicality, but I was able to hopefully reach something that would tug the heartstrings but also have the same feeling as the song — Azriel falling for the reader, being addicted, and… Well, continue to find out. Also, I wanted it to be a Dark!Azriel, but I’m not sure if he is as dark as people may interpret, do let me know what you think of this! I wanted this to mimic “Notions of Devotion” but with a darker twist, basing it off the prequel chapters of “Secret Lady”. And also, an AU of my Seer!Reader! 👀👀👀

Temptation is such a fickle thing.

Before you even stepped through those grand doors, Azriel smelt you — that familiar aroma of jasmine and sage wafted through those doors. He was already addicted before even seeing you. He felt his shadows vibrate and shuffle underneath his feet, too excited to bask in your presence and your light.

And when you stepped through those doors, it was as if the Gods and Mother above had graced you in his presence.

You were beautiful.

You were a literal ray of sunshine as if the clouds above parted and you descended from the Havens. He watched as your skirts fluttered beneath you, the white gown — embedded with sparkles of silver and stars — made you ethereal, a Goddess walking in mortal lands.

He had heard of you through his shadows — a Seer within Prythian’s borders.

The first known Seer in millennials.

The Seer that the High Lord of Day Court had kept secret for centuries — the rumored daughter figure of High Lord Helion.

The whispers of your power were not foreign in Night Court. You had used your powers of foresight to bring forth change throughout all of Prythian — you had used your powers for the greater good — all the while keeping your identity a secret.

Azriel had only heard of your name — (Y/N). The whispers of your name and beauty from Day Court spread like wildfire throughout Prythian and many had wanted to meet you, even glance your way to see your beauty.

Even Azriel had grown curious.

When he was sent as an emissary along with Mor to Day Court soil, he hoped and wished to see you pass by. Your aroma of jasmine and sage echoed throughout all the halls he walked through, his shadows scurrying around hoping to find the source of such captivating fragrance.

But he never got even a glance at you.

He had heard the light shuffling of feet, every time he passed a hallway or a room, his head perking up at the scent of you. Every time he felt your presence, heard your feet, smelled you, he scent his shadows on a hunt — to find you, to bring you to him.

He was already addicted — all he wanted was you near him, to bask in your scent and presence.

But every time his shadows came back, it was for naught. He watched them whisper that they couldn’t find you — that as if by magic, you would vanish in midair. Azriel didn’t know if you were avoiding him… but you had no reason to — there was no connection between the two of you, no reason for you to avoid him.

Azriel had grown frustrated at that thought — you were a temptation. You filled his thoughts every waking moment for days on end while he was at Day Court; and even when he arrived back to Night Court, your lingering scent stained his clothes to the point he almost burned them to rid the thought of you. But in the end, he couldn’t.

It would erase everything he had felt for you — of that he yearned for you. That his whole time in Day Court was nothing but a fleeting hallucination, that you would become nothing but a lucid dream.

And it felt like you were nothing but that.

He would lie at night, dreaming of you — you haunted him, awake and asleep. Azriel could reach out and grasp you, hold you close to him — he could practically taste you, but every time he thought he would be able to see your face in his dreams, he would awake — as if the Gods tried to stop him from knowing you completely.

And so when he heard that you would be coming to Night Court as an emissary from Day, his heart picked up a beat at the thought of you again.

Azriel felt the tap against his mental shields that shook him from his thoughts. Hazel hues glanced at his High Lord, seeing that playful smirk that tugged on his lips and he heard the snicker from the General.

“Oh shut it, the both of you…” he hissed in his head at them before he straightened his composure, focusing back on you and the two guards that flanked your side from Day Court.

You were more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. His thoughts of how you could have looked never matched the beauty that you radiated as you walked towards the dias where the Inner Court had sat.

You elegantly bowed in front of his High Lord and Lady, and he just watched you — mesmerized by every little action that you did. He watched you straighten up, fixing your locks behind your ears and over your shoulders; he watched those delicate hands fiddle with each other in nervousness that you couldn’t help but emit.

It was so adorable and endearing on how you looked.

He was absolutely in love with you already.

And when you looked towards his way, your eyes staring into his own hazel — he felt his chest burst with color. His usual world of black and white beamed with color he never thought he would see. His chest warmed, ached, and called out to you — he felt that golden string that he only heard of from his brothers — one that tied your soul to his.

Azriel stumbled backward, clutching his leathers at his chest, his breath taken away from him. He heard your gasp — it was such a lovely sound — as he watched from the corner of his eyes, you stumbling as well, the guards holding your shoulders to stead you, all the while his High Lord and Cassian rushed to his side.

“What happened, Azriel?” his High Lord asked him — commanded him.

Despite the command rushing through his body, his mind rejected it, all his focus on you and those hands on your shoulders. The sight of other hands besides his own, made Azriel feel territorial. He felt the bond in his chest vibrate in anger, and his shadows swirl around him, waiting for their master to let them loose to attack. He let them loose, watching those tendrils of darkness whisk forward to wrap around your pure form, watching them slither up your legs, up your arms, pushing those hands away from you.

The sight of his shadows, his darkness, curling around your form made the bond sing, and a dark satisfaction curled around his heart.

All he wanted to do was cover you in his darkness, making you all his.

He watched as you looked at those shadows before your gaze shifted to his own once again. His body thrummed with happiness and satisfaction as you looked at him with wide eyes, and the only thing that slipped from his lips was:

“Mate."

“How do I look, Azriel?”

He watched those eyes beam up at him, cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of pink, and his ears perking up at the laugh that escaped your lips as he placed the flower crown on top of your head.

His heart rattled in his chest at the way you looked up at him. How your eyes sparkled with happiness and how your laugh was so pure and unabashed. You glowed with so much pureness and happiness, that all he hoped was that he could be the only person that could make you feel like this.

“Stunning,” he affirmed, his words blowing with the wind, “I picked them in particular because I knew they would suit you well…”

Hazel hues watched your features absorb his words for a moment, eyes shifting before looking back up at his own — eyes wide and bright staring up at him — unguarded and so vulnerable. He felt the bond sing… but a darker voice resonated behind that elation — how beautiful would it be to have everything about you just be his. To watch your pureness, your light, your beauty be drowned in his shadows… in his darkness.

“Yes…” he whispered, leaning into your features, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, sliding slightly so that the tips of his fingers grazed the base of your neck, his other hand coming up to gently wrap around your waist, tugging you closer, “Look at me, just like that…”

Azriel brought your face closer to his own, your scent overwhelming his senses — how addicted he was to your smell and he couldn’t help but wonder if you tasted delicious as well as you smelled. Hazel hues watched that baby pink shade turn darker on your cheeks and his heart swelled with pride.

“Keep looking at me just like you are, (Y/N). Is it too selfish for me to ask you, to just look at me… and only me?”

He leaned down and pressed his lips against your own and he was right — you tasted divine. His lips moved against yours, and he felt your hesitance in the kiss, your hands hovering over his chest, a feeble attempt to push him away. He gently bit your lower lip, feeling you gasp against his lips and he delved in, tasting your mouth to his heart’s content. Azriel brought you closer to him, feeling you slump against his form before gently bringing you down to the soft grass underneath both of your feet.

Azriel pulled away from the kiss, his large form hovering over your own. He watched as your chest heaved, those lips parted in a gentle ‘o’ shape, dark red from his kiss. You looked ravished, not so pure anymore — and it made his body pulse. He felt his shadows, swirl around you, clinging onto the strands of hair that spread around your pretty head, onto your shoulders and upper arms; he watched them move over your dress, tugging onto fabric until they loosened over your body.

His eyes darkened, watching inches of skin be revealed to him and you having no attempt to cover up or hide from him. A coo escaped his lips as he leaned down once again, lips attaching themselves to the crook of your neck as he felt your hands slide up his arms to cradle his head against you.

“Why would I look at anyone else, Azriel?” you mused, your voice out of breath, “When you are my mate? When the first time I saw you, you already filled my world with so much hope and light…”

Azriel felt himself growl, his kisses becoming more and more desperate against your skin. Teeth scraped against flesh and hands grasped at anything that was you. Your gasps and moans filled his ears, and he felt the darkness in his heart grow more and more.

He wanted to cover you in him, cover you in that darkness that grew inside of him. He wanted your light that radiated from your soul to darken, to taint it with his essence.

It was funny indeed — how you saw him with such pureness in your eyes, in your heart, in your soul. When in all reality, he was the opposite of that.

He was dark — there was nothing pure about him.

Not when it came to you.

Drip… Drip… drip

Azriel ran his blood-stained hands through dark tussled locks, as he stepped into the foyer of the River House. Dark red blood stained the marble floors of the home, dripping down from his leathers, the undeniable squish from underneath his boots.

He tilted his head up, staring at the night-kissed ceiling — a painting done by his High Lady’s hands.

I’m tired.

He pondered as he continued to walk the quiet halls of the house, all too quiet except for the thump of his blood-covered boots. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, hazel hues stared at his hands — one maimed and disfigured, one that was covered in blood. Azriel felt like it seeped into his very skin, touching his very soul. A frown tugged onto his features as he wiped it on the marble railing of the stairs, watching it streak — tainting the white color with red.

Azriel had just come back from his interrogation from Hewn City, his High Lord requested it. They needed information on the looming threat of the Deathless God.

You had been the one to warn about the threat — your powers taking over you to give the prophesized vision of the God in the Lake. All of Prythian took heed of such words that slipped your lips.

He had become busy, more busy as of late, to the point he rarely saw you.

He missed you. Missed the way you looked up at him with such adoration, with such love; missed the way you would feel underneath him; missed the sound of your voice — your gasps, your moans, your laugh.

Azriel blinked hazily when a shadow ran from underneath his grasp and up the stairs. Hazel hues watched that shadow, before noticing a figure on top of the stairs.

He blinked again, adjusting his eyes to the light before seeing that it was you.

However… it wasn’t you.

Those hues weren’t the ones that he loved. They were light, almost white… Unfamiliar… yet familiar at the same time. You looked at him, but one without the familiar feeling of love; you stared at him, as if staring into his soul.

Your powers had taken over you again.

Azriel walked up those steps, towards you, and once he was in front of you he felt your arms wrap around his shoulders, the blood that stained his leathers seeping into your pure white clothes. That dark feeling inside him grew once again, seeing such imagery… the pure you, being tainted by him.

He looked into your power-filled eyes, watching them unblinking up at him. A sigh escaped his lips as he lifted you into his arms, your body light as a feather and he continued his path to your shared bedroom.

Stepping beyond the threshold of those grand doors, he kicked them shut and laid you down on the massive bed, pressing himself closer to your form. He did not care that the blood continued to taint your clear skin, he wanted more.

He stained your thighs, your arms, your chest with red, his shadows slipping off your, now, red slip. He brought your hand to his face, pressing blood-stained lips onto the palm of your hand before his fingers drew an eye on the back of your hand — a sign he always drew when you were like this.

An omen, hoping to call the real you back to him.

A giggle escaped your lips, as you took your hand back, head tilting at the image that he drew. A knowing smile tugged on your lips as you leaned up toward Azriel.

“You seem nervous, Shadowsinger…”

Azriel fought back a shudder — it was your voice, but also not your own. Your powers had taken you — mind and body. Your power echoing through your voice, one so ancient and one so powerful, it resonated in the air, all-powerful and all-knowing.

This wasn’t the first time that your power had overtaken you.

The first time was your divine prediction of the Deathless God’s return.

It was a day Azriel could never forget.

He had thought he had lost you to your power, thought that you would never return to being you again. He watched as you writhed in pain, sweat dripping down your forehead and onto the sheets. You were sick with a fever days before that moment, and Azriel had thought you were having a fever dream. But when your eyes opened, and unfamiliar white hues stared at him — he knew it wasn’t a fever dream.

The Bird of Ash and Fire, flying over the dark lake. Power resonating… The Cauldron calling to its like. He will rise and plunder Prythian to destruction. Fire and shadow submerge all of the light.

Fingers touched his face, bringing him out of his thoughts as hazel eyes focused back down at you, that knowing smile still on your features.

“There is another prophecy… you have yet to hear, my dearest Shadowsinger… One that concerns your dearest sons that your wife has borne.”

Brows scrunched on his features, as he pulled away from your body — the first time he has done that. Hazel eyes locked onto omnipotent ones, “What are you talking about, seer…”

Azriel never called your name when you were in this state… he never thought this was you.

This was the all-seeing Seer of Prythian.

This was not his mate, not his wife.

That knowing smile tugged wider as you slid your fingers over his eye, covering it with your palm — as if to blind him from the truth that you were to spill.

“Our sons will, in the near future, rip their own mother to shreds…”

Hazel eyes widened, continuing to stare down at you. A laugh escaped your chest, echoing into the still room.

“Are you afraid, Shadowsinger? Are you afraid that your mate will despise you? You have a choice now…

“Will you follow fate’s string, abide by the course of nature set by the Cauldron and the Mother above, and allow your mate to be brutally die at the hands of your son?”

He watched you lean up, pressing your palm further into his eye before he reached up and grabbed your wrist and pull it away, fingers digging into tender flesh to the point it would bruise.

“Or… will you wish upon the powers of your mate, the Seer… to kill your sons?

“Will you be willing… to kill your kin, one that you had wanted so much to the point you pushed your mate’s body to the brink of breaking. Or do you dare change your mate’s destiny of death?”

Azriel watched as tears cascade down your cheeks, your hues slowly hinting back to their normal color — that your powers were slowly leaving your body alone.

“Even if you are at the end of your wife’s wrath for it?”

The preeminent voice left you and the whimper of his name slipped your lips.

A coo escaped his lips, leaning back down to press his lips against your own, hushing you from your cries. When he pulled away, he watched as your eyes return to your own, staring up at him — tears continued to streak down your cheeks.

“—-Don’t… Azriel… Please —- Not our sons…” you muttered, begged your husband not to listen to your vision.

He pressed another kiss, taking your breath away from you. He felt you relax underneath him, your hands slipping from his hold and back onto the bed, the tension in your body slowly slipping away.

“—- Father…”

He glanced up from the kiss, seeing his two sons — Rhysar and Rian at the threshold of the bedroom. Azriel pulled away from the kiss, glancing back down at you, the even breathing indicating that you had fallen asleep — it happened every time your powers left your body.

Your words echoed in his ears — he had to choose.

The family that he grew with you… his pride and joy — his sons.

Or the love of his life… his mate — you.

He had heard the whispers from his sons, his eldest especially — the ungratefulness that spewed from their lips. That their mother, despite being a Seer, was from unknown origins and that their father was a bastard Illyrian from the depths of war camps.

He did not care about the hatred that spewed from their lips — but to utter ungratefulness about their mother who bore them... Who almost died to bring them into the world.

Azriel would not tolerate that.

Not when you were everything to him.

With one last glance at your sleeping form, he slowly moved away from you, slipping out of the bed as eyes stared at his sons — hazel hues dulling from his decision.

He will choose you all the time.

Even if it meant killing his own flesh and blood.

Azriel stalked towards them, his large figure overpowering the two of them. His shadows whisked out from his own, darting towards them as they turned and attempted to run — their screams filling the hallways.

A frown tugged on his lips, as he closed the door behind him, attempting to silence the screams from reaching your ears. He stayed still, guarding those doors to the bedroom, allowing his shadows to zip through the halls — to bring his sons back.

The scrambling of feet echoed through the hallways, their terrified screams echoing all around him. He knew that the rest of his family would hear it, and would attempt to stop him from taking his sons’ life — he couldn’t let that happen.

Not when your own life was hanging by a string.

His shadows dispersed, blanketing the River House, locking each door, and preventing anyone from leaving their rooms.

He could hear it — the frantic yells of his family, the confusion in their voices at what was happening.

"Azriel what is going on? Why are your shadows everywhere? "

The Spymaster took no need of his High Lord's questions as he silently waited for his shadows to drag his sons back. He placed a dark wall up in his mind, casting aside Rhysand’s questions and even his High Lady’s frantic pleas.

He didn’t need distractions — not when he had a goal in mind.

The screams and cries of his sons grew louder as he watched the spindle of shadows drag them back by their ankles. Hazel eyes looked down his nose at them, watching them shake and plead up to him — his very image staring back up at him.

Azriel never realized on how much his sons took after him, not a tall tell sign of his wife’s features in either of them. And it disgusted him. How can something like that come out of something so pure like you? He couldn’t understand. The only thing that was remotely you was in your second son, Rian — his eyes sparkled the same hue as yours.

Truth-Teller materialized in his hand, and he raised it to the dim lighting, watching it shine, eyes staring at the glint of his dagger before back down at his oldest son.

Without a second thought, the dagger stroked down.

The screams never ended, and Azriel’s skin dripped with blood once again.

“She hasn’t eaten or slept in days — anything she happens to swallow, she always throws it back up. Her condition is deteriorating, Azriel…

“What have you done?”

The Spymaster stepped into the vast room, the quiet sobs echoing through reverend walls. Hazel eyes trained on you as you pressed yourself against the stone casket of Rhysar, mourning over his death. His step echoed as he made his way towards you and he heard your sobbing stop as you looked over your shoulder, and up at him.

His heart tugged a tiny bit, your hallowed cheeks, dark circles underneath your eyes. You were exhausted, the death of your eldest son taking a toll on your mind and health.

Azriel attempted to tug at the golden string that connected the two of you; however, he only felt the hallow feeling on the other side, your heart slowly encompassed by shadow and darkness.

His mind knew he shouldn’t — but he felt pride seeing his mate look so haggard. His sick mind knew that no matter what, you would always look back for him — that your fates have always been intertwined.

“Say something, Azriel…”

Your voice was small, barely reaching his ears.

“Whether it be an excuse or a reason… Just say something, please.”

He watched as tears streamed down your cheeks, onto the dark colors of your mourning gown. It had been weeks since Rhysar’s death and yet you still continue to wear it — it had been gorgeous on you, Azriel’s dark voice revering in his head that you were beautiful in black, and not your usual white.

“Tell me you did it for your love for me… go on. Tell me… anything, on your reasoning for killing our son. Despite my pleading for you to not listen to the vision I spewed.”

Azriel remained quiet and another sob wracked through your body, a thinned hand coming up to press against pale lips, an attempt to hold back throwing everything up from your stomach.

Dull hues stared up at him, “The fates and Mother will continue to scorn me… Despite all of this, I can’t help but still love you. I have loved you for so long… that mating bond was just another thing that had pushed me to love you…”

He watched you move from the casket, dragging your body on marbled floors to where he stood. Azriel felt your hands grab his leathers, grasping onto anything on him as you continued to sob.

“Please… Say anything. At least… it would make me hate you even less…”

Azriel sighed softly as he leaned down and brought you into his arms, carrying you bridal-style as he pressed his lips against your own — once again, silencing your cries.

He felt you shake in his grasp, your hands pushing at his shoulders, tugging on his hair — attempting to pull away from the kiss. He let you, and he heard you gasp, taking in air as you looked at him, brows furrowed and your lower lip wobbling.

“Why!!” you yelled, your voice hoarse and cracking. You continued to push at his shoulders, clawing at his leathers. Azriel held you tight against him, afraid that if you moved too much in his arms, you’d fall and damage yourself.

“Why don’t you say anything?!! Why did you have to kill our son?! Because of the vision? Because of my powers?! Why!!?”

You gasped, pressing a hand against your throat — a tall tell sign of a panic attack seeping into your bones. Azriel brought your face close to his again, pressing his lips onto yours once more, an attempt to bypass the attack that was waiting to happen.

He felt your body calm against his and he sighed in relief into the kiss, pressing you closer to him. Azriel moved towards the wall, pressing you against it. His lips moved from yours to your neck, teeth and tongue scraping against the skin, and felt you relaxed in his hold.

A distraction for you and desire from him fueled his actions. His shadows felt their master’s desire for you and helped, pinning your form against the stone walls as he knelt, hands pushing and tugging layers of clothes.

He whispered devotion against your skin before devouring you in his darkness, in his love. A sinful moan escaped your lips, pressing yourself further into the wall, the silvers of shadow intertwining around your limbs as Azriel devoured you.

You glanced down at familiar scarred fingers as your mate traced the bruise that was on your wrist, one that was not of his making — but one that was made by you.

Your gaze was not focused as your mind was elsewhere — your memories flashing behind your eyes of what had occurred the past few days.

The birth of your High Lord and Lady’s first child — the heir to Night Court was brought to this world. You had loved that child, much like he was your own… you had pampered and spoiled the child rotten, a way to distract your racing mind.

Your power was starting to grow out of control.

There were moments where you were in control of your body and mind, and the next thing you knew, you were watching your powers take over you — as if your soul was pushed out of your body and all you could do was watch in horror of the visions that you decreed.

What had pushed you to the brink of hurting yourself was the day you noticed how Rian’s eyes glowed a familiar eerie color — one similar to yours when your powers overtake you.

Rian had inherited your powers.

And the first vision he ever saw had rattled you to your knees.

You watched as the power took over your child, those eyes glow and all you wanted was to pray to the Gods, to the Mother above to spare your child from such fates of being a Seer. Those all-seeing eyes stared at you as he pointed his small finger at you.

“Skin and bones burned and swallowed in darkness. To the father that has betrayed his kin, killed his own flesh. To the mother who continues to sit in darkness. There will be violence, there will be death. The Seer’s path will always walk in bloodshed. To ensure your kin will live for millennials, only your death will stop the madness.”

You felt fingers caress your cheek, and you blinked your dull eyes staring up at your mate who looked at you with so much softness that it tugged at your heart.

Oh, your mate — your wonderful and beautiful mate.

How much you loved him with your entire being, the entirety of your soul.

You had no idea where it had gone astray — was it the moment he heard of you? The moment your name reached his shadows and ears? Or was it when the bond snapped? That your souls were tired indefinitely that made your husband lose his mind to the darkness in his heart?

“(Y/N)…” he muttered.

Your name sounded beautiful in his voice — his baritone tone that rumbled in his chest, and echoed in your own. You fought back a shudder as you continued to stare up at him, watching those hazel eyes swim with something you were unable to identify.

“I told you to tell me when things get to hard for you. To tug on our bond, to call my shadows, to whisper my name. You shouldn’t have to hurt yourself like this when your powers overwhelm you… I could help…”

The warmth of his hand that cradled your cheek was so powerful that you couldn’t help but lean into it, your hand clutching your mate’s wrist as you snuggled into that warmth you loved.

A chuckle rattled out of Azriel and you felt him pull you closer to him, pressing his lips against your own.

You found that Azriel loved to kiss you, to make love to you at his convenience — to distract you, to distract him, from the world around both of you.

Your body fell back against soft velvet of your bedsheets, your husband’s body hovering over yours as he grounded himself onto you. His hands pressed against your sides, tugging on clothes and flesh to his desire.

“Instead of asking you, my love… I should make it an order — to stop you from hurting yourself.”

His lips slid from your own, sliding down your neck and shoulder, as fingers tugged your dress from your chest. His lips wrapped around the sensitive bud, as those darkened hazel eyes looked up at you.

“If you have no intention of doing what I ask of you —”

“I am doing exactly a you ask, my love.”

You felt him pause in his love making, pulling away from your breast to look at you. You felt your powers slowly take over again, and this time around, you had no intention of stopping them.

“I know how much you love me, to the point you are willing to die, Azriel. I know that any scars on my body hurt you more… than the ones on your own.”

You brought up his marred hand — one that was always covered with blood and scars — to your lips and pressed a kiss on them, one so gentle and soft that he barely would feel it.

“Let us make a wager, Shadowsinger…”

Your hands dropped his and slid up his broad arms, over his shoulders and around his neck, delicate fingers grasping onto black locks tugging enough to tilt his head back from your position. A pleased hum escaped your lips as you leaned up and bit down on the junction of his neck and shoulders.

“Anyone you will love after me… will be punished for it. They will lose their lives, their families, and themselves to the darkness that you have in your heart. And without anyone to love… you will lose your mind and die of madness.”

A cough raked your body, blood spilling out of your lips. You smiled down at your mate — your powers finally at its breaking point. You used the last of your powers, forced your powers to fully take over you, to call upon one last vision. You felt your vision start to blur, the vision of your husband the last thing you’d ever see in this world.

“You have caused this curse upon yourself, Shadowsinger… You should have simply told me you loved me… from the very beginning.”

#( .inbox request : how fate so cruel )#azriel angst #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #acotar angst #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel x you #( .inbox request )

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pancreasman · 22 days

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Greek mythology AU? 👀

Amy as the goddess of love, Blaze as the goddess of wisdom, Rouge as the goddess of festivity might make more!

#sth #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sonic fanart #sonic au #amy rose #Sonic and the three fates au #amy rose fanart #blaze the cat #blaze the cat fanart #rouge the bat #rouge the bat fanart #greek mythology #greek mythology au

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lordelmelloi2 · 8 months

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The first few I had made and either did post and forgot about or didn't post at all. the last few I entered a frenzy about and made all at once. legitimately my fate shitpost backlog I had to get through. theres probably so many more I haven't made but some of these I have been legitimately sitting on for months and months

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aq2003 · 5 months

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really love how throughout a lot of smith and jones martha is really skeptical and apprehensive towards ten (+ one of my favorite exchanges between them - "what, people call you 'the doctor'?" "yeah?" "well, i'm not. far as i'm concerned, you've got to earn that title."), not taking everything he says at face value, even doubting the fact he's an alien until over halfway through the episode.. And like. i really truly think the thing that wins her over isn't him kissing her or any of the other insane mixed messages he manages to send, it's this scene here, where he /earns that title/ in her eyes:

(+ david's bit in the commentary, where he says: "[the doctor] has actually sacrificed himself, and - i would say, that that final act of selflessness is what finally, eventually, welds martha to him. [...] and she now returns it. she returns that act of selflessness.")

this is what their relationship is built on. it isn't about martha being the second-best replacement to rose or a rebound or whatever. bc it isn't really about rose. it's about doctor-in-training martha meeting someone (quite literally, "the doctor") whose ideals she aspires to, and doing her best to be the same person to him as he is to everyone else. it's about ten in return admiring her intelligence and inquisitiveness and how she cares for human life, recovering his compassion, letting himself lean on her for support - and then remembering at the most inopportune moments that he's supposed to not need anyone and be on his own forever. And around in their little nightmare loop they go where they save each other over and over until one of them breaks

i've seen ppl look at martha and go "why she does she admire/why is she so in love with ten if he acts like that to her?" or something along those lines and like. it's not just the fact she's in love with him (in fact i'd argue she actively tries to push it aside post-gridlock). it's the fact that she knows he's the kind of person to put everyone else's lives/well-being over his own. she trusts him to save her when she's in trouble even though it's been like two days at most that they've known one another bc she recognizes that same "deep all-encompassing drive to help others" in him. and she also recognizes, much much earlier than him, that he needs someone to save him, especially when he's unwilling to save himself. and yeah for a bit she thinks he returns her feelings and is just playing hard-to-get, but she realizes pretty early on that this probably isn't the case, and i think that realization fully solidifies here:

(this is when she's listening to ten talk abt gallifrey). And idk it might just be me but i think this expression isn't just her empathizing with his loss. it's also guilt, for wanting something from him that he's clearly unable to give when he's wracked with so much grief. (and you see it in the next episode, where tallulah asks if they're together and martha says for certain that they're not, and that he doesn't know about her feelings for him. she keeps everything to herself bc she now knows that when he shut her flirting down at the end of 3x01 it was the genuine reaction of someone who a) isn't interested and b) is scared of getting close with someone else again)

freema described their dynamic as "she's keener than him" and i think about this all the time. martha doesn't really take what ten throws at her. what she does instead is constantly poke holes in his already-failing front of "i will show someone the wonders of the universe so i can ignore what is wrong with me". what she does is stand up and fight him when he tries to go off on his own. what she does is put aside her well-being in favor of helping someone - just like what she saw him do for the people in the hospital when they first met. tldr, that's the doctor and his doctor and rip martha you would've loved who's gonna save u now by rina sawayama

#THIS ISNT ABOUT ROSE WE CAN STOP THINKING ABOUT THAT WHITE GIRL FOR 1 SECOND. IDC #ALL SHE DOES W REGARDS TO MARTHA IS REMIND HER THAT TEN ISNT GOING TO FALL IN LOVE W HER.#ALL SHE DOES W REGARDS TO TEN IS REMIND HIM THAT EVERY TIME HE LOVES SOMEONE HES FATED TO LOSE THEM. WE CAN IGNORE HER PAST THIS. GBLESS #martha jones #tenth doctor #dr who #ten and martha #'theyre like a rebound' shooting you with my laser eyes sorry. martha says it when she still thinks he's taking her on dates #if he hadn't opened up about gallifrey she would've been totally fine w him taking her back home #and meanwhile ten is very unaware of any kind of romantic element until like the fuckinn. last possible moment lmfao #they are doctor and mentally unstable bus driver. Or perhaps grieving man (genderneutral) and their One (1) friend that has to support them #um idk what this post is. i wanted to pick apart martha's brain for a hot second.#edit:#it's not like 5 am and i'm reading these tags and they're a lot more mean than i meant to put them down as #Not changing them bc i already wrote so much it's out there in the world already sorry. just imagine i'm saying this all nicely #10 era

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foxish-draws · 8 months

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My art for the @endlessbigbang 2023 ✨ For jamais_vu0's awesome as hell fic, Where Dreams Dwell Not

#the endless big bang #the sandman #hob gadling #dreamling #meowpheus #sandman #the fates #johanna constantine #rose walker #lucifer morningstar

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thisblogisaboutabook · 18 days

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Spring Fever

Tamlin x Reader - Smut - Angst - Fluff

After an outburst directed toward an unwanted visitor, a resident of Tamlin’s manor prepares to face the consequences of her actions but the High Lord has something else in mind.

warnings: smut, language

Moonlight and night air filtered through the edges of the pastel velvet curtains as the beat of my racing heart overtook the silence of my bedchamber. Seated at the edge of the large four-poster bed in my now permanent room, I took steadying breaths. In. Hold. Out. Hold. Repeat.

Who was I to have shown anything less than reverence to the High Lord of the Night Court? To his credit - in his own fucked up way - he’d tried to help Tam out of the stupor he’d spent years in but the male had been through so much already. How could the face of the mate of the love of his life bring any peace to his already broken soul?

These visits always ruined what small progress Tamlin had made. I tried to remain calm but damn it - Tamlin had finally stopped curling up outside of my door at night, on alert for any hidden threats. He’d given me a genuine smile on a stroll through the gardens just this morning. He’d even cooked this evening. Yes, a simple meal of roast venison and root vegetables, but a meal nevertheless. He was making progress and as if he sensed it, Rhysand showed up to “check in” on Tamlin right after dinner.

And just like that, Tamlin’s demeanor crumpled. I couldn’t take it anymore, the irreverence toward my mate’s own trauma. My temper rose to a point of no return, pouring out as spewed vitriol very unbecoming of a lady in the manor of a High Lord.

To his credit, Rhysand only eyed me with intrigue and didn’t mist me on the spot after I suggested he take his “good intentions” and shove them up his ass and showed him the door.

Tamlin only eyed me with an unreadable expression and requested that I stay behind while he escorted the Night Court’s High Lord from the estate.

Deciding against pressing my luck further I exited the foyer and saw myself to my chambers where I now sat waiting for the inevitable lecture, hell, maybe he’d kick me out. I only lived here out of his generosity. His tolerance of me certainly spurred on by the unaccepted mating bond that snapped when the magic chose me on Calanmai.

Two lonely souls bound together by fate.

We’d spent the past ten months living in companionable silence, both healing from the wounds our souls bore. And now, I’d likely torn down the careful progress we’d built brick-by-brick in one fell swoop.

The creak of my door withdrew me from my self-loathing retrospection and the quiet thud of boots crossing the wooden floors grew louder with each step in my direction. I didn’t look up. Couldn’t face him. Didn’t need to as the tension between us laid it all out clearly.

He’d never laid an ill-intentioned hand on me, we rarely even touched. Calanmai was a one-time thing. We’d brushed hands a time or two at the dinner table, he’d caught me as I stumbled in the garden once. I almost - almost - flinched as my High Lord’s hand came into my peripheral but all I was met with was a broad, gentle palm to the nape of my neck and the soft caress of a thumb running along my jaw line. I looked to him with furrowed brows, eyes lining with silver as I awaited whatever came next, but all I was met with were deep green eyes filled with anything but rage.

I averted my gaze as he fell to a knee in front of me. “Look at me, dove.” his typically gruff voice softer than I’d ever heard.

He waited patiently before I turned my head to look upon him once more. His eyes bore into mine, searing right into the depths of my soul. I could feel my heart hammering as his breaths grew rapid.

“You-“ he spoke, one large hand remained caressing my jaw as the other covered my own hands, folded in my lap. “You defended me.”

I puzzled. Was that a shock to him?

His emerald gaze flicked back and forth while remaining locked on my face, searching for an answer to an unspoken question. Why?

Withdrawing one of my hands from his grasp and resting it delicately upon his muscled chest, I replied definitively, “Because you’re mine.”

His breathing paused, rose lips pressing into a firm line. Processing. The silence between us pressing into me like a blade.

His voice cracked with his next words. “You want me?”

“I have since your eyes found mine on fire night.”

Before I could shift, or speak further, his lips were crashing into me like the violent swell of a storm falling upon rocky shores.

My lips gaped, breath hitching at his response, the desire I’d shoved deep within me pouring out at once as I opened for him, his tongue sweeping into my mouth, dancing along mine. A small, involuntary whimper escaped me as he lifted off of his knee, leaning over me as I slid back deeper onto the bed, careful not to let my lips leave his for even a moment - eliciting a groan from Tamlin.

My finger tangled into his long, blonde hair as he braced his weight over me with one arm, his other holding my hip, thumb running over the silk of my cherry blossom dress.

“You’re mine.” I rasped out in a hushed murmur between our shared breaths, pulling away just enough to look into the eyes of my mate again.

My chest heaved, breasts rising and falling with each gasp. I managed another whisper, “You’re mine, Tam.”

With those words, he lost any semblance of control. His fingers tugged my hair, exposing the column of my neck to him. His soft lips pressed heated kisses along my jawline, down to my neck, giving little nips and licks over the corresponding hurt as he went. “You’re mine.” He growled back, possessiveness overtaking his tone.

All I could manage was an “mmhmm” as he pulled the neckline of my dress down, exposing my breasts to him, his lips latched onto a peaked nipple and gods - the mouth on this male. As he licked and sucked on my breasts, jolts of electricity shot through me, straight to my core. I needed him lower and he knew it. His claws unsheathed, shredding through my dress and undergarments. I shivered as his stubble grazed my abdomen with each kiss tracking lower and lower. So close to where I needed him. My legs fell open in invitation, displaying the dripping need he elicited from me. His pupils blew wide as he took in the sight before him, realization of just how desperately I wanted him activating the most primal facets of the mating bond.

He pulled back, eyes boring into mine once more. “Say it, Y/N.”

My heart nearly shattered at the pleading expression of his features. This was real. My desire for him so tangible that he need only run a finger up my center to remind himself. But this was deeper than that, deeper than just want, deeper than mere lust.

“Tamlin.” I whispered.

“I’m yours. All of me.”

And I could have sworn the slightest hint of silver lined my mate’s thick lashes as he let loose that final reign of restraint.

His mouth latched onto my clit. A male starved. Starved for affection, starved for intimacy, starved for understanding, for love. But I saw him, all of him - and I wasn’t afraid.

His tongue laved against my core, moving with expert precision as he teased my most sensitive nerves, swirling around my clit before lowering to my entrance. He groaned like my essence was the sweetest nectar of any flora in his court and I couldn’t hold back the moans and praises spilling from my lips.

A thick finger plunged into me, curling so deliciously as he sucked my throbbing clit. He’d send me over the edge in no time. “Please.” I begged as the imminent release had me on the edge of a precipice.

I whimpered as he pulled back, the sharp angles of his chin and plush lips shining with the coat of my arousal. I could have come just from that sight alone. His deep voice sending chills through me as he commanded, “Say it, one more time baby. One more time, and then let go for me.”

His mouth returned to my core, latching back onto that sensitive bundle of nerves as two fingers now curled inside of me, his other hand tweaking a rosey nipple, “I’m yours. I’m yours. Oh gods, Tam. I’m only yours.” I chanted as release barreled through me. My sex pulsing around his fingers. His hips bucking into the bed in time with my orgasm, desperate for friction.

And I was greedy.

“Tamlin.” I spoke through heated breaths. “I need more.”

With a flick of his wrist, his clothes were gone. My jaw dropped when he rose to his knees before me, his erect length already beading with precum.

I licked my lips, raising myself to admire as he gave a few pumps to his heavy, aching cock. My mouth watering with the need to taste him.

He splayed a hand between my breasts, pushing me back into the mattress. “Time for that later. Need my baby coming on my cock.”

“Oh gods.” I moaned at the words, my core was an inferno with them at the realization that my mate needed to be in me just as badly as I needed to be filled by him.

And fill me he did. His head easily slid through my slick folds and I knew that length, and fuck, that girth, would hurt in the most pleasurable of ways.

“All of you.” I whimpered. “I need all of you. Now.”

With that he scooped me up, spreading my legs to straddle his hips. He braced his weight on his arms behind him, his muscles flexing with the shift, and crossing his legs, spreading my legs further across him.

“Take what you want.” He commanded.

And I realized then that he wanted me to set the pace, that he’d never risk hurting me. Especially since it had been so long since we’d been together.

I aligned his length to my entrance, locking my gaze onto him, admiring the planes of his gorgeous face before meeting the sea of emerald taking in each micro-expression of my own face.

“Yours.” I spoke boldly, and sank down each thick inch of his cock until I was seated to the hilt. The pleasure quickly overtaking any semblance of pain.

Chills spread through me at the loud growl of satisfaction he let out at the sensation of my cunt gripping all of him. I remained pressed down, gently swiveling my hips to adjust to his size, and pressing a hand to the slight bulge his length created in my belly.

“Fuck.” I whimpered. “You’re so- oh - you feel so…” my brain couldn’t formulate any words beyond that as another gasp escaped my lips as I rose up slowly and sank back down again, moaning in pleasure with each stroke of his length within me.

My arms wrapped around his shoulders as he shifted up, easing the weight off his arms and taking over, lifting my hips and sheathing me back down his cock, over and over, harder and harder, my heavy breasts bouncing in time with the pace. The sounds of my wetness gushing with each thrust was obscene. Removing one hand from my hip, he slid it between us and pressed his thumb to my clit. Within seconds I fell over the edge again, my face falling to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, incoherent babbles pouring from me, muffled by his neck.

“Gods” thrust. “You’re” thrust. “Divine.” He thrust my still fluttering pussy down onto him once more and let out a loud groan as he found his release, the pulsing of his cock as he spilled into me threatened to push me over the edge once more.

Our breathing evened out as he remained sheathed within me. I kept my face buried into his neck, refusing to let this moment of bliss end. My mate had yet to loosen his grasp on me, so we stayed like that, reveling in the feel of skin on skin for some time.

Finally I rose off of him, though he was hesitant to loosen his grip. “Stay with me tonight?” I asked hesitantly. Afraid he’d once again retreat to his chambers or to the hallway outside of my door.

Tamlin laid down pulling me onto his chest, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Every night.” He spoke into my hair.

“Every night.” I hummed in agreement.

——————————————————-

General ACOTAR list: @lilah-asteria

@tamlinweek - tagging you for Day 3 “mates” but not sure if it counts since I posted this on Sunday. This is my first of any “weeks” I’ve participated in 🥰

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arcueidbrunestud · 1 year

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#fate #shitty edit but i had to bring roses idea to life

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nose-coffee · 1 month

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“I’d like to play you another song about suicidal depression. It’s about – if you are a certain type of person – me – . . . uh, you hear about somebody who did something horrible and drastic and you feel bad, but there’s a part of you that goes, ‘what, that’s, now I know, now I recognize my kind, because he did that.’ So this is about a guy who did a terrible thing and he couldn’t live with the memory of it, and so he went and did a worse thing, and it’s called ‘Cry for Judas.’”

- John Darnielle, frontman of the Mountain Goats

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violette-hue · 8 months

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Fated | (01) (02)

Summary: Azriel’s been coming over more frequently, and decides to spend the night. He opens up about some of his problems.

Trigger Warning(s): **18+ ONLY, minors do not interact, SPOILERS, unprotected sex, smut, cursing, jealousy, mentions of nausea, mentions of being sexually used, heartbreak-ish, not proof read

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: not at all what I had planned, but I’m happy with how it turned out :)

Over the next month and a half, you had gotten used to a body warming your bed. Azriel was sound asleep next to you, the blankets relaying dangerously low on his stomach. Your eyes greedily took in his exposed skin, his toned chest and stomach, the dark line of hair trailing down beneath your blankets. Ever since Rita’s he had been the one warming your bed. He wouldn’t come over to your small apartment every night, but most nights he was here. He’d come over, fuck you proper, and sleep. Sometimes he’d wake up and repeat the process—one, two, three times in one night until he was satisfied. You knew that’s what you were for, some release and satisfaction, but Azriel had been coming over more frequently and maybe, just maybe, that meant something. You weren’t delusional enough to think he was falling for you, but it had to mean something, right? A piqued interest, a slight tug of the heart.

You chewed on the inside of your lip and brushed a few strands of dark hair from his forehead. When he had come over last night, his face had been so full of emotion, his eyes stirring. You wondered what could have gotten him so worked up. Azriel wasn’t keen on sharing much personal information. You knew his name, that he was Illyrian, and that he worked for the High Lord. He wouldn’t say anything more, even when you asked. So when you saw all the emotions built behind his walls, you didn’t ask any questions. You invited him in and eased any tensions the only way you knew how.

Still, you couldn’t help but question why he chose to return to you each time. Was there something about you he liked that he was apprehensive of saying? Were you just an easy conquest? Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, churning last night’s dinner. You hoped that wasn’t the case—you hope he called on you because he wanted to, not because you were too easy. Though, you supposed it shouldn’t have mattered…you were no one to him. And he was no one to you. Should be no one to you, but you weren’t ready to touch on that subject. Not when it could ruin everything.

You tore your eyes away from Azriel’s peaceful face and made your way to the bathroom. You ran a hot bath, and when you were comfortable enough with the temperature, stepped into the deep tub. The hot water hugged your skin and worked wonders on your sore body. Azriel was a passionate lover and handled you with care normally, but last night he had been unhinged. Whatever was bothering him must really be eating him alive. You looked at your arms, at the red marks around your wrists. You closed your eyes as the memories from last night flooded your mind.

He had wrapped his large hand around your wrists above your head with such force as he pound into you. Your legs were loosely draped around his waist, barely able to hold on as you were overwhelmed with pleasure. His fingers dug into the fleshy skin of your wrists, right between the bone. You had cried out with both pain and pleasure as he rode out your second orgasm of the night. The second of many.

You opened your eyes suddenly as the familiar throbbing ached between your legs. The memories of him were enough to make you heated. You brought your legs up to your chest and rested your elbows on your knees. You tried not to recount your sessions with Azriel, least you wanted to spend the next half hour to an hour pleasuring yourself. Even that wasn’t enough to sedate your lust. Not when it came to him.

Azriel was unlike any lover you had taken to your bed. He was larger than any other male you had lain with, and had more stamina. He was more attentive, making sure to not hurt you too much and give you rest in between sessions. He made sure you finished at least once before finishing himself, and he’d usually run you a hot bath after you’d both settle down. He’d be gone after a bath, but this time… You looked to the closed door, Azriel sound asleep on the other side. This time he had chosen to stay. Deep down, you wanted to believe he stayed because he wanted to, but you knew better. You were sure he only stayed because he was too tired to leave.

The silver door handle turned and the dark, wooden door swung open. Azriel shuffled inside your bathroom with a mumbled good morning and leaned against the door frame.

“Good morning,” you replied softly. “The bath’s still hot if you’d like to join.” You tried to keep your eyes from roaming his naked, glorious body.

Azriel nodded and strode over to the tub. He stepped in gently, the water reaching just below his knee. The water rose as he sat across from you in the deep tub, and you pulled the stopper to drain some of the excess. You both sat in silence for a bit, enjoying the hot water on your muscles. Your eyes roamed over to his chest, his face, and he smiled.

“Why are you so shy all of a sudden?” Azriel asked. He reached for you with gentle hands and pulled you over to his lap. His fingers traced along your jaw in comforting strokes.

“Sorry,” you started, “it’s just that you’ve usually never spent the night before. I’m not sure if I should be making you breakfast or waking you up by sucking your cock.”

Azriel laughed, his chest brushing against yours. You situated yourself on his lap, your knees placed next to either side of his thighs. You ignored his cock brushing against your thigh—or at least tried too.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to either, but this is fine, too.” He inhaled deeply, his muscles relaxing as he exhaled. “I’m sorry if I’m imposing, I should’ve asked if it was okay to stay.”

“I’m fine with you staying.” Your hands ran up his firm chest to his neck. Your fingers slid into the hair at the base of his neck and massaged the area. “You looked like you needed it.”

“Yeah, I did.” Azriel’s eyes shut as he enjoyed your ministrations.

This is how it was always like. You’d poke at the situation, hoping he’d open up and tell you what was wrong, only for him to give vague, short answers and leave you in the dark. Though, why should he tell you anything? You were only his lover. Lover. The word made your heart sing and squeeze at the same time. How many other lovers did he have? You shifted slightly.

“Feyre, she has this sister,” Azriel started. You jumped at the sound of the High Lady’s name and listened intently. “Her name is Elain. Rhys won’t let me near her. She has a mate, but she doesn’t even want him.”

Your furrowed your brows. “Why won’t he let you?”

“Because the sexual tension keeps building and we need to stay on good terms with her mate. They haven’t even mated officially.”

Your fingers faltered and your heart dropped to your stomach. “Oh.” Nausea crept up your throat and churned your stomach. You willed the dread away, willed yourself to say something else. “I don’t really understand politics.” You mentally kicked yourself. What a stupid thing to say.

This was why he had been coming over to your apartment so worked up? This was what you had let your body be used for? To release sexual tension for another female? You felt sick to your stomach. How could you have willingly let a male you just met have that much of a hold on you? Those sessions you thought meant so much to him, meant nothing at all. You were the other female, not some lover. You forced your face into neutrality, forced every muscle in your body not to recoil with disgust. You weren’t even disgusted at him. You were disgusted at yourself for letting him in so easily and falling hard.

Azriel nodded slightly. “He could ask for a duel if Elain and I got intimate. He’d die, and Rhys can’t have him dead.”

“That makes sense, I guess.” Every nerve in your body was yelling at you to run away. “Why doesn’t she just reject the bond?”

“I don’t know. No one will let us be alone to even ask that question.” Azriel lay his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him. “I…I haven’t been using you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

You tilted your head to the side. “My mind crossed that option.”

He sighed deeply and ran his hands up and down your lower back. “I won’t lie to you, at first it started off that way. But I like this thing we have. The company, the sex – it’s comfortable..”

You forced a light laugh and prayed it sounded natural. “I’m not really sure that sounded like a compliment, but thank you.” Your fingers tugged slightly at the hair on the base of his neck. “I like this thing we have, too. The sex is good.”

Azriel smiled. “The sex is good.” His lips brushed against yours softly. “It’s great.”

You giggled, and just like that, any disgust you had felt minutes ago was washed away. You allowed Azriel to kiss you deeply, allowed him to run his hands from your ass to between your thighs. You sighed deeply as one of his digits entered you with ease and curled against your soft walls. One, two, three fingers entered you, in and out, in and out. Your sighs morphed into strangled moans as his lips clashed with yours. He swallowed your breaths, your whines as he worked you to an orgasm. You writhed in his hold as release came over you in waves and you called out his name breathlessly.

“When I’m with you, it’s like all my problems melt away,” Azriel murmured against your lips. “Like I’m okay to just be me. No worries. No problems. No fights. No nothing but this.”

You nodded, your hand reaching down to guide his cock inside you. You cried out as you sank down, taking him all in. He hissed and gripped your hips tightly.

“Me too,” you gasped. “I like this – love this.” You moved, your hips rising and falling against him. The water splashed outside of the tub, sploshing loudly. You’d clean that up later. Now, you needed to get all of him inside you, again and again until it was enough. It wasn’t enough. His length deep inside you, brushing against the edge of you and it still wasn’t enough. Your nails raked down his back as you cried out. You needed more.

“Fuck–you feel so good–” Azriel ground out beneath you, his hands guiding you down on his cock with enough force to drain the tub of nearly all it’s water.

“Good enough to forget Elain?” The words left your mouth before you could think of the consequences. But fuck the consequences and fuck Elain. Azriel was yours. Your heart squeezed at the intrusion. He was yours.

Azriel didn’t skip a beat. A crooked smile tugged at his lips. “Jealous?” His fingertips dug into your skin.

You shook your head. “What’s there to be jealous about?” you said breathlessly. “You’re fucking me, not her.”

He grunted and held you close to him. He stood quickly and stepped out of the tub. In an instant, your back was against the cold tile and your legs were hanging over Azriel’s shoulders. He thrust into you harshly, his balls slapping against the wet skin of your ass.

“That’s right, baby,” he ground out. “I’m fucking you.”

You choked on a moan as his thumb moved harshly over your clit. Closer and closer you were being pushed to oblivion. Your stomach tightened with a familiar feeling as you locked eyes with him. Release was coming soon, but you were nowhere near satisfied. Your back arched off the tile as you tried to wrap your legs around his waist. You needed to touch Azriel, feel him closer to you. Your hands snaked around him to rest on his back, your nails finding purchase in the skin on his shoulders. His chest flushed against yours, you kissed him vigorously. Teeth scraped against one another, tongue brushing against tongues, you thought you’d die. You felt too good for this to be real.

Release washed over you like a white hot wave. Your legs squeezed around Azriel, and you heard him curse. You felt his cock twitch inside you, sputter as he emptied himself in you. You lay on the floor panting, legs locked around your lover. Your heart felt so full, you almost didn’t want to move. Except, now your legs were cramping and you needed another bath. You peeled yourself off of Azriel and sat up slowly. The familiar feeling of his cum slipping out of you made you tense.

Azriel placed a tender kiss to your forehead and helped you stand up. His hand trailed up your arm to your wrist as he led you back to the bath. He tensed as he saw the red marks on your wrist.

“Was this me?” he asked, bringing your wrist closer to him.

“From last night.” You stepped into the tub slowly, careful to not slip. You turned the faucet to refill the tub with hot water.

He placed a soft kiss on the red flesh. “I’m sorry.”

You raised your head and met his gaze. You wanted to say that it was fine, that you had enjoyed it, but the air sucked right out of you. Something in his eyes stirred and reached out to you. Not physically, but mentally – almost divinely. It was as if his shadows reached inside your body and filled every crevice, every cell. Your heart sang as his eyes searched yours for a response.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled.

It wasn’t okay, not in the slightest. His shadows danced around you, or at least you thought they did. You weren’t sure of anything at this point. You weren’t entirely sure you were even standing. You felt lightheaded and completely grounded at the same time.

Mate, his shadows sang. They sang louder and louder until they overpowered you. You couldn’t see any light, there was no way out of this.

Azriel was your mate.

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