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azrielslightintheshadows · 5 months

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Heyoo! Can i request az x reader where they're mates and vowed to each other that till death do them apart. But az started questioning if he would die for his mate ever since elain came into picture, bcos of the 3 brothers for 3 sisters thing. And reader sort of found out about az's feelings and wanted time off from each other. Then all of a sudden war broke out in the court and everything was crazy. Reader went out to look for az making sure he is safe when she saw an arrow shot towards him and reader took the hit for az. And az started to regret his doubt in thie relationship and begging for his mate's forgiveness. Major angst pls and the ending is up to you! Thank you and have a great day 💖

Scattered Vows.

Azriel x f!Reader

Warnings; way too much angst, mentions of death and battle. Mental illness.

Masterlist.

Uhm my heart broke. I think you will need a tissue box.

You watched the door of your bedroom for what felt like hours. A sigh escaped your lips, and you pressed your head on your mate’s pillow, his scent so faint like he hadn’t slept in your bed for weeks. And he probably hadn’t, you couldn’t remember the last time he stayed in bed for more than three hours.

The city was bright and warm offering a perfect view from the hill you were currently standing on. Your friends’ eyes were filled with tears as they watched you and your mate standing in front of the priestess.

“What do you vow to each other?” She asked.

“I vow to be by your side, protecting you and loving you until my last breath.” Azriel’s eyes watered as he spoke, his scarred hands grabbed your own and he pressed a soft kiss on your skin.

“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.” You chuckled and Azriel smiled.

“May the Mother bless this union and let it bloom like the most precious flowers” the priestess shouted and started murmuring a prayer.

“I love you my angel” Azriel whispered.

“I love you” you whispered back as the tears streamed down your face.

You teared up at the memory. Those vows meant something right? Even though he reeked of jasmine when he came back, he loved you right?

You heard the door open, and your mate’s footsteps filled the silence, making you wipe your tears and sit up. He removed his boots to not wake you and you suppressed the urge to scoff, you slowly slipped out of bed and walked down the hall to find him.

He was standing at the middle of the kitchen watching the two cold plates on the table with a frown.

“You’re here” you noted, and he glanced at you.

“Please don’t start I’m not in the mood.” He huffed.

“Don’t start what Azriel? You stood me up AGAIN” you threw your hands in the air.

“Fine you want to do this now? Okay” he yelled, and you flinched.

Azriel had never raised his voice at you, it was one of the things you loved about him, how you could always talk things out without wrecking your vocal cords.

“Where were you?” You asked and stepped closer.

“I had to finish some reports” he replied and you stepped even closer making him back off, you quirked a brow knowing exactly why he did it and marched to him sniffing. Jasmine.

Your hands clenched into fists, and you growled “you were finishing off reports or Elain’s cunt?”

His eyes widened and he bared his teeth “don’t speak for her like that”.

Your heart broke into million pieces, every fear suddenly felt real and deep down you realized that the union bloomed like a beautiful flower, but in Elain’s garden.

“You’re defending her?” You gaped at him, your face pale.

“I can’t do this anymore y/n. Lately I’ve been thinking about everything and especially our vows…” he trailed off and you felt like his feet were stepping over the pieces of your heart, crushing them into even smaller fragments.

“Go on” you whispered and let the tears escape.

“I’ve been thinking about Cassian and Rhys…they are mated with two of the sisters and I wonder if I should be mated to the third one. Three brothers and three sisters.” He explained and his eyes watered.

“What?” You asked him.

“I just don’t feel like I want to protect you until my last breath…. Because I can’t protect both of you at the same time…” he avoided your eyes

“You want to protect her until your last breath” you whispered and he nodded.

“Okay, please pack your things and leave.” You continued.

“Don’t do this” he breathed “I’m so confused, I’m not even sure if this is what I want. I just spend time with her to see if I’m really interested or if it’s just a sick thought”

“You want me to stay with you until you decide which one you want?” You gasped at his nerve.

“I-i don’t know. Can we just take a break? I won’t touch her I promise I just need some time to think.” He pleaded.

You felt numb, and an adamant wall fell on your side of the bond, blocking him entirely.

You just wanted to be alone, you didn’t have any more power to argue. “Okay. Pack your things and leave and we will speak again when you make your decision.” You lied hoping it will get him out of the house as soon as possible.

“Thank you” he gave you a sad smile and walked into your bedroom. The small cottage you two had built a few months before the ceremony felt empty and dull now as every promise of love died slowly.

You covered your mouth with your palm to keep the sobs in as you clenched your eyes shut and let the tears flow. Azriel reached the door with a small bag thrown over his shoulder and glanced back at you. You turned your back on him and waited to hear the door shutting.

“I’ll be back” he promised and left.

When you couldn’t hear the beating sound of his wings anymore you let it all out, a heartbreaking scream wrecked your throat and you dropped on your knees. Every kiss, every touch, every promise pierced your skin and escaped to the darkness of the sky.

You remained on the kitchen floor for two days, letting every feeling out hoping that it would stop hurting so bad. You reached a point of numbness, where even your love for him was dull now, cursing at yourself for trusting him. He had your fragile heart in his hands, and he crushed it into mist, without a care, without a hint of regret. You pictured him in her arms and rage made your body tremble, you despised her even though it wasn’t her fault. She sure was a wicked female for leading on a mated male but then again why should she care? He was the one who should have said no.

A booming sound pulled you out of your thoughts and you felt the ground shaking making you furrow your eyebrows and peek out the window. Velaris' shield was gone, you couldn’t feel the magic anymore and winged creatures descended from the sky, slaughtering everyone in their path. The autumn court’s banners emerged from the mountains, with an army behind them. You gasped and quickly grabbed a dagger, running out of the cottage and winnowing to the main square, Feyre and Mor were there holding swords and shouting at people to hide.

“Where’s Azriel?” you shouted at Feyre.

“He….” She paused “He took Elain out of the city, he’ll be back in a few minutes.”

You shook your head, not letting your family’s betrayal cloud your senses. They knew and they supported them, like you never existed.

You ran towards the creatures letting all your feelings out as you sliced their necks, your vision clouding and the image of Azriel flying Elain to safety was the only thing you could see. You crouched and placed your hand on the ground screaming, your eyes became white, and your power flowed out of you, destroying creatures and buildings on its way. You gasped for air and glanced around you, Azriel had landed a few steps behind you, his eyes wide as he stared at you and what you did. You noticed a creature lurking in the corner with a bow in its hands, it grabbed an arrow and pointed it to your mate making your face pale.

“Az” you screamed and ran… ran like your life depended on it, the arrow was shot, Azriel whipped his head to the direction, and you jumped, using the remaining power to lunge yourself in front of him. Silence, deafening silence, a cry, pain, fear and darkness.

Azriel watched the arrow piercing your skin and the tip emerging from your back.

“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.” It rang in his mind.

“I would even take an arrow for you.” He cried out your name.

"I would even take an arrow for you.” “Stop” he ordered himself.

“I would even take an arrow for you.” He grabbed his head, his hands covering his ears.

“I would even take an arrow for you.” “No” he screamed and started hitting his head.

“I vow to be by your side, protecting you and loving you until my last breath.” He fell on his knees.

“Lately I’ve been thinking about everything and especially our vows… I just don’t feel like I want to protect you until my last breath…. Because I can’t protect both of you at the same time…” Darkness.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel woke up with a groan, he was in his room in the house of wind. He glanced around and noticed Elain sitting on a chair by his bed, her hand holding his own.

He stirred a bit and pulled his hand back making her flinch and open her eyes.

“Az” she whispered and tried to pull him in her arms.

“No! Where is she?” he shouted.

Rhysand entered his room and nodded at Elain to get out.

“Rhys where is she?” Azriel raised his voice again.

“Calm down, you need to rest, your shadows almost strangled you to death” his brother spoke.

“What? Why?” he gaped.

Rhys sighed “I went into your mind while you were asleep, you ordered them to strangle you because you wanted the thoughts to go away”.

Azriel’s eyes watered “Where is she? I have to go to her, I have to apologize. I need to beg her not to leave me”.

“I’m sorry brother, you’ve been out for five days. We couldn’t wait any longer so we buried her at the garden of your cottage”

“No!” Azriel screamed “No no no”

“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.” “NO” he screamed again as his body started seizing.

Rhysand quickly moved to his side and grabbed his head making him go to sleep again.

“I’m sorry brother” he whispered and glanced at Feyre who was standing at the door, tears were streaming down her face.

“It’s done” she informed him and let him in her mind.

“Are you sure you want to do this y/n?” She asked you.

“Yes, this is for the best. Just tell him I’m dead.” You replied.

“Okay, please take care of her.” She spoke.

“I will, I promise to give her a place in my court” Eris nodded.

“Thank you” Feyre replied, “for everything, we wouldn’t defeat Beron without you”.

“It was my pleasure” Eris smirked and grabbed your hand.

Feyre let a tear slip as she watched you disappearing with Eris.

“Do you think he will survive this?” She asked Rhysand.

“I doubt it.” He sighed and they walked out, closing the door and locking it.

Sorry <3

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gaysindistress · 4 months

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Limits of a Fae Heart - one

All ive been reading is ACOTAR fics for the last 9 days so here’s a lil something for our shadow baby boy Az. two | three | four | five | six

“We’ll take it from here,” a rich smoky voice calls from behind me. The two sentinels shuffles around, nervous with this new arrival and both reach for the swords strapped to their hips. I look over my shoulder to see a shadowy figure emerging from the treeline. From this distance, all I can tell is that it’s a towering form blurred by a vaporous mist that blends in with the darkness around us. A shiver pricks up my spine at the sight of the mist as memories of the King of Hybern’s men chasing me come flooding back. They never spoke to me, only jeering and laughing, so I know that this figure isn’t one of them but the fear still finds a home in my stomach.

My hand itches to reach for the black blade I used to wear but there’s nothing. I have no weapons and am only clothed in a thin white nightgown, making me feel vulnerable in a way that I detest. All I have is my body language and my words so I straighten my back and square my shoulders before turning to face the figure.

“Stop where you are. You are not welcome here,” the taller sentinel shouts to the shadowy figure and it stills a few feet from me.

I can’t see much without the sun but the lightning illuminates enough for me. The first thing I see is the small smirk that plays on parted pink lips, revealing straight white teeth.

“I am welcome anywhere that I please,” that stupidly smooth voice response and my eyes tear away from the lips to meet a pair of stunning hazel eyes that I will never forget. From beneath long lashes, the most soul piercing eyes make me their sole focus. In them green outer rings fade into golden brown pools that reminds me of the trees back home. Something about them warms the freeze that’s set into my body while also setting off every alarm bell inside of my head.

“Leave before we escort you back to your court of nightmares,” the sentinel shouts again but neither the figure nor I acknowledge her.

The figure takes another step towards me so I can see more of him as the sky streaks with more flashes of lightening. My eyes fall to the ground from the bright light and they land on his feet. Black leather boots cling to his legs while leathery scales act as a second skin and protect every inch of his body. He’s wearing Illyrian fighting leathers.

The recognition of my people’s armor stings worse than it did when I was cut down.

His skin is a golden tan, only furthering my suspicion that he’s Illyrian but the massive wings that sprout from his back are the true indicator. I pry my eyes from them and continue to take in every detail as I reach his face. Short dark hair falls over his forehead and curls over his ears as the sharpness of his face becomes too perfect. He is tall and sculpted, honed muscles seem to make up his entire body. Everything about him is too perfect, too sculptured, too attractive. The hair on the back of my neck stands on high alert and I find myself backing away from him without realizing.

The sentinel voice breaks my trance, “Shadowsinger, leave at once.”

His smirk turns into a devastatingly beautiful smile at the mention of his name as his eyes shift over to the men but they find me again within seconds.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Y/N,” he says to me and me alone. Once again a hand is offered to me but this time I want to take it and I almost would have if someone hadn’t seized me from behind. I let out a shout, albeit cracked from being silent so long and struggle against the strong arms that encircle me.

“Quiet, we’re helping you,” a low male voice whispers into my ear.

“Don’t move,” he mutters to me and pulls me further away as the sentinels frantically look between the two Illyrian males and me.

“Hold onto me,” he instructs as he flares his wings out and spins me so we’re chest to chest. This male has the same hazel eyes and tan skin as the other but there’s a roughness to him. He winks at me, no doubt teasing me for staring and then he shoots up into the sky. He takes us high above the island that I must have been buried on and only stops to hover when we are a safe distance away. Below us, the sentinels and the other male are but specks of light and dark.

A flash of lightening strikes close to us and the male holding me curses under his breath. He mutters an apology to me before we’re encased in a cloud of black mist and my knees meet cold stone floors. I tumble out of his arms, gasping for air and gagging all at once. His muffled chuckle makes me more angry than I am sick and I clamor to my feet. Searching for something to use as a weapon, I find a vase on a nearby table and hurdle it at him. He ducks and the other male appears behind him, subsequently being hit with the vase. He’s able to cover his face and it shatters on his forearms, sending shards of clay everywhere.

A third male voice calls out, “I specifically remember telling you to not piss her off, Cassian.”

A shudder races across my body at the sound of his voice. The High Lord of the Night Court comes to stand beside the rough male, Cassian while the other, the one the sentinels called the Shadowsinger brushes off hits of clay.

“I didn’t do anything,” Cassian says with his hands held up in defense and shakes his head. “We willowed here and she probably got sick, hence throwing the vase.”

The High Lord arches a dark brow and turns to the other male, “what about you, Azriel?”

Azriel.

The Shadowsinger. He is name is Azriel.

Now I can see that the black vapor around him are really shadows, twisting and moving around his body. They reach towards me as a hum begins to vibrate in deep inside the void of my chest. Long ago a similar hum lived there but the male it was tied to had done terrible things and destroyed it. The golden warmth that once filled me was stolen when he betrayed me and left me to bleed out on that island.

I narrow my eyes at the shadows and Azriel sucks in a sharp breath, causing them to flinch away. Rhysand glances between us, obviously sensing the internal conflict happening between us and opens his mouth to speak.

“You should’ve left me alone,” I hiss before he can say anything.

Azriel stiffens and Cassian steps closer to him. Rhysand clears his throat and speaks, “we need your help.”

“Whatever trivial matter you’ve gotten yourself tangled in isn’t any of my concern. You should’ve left me alone on that island.”

“You were stuck between…” Rhysand tries again but I interpret him.

“I may have been stuck between this life and the next but at least I wouldn’t have been mates with yet another male who just wants to use me.”

Azriel blinks slowly at me and his jaw tightens at my words. Cassian and Rhysand both draw in sharp breaths. They shoot confused glances to each other before Cassian grabs ahold of Azriel and attempts to drag him away.

Rhysand steps towards me, placing himself between me and his brothers. His voice is quiet and softer than I expected as he asks, “You have a second mate?”

I don’t answer but my fleeting glance to the silent male behind him is enough.

“Impossible,” he mumbles under his breath with a shake of his head. His piercing violet eyes find mine, searching my hallow ones. “That’s impossible.”

#azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #azriel spymaster #spymaster #limits of a fae heart az x reader

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throughstarlitfields · 4 months

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“𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨... 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧. 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐇𝐞'𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫—𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤.”

𝙰 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚢 𝚋𝚢 𝚂𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚑 𝙹. 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚜

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷𝟼

🎨: @rykyartofficial

Commissioned by me

𝙋𝙇𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙀 𝘿𝙊 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙍𝙀𝙋𝙊𝙎𝙏. 𝙊𝙉𝙇𝙔 𝙎𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙒𝙄𝙏𝙃 𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙋𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙍𝙀𝘿𝙄𝙏 𝙂𝙄𝙑𝙀𝙉.

#azriel #shadowsinger #spymaster #sarahjmass #sjm #acosf #acomaf #acowar #acotar #acofas

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 27 days

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Bluebird — Azriel x Reader — Part VIII

Hey! Sorry for the wait on this one, it’s a big one and took me longer than I anticipated! I haven’t had the chance to properly proofread so sorry for any mistakes! Hope you enjoy all the same 💕

Summary: Forced to go on the road with her father, Reader gets a rude awakening that starts to play on her mind. But Azriel’s not willing to let go so easily.

Click here to be added to the Bluebird taglist! Please remember to check your settings and make sure you can be tagged! 💕

Word count: 8.7k

Warnings: Pretty gruesome descriptions of violence and injury. Masturbation. Nsfw, 18+, minors dni!

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The curtains were drawn.

To superior fae sight, nothing lay behind them besides darkness. Not even the flickering of a candle.

Azriel waited. And waited, and waited. His eyes did not once stray from the window, and hope burned fierce in him that those curtains would suddenly part, that a beautiful human face would appear that made his heart race and his skin feel too taut on his bones.

The fabric didn’t even twitch.

He knew, after a couple of hours, that he would not be seeing his Bluebird tonight. He tried not to feel too disappointed as he flew back towards the wall, the comfort of the fae realm. Such was the nature of their…relationship. It was clandestine and risky, and sometimes things would come up. Sometimes, one or both of them would be unavailable.

But as he stripped off his leathers and fell into his huge bed, he couldn’t tear his thoughts from her. Thoughts of where she was, what she was doing, what had rendered her unavailable to meet — whether she was safe.

Too many thoughts like that would do him no good. Would only worsen this…this alien sensation, of needing her with him all the time. Needing to have her in sight. Needing to have her at all.

He could only pray to the Mother that the next week pedalled on fast.

That he’d see his Bluebird soon.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It had been the most uncomfortable day of your life.

A monotonous day on horseback, one landscape blurring into another. The village you were travelling to seemed like worlds away — and the journey was only made worse by the sticky summer heat, and the fact that you rode with Devin, slotted between the tight press of his muscled thighs.

Still, you were unflinching in your resolve that while you may not have been able to wriggle out of sharing a horse with him, you weren’t going to talk to him, no matter how much he tried to ply you with conversation.

It was his fault you had to come on this trip in the first damn place.

You tried your hardest to while away the time by sinking into your thoughts. It seemed that with each hour that passed, those thoughts became more vibrant, more longing. Thoughts of you, Azriel, a wildflower meadow. The ability to just…be in each other’s arms.

The ability to kiss him. Touch him.

Those thoughts didn’t help at all. It was an effort to keep them at bay, lest you make the ride even more uncomfortable.

But eventually — thankfully — you and your father’s group had arrived in the target village, just as the sun had been setting. News of your father’s cause had spread wide enough that it seemed his presence was expected. And very much welcomed.

You’d been ushered into the village tavern and supplied with more food and drinks than any of you needed. The feast kept you occupied while your father was absent awhile, apparently visiting a few villagers he was familiar with. And when he’d returned, it was there, that evening, nestled at the very back of the old, crumbling building, that you’d watched your his passionate presentation.

You’d heard the words spoken numerous times, of course. To his friends, and to anyone at the Bluebird Inn who would listen. But this was more than just a speech. This was an entire damn performance.

And it surprised you, how uncomfortable it made you to watch.

For all your father was quiet, brooding, sometimes soft-spoken, he commanded the tavern with a voice louder than you’d ever heard come out of him. His cheeks had grown ruddier as his own words riled him up. Spittle accompanied the angered, venomous words that left his mouth.

And it was all you could do to watch, your dinner feeling leaden in your stomach as you listened to the words — listened to him reel off a list of people he, personally, had met, who had suffered at the hands of the fae. As he told the story of your mother’s brutal death, and the details formed a lump in your throat, never lessening in impact. As he presented his ideas, his plans, in a way that was so refined, so expert, that it almost had you considering that they were the best course of action.

But you knew Azriel. You knew Azriel. These faeries that your father raged about were not his brethren. Azriel himself would abhor their actions.

You repeated that to yourself in your head, like a chant. Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.

Two whole hours, you had to sit there and listen to your father talk about frightening creatures who stole babies from their bassinets, who brutalised young girls, who tore families apart. Two whole hours, and your muscles were stiff and aching. Your head throbbing. Your body and mind desperate for the oblivion of sleep. A respite away from the pang in your gut.

Azriel was not like them. Azriel was good. Azriel cared for you.

The sight of your father and his men traipsing around the room with rolls of parchment and gathering signatures was a relief — only because you knew this would soon be over.

You sighed softly to yourself, slumping back in your chair and absentmindedly rubbing a hand over your stomach. As though it would somehow ease the complicated feelings that twisted it so violently.

“Impactful.” The chair beside you was pulled out, and Devin lowered himself into it. “Don’t you think?”

You gave the slightest dip of your chin. Couldn’t deny that your father had a way with words.

Devin pursed his lips, his eyes skating over you. “We have a long ride home, Y/N. Are you going to ignore me the whole way back, too?”

“Yes,” you hissed. “Because you had no right to talk to my father on my behalf.”

He folded his arms, appearing unflinching and unbothered by what he’d done. You may have thought he was in the wrong, but he certainly didn’t.

“I did so out of concern for you,” he replied. “Because what you said about the fae was wrong. None of them are good. The sooner you see that, the better.”

You bit inside of your cheek, simply to prevent yourself from arguing. But gods, you wanted to contest the statement. You wished you could tell him that you had cold, hard, beautiful evidence that he was wrong.

But doing so would only make things worse for you.

So you merely folded your own arms, and focused your gaze on the men weaving in and out of tables, gathering signatures, clapping supporters on the back and parting with well wishes. You stared and stared until the sight of them blurred.

And then Devin said, “You haven’t been yourself recently.”

You whipped your head around to look at him — gape at him. “You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“I know you were acting shifty as fuck the night I came to check on you during the Summer Festival. You couldn’t get rid of me quick enough. I’d be forgiven for thinking you had someone there with you.”

“Who would I possibly have at my house?” you narrowed your eyes. “I’m not allowed to make friends, to form connections.”

His gaze softened. “I’m your friend.”

It wasn’t that long ago that you’d fantasised about him being more than that. He’d seemed so incredible, so gallant — a young man who could sweep you off your feet, and protect you while he guarded an entire village. You’d wondered if there was ever any likelihood of him being drawn to you, instead of one of the many other beautiful girls within proximity. You’d wanted to impress him.

Now, you just wanted him out of your fucking sight before you said something that would land you in more shit.

“You—”

The tavern’s front door flung open, hard enough to slam against the wall, abruptly severing your sentence.

All fell still and silent as every face looked up to take in the man who entered. Hair ripped from the knot at the back of his neck, and he was drenched in sweat, clothes rumpled and—

And saturated with blood.

There was a beat, and then everyone who crowded the small space appeared to collectively clock what they were seeing. A wave of gasps rippled through the room like a breeze.

“I—” the man’s eyes immediately landed on your father, as though it were him he searched for. “I tried to do something, but I was too late. I couldn’t—”

“What has happened?” Your father strode forward.

“I was too late,” he repeated. “I…I think you need to see this.”

Just like that, every member of your group was readying themselves to leave — to throw themselves straight into the unknown. Devin, too, rose.

But your father was wrenching round to face them, shaking his head. “I’ll take only a couple of you with me. The rest of you should stay here until I send word,” he angled himself towards your table. “Devin, Y/N — you’ll join me.”

“Me?” Your eyes widened. Granted, you didn’t know what, exactly, you’d be facing, but one look at the blood-drenched man at the entrance told you it was bad. You didn’t know nearly enough about fighting, or defending, or healing—

“Yes.” Your father’s tone brooked no room for argument. “You.”

There was no chance to protest as you were yanked out of your seat by Devin and pulled along with him while your father headed out of the door. Your heart raced in your chest as Devin helped you up onto his horse, and you were lurched into action.

All you could think was that you wished — so badly wished — to be back in the safety of the Bluebird Inn. And Azriel’s arms.

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You didn’t travel far. A few dirty, dusty roads brought you straight to a house that was mostly unassuming, no different to the houses in your village.

But the similarities stopped at the first scream that ripped through the night and had you violently flinching, had the horses panicking.

Devin dismounted with ease and promptly lifted you off, setting you on your feet at the exact same moment another scream sounded, thinning out into a strangled sob.

“Come.” Your father beckoned to you as Devin made quick work of tying the horses up.

But you couldn’t get your feet to move. You stayed firmly rooted to the spot as you shook your head. “I can’t go in there.”

“You can and you will,” he beckoned again. “Don’t let me down.”

With him in front of you and Devin now at your back, you felt you had no choice but to follow. The man that had burst into the tavern held the front door open, increasing the volume of what now seemed to be wailing sobs.

“I’ve heard of your cause,” he said quietly as your father stepped in first. “Which is why I think you should see this. So you can report back firsthand to the Queens.”

The entryway was just light enough to catch the incline of your father’s head. He said nothing as you were led through—

You stopped dead in the doorway of what seemed to be a dining room. So abruptly that Devin’s front collided with your back.

“Her name is — was — Dahlia.” The man inched towards the table, balling his fists at his sides. “She was only fourteen years old.”

“What happened?” Those two little words came from you — and you didn’t even realise it.

Because lying motionless on the table was the body of a young girl — from what you could make out beneath the injuries that covered her skin, anyway.

Her pallor was such a deathly white that you knew she was long gone. Her clothes were dirty, ripped…by what looked like claws. Chunks of flesh had been gouged out, her throat cut—

Your ears were ringing too loudly for you to think. But as your heart beat at a gallop, another cry rent the air, stealing your attention to the corner of the room.

“This is Marin,” the man breathed, moving closer to the woman who sat curled up and distraught in the corner. “Dahlia’s mother. She saw the attack with her own eyes.”

“Oh, gods,” you whispered. Devin’s hand landed on your shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.

Your father took slow, careful footsteps towards the grieving mother. And the softness with which he knelt before her, laying a tentative hand atop of hers…it had your eyes stinging.

“My name is Marschal,” he introduced himself quietly. “I’m so sorry for what those monsters have taken from you. Your beautiful daughter is safe in the Beyond now. The fae can hurt her no more.”

Another soft cry shuddered out of Marin. But she nodded her head and answered, her voice watery, “I know who you are. What…what you do.”

“Then you’ll know why I’ve been brought here. What happened…it’s something I believe our queens should know about,” he paused. “If you’re able, I’d like to know exactly what it was you witnessed. As much as you can manage, of course.”

The request almost made you flinch. It seemed callous, somehow, when her child’s body was still right there on the table and hadn’t yet been sent back to the earth. But after a beat of Marin staring at your father through her tear-filled eyes, she offered the slightest dip of her chin.

“I…” Her voice wobbled. “I’ll try.”

“Devin,” your father murmured over his shoulder. “Fetch her a drink to steady her nerves.”

You were jostled ever so slightly forward as Devin slipped past you — too close to Dahlia’s poor, broken body than you could handle. You turned away, your feet numbly carrying you to Marin’s side. You took her hand into your own, and she didn’t object to the comfort.

In fact, her voice was a little steadier as she said, “It was just me and my Dahlia.” She inhaled slowly through her nose, steeling herself. Her eyes fluttered shut for the briefest second before they opened again. “We were returning home from visiting my sister in another village. It was such a nice night that we decided not to spend coin on transport. The walk was a bit lengthy, but we’d made it before. We knew which way to go.”

The story was momentarily interrupted by Devin re-entering the room and handing a glass of amber liquid to Marin. Her free hand trembled as she took it and lifted it to her lips. Beads of dark liquid coloured her pale lips as she swallowed it down and continued.

“Only, Dahlia insisted on cutting through a forest to look at some plants,” she whispered. “She’s into botany, you see — she was into botany.” A fresh wave of shuddering sobs threatened to overpower her, but somehow, she found the strength to tamp down on them. “So we went into the forest, but Dahlia, she…she had a habit of wandering off, and I got separated from her. It wasn’t for long. But when I found her again, she was with a man.”

Your father repeatedly softly, “A man?”

“I knew at once that it was a faerie. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. And Dahlia thought so, too. He was talking to her, and she had this glazed look in her eyes like she was somewhere else. He offered her his hand, and she took it. I knew in my bones that he was going to take her away from me, so I stepped forward, announced myself. I told Dahlia to come, that we were going home. The man answered for her in a voice like music.”

“What did he say?” you rasped.

“He said — he said that Dahlia would make a pretty wife for a faerie. That faerie men liked human brides. He said that she was coming back with him, across the wall. He asked her if she wanted to do that, and she said yes. I think he had her under some sort of spell. I could tell that it wasn’t my Dahlia talking. And I panicked. I stepped forward to grab her out of his arms, and he attacked. Immediately. It was all so quick, I couldn’t register what he was doing. But then he was disappearing before my eyes, and Dahlia was crumpling to the floor, and I knew…I could see she was gone.”

A keening, horrendous wail left her, and she was curling herself up so tightly — like she was trying to hold herself together. It was all you could do to grip onto her hand as she rocked back and forth and cried over and over and over, my Dahlia, my Dahlia, my Dahlia.

You waited for your father to say something else — to come up with an answer as to what might ease her suffering, if anything at all could.

But it was Devin who lowered himself to one knee before her. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his face gentle, open.

“Madam, the last thing I wish to do is cause you any more distress at such an awful time.” He spoke in the calm, sure way that all village guards did. “But I am a guard of the village from which my companions and I hail. Our girls have been suffering attacks at the hands of the fae, also. If, perhaps, you could describe the faerie you saw…who hurt your child…”

“He was beautiful, as I said,” Marin snivelled. “So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him. Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. That beauty made him easy for Dahlia to trust. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.”

“Their beauty,” your father supplied sympathetically, “is a calculated part of their thrall. Do not blame yourself nor your daughter for being allured by it. The fae know what they are doing.”

You did not hear whether the reassurance brought Marin any comfort. You didn’t catch what Devin then said to her, despite you looking right at him, watching his lips move.

Your mind was roaring, ears screaming. You felt…panic.

Their beauty is a calculated part of their thrall.

The fae know what they are doing.

So beautiful, it almost hurt to look at him.

Dark hair and golden-brown skin. Eyes that seemed to glow. He seemed kind. His voice was just as stunning as he was.

Faerie men like human brides.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

Was it so easy to be lured by the mere beauty of the fae?

Was that what Azriel had done to you?

Dahlia’s attacker had seemed nice to her…just as Azriel seemed nice to you.

And Dahlia was now lying lifeless and brutalised just inches away. Allured by a beautiful faerie. Like the other village girls. Like your mother. Like you—

You launched up, nausea turning your stomach. This was too much. If all fae were the same…if all of them were capable of this…

“What is it?” Devin asked. Your father didn’t speak; merely stared at you with an indiscernible expression.

“I need some fresh air, I’m sorry.” Feeling as though you were gasping for breath, you pushed through them, stumbled clumsily past Dahlia’s body and out of the room before they could stop you. You focused on forcing your legs forward, finding your way out of the house. Balmy summer air coaxed you towards it and had you practically falling out of the door.

What had you been thinking, having regular, secret meetings with a faerie who could tear you apart with his bare hands? Inviting him into your village, your home? Allowing yourself to think that he was somehow different? Finding ways to justify your involvement with him?

Azriel may not have been responsible for the attacks himself, but his kind were. You didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he was capable of. For all you were aware, your warming to him had been carefully manipulated by him, by magic. For all you were aware, he could have an extensive list of human girls that he’d softened and lured. He could be using you for something.

You didn’t want to think about what. Didn’t want to know.

What you did know was that you couldn’t see him anymore. Dahlia was some sort of sign that your dealings with the fae had to stop. What you had with Azriel needed to stop—

“It hits a little close to home, doesn’t it?” Your father’s soft voice reached you from the doorway. Amidst your reeling thoughts, you hadn’t heard him follow you out.

You sucked in a huge gulp of fresh air and pivoted to face him. “It does,” you agreed. “I’m sorry if I disappointed you by running out of there.”

He shook his head, took a step closer. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I felt it was necessary for you to see just what a single faerie was capable of. That doesn’t mean I expect you to be unfeeling and unaffected. That sight in there is…it’s terrifying. And gods, if it were you lying on that table—” he cut himself off, swallowing hard. It was a rare thing for him to share such sentiments with you. That was as close as he’d allow himself to get.

So you nodded, letting him know that you got it. He was terrified of you meeting the same fate that poor Dahlia had.

The moment hung between you, thick as the sticky night air. And then you were taking the plunge and asking the question that lived somewhere deep and heavy inside you, trying to claw its way out.

“Was it like that when Mama was attacked?” you studied your father, waiting for him to flinch, grimace, something. “When she was attacked by a faerie, did she…did she look much like Dahlia does?”

A gruesome question, and perhaps an unfair one.

But for the first time in your life, you needed to know — the gory details. How bad it had been.

Your father pursed his lips, staring back at you. For a moment, you thought he might not answer.

But then he shook his head. Shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked…vulnerable.

“No,” he answered, his voice laced with something you couldn’t grasp. “No. There was far less left of your mother after her attack. Nothing of the woman I had loved.”

Before you could answer, he turned and trudged back inside.

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Three weeks in a row.

Three weeks in a damn row, the curtains had remained shut at Y/N’s bedroom window.

Azriel thought his need to see her was starting to eat him alive.

But gods, he missed her. He missed her curiosity, that she did not seem to fear him. Missed that he could lose hours talking to her about everything and nothing. Missed her scent, the taste and feel of her lips—

He heaved a sigh, sprawling back in his bed and running a hand over the panes of his bare stomach. His blood thudded and thrummed in his veins. Burned too hot.

He knew, at least, that she was well, only from the rare glances he caught of her from the sky above the village. Seeing her and not being able to swoop down and speak to her was a whole torture of its own. But if the curtains were closed, that meant it wasn’t safe. The last thing he wanted was to get her into trouble.

Still, that didn’t stop his bones from feeling too hot with need, his heart too heavy—

Another quiet sight escaped him, the pads of his fingers stroking absentmindedly over his abdomen. It felt entirely out his control that his thoughts quickly ventured down the same avenue they’d been walking for three weeks, now. Yet again recalling that conversation he and Y/N had had when he’d last been with her. The broadened confidence that had lain within her actions.

She’d asked him about lovers. She’d kissed him deeply, yearningly, and had he not stopped her, she would have taken it further. He knew she would have — knew it from the way her scent had changed.

Gods, that scent. He was sure it had followed him everywhere these past weeks. It would drive him mad yet. The scent of fresh summer air and sweet, ripe apples. It was perfect, and mouthwatering, and Cauldron boil him, Azriel wanted more. A touch. A taste—

A low noise rumbled in his chest as his cock instantly hardened. This was why it was best to keep his mind occupied. Because as time went on, so too did his growing, strengthening, snowballing attraction for the human woman.

She was likely unaware of what affect she truly had on him.

With only the covers draped over his naked body, the light brush of the fabric against his hardened length was too much. He kicked them away, glancing down at his body’s reaction to the mere thought of Y/N. Nothing to do with him not having had sex for a while now.

All to do with the fact that he wanted Y/N. Badly.

He wrapped a hand around his cock, releasing a hushed moan at the touch. And as his thumb mopped up the precum at the head, and he began to pump slowly, languidly, he closed his eyes and imagined it was her hand that touched him.

That mental image threw the unhurried pace straight out of the window. Fantasies swarmed him as he writhed on the mattress and bit down on his husky, growling moans. Thoughts of Y/N stroking and squeezing and licking him, of her guiding him through his pleasure with filthy words and promises. Watching his length disappear between those perfect, full lips—

A shout shuddered out of him that he was too slow to suppress, his chest heaving as he emptied his cock onto his stomach. The pleasure was too much. He couldn’t think around it, couldn’t see anything but the stars that burst in his vision.

He didn’t know when he’d last cum so fast, so hard.

But somehow, he did know that no other woman, female, whatever, would ever be enough again. Only Y/N. He wanted Y/N.

He needed to find a way to see her.

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Resolving to have nothing more to do with Azriel did not, unfortunately, banish thoughts of him. Nor did it banish the feeling of missing him, missing what you’d grown comfortable with.

It was hard to go from looking forward to weekly rendezvous to just…nothing. No social interaction, besides what you got from behind the bar of the inn. No personal connections.

It was for the best, you told yourself. In the three weeks since you’d been on the road with your father and his men, those images of Dahlia’s broken body had not left your mind. They haunted you as thoroughly as the sounds of Marin’s cries and wails. As thoroughly as those words she’d spoken.

The most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

Azriel was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. And while he may not have been responsible for Dahlia’s attack, or the attacks on the girls in your village…that didn’t mean he wasn’t capable.

The fae were a violent people. There was no getting around that. And you…you could not take that risk. No matter how much your heart yearned to do so, just to feel the touch of Azriel’s hands and hear the smooth lilt of his voice.

He was fae. You were human. It could never work.

So you kept your curtains closed, and you kept yourself busy. You knew Azriel must have wondered what was going on, why you’d been unavailable three weeks in a row. Soon enough, you told yourself, he was bound to get bored and seek connection with somebody else, and your brief brush with the fae would become a bizarre, distant memory.

You hoped.

Perhaps if you chanted it to yourself enough, it would come true.

But gods, you’d become so comfortable with him. Had found what felt like a real, genuine bond with somebody, like nothing you’d been able to experience before. It was no easy thing to return to loneliness, just you and the inn and your piano. Everything was suddenly too dull, too quiet.

At least your father hadn’t asked you to come on the road with him again.

His trips were getting longer, the further he ventured. Two days had stretched to four. You were more alone than ever.

Tonight, when the last of your customers had filed through the door, you were not in the mood to play piano, nor to read a book. Your frame of mind was a tricky one. You felt…restless and misplaced. Tired in your bones and yet wide awake and longing.

You tossed and you turned, kicking your sheets, writhing against your mattress until you were sticky with sweat. You wanted to pull back the curtains and wrench open the window, but…not at this hour. Not while Azriel might still be circling above, searching to see if you were available.

So in the dark, you let the hours tick by, waited for sleep to find you or…some semblance of peace. You listened to each chime of the village’s clock tower, making you aware of every hour you’d lain awake; one o’clock, two o’clock, three o’clock. No passing time made a difference. Restlessness still commanded your body until finally, you’d had enough.

It was nearing four o’clock by the time you threw your sheets off you and stormed out of your bed, exasperated and fed up — by your constant thoughts that would not leave you alone, and how they seemed to control everything. What were you to do without the few hours of oblivion that sleep afforded you?

Was even this some power of the fae…to command your mind and drive you mad with sleeplessness and restlessness until you were losing yourself entirely, becoming an empty shell who lived only to harbour feelings for an ethereal being who saw you as some sort of toy? Was your longing even real, or just the product of magic?

You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

Though still very much night, the darkness had lifted just slightly over the village with another summer morning rapidly approaching. Birds were beginning to wake and sing their songs. It wouldn’t be too long before the milkman ventured through the village with his wagon, leaving bottles at the residents’ doors.

If Azriel had tried to visit, he certainly wouldn’t be around any longer — not with the world waking up.

So you resigned yourself to the fact that you wouldn’t be sleeping. You threw a robe over your nightgown and trudged down the stairs, irritated and ill at ease. You headed straight for the back door, to your small yard that was just as grey and dull as everything else. At least the air would be fresh. Somewhat.

Though tinged with the smells of the countryside, it was nice to feel it wash over you. Cool, in the absence of the sun, and yet not cold. You slumped down onto the wooden bench against the wall and rested your head back, closing your eyes.

How, you wondered, had you been foolish enough to land yourself in such a predicament? How had you gone from being some human, village nobody, to brushing arms with the very beings you’d been raised to despise? It had to be magic that had weaved its way into your mind. Perhaps Azriel hadn’t meant to bewitch you, but he had. Perhaps it was some natural facet of his kind that he had no control over, that you’d fallen victim to. You’d heard stories of the kinds of fae who were love talkers — Gancanagh — whose sole magic was to pour sweetened words into women’s ears and so thoroughly seduce them until they were nothing more than their feelings. Could that be what Azriel was? Could he have—

A thud ripped you from your thoughts so abruptly that you jolted, your eyes flying open.

Just in time to see Azriel jump down from the opposite wall, feet landing smoothly on the cracked concrete ground of the yard.

You stared at him, knocked speechless, for a moment, by the mere sight of him. You couldn’t deny that you’d missed gazing upon his brilliance. The dark leathers and flawless appearance. The shadows.

But you quickly yanked yourself out of it, shaking your head. You would not be bewitched or love-talked or…whatever. Not again.

“It’s so good to see you,” Azriel breathed, cleaving the silence.

But you were up on your feet, still shaking your head, suddenly cold all over. “You can’t be here.”

“I checked the village before I came down,” he stepped closer. “All is fine—”

“No,” you interrupted. “You need to leave.”

He paused, seeming to take his time studying you. His brow furrowed at your guardedness, the way you crossed your arms over your chest and eyed the distance between yourself and the door.

“I don’t understand…” he murmured, taking a step closer. “Where have you been? What’s happened?”

The backs of your legs hit the bench in your attempt to back up. “None of that matters. You just need to stay away from me. Leave, and don’t come back.”

Surprise seemed to steal him so suddenly that it gave you an opening the move. You made to cross your way back to the door, to get yourself inside. Locks were no use against his ability to winnow, but at least you could find a weapon in there, should you need it.

But Azriel was stepping closer just as fast, his warm hand closing around your elbow in a gentle yet firm touch. Gods, you’d missed that touch—

“Don’t,” you snapped, recoiling. “Do not touch me—”

“Y/N, just look at me. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on.”

“Why?” Pivoting to face him didn’t ease his grip even a little. “So you can charm me into believing you’re not dangerous?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked, his eyes blazing. “I never claimed not to be dangerous. But I am not a danger to you.”

A brusque, almost hysterical laugh broke from you. “Resorting to faerie riddles? How convenient—”

“Y/N—”

“Let me go.”

This time, when you yanked your arm back, his hand fell. You didn’t wait around to see his reaction as you darted through the door and slammed it shut, locking it with trembling hands.

But when you turned, he was right there in front of you, in your fucking house. You backed yourself up against the door to stop your body colliding with his.

“Get out,” you breathed. “I mean it. Get away from me.”

Slowly, he rose his hands in a placating manner. There was pleading in his tone as he carefully bit out, “I just want to talk to you. Please. Tell me what I’ve done.”

You stared at him, pressing your palms flat against the door. It hurt so, so badly that you wanted to hear him out. Wanted to wipe that crestfallen, devastated expression from his face and hold his hand and talk to him and kiss him—

No, no, no. You shook your head, shook the thoughts away. Azriel watched with wide eyes.

“I am not a danger to you,” he said again, slowly lowering his hands. “But if that’s what you’re worried about…” smooth as a damn waltz, he unsheathed a blade, sharp enough to slice through the sky itself. He gripped the hilt, holding the beautiful weapon out to you. “Take this. It is the only thing I am currently armed with, and if at any point you feel in danger, you have my permission to stab me with it. I just want to talk.”

Your gaze flicked between the blade and his face, unsure and upset. Upset, because you knew that the longer you spent in his presence, spent listening to his voice, the harder it would be to remember the driving force behind your hostility. The harder it would be to convince him to leave and never return.

But perhaps the key to that was not being hostile towards him, but rather, making him hostile towards you. That would be easier. You had never been completely honest with him — about who your father was. Maybe fessing up to the fact that you’d joined him in his campaign would be enough to anger Azriel into leaving.

You jerked your chin at the blade, squaring your shoulders. “Place it on the floor and step away.”

He didn’t hesitate. A shadow snaked out, coiling around the dagger and easing it to the floor with barely a noise. And then Azriel stepped back, and back, and back. Until he was pressed against the wall opposite you.

He didn’t move an inch as you reached for the knife and took it into your hand. The feel of it was weighty and foreign — and beautiful.

“I just want to talk to you,” Azriel said again, his voice gritty. “Tell me what happened. Tell me what…what’s changed.”

You met his eyes, squaring your shoulders as you admitted, “I wasn’t completely honest with you.”

His face showed no reaction. He didn’t even stir. Just stared back at you and spoke clearly, carefully. “Alright. Talk me through that.”

“We once discussed a band of humans who are raising a cause against the fae. Do you remember?”

“I do.”

“I never told you that it is my father who set up the cause. He is the one behind the campaigns. He is the one who takes his men village to village and spreads word of the evil deeds of the fae. He’s behind it all.”

A heavy silence filled the space between you. Azriel stared at you, his expression unreadable. This was the moment he would curse you for keeping the truth from him. The moment he would leave and never look back.

Except, all he did was nod his head once. Like you’d merely offered him a droll comment about the weather.

“Do you not understand what I’m telling you?” you pushed. “I sat up on that hill with you and discussed the matter when I knew the entire time who you were talking about. What they were doing. I deceived you. Kept it from you.”

“There are things you don’t know about me, too,” he answered quietly. “Things that I, for certain reasons, have not told you yet. I would be foolish to assume the same wouldn’t be the case for you,” he stared at you, head-on. Unflinching. “I know better than anybody, Y/N, that you cannot help who or what you come from. I won’t judge you for it, just as I’ve asked you not to judge me.”

Gods, he was so damn reasonable. So much more…worldly and mature, than the human men you knew in the village.

Then again, Azriel had centuries of life on them.

“I’m not angry that you didn’t tell me,” he studied you. “I can understand why you’d be cautious—”

“My father took me on his campaign three weeks ago. Took me on the road with him and his men.”

It was that which seemed to really stop Azriel in his tracks. Something — the slightest thing, a tiny reaction — flared in his eyes. You weren’t sure what it was.

Good. This was good. Maybe now he would get the point, that you and he needed to stop seeing each other.

“Night after night, I sat and listened to what my father had to say. To what he knows,” your hand gripped hard at the knife’s hilt, like it was the only thing grounding you and making you able to speak. “None of it was stuff I hadn’t heard before. I even resented listening to it. I curled myself up in a corner and repeated to myself over and over that whatever was being said, you were not like that. You were not the kind of fae of which my father spoke.”

Azriel’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I am not. Just as I told you.”

“I found it frustrating to hear him tarnish all of your people with the same stories when you had proved to me otherwise. That some fae could be good. That I had been ignorant. And then,” a short laugh rasped out of you, “and then, as if the universe was trying to send me some sort of message, a man came looking for us and said we needed to accompany him somewhere. And we did. My father, a member of his group, and myself. We followed this man to a house in that village, and I knew it was bad from the other end of the street. I could hear the cries coming from within that house, the wailing.”

That information was met with a wall of silence — as though Azriel was biting back his words and waiting for you to finish your story before he would deign to speak. Even if the rigid set of his shoulders told you he desperately wanted to do otherwise.

“There was a girl’s body in that house.” Merely recalling the image of Dahlia had a lump rising in your throat. You silently begged your eyes not to tear up. “The body of a fourteen-year-old girl. A child. A fae male had attacked her, and her poor mother had seen the entire thing.”

Azriel swallowed. “That’s awful—”

“She told us exactly what she saw. Described the faerie to us. How he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen, with dark eyes and golden skin and such a charming demeanour. How her daughter hadn’t stood a chance, because he was already weaving his way into her mind and appealing himself to her. Making her think that he was no threat. Because his beauty, his allure, was above anything else.”

“And…what are you saying?” Azriel asked bleakly. “That you think it was I who attacked that girl—?”

“No, but it was a faerie! It’s always the fucking fae!”

The words left you so angrily, so loudly, that you realised you’d been waiting for someone to yell them at. That they burned inside you, and they hurt. You felt…foolish. Betrayed.

And Azriel appeared to read all of that on your face. He swallowed again, hard, balling his fists at his sides like it took everything in his power to hold himself back and not approach you.

“I never once denied that faeries are capable of such atrocities,” he stared at you. “Not once. I simply asked you to acknowledge that there is good and bad in all people, whatever we are. It’s not as black and white as the fae just being bad.”

“And yet,” your voice was cold, “I haven’t been presented with anything to say otherwise.”

That might have been a low blow. You were guessing it was, from the way Azriel physically flinched, before schooling his features.

Because he…he was evidence of good, wasn’t he? He certainly had been, before the situation with poor Dahlia. He’d shown you that he was tender and soft, patient and kind. It had been enough for a while.

But you had more or less just said that it had never been enough at all. And that seemed to bother him more than anything else.

“You and I are worlds apart,” you added, sounding weaker. “Whatever or whoever you are…we simply have no business getting involved with one another.”

“That’s bullshit.” In a flash, Azriel was pushing off the wall. He strode forward a couple of steps, before thinking better of it and stopping in his tracks. Ferocity turned his golden skin a ruddy hue. “I don’t care what sides of the wall either of us fall on. What matters is that I feel right around you. I feel alive because of you. If we have no business getting involved, tell me why I cannot sleep for having constant thoughts about you. Tell me why you have consumed me as though you have bewitched me.”

You blinked, almost — almost — wanting to laugh. The description was one you absolutely had fitted to him. To consider that he’d come to the same conclusion about you—

“I swear to you that I have never used any sort of faerie sway to appeal myself to you,” he continued. “What we feel for one another is genuine. I keep coming back to you because I ache for you. And I don’t judge you one bit for thinking badly of my kind — especially after what you saw on your father’s trip. It’s awful, and I abhor what was done to that girl. But I beg of you, Y/N — please. Do not paint me in the same light.”

Each word pelted you like hailstones, the impact of them sending a shiver coursing down your spine. So quickly, your body wanted to falter, to fold, to go marching over to him. It took every shred of effort to stand your ground and grip onto the knife as though your life depended on it.

“I’m not trying to invalidate what you’ve seen, what you’ve experienced.” Azriel took another slight step forward. “I would never. I just…I ask you to give me one more chance to prove that there is another side to the coin. That good can exist as well as bad.”

You pointed the blade towards him, stopping him in his tracks. But you lifted your chin as you asked, “How? How would you prove that? I don’t want any faerie trickery.”

“And there would be none. I want to show you…for you to see with your own eyes…”

“…see what?”

“The good that I know. The good that I live amongst.” Pleading lay within his eyes. “Just give me one more night. One more night of your time to take you into my world. To show you more of myself. And if you still want nothing more to do with me…” Slowly, he shook his head, as though he could hardly bear the thought. “Then I will find a way to accept it, and you will never have to see me again.”

You shook — trembled — with the effort to rein yourself in. You didn’t understand this carnal…thing, deep inside you, that was drawing you to him. Like a thread in your body, connected to one in his, begging you to close the gap and go to him.

You rocked on your feet, eyeing him with none of the anger you’d felt moments before, and all of the caution at how he so often made you feel. Like you wanted to be in front of him. To touch him.

“I don’t…understand what you’re suggesting,” you said slowly.

Azriel took a single, tiny step closer. You didn’t stop him. “Let me take you across The Wall for one night. A few hours, if that’s all you’re willing to give. To my city, my home. Let me introduce you to my family. To everyone and everything that reminds me how much good exists amongst my kind, even when I sometimes doubt it myself.”

“Across The Wall—?”

“It would be entirely safe.” Another step, closing that gap between you. “I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you. And if we get there and you don’t even want to talk to me, you don’t have to. I just…I just want you to see. You deserve to see the good.”

So many feelings warred inside you at once. Intrigue, curiosity, fear — such raging fear. Excitement. Maybe…maybe a little bit of hope.

Hope that you could still be proved wrong. Because you still wanted to be proved wrong.

You didn’t want to let Azriel go.

Swallowing hard, your eyes shuttered. What he was asking of you was huge, and that wasn’t even considering the logistics of how you would do it. “I don’t…know if I could.”

With another step, Azriel was close enough to touch. The familiar scent of him was almost enough, alone, for you to fold. The hand that held the blade lowered entirely without your willing.

“Why don’t you take the day to think about it?” Hazel eyes were a long-awaited caress against your face. “Your father is away for another night yet, isn’t he?”

Your gaze clashed with his abruptly. “How do you know that?”

Quickly, he held his hands up. “Just going by the pattern of his previous trips, that’s all. He doesn’t usually return until the weekend.”

Right. Perhaps you were being a little bit paranoid. You forced yourself to relax a little.

“Yes,” you concurred. “He’s away for another night.”

Azriel’s chin dipped. “So…how about this? You take the day to think my offer over. If you decide you want to accept and come with me, I’ll be waiting for you above. At midnight, on the dot. If you decide you don’t, and you do not want anything else to do with me…well, like I said, I’ll find a way to accept it somehow.”

You knew your resolve was already slipping, leaning more towards what felt right, rather than…that what you’d been raised to believe was right.

And it wasn’t as though it was an unreasonable offer. You believed that Azriel could keep you safe either side of The Wall. Your wellbeing wasn’t what concerned you in the slightest.

You supposed that it was that if you were to go along with this…there would likely be no turning back. You’d so far merely dipped your toe into the world of the fae.

Crossing The Wall would be like submerging yourself in it.

“Take the day to think about it,” Azriel said again, studying you closely. “All I ask is that you do think about it…properly. Don’t just…don’t just write me off. Please, Y/N. I couldn’t bear it.”

Something in his voice smothered that last shred of doubt that tried to hold you back. Your own voice was quiet as you replied, “Alright. I’ll think about it.”

In front of you, his shoulders seemed to slump with something like relief. Pleading still lay within his eyes. You weren’t sure, in that moment, if you could handle staring back at it.

So you instead held the knife out to him, ripping your gaze away. “You can have this back.”

“Don’t want to stab me?” he said, and your lips threatened to quirk up. You forced the smile away as he took the weapon back and sheathed it.

“I’ve yet to decide. I’ll spend the day contemplating that, too.”

So easy, to fall back into the natural rapport you had with him. Azriel didn’t bother to bite down on his smile.

But the smile then faltered, and worry clouded his eyes. “I really do hope you’ll give me another chance.”

“Why?” you blurted. “Why me?”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. And then he stepped away from you. Something in his stance told you he was readying himself to disappear.

“I’ll tell you why, if you come across the wall with me,” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “I want to be transparent with you. But I have to protect my heart, too.”

“You—”

“Just think on it,” he spoke softer, gentler. “And get some sleep, Y/N.”

Before you could respond, a breeze rippled through the room, tinged with the smells of winter.

And just like that, you were alone.

✧: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

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sclfmastery · 2 months

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has this been done yet lol

#sacha dhawan #Dhawan Master #the Master #spymaster #Doctor Who

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thelov3lybookworm · 9 months

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I Didn't Ask For This (part one)

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: yeah soo... I think I have some kind of obsession with this trope. And I have never ever seen any azriel x reader forced marriage fics, so I decided to write one myself. But I could be wrong and there are fics out there that I haven't seen, in which case, please let me know about them. (Also, because we do not know who azzie's father was and if he was a camp Lord, for the sake of this fic, lets pretend that he was, indeed, a camp lord.)

Tw: Forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so please let me know if I need to add anything.

•○🌑○•

Y/n poured the imaginary tea in the cups set on the low table in front of her, talking to Mister Fluffkins about the weather. He was her daughter's husband, or she pretended that he was. Her daughter, Alisa, was her favourite doll, who was going to be married today.

"I hope there was no troubles while on the way here?" She asked as she set down the teacup and turned towards her other toys.

Before Mister Fluffkins could answer though, Y/n's mother walked in, crouching in front of Y/n, smiling.

"What are you doing?"

"I was just asking Mister Fluffkins about his travels today. Do you want some tea?"

"No dear. I just wanted to tell you that a friend of father is coming here today with his son. I want you to try and become his friend, as he has none. Okay?"

"Okay mother." The little girl turned away and settled down opposite her to be son in law, sipping her imaginary tea. Excited that she'll be making a new friend today. Maybe he can play with her. He could be Alisa's father, and they would be one big and happy family.

As little Y/n was busy musing about her new friend, she lost track of time, and soon they had arrived. The door opened once again and her mother stepped inside, Y/n stood. A small boy, probably her age or older, stepped in behind her, his hands clasped together nervously. His eyes flitted around the room, his hair dishevelled and messy. He looked too thin to be healthy.

Y/n mother nudged him forward, and he hesitantly took a step forward. Then another and another.

"I'm Y/n. What is your name?" She asked when he was standing in front of her.

"Az– Azriel."

"Let's be friends." She said, before practically shoving him in the chair next to Mister Fluffkins and pouring him some tea. "It's tea. Drink, you'll like it."

He blinked. "There's nothing there."

"Obviously. We're playing, I can't use real tea."

Her mother had laughed, walking away. It took some time for Azriel to get accustomed to playing with her, but when he did, he enjoyed it, cherishing this rare moment of happiness. And though he was quite odd, saying he had never played anything in his life, Y/n didn't mind.

But then both of their father's stepped in, as if in a hurry. Azriel's father yelled at him to be quick and clasp her hand, and Y/n decided she didn't like this man. He was too loud.

Y/n's father was looking sadly at her when the bad man told him to make haste. They made Y/n and Azriel hold hands, guiding them through it.

"Listen girl, I want you to say I agree to everything he says, understand?" Y/n nodded, afraid of his father. "Now," he began saying to Azriel, "repeat after me. I will marry you, when I see you after we come of age. Say it." Azriel looked scared, but repeated nonetheless. And she mumbled a I agree after him before a pain shot down her left ring finger and she wrenched it from Azriel's grasp, tears pooling in her eyes. At that exact moment, the door slammed open and her mother stumbled in, gasping and clutching at her head.

"No..." She stared at her husband angrily with tears in her eyes.

Y/n didn't understand, but it wasn't as if she could question the adults. Because, even though her father didn't hate her, he didn't like her very much either, hitting her whenever she got too loud. But he wasn't bad, atleast Y/n didn't think so.

Maybe when her older siblings came home from school, she would ask them about it.

•○🌑○•

As she stared at the rain droplets pelting the window of her room, Y/n couldn't stop thinking about that day. It had been almost five centuries since then.

Asking her siblings about it had yielded no information, after all, they were kids too.

But now she knew.

Azriel's father had fame and control over the camp they had once lived in. Her father wanted to be in the good graces of the Lord and also the recently vacated position of the second most powerful person, the camp Lord's second in command. Azriel's father was giving Y/n's father what he wanted in exchange for her marriage to his bastard son.

Who had run away.

But she couldn't fault him for that, knowing what his father was like. She knew Azriel fairly well, considering she met him a few more times after the day they had been promised to each other. The last time they met, he had finally told Y/n that his father kept him in a dungeon. Then he left. They could have been called friends once, but now, Y/n didn't even know if he was alive or rotting somewhere. But, even after all these centuries, Y/n still cares for that tiny, skinny, timid boy with disheveled hair, who would get extremely happy if provided with one small act of kindness.

But she also couldn't stop the tiny kernel of resentment that bloomed in her, because, after he had run away, his father had decided that he no longer wanted to share the power when he wasn't getting anything out of it, kicking their family out of the camp. Her father had gone nearly crazy.

Her sister, Velda, had been in a similar situation as Y/n, having been forced to marry one of the more prized warriors. But she didn't have to make a promise for it, as the warrior wanted to marry her. Y/n had been forced to promise herself to Azriel because his father somehow knew that he couldn't marry Azriel forcefully.

She would have been married too, if not for the mark on the second last finger of her left hand, encircling it like a ring. Every day she woke up with a pot of dead and hope in her stomach. Dread, for if Azriel came to take her, she would be forced to marry him, but if he didn't, she'd have to ensure her father's taunts, as if it was somehow her fault Azriel escaped. Those taunts, which had increased since her mother's death, haunted her at night.

Hope, for if he came, maybe she'll be able to have the life she always dreamed of, and that Azriel would still be the boy she had befriended. And if he didn't, she won't have to leave.

Her father had waited all these years in hopes that Azriel would come to get his bride. But he was tired of waiting, it seemed. And so, today, she and her father they would be visiting Hewn City, in his hopes that the High Lord could find her husband.

•○🌑○•

The Hewn City was hauntingly beautiful. That's all Y/n could describe it as.

They were waiting on the side, her father conversing with someone named Keir while she stared at everything she could get her sights on in awe.

The doors to the court room suddenly opened, everyone falling silent as the High Lord and the Lady, with the little heir in her arms, walked in, with their Inner Circle, as they were called. Y/n kept her eyes downcast, hiding behind her father. Her neck prickles, as if someone was staring at her, but it wasn't something she was unfamiliar with.

Soon, everyone dropped to their knees, rising when the High Lord commanded. After a few people conversed with him, her father stepped forward, her following, still staring at the ground. He bowed, and she curtsied.

But then, when a shiver wound down her spine, she lifted her eyes.

She had to take a step back, her jaw dropping.

Because, staring at her were wide, hazel eyes.

She stared and stared, hoping she was dreaming and hoping that she wasn't. Because those eyes, she would never forget.

Azriel.

Her father bowed, turning away, and she shook her head at Azriel, slightly. He dipped his chin and looked away.

But when Y/n tried to step away, a sharp pain shot through her chest and left hand, a scream tearing from her throat. She fell to her knees, gasping and clutching her hand to her chest. One glance at the dais told her that Azriel had fallen to his knees as well, and everyone was silent, looking between the two of them.

She looked at her father, the confusion in his eyes clearing and a wicked smile blooming on his face.

"Finally."

•○🌑○•

Part 2

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faithschaffer · 8 months

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Day 5- The Spymaster

Sword- The Unraveler

The spymaster is busy enough dispatching her army of informant marionettes- with no time to spare on attackers, even her sword serves as another puppet, repelling foes without her needing to glance up from her reports.

#swordtember2023 #swordtember #sword #spymaster

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throneofsmut · 6 months

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Kinktober Day Thirty-One: Wing Play

Azriel x Female Reader

A / N : If you’ve been waiting for this i’m sorry it’s so late but i just kept rewriting it and getting stuck. I literally just finished this and went straight to proofreading it. It was giving me an aneurysm but i think this is the best it’s gonna get so please interact when you finish reading it and tell me what you guys think. Also it’s long as fuck, it’s quite literally the longest one ive written so far. I was thinking about turning it into a series but anyways i hope you guys enjoy and thank you for being patient with me 💙

When your older sister, Feyre was taken away by some fae beast in the night, you thought you’d never see her again. The rest of your family acted like nothing happened, all of sudden having money and status again. But you knew the truth, even went so far as to going to the wall a couple times.

The first time you went you found one of the ripples in the wall separating the humans and faeries. And pushed through, it felt… different. Once your body was completely through, you felt more alive, more like yourself.

Making the trek through the forest, hiding along the gates to the Manor of the Spring Court, you were just about to make a run for it. When suddenly a knife was pressed against your throat. Fae. You knew you had one chance at this, throwing your elbow behind you, into the fae’s middle with everything you had. The knife lightly slicing into your throat warm trickles of blood dripped from it, as you grabbed the knife lunging for the fae male.

Pressing it against his throat as the red haired male was gasping for breath - you winded him. Using your free arm to push him further into the ground. You leaned down, snarling, “Where is she ?”

He coughed finally regaining his breath, “Safe. She’s safe.”

Applying a bit more pressure against his throat, the knife made his skin redden, “Liar.”

“I’ll show you,” he panted softly.

You got off him but as soon as he stood you instantly had the blade pressed against his side. He led you to the side of the manor as he pointed up towards a window. You growled, sounding more fae than human, “Where is she ?”

A heart beat passed, “Look.” And there she was, your sister, Feyre.

She looked… happy.

You let out a shaky breath, fighting back tears, dropping the knife that was clutched in your hand. The red haired male turned to you, brows furrowed, “You love her.” It was more a statement than a question.

“Of course I do, she’s my sister. She’s one half of me.” He gave you a gentle smile before walking you back towards the wall.

Once you made it back to the wall, he stopped you, grabbing your arm. “I’m Lucien.” You gave him a small nod, his voice stopped you again, “So which sister are you ?”

“Y/n.”

He chuckled, “Y/n. That’s why you were able to disarm me. Feyre told me that while she hunted for the family, you fought in the pits for money.” Giving him another small nod, turning back towards the wall. “Listen, I can meet you at the wall every couple of weeks. If you want to check on her.” He offered.

Looking over your shoulder, your lips set in a wicked smirk, “I was going to keep checking on her regardless.”

His lips curved up into a smirk too before nodding his head towards the wall, “See you soon.”

Then you were gone.

So every 2 weeks for months you checked on feyre without her knowing. Lucien beside you as you both were perched in a tree, through the months you both slowly started becoming friends. At first he’d tell you how she was doing but then you’d both start asking each other questions. You’d never hated faeries, even though your family did. To you it was simple, they’d never done anything to you personally, so you didn’t hate them. Lucien laughed at that and told you he didn’t hate humans, this time making you laugh.

You were just about to head out to make your journey to the Spring court when Feyre showed up. Then almost as soon as she’d gotten back, she left.

A couple months later you went back and Lucien was already there waiting for you. “She’s not here.” He whispered.

“What ?”

He sighed, “She left.”

You felt your heart racing, Lucien could probably hear it. “I have to find her.”

Lucien grabbed your arm before you made it back through the wall, “You may not like what you find.” Then he let you go.

You practically sprinted the entire way home resting as little as possible. Ripping the door to your family’s estate and then slamming it shut, making your way to your bedroom. Sleep found you quickly that night, exhausted from your trek to the Spring Court and back home.

You slept in, almost sleeping through the whole day until you were woken up by voices. They were arguing and it sounded like they were coming from the dining room. Still in your night slip, you made your way down stairs - Feyre, Rhys, Cassian and Azriel had all been alerted to the sound of a door closing - walking into the dining room, you froze.

She was here.

Feyre was here but she was different. Now she was slightly taller than you only, pointed ears poking through her hair and she was beautiful. She was beautiful before but now… and she didn’t come alone. Three fae males were with her. One had eyes so blue they were violet and the others had large bat-like wings. They all stood, assessing you, not sure if they should be preparing for a fight.

“Feyre…” I whispered.

“You’re here.” She breathed.

That’s all it took for you to throw yourself into her arms. The both of you cried as you held each other. Throat tight as you whispered, “I didn’t know if you were dead or not.”

She let out a shaky breath as she hugged you tighter, “I was.”

Holding each other for a couple moments longer, before Nesta was clearing her throat and the both of you separated. Feyre took a step back, not letting go of your hand as she snarled at Nesta, “You said she wasn’t here.” Nesta merely shrugged in response. Feyre glared at her before turning to introduce you to the High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand. He bowed at the waist in greeting. Then she moved to the General of his Armies, Cassian. And finally to the most beautiful male you’d ever seen, his Spymaster, Azriel.

They surprisingly bowed at the waist in greeting as well, you bowed your head in return. A genuine smile on your lips as you acknowledged them, “Hello, pleasure to meet you. All you.” Rhysand was about to speak when Nesta cut him off, “Go change into something more appropriate.”

You rolled your eyes before turning to look at her, “I'm pretty sure it’s not the first time they’ve seen a female in night slip… or a pair of tits for that matter.” Turning back to face the four of them, you could see they were all fighting to not smirk at your antics.

Doing a mock curtsy directed a Nesta, “I’ll be back. Continue having dinner, don’t stop on my account.” Heading back upstairs, you still felt Nesta’s burning gaze on you, “Now, Nes !” You yelled at her over your shoulder just to piss her off even more.

You came back down once everyone was seated and noticed Cassian and Azriel kept shifting trying to get comfortable in chairs not meant to accommodate wings. Their eyes landed on you as you neared before stopping in the middle of the room, turning back on your heel. Yelling over your shoulder, “I’ll be right back.”

Hauling two stools back into the dining room, then the male named Azriel was suddenly at your side, taking them out of your hands. Cassian met him halfway, to grab one, before finally sitting comfortably without the backs of the chairs bothering their wings. They gave you warm smiles before thanking you, Rhysand saying thank you as well. You shrugged, “It’s nothing.”

Rhys shook his head, “Not to us. Thank you, for your kindness.”

Dinner was giving you a headache because Nesta and Feyre were arguing. You were picking at the skin around your thumbs when a large scarred hand settled over them, Azriel’s. Who was seated next to you. Turning to look at him, he didn’t look away from the argument but he gave your hands three reassuring squeezes. A silent sign that he saw you.

Then Cassian was trying to get a reaction out of Nesta, you let out small huff and without thinking you moved one of your hands, settling atop Azriel’s. Soft smooth fingers roaming over the scarred skin, tracing them. You felt him stiffen beneath your touch before relaxing again. You whispered almost inaudibly, “Beautiful.” Eyes never leaving his hands.

He looked at you and Rhys saw something flicker in his gaze but it was gone as soon as it came.

When dinner was over, Feyre and Rhys told your sisters and you why they’d really come.

War.

A war was coming and our village would likely get the brunt of it. They also told us that they wanted to meet with the six human queens, using the estate as a neutral meeting place. We all stayed up late into the night as they drafted up a letter to set the meeting. Everyone made their way upstairs but then Feyre followed you into your room. That’s when she told you everything. Finally getting up to make her way towards the door when a shadow slithered in. She laughed softly, “I wonder why it’s here.”

Tilting your head as it floated up in front of you , almost like it was taking you in, “Should we ask ?”

“If you want.”

“Uhh. . . Go get, Azriel. Please.” You said to the shadow.

Then it slithered away, going to get its master hopefully. Feyre and you waited. Then a couple moments later soft knocks sounded at your door.

You rushed to open it seeing if he had actually come.

“You came.” Something like amusement glittering in your eyes.

He gave you a shy small, “You called.”

“Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you but-“ Feyre cut you off. “Did you send the shadow in here ?”

Azriel cleared his throat, “No. They like you" - his eyes hadn’t left yours - "they wanted to see you again. I told them they might scare you so I told them to leave you alone but I guess they didn’t listen.”

Shaking your head, eyes still on his, “They don’t scare me.” He gave you a small nod, understanding what your words meant - he doesn’t scare you.

Then Feyre was walking past you, her hand on Azriel’s arm, “Come on, Let’s let her rest. The mother knows we need it too.”

The next morning after breakfast Rhys offered us that if we wanted we could go back to the Night Court with them if we didn’t feel safe on this side of the wall. We would be protected by him and his inner circle there. The whole time Rhys voiced his offer, Feyre's eyes were pleading you to come, to go “home” with her. Nesta and Elain said no, well Nesta said no for the both of them. Feyre’s voice was quiet, “Y/n ?”

You sighed heavily, “I can’t leave them.” She knew who you were talking about, and nodded solemnly.

They were about to leave when Rhys spoke again, “A squad of soldiers will be patrolling the area, you won’t even know they’re here but they will be. And if one of you" - he looked at you - "or all you change your mind a soldier will be in the drawing room at noon and midnight every day. He will send word back to me and you will be taken back to the Night Court.”

Nesta and Elain gave him a curt nod.

You bowed your head at him, “Thank you.”

He gave you a warm smile then bowed at the waist.

You walked them out, Feyre hugged you, breathing you in. Almost like she was trying to commit you to memory in case anything happened. Your eyes met with Azriel’s as you were hugging her, “Don’t worry. I feel sure we’ll see each other again.” Feyre hugged you tighter but Azriel nodded, he understood that your words were just as much for him as they were for Feyre. And just like that they were gone.

A couple weeks went by and the Queens had sent word that they would agree to meet. And on the day they had agreed, Lucien had sent you a letter that he wanted to speak with you on that same day. So you went. He asked about Feyre and her whereabouts, you didn’t tell him anything. Yes, you were friends but Feyre was your sister. Your loyalty was to her.

Time went by and everyday you thought about telling the Night Court soldier stationed in your home to tell Rhys that you wanted to go. But the thought of leaving Nesta and Elain alone, you couldn’t, you knew how to fight. They didn’t. So you stayed.

More time had passed and the Queens ended up siding with Hybern for their own personal gain. Your sisters and you caught in the middle of it. The three of you were dragged into a room in the King of Hybern’s castle by four of the Queens guards. You stood in front of your sisters protectively, they were still wearing their nightgowns, whereas yours was just in shreds now from you fighting back. Not to mention the bruises and cuts all over your face and body and the blood soaking your night slip.

You had managed to kill eleven of their guards when they appeared in your home and surprisingly six Hybern soldiers. Feyre, Rhys, Mor and Cassian all looked horrified as they took in the youngest sister’s appearance. Their horror was replaced by shock as Azriel let out a growl - sounding more animal than fae - as he saw her. You still hadn’t noticed their presence, your senses were clouded by pure unyielding rage.

Even though you were gagged and bound - they had somewhat ripped from all your fighting - you took a fighting stance as best you could. Your body was going on pure adrenaline. Numb to everything around you, you didn’t hear Elain’s quiet sobs that were muffled by the gag in her mouth or notice Nesta’s disheveled appearance as she panted from fighting back as best she could. Then without even thinking, you scrambled trying to cover Elain and Nesta’s bodies with your own, as the king of Hyberns power slammed into everyone. Power, white and unending. They were shrieking as you let out a cry of pain, his power affecting you.

Feyre was on the ground, Rhys was slammed to his knees along with Mor. Cassian and Azriel were on the ground. Cassian’s wings were shredded apart as he flared them protecting Azriel from the king’s powers. And Azriel was sprawled in a puddle of his own blood, an ash bolt through his chest. Elain let out a sob to warn Feyre of Tamlin’s approach. Mor tried to make a move for the King of Hybern, but Azriel’s cry of pain stopped her. The sound of him in pain finally cleared your senses. Your eyes landed on his and he attempted to move to you, letting out another cry of pain. No doubt the King's doing.

“Stop.” Your voice cold. The king only laughed, stalking towards you.

“Don’t touch her.” Azriel, Rhys, Lucien and Tamlin all growled.

He only laughed again as he ordered one his guards to take you to the cauldron. “Put the beautiful sister in first.” The second the guard was behind you, you slammed the back of your head into his nose and was ready to do more when Azriel let out another cry of pain, and you froze.

The king tsked at you, “Don’t. Don’t do that. Unless you want him dead.”

The rage in your eyes as you glared at him could devour worlds. One side of your mouth curling up into a cruel smile, as you said with lethal softness, “I’m gonna kill you. Not today, not tomorrow, but I’m gonna kill you. All of you.” He beheld the rage in your eyes and understood your words, the weight of them. They weren’t a threat they were a promise. And he faltered back a step, tearing his gaze from yours, before ordering the guard again, to put you in the cauldron. You gave him a wicked smirk that only the devil could replicate, “What’s wrong… scared ?”

The guard holding you slapped you, your head snapped to the side, spitting blood on the King of Hybern’s Face. Teeth covered in blood, giving him a feral smile as you were shoved closer to the cauldron. Then you heard Lucien’s voice, “Y/n. I’m so sorry.”

Then, Tamlin’s, “I am so sorry for everything.” The High Lord of Springs words filled you with more rage.

He’s sorry ? Oh, he’s sorry. He’s sorry. He’s Sorry. HE’S SORRY. HE’S SORRY.

Those were your last thoughts as your head was shoved under the water. The dark black waters of the Cauldron were so cold, that it burned hotter than any fire. It was all consuming just like your rage. You had always been quick to anger - to rage. It was easier to just turn everything you felt into rage. So this time was no different, finally letting it pour out of you in waves.

You had always been forced to give but this time you were going to take.

You couldn’t tell if it had only been seconds or hours since you’d been submerged under. Unknowingly to you, everyone was holding their breath at what they saw. The black cauldron was now glowing red, the dark calm waters now boiling white waters, bubbling over and smoking at the top. It had been too long, you had to be dead - no one could survive this - then both of your hands broke through the water.

Grasping the side of the glowing cauldron, then your head broke through the waters surface. Sucking in a harsh breath as you heard gasps throughout the room.

Blazing brighter than any star, glowing, fire made flesh. The others couldn’t stand to look at you - you burned so bright - as you hauled yourself out of the cauldron. So lost in a primal rage that you hadn’t even noticed your pointed ears and elongated limbs. The cauldron made you High Fae.

Standing to your full height everyone in the room held their breaths, they knew you were different. Felt it. As soon your hands broke through the surface they’d felt it. Your eyes were glowing as you scanned the entire room, no one moved. The look on your face was all rage and power, an avenging goddess. Death Incarnate.

Hearing a noise from your right, you snapped your head in that direction, an injured winged fae male - Azriel - was trying to make his way to you. Trying and failing. He was stopped by a blonde fae female, putting a hand on his chest. Moving it as he growled, “She’s my mate.” You didn’t know why but you just knew you had to get him.

You got as close to him as you could and he seemed to settle a bit. Then, Elain was dragged into the cauldron, scared and crying. It tipped itself on its side and Elain came out soaking wet but now fae. Lucien at her side moments later wrapped his coat around her. Soon after Nesta was thrown in, kicking and screaming. Cassian stirred but quickly succumbed to the pain of his shredded wings. The cauldron tipping itself on its side once more as Nesta came out. All three of you were made different. But when you came out it was as if the world held its breath.

In the end Rhys winnowed Cassian, Azriel and you in the middle of a warm home. Helping to lower Azriel onto one of the sofas, you were going to help Rhys put Cassian on the other but Azriel didn’t let go of your hand. And his cousin, Mor, followed shortly after with Nesta and Elain. While Feyre had been left with Tamlin and Lucien. Elain was still sobbing and Nesta was screaming. You stayed quiet, assessing as Mor and Rhys winnowed healers into the home.

They all crowded around Cassian and Azriel as they start to heal the general’s wings and the wound on Azriel’s chest. Without noticing, your free hand balled into a fist at your side and you had started to glow. A fae female approached you, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder, “You don’t need to see this. Come with us.” Turning to look at her, she had a soft look on her face. “My name is Cerridwen. My sister and I will get you cleaned up.” Nodding over her shoulder as you see her twin sister trying to usher your two sisters up the stairs. Rhys gives you a reassuring nod and you nod at Cerridwen once. Then bend down to play a kiss on Azriel’s lips - you don’t know why you did it - before letting her lead the way, too tired to fight.

The only people you saw for two weeks were the twins and Rhys. Sometimes your sisters. Mostly keeping to yourself because you knew what magic lay beneath your skin, in your veins. You didn’t want to scare anyone, more than you scared yourself. They didn’t know how it felt, how much you struggled to keep it buried. So you’d let it out in little ways, and that was just the flames.

While you were alone, you often stared at yourself in the mirror. It was strange being high fae, it felt familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. The unnatural elongated features and limbs. Pointed ears and smooth skin. You weren’t just devastatingly beautiful. You were otherworldly and vaguely threatening.

You’d also been having trouble sleeping, Azriel’s shadows would often slither under the door and caress your face, trying and failing to help you fall asleep. But, every time you did sleep you would have a nightmare. It was always the same two. Either, you in the cauldron or Azriel dying. A sharp tug in your chest would always wake you up from them and you’d hear soft footsteps outside your door as you gasped for breath.

Then as soon as you’d catch your breath, they’d leave.

You hadn’t slept two nights in a row, the shadows kept trying to drag you into bed, but you were stubborn. Instead preferring to let flames dance along your fingertips, twining around your now long slender fingers. Batting away the shadows every time they’d grab ahold of your wrist, trying to drag you into your room from the balcony. Then they’d swat you back, on the back of your hand like a child being scolded. On the third night when they tried again and you batted them away, they didn’t do it back. Simply slithering away under the door.

Moments later you heard footsteps getting closer then the door softly clicking open.

You knew who it was, you felt him all the way from the door, even though you were outside. Scenting him as soon as he stepped out onto the balcony.

Azriel.

“The shadows tell me you haven’t been sleeping. Why ?” He said as a way of greeting.

You shrugged, not bothering to look up, “I don’t know.” You mumbled.

“You’re safe now, I promise. Your sisters are too.”

“I’m so tired, Az.” Your voice came out shakier than you expected.

So lost in the flames, that you didn’t realize he was right next to you until he was hauling you into his arms, carrying you back to bed.

Laying on your side, peering up at him, you whispered. “Can you sleep in here tonight ?”

He only stared at you, hazel eyes boring into your as his throat bobbed. “Please.” He nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his boots and leathers. Tapping on his shoulder, he turned to look at you.“Can I ask you for one more favor ? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

He nodded his head again, “Can we do skin to skin ? You don’t have to take off your briefs, I’ll leave my panties on, but I just want to feel you. Know that your're there.”

Azriel cleared his throat, “If that’s what you want.” You nodded your head and he did too in response.

Once he was only in his briefs he laid down on your bed, you sat up on your knees facing him, pulling your night slip over your head. He groaned softly, “You’re gonna be the death of me.” You felt your face heat up as you giggled softly, murmuring an apology as you laid on his chest. His large scarred hand moved to rub your back soothingly, helping you fall asleep. Mumbling a thank you as a dreamless sleep claimed you that night.

Azriel squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head against the glare of the morning sun. He always had his curtains drawn and blinds closed so the light wouldn’t wake him when he did manage to sleep in. Even then he never slept in past dawn but it had to be late morning now if the sun was this bright. He was about to move to draw the curtains, freezing when he felt something weighing down on his chest. Knowing it wasn’t anything dangerous because his shadows would’ve told him otherwise, he blinked slowly against the sunlight and saw you.

There, on his chest lay his mate's head with her hair covering part of her face. Your arm was draped over his middle and your leg over his hips, his hand still on the small of your back. Now he knew why he’d slept in for the first time in a long long time, he had finally found his peace… you.

You looked so soft like this, beautiful. Azriel always thought you were beautiful but now that you were on his chest he couldn’t take his eyes off you. Couldn’t resist the urge to use his free hand to push your hair away from your face and trace a scarred finger over your soft features. A small smile graced his lips. You hummed, brows furrowing at the feeling of someone touching you. Azriel only moved his hand to continue playing with your hair.

Then you shifted a bit, showing him more of your face before giving him a sleepy smile as you mumbled, voice still thick with sleep, “Good morning.”

Azriel chuckled softly, “Yeah. It is.”

“How long have you been up ?” You asked, moving your head to lay on his bicep.

“A while.” Azriel breathed.

“Why didn’t you wake me up ? I would’ve moved, if you had something to do.”

“You looked so peaceful, I couldn’t.”

Lips curving up into a teasing smile, “So you mean to tell me, the infamous shadowsinger was scared to wake me up ?”

He laughed at that, “Maybe.”

You moved to sit up, the sunlight streaming in behind you making a golden halo around you. Opening your eyes, stretching your arms out, letting out a soft groan. Azriel gasped softly and you froze, “What ?”

“Your eyes, they- they’re glowing and your hands.” He stuttered as he sat up.

Squeezing your eyes shut, taking a deep breath as you willed your powers back into you. Moving further back on the bed - away from him - your voice quiet, “Sorry I- I didn’t meant to scare you.”

He shook his head, reaching for you, this time you didn’t move, not as his hands cradled your face. “Scary? My gods, you’re divine.” He whispered.

Putting your hands atop his, pulling them off your face, whispering, “What if I hurt you ?”

“You could never hurt me, I’d only feel you.”

Tears lined your eyes, bottom lip quivering, “You don’t know that. I can’t control it yet. I could burn you.”

“I’d let you, I don’t want to control your fire. I need to be near it.” He rasped out.

Your eyes flickered between his, the confession in them. He would. He would let you burn him as long as you were touching him. Azriel wanted to stay away longer, let you adjust but you unknowingly called out to him through the bond. He’d come as close to being outside your door, then turn back, afraid he’d ruin it and scare you. Then you and him would end up like Lucien and Elain. “You should go. I don’t want to hurt you.” You mumbled, looking away, not wanting to see the pain in his eyes. Or him the pain in yours.

“From the moment I met you, all those months ago, not a day has gone by when I haven’t thought of you. And now that I’m with you again. . . I’m in agony. The closer I get it to you, the worse it gets. The thought of not being with you- I can’t breathe. I’m haunted by the kiss that you should’ve never have given me. My heart is beating. . . hoping, that kiss will not become a scar. You are in my very soul, Tormenting me. . . What can I do ? –I will do anything that you ask. If you are suffering as much as I am, please, tell me.”

“Kiss me.” You breathed.

His eyes scanned your face, looking for any hesitation, when he found none his lips met yours with an urgent, bruising impact. A desperation that you returned, tracing your tongue over the seam of his lip. You weren’t sure he was breathing. And just to see what he’d do, smirking against his plush lips, you palmed him through his briefs.

He pulled back, throwing his head back in a curse.

You laughed quietly, kissing the scar on his chest from the ash bolt, as he panted. Asking in between the kisses that you were littering down his torso, “Can you keep going ?”

“Your blood healed me,” he gritted out through clenched teeth.

You chuckled softly, “So that’s what Rhys wanted it for.” When you laid your palm flat on him again, you asked, “So this is okay ?”

Azriel was still panting, his breathing jagged, “Don’t stop.”

“Maybe. If you ask nicely.”

“Please, Fireheart.” The nickname made your heart flutter. Kissing him once more, teeth tugging on his bottom lip before pulling down his briefs. Mouth going dry at the sight of him, bare for you.

He was all for you.

Then his hands were in hair, his lips smashing into yours. Large scarred hands roaming your body, trying to memorize all the dips and curves of it. Roughly gripping the swell of your ass, making your chest rise up, sensitive peaked nipples rubbing against him. Azriel did it again, swallowing the moan trying to escape your soft lips.

You move your hand down between your bodies, stroking him, earning a grunt out of him. Then he flipped you, laying you flat against the unmade bed. Pulling back, chests heaving as he rips your panties off your body. Groaning at the sight of your glistening slick covered cunt. He fights to tear his eyes away when he hears a whimper leave your lips. Finding his shadows tugging and swirling around your nipples, while your head is thrown back and your eyes screwed shut.

His scarred thumb moving lightly over your clit makes you look at him through half lidded, lust filled eyes. Azriel’s eyes darken, moving to climb over you, caging you in before applying more pressure to your clit. You whine, “Az, Please.”

“What do you need, Fireheart ?” He says rubbing your clit faster.

Your back bows, “You. I need you inside me, Az”

Azriel gives you a wicked smirk as his eyes glint, “Maybe. If you ask nicely.” He taunts, using your words against you.

“Please.” You cry out.

He chuckles darkly, before praising you, “Good girl.”

Then you feel the head of his cock rubbing between your soaked folds. Azriel looks like he’s barely holding himself back, so you give him a soft nod and then he’s pushing into you. The stretch makes your eyes screw shut in pain and pleasure, crying out as he buries himself in your cunt. Rubbing the side of your thigh as he coos praises at you.

When he’s finally all the way into the hilt, breathing heavily, “Look at me.” He commands. As soon as your eyes meet his, your breath hitches. Something in your chest snapped. You could feel it, almost like a glowing thread inside you. Grasping onto it, you gave it tug and his jaw clenched.

Brows furrowing as you asked “What is that ?”

“The mating bond.” He answered.

You gave the bond another hard tug and he clenched his jaw again, “You’re my mate ?”

“I’m yours and you’re mine.” He claimed, tugging back.

Giving him a feral smirk, possessiveness lacing your voice. “You’re mine.”

Azriel chuckles darkly, before leaning back down and putting his arms under your back to hold on to your shoulders. Then he’s pulling slowly out before slamming back in. Grunting lowly, “Fuck you’re tight-” his words making you moan loudly, “-my perfect little mate.” The sound only urged him to go faster, harder - to claim. All you could hear was your whimpers and strangled screams, his low groans and breathy moans, as he snapped his hips at a merciless pace.

The fire in your tummy spreads, as his cock hit that sweet spot inside of you over and over again. His name on your lips was a prayer and he was your god as writhed beneath him. Completely and utterly at his mercy. “Azriel - Azriel - Azriel !” Hips bucking, chasing a high only he could give you, crying out his name as you were right on the edge.

Your body felt like it was on fire, biting his shoulder as your release barreled through you. His pace slowed but he didn’t stop as you fell apart. Noticing the sheets gripped in your hands were now turning to ash. He didn’t care, all that mattered was you and your pleasure. He praised you, “Let go, Fireheart. That’s it, just like that. Good girl.”

Still out of breath as you told him, “I want to get on top.” His pupils flared, then he flipped the both of you, so you were on top. Legs still shaking as you braced your hands on his tattooed chest, lifting almost all the way off before sliding back down. You felt so full in this new position. His hands gripping your hips, helping bounce on him. The sound of your ass smacking his thighs had him throwing his head back and rolling his eyes. Then he looked at you as you let out a noise you hadn’t made before.

Taking your hands off his chest, holding onto his forearms with your head thrown back as your plush lips parted. Azriel’s name is a desperate plea on your lips as your tits bounce wildly in front of him. His shadows, moving to grope them and circle your clit. He couldn’t take it, he needed to feel you against him.

Pulling you to his chest as he rutted into, you barely had enough time to catch yourself, your hands flat on the bed. Eyes squeezing shut as you got lost in the pleasure he was providing. Without realizing your nail grazed his wing - that was currently splayed beneath him - and he whimpered. Azriel actually whimpered. You froze, thinking you’d hurt him but he just continued fucking you.

So you traced a single finger along the bony structure closer to the base of his wings, he tensed slightly before he whimpered again. “Am I hurting you ?”

“Only if you stop.” He grunted.

You did it again, then moved closer to the base of his wing. Your nail lightly scraping over the smaller ridges that were there. The walls of your cunt fluttering around him as his cock twitched inside of you in response to your touch. A soft whimper falling from his lips before he cursed as you continued exploring his wings.

Azriel hips stuttered, his voice a desperate breathy hiss, “T- There ! Right there.” As you applied more pressure to one of the small ridges. “Please !” He begged, tipping his head back, hazel eyes screwed shut as he shivered in pleasure. “Does that feel good, baby ?” You whispered in his ear, voice sounding like pure sin.

“Mhmm… Fuck.” He groaned.

Placing a kiss on his neck, right below his ear, “Good boy.” You praise.

He rolled his hips against yours, the pace frenzied and erratic. Adding a little more pressure to his wing and his hips stuttered, shadows moving between the two of you, pinching your nipples and rubbing your clit.

His hands dig into your hips, hard enough to bruise as you bite his shoulder again. Azriel bucked into you a few more times, he gave one last deep thrust as he spilled into you, your name on his lips as he fell apart.

Your walls spasming and contracting, milking every drop of his seed as the both of you fell over the edge together. His shadows finally stop their assault on your overly sensitive nipples and clit, moving to push his and your hair away from your faces. Then Azriel shifts you a little, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your forehead.

His lips still against your forehead as he pants softly, “I love you, Fireheart.”

He moves to lean his forehead against yours and then you breathe, “I love you.”

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel fanfic #azriel smut #azriel x reader #shadowsinger #shadowsinger fanfic #shadowsinger smut #shadowsinger x reader #spymaster #spymaster fanfic #spymaster smut #spymaster x reader

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juviavevo · 6 months

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russell t davies if you can hear us please. rtd. please save m

#doctor who #thoschei #spygatwa #15th doctor #spymaster #ncuti gatwa #sacha dhawan #listen I’m literally going insane if these two will never meet hello. russel t davies PLEASE.#spy master

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thoscheism · 4 months

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#dhawan!master #doctor who #thoschei #13th doctor #spydoc #spymaster #thirteenth doctor #thoscheigif #doctor who gifs #thoscheiceo gif #they are ruining my life

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thisblogisaboutabook · 7 days

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Mr. and Mrs. Shadowsinger

Azriel x Reader - Angst - Smut

His eyes are cold and restless, his wounds are almost healed, and she’d give half of Prythian just to change the way he feels. She knows his love’s in the Hewn City and she knows he’s going to go. But it’s not a female he’s leaving for, it’s his damned duty to the Night Court.

Warnings: sexual content, grinding, dom/sub dynamic, language, bondage, grinding, fingering, toxic couple, using intimacy as a form of persuasion

Her mate was strong but gods damn it, so was she. Perhaps that’s why by some cruel twist of fate, she was mated to the infamous Spymaster of Night Court. A male that could torture the secrets out of seasoned liaisons with even the highest of clearances. Nobody in Prythian was better at the game than him, and he wouldn’t allow anyone a moment to doubt it. “Cold”, “Calculating”, “Ruthless”, those that feared him would whisper.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Azriel?” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

His cold, stony gaze fixed on the door behind her as she pressed her body against it, blocking the exit.

Placing two palms to his leather covered chest, she shoved - perhaps she was the only one who didn’t fear him. In fact, she loved him and that was the fucking problem. She wished she didn’t, wished she could let his ass walk right out that front door and not give him a second glance. Instead she was so hopelessly devoted to him that she couldn’t fathom letting him go without a fight. The irony wasn’t lost on her that she needed him, like he needed to draw information from anyone he perceived as a threat to the Night Court. Those that respected him would call it honorable. She called it fucking insufferable.

To his credit, at the belligerent outburst of his mate, a slight tick of his jaw was the only sign of his irritation - a large hand raising to each of her shoulders.

“You just got back! This is fucking bullshit and you know it!” She huffed. She wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t let him see her weak. No, not today. Let him read the resolve in her eyes.

“I’ll be back tomorrow night.” His firm tone left no room for argument.

Too bad for him she didn’t give a damn about personal space as she made room to retaliate anyway.

“You’re not even healed! Your left wing is tattered in two places. Never mind the fact that I’ve barely seen you this past month. What the hell, Azriel? Do I not matter to you?”

His cold, restless gaze faltered for a moment. “That’s unfair, Y/N, and you know it. You matter and so does ensuring the safety of the court we live in. It’s my duty.”

She pushed a finger into his chest, emphasizing her next words. “No, Azriel, what’s unfair is the way you are walking out on me again. Fuck this court and every person in it, I only want you.” Rage seeped through her, rising to a boil beneath her heated skin. Azriel’s lips remained pressed in a firm line, a slight rustle of his wings the only show of frustration.

Lifting a scarred finger and tracing it lightly along the side of her face, he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t mean that.”

Her brow creased at the implication. “I do and you know it. You are all I care about, you’re my fucking mate, not the people of this court, not the city of Velaris, YOU.”

Shaking his head, he remained calm, letting out an exhale. “We can’t keep doing this, Y/N. You’ve known my duties since well before we mated. You don’t see me complaining when you’re away on missions for the Valkyries.”

Oh- he struck a nerve with that. Bracing himself for the recoil he stood firm, crossing his arms in the warriors stance he and Cassian had both perfected over the years. With a cock of his head he continued, “Did I strike a nerve there? Let it out, Y/N. Let’s get this out of the way so you’re not stewing the entire time that I’m gone.”

“You are infuriating!” She howled, her power rolling off her skin in waves, Azriel’s shadows recoiled but he didn’t flinch. “You know why you don’t complain? Because you’re still fed, fucked, and fawned over every single night you’re home. Do I get the same treatment in return? No!”

“So that’s why you’re upset?” He challenged. “You need me to fill your pretty cunt? Is that it baby?”

He hit his mark with the statement. A rush of arousal barreling into him before she clamped down on their bond, rage again lining her sharp features. “I can get off well enough on my own, Azriel.” she spat, his name dripping off her lips with venom. He wanted to bite those lips, suck the venom coating right off of them.

He leaned in, centimeters away from her ear, running a thumb gently up and down her forearm. “You sure about that? You seem a bit-“ hazel eyes roved hungrily up and down her form, from the exposed flesh of the thighs her negligee did very little to cover, to the hint of areola peaking over the deep cut of lace trim, disheveled in her haste to catch him before he left the house. He closed the distance, his lips now caressed the shell of her ear. “-tense.”

“Fuck you.” She snarled.

“Oh, did I not make that clear enough?” He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, his hazel eyes boring into the depths of her own. “That’s what I’m offering.”

“You can’t fix this with fucking! I’m going to get Rhys, now. You’re not leaving. Not this time.” She stormed to their bedroom, the curve of her ass teasing him as he followed her through the house. Throwing open the armoire door she grabbed a silk t-shirt and leggings, hurriedly putting them on over her slip. Azriel’s tall form leaned against the door frame, arms crossed, watching his angry little mate with a smirk.

“I’m not fucking joking.” She scowled. “I don’t give a shit that he’s your High Lord. You’re MY mate first. Or did you forget that?” She marched toward the doorway shifting to slide past his towering frame. Just as she thought he’d let her past he flung out an arm. “How could I forget, my love? Your fiery rage is the soothing balm warming my own forged of ice.”

She hissed as she barreled into his arm, no match against the 500 years of hard-earned, corded muscle beneath. “No you don’t.” He hauled her over his right shoulder as she kicked and beat her clenched fists against the defined muscles of his back. “Put me down!”

He smiled to himself with satisfaction at the fact that though his mate was livid as all hel with him, she still was careful to throw those fists away from the sensitive membranes of his wings.

Reaching the edge of their oversized bed and much to her dismay, Azriel cradled one hand to the nape of her neck, and looped the opposite arm beneath her ass, dropping her onto the bed, his shadows darting out to restrain her.

“This isn’t going to work!” She yelped.

He hummed, a look of pure male arrogance crossing his gorgeous features. Leaning over the edge of the bed, he braced his weight on his left arm, tracing a calloused finger down the valley between her breasts. “Is that why the sweet aroma of your need is filling every inch of this room?”

Gritting her teeth, she fought the shadows pinning her to their bed.

She loved this and he knew it. His mate was wild, untamed, only yielding within the safety of their bedroom walls.

He placed a knee between her thighs, spreading them, and placing just enough pressure against her core to earn a whimper at the friction.

“Tell me what you need, Y/N.” he demanded.

The female shook her head.

“I may be a patient male, love, but I don’t have time to wait for you. Going to need you to use your words.”

She only scowled at him and he didn’t miss the way she almost imperceptibly arched her back, raising her chest, pebbled nipples peaking from beneath her silken shirt.

“Very well.” He tsk’d, turning his back, wings flaring slightly to remind her of just how accurate the rumors about wingspan were.

He stepped outside the door frame, turning the corner when a pitiful “Wait.” came from their room.

Her scent flowed to him from their room, his cock jerking at the win, at the fact that her submission and desire for him was so evident. He waited a moment. Oh yes, he was going to make her wait for this. Spymaster duties could hold off long enough to punish his girl for her outburst, in all the ways she loved to be reprimanded. She needed the attention and her behavior was a clear sign of it.

So he sauntered back into their room, oozing with confidence as he took in the sight of his mate, defenseless in her binded state.

“Can you be good for me, baby?” He asked in a condescending manner.

She nodded her head, apology dancing in her eyes.

“Promise me, baby.” He teased. “Show me just how good you can be.”

“Yes, sir.” She spoke submissively.

Pride sparked in his chest at her changed behavior. Releasing his shadows, he looked to her with faux empathy in his eyes, seating himself at the edge of the bed. “Strip.”

She did as he requested with no argument.

“Good girl.” He cooed, patting his thigh. “Now c’mere”

He took in every inch of exposed skin as she strode toward him, avoiding eye contact in a show of deference. Very well, the subtle bounce breasts with each step was captivating his attention anyway.

His submissive girl was so fucking good for him.

She spread her legs, straddling his thigh, dropping her weight down onto it, waiting patiently for his next command.

Looking into her eyes, he whispered in a low voice that sent chills through her, his palm cupping her jaw, thumb running across her lower lip. “You’re so delicious, you know? Those pretty lips make me want to devour them until they’re puffy and red.”

He was setting the bait. The next sentence determining whether she’d be rewarded or not based on her response. “But, unforunately” Azriel let out an exasperated sigh, “I don’t have all day. Our court needs me.”

He caught the flash of violence in her eyes, the rage warring within them. But to his surprise, she didn’t react. Not one single word of resistance falling from that pretty mouth.

He placed a hand on either side of her hip, situating her center over the seam of his leathers. “I know you didn’t like that, sweet girl. But look at you, you’re being so good for me right now. You’re learning.”

She smiled coyly at the praise, biting her lip and looking up to him with fluttering eyelashes.

“You can move now, baby. Take your pleasure.”

So she did, finding that perfect angle and rhythm to bring the friction she so desperately needed to her aching core.

Her body began to tense, little moans and whimpers spilling from her lips, brows furrowing as she focused on her pleasure. “Azzie.” She whispered innocently. “Please, may I come?”

He brought a scarred hand to the back of her head. “Such good manners, baby. So proud of you.”

She beamed at the praise.

“Yes, my good girl. You may.”

A whimper fell from her lips as his thumb found the sensitive bud of her clit, moving it in those rhythms he’d long ago perfected, bringing her to the edge in no time.

She cried out his name through shattered moans, her head falling to the crook of his neck, breasts heaving against him. When her panting settled, she whispered, “Thank you.”

Opening his mouth to accept her gratitude, he was taken back by something pulling at his wrists, ankles following suit.

His mate hopped off of him, heading to the closet. “What the hell?” Azriel shouted.

“Some Spymaster you are.” She chided, eyes rolling with contempt. “When would I ever submit so easily? Think with your other head next time, Az.”

Throwing on a set of leathers that typically would have had his cock at full attention by the way they hugged her like a second layer of skin, she flashed him a vulgar gesture and left the room, leaving him pinned to their four-poster bed by his own damned shadows.

He fought against the binds but the traitorous things were having none of it.

“Y/N! Come back!” He yelled but the only response was the slamming of the front door echoing down the hall.

——————————

Hours later a disheveled Shadowsinger found himself in the Hewn City. After much convincing his shadows had finally let him free of their restraint when he promised the lecherous things their share of playtime with their favorite little mate - their mate who was absolutely going to be punished later.

He was fuming, embarrassment weighing heavily upon him like an anchor. He almost felt bad for the subject Rhys has sent him to elicit information from today. They expected it would take at least a day, if not two to work on this one. Azriel guessed a day based on the less-than-generous mood he was in.

His heavy footsteps echoed off the walls of the Hewn City dungeons as he neared the cell of his subject, shadows promising violence, an obvious attempt to win back his affections after their betrayal.

Azriel gaped as he rounded the corner to find his leather clad mate sitting in a chair outside the cell, seated in a relaxed show of dominance with one leg crossed over the other, irreverently picking at her cuticles with fucking Truth-Teller.

“What the hell?” He fumed at his mate. “Where is the prisoner?”

“Oh, him?” She flashed a wicked grin.

“He’s gone. I got the information Rhys needed.”

His brows furrowed with disbelief. There was no way. It had only been a couple of hours. “How?”

She stood, swishing her hips as she sauntered toward him, brushing her chest against his. “I have my ways. Certainly you would know that.” She flicked her gaze to his swirling shadows who quickly hid in shame. “Your shadows surely do.”

Gripping him by the front of his leathers, she pulled him into a kiss, claiming his mouth with her own. The Shadowsinger too dumbfounded to argue.

“C’mon Shadowsinger.” She quirked an eyebrow, as she looked into his eyes with challenge. “You’re mine. Now, let’s go home.”

—————————————-

A/N: you get extra credit if you know where the summary for this story came from.

General tags: @lilah-asteria

#acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #a court of silver flames #a court of frost and starlight #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger #Azriel smut #azriel one shot #Azriel’s mate #azriel spymaster #spymaster

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