#More Az critical though

[acourtofthought]

Hey, what do u think about fans saying Sarah is giving Lucien personality traits to Azriel? I do notice that he went from “misterious” (*cough*boring*cough*) to actually showing some personality, which is interesting…

It feels like SJM isn't completely sold on what she wants to do with Az because his character isn't cohesive as of late.

We went from Cassian saying that even he and Rhys can't get Az to open up after centuries yet suddenly he's casually chatting with Nesta and Bryce in HOFAS even though they literally do not trust Bryce and he's only been real friends with Nesta for a few months. He had moments of still being aloof but he was more open around Bryce and Nesta than anyone and that's odd since we don't even see that between he and Cassian in SF.

Where Az, instead of snarking back at Eris for what he said of Mor, exploded into a rage. Where he barely said two words to Koschei and looked genuinely scared yet suddenly he's cocky and sassing to Vesperus after she had been released from her coffin and he had learned she made his kind.

Where he stopped Gwyn from asking him to demonstrate whether he could sing because he didn't feel like it yet was humming in front of Bryce.

Where Az literally has never shown physically affectionate behavior towards anyone throughout the series yet he's stroking Nesta's hair and thanking the mother.

It's not necessarily that she's stealing Lucien's characteristics or other characters who are similar to Lucien from other series so much as it seems she's suddenly recycling them for Az to show how he's being developed to become a MMC but it feels off for him? Az is canonically cold and aloof, where he only brings out his gentle side for those he deems kind of weak (like he does with Elain), who you have to pull teeth to get anything out of and who doesn't say much so it is just a bit odd to have scenes that look suspiciously similar to the Lucien scenes that came before when it does at this point seem out of character for how he's previously been written.

If this is the direction she wants to take Az than that is her perogative but it's a little tricky to hop on board when it is so drastically different from the Az that came before, especially the Az in SF and his bonus. It's the "I'm going to tell you rather than show you" tactic and that's a bit more difficult for some to get behind because we didn't see the evidence of why he's suddenly become someone different than what he was previously portrayed as. Saying his growth happened off page feels too easy a cop out.

It would be like Elain suddenly becoming a bloodthirsty warrior in the next book. SJM can do that with Elain's character if she wants, right? After all, Elain is her creation and maybe that's the final arc for Elain she's been building to when she added the line in the bonus about gardening resulting in something pretty but getting one's hands dirty along the way. But I think it would still ring false to certain readers because of everything that came before it and I don't think they'd be so easily swayed to have people telling them "well this is clearly what SJM wanted to do with her so you just need to accept it". An author can write whatever they want in their books but that doesn't mean every reader is going to buy into what feels like a new direction for a character "just because".

#anti Azriel #More Az critical though

[itsphoenix0724]

Hold Me Gently (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Azriel knew exactly what he signed up for when he became the court's spymaster, but sometimes everything gets too much for him to handle.

Warnings: Smut, angsty, negative thoughts about oneself, some dark stuff mentally

Word count: 1.6k

Bonus Chapter!

A/N: Hi loves! I'm excited to put this out for you guys I've been working on it for kind of a hot minute. Please read the tags carefully. I hope you all enjoy it, and as always constructive criticism is welcome. Plus I've got a special surprise coming in December that I may announce later this week so keep a look out. <3

Azriel swore sometimes he could still hear the screams that echoed off the stone walls of the Hewn City rattle around in his brain for days. Rhys had been clear this time. 

Get the information through whatever means necessary, no matter what. 

So that’s exactly what he had done, and it had taken hours. He sent Rhys a message with the information and winnowed directly into your bedroom. He knew you were downstairs in the kitchen because he had sent his shadows earlier to watch you, but he couldn’t bear to have you look at him right now. To have you look at him like he was the most amazing thing in the universe when you had no idea what horrors he committed just an hour earlier. Azriel hides his shame from the portrait of his mating ceremony, turning away from even your painted adoration. He is not the smiling male in that picture. He is not the male who deserves to put his blood-stained hands around your waist. He doesn’t deserve any of it. Not your kindness, not your comfort, not your kiss, or your smile. Not when he spent half the day ripping a man apart. 

Maybe that male had a mate waiting at home too. 

He sneaks carefully into the bathroom, turning the bathtub's faucet to boiling and letting the tub fill. Az peels off his leathers layer by layer, and they hit the clean white tile with a sickeningly wet sound, none of the blood is his. As he watches the red slowly seep onto the floor he knows that the tile’s just another thing he’s ruined. 

He wishes he could peel his skin off as well. 

Azriel sinks slowly into the tub, letting the sting of the hot water work every muscle. He wanted to erase everything, to let the water cleanse away his disgusting actions. His shadows send a whisper of you humming quietly from the kitchen and he almost bursts into tears. How had the cauldron given him someone someone so gentle? How did you wake up in their bed every day and not know you slept next to a monster? Az sinks under the surface, unable to bear the rushing in his head, and doesn’t come back up until his lungs are screaming for air. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You knew something was wrong when your mate didn’t immediately come to see you after returning from his mission. You had heard the faucet start to run while chopping vegetables for dinner, and you assumed Az was quickly rinsing off before he joined you. After half an hour had passed you started to become concerned. You knew your mate, and even though he never told you specifics, he sometimes needed time after his return from the Hewn City. You silently creep up the stairs of your home, avoiding all the creaking floorboards that might tip Azriel off. You swing open the bedroom door, but he is nowhere to be found the only evidence of him is a trail of blood that sends your heart into overdrive. You follow it to your bathroom door, now more worried about his safety than anything. The bond beating in your chest is dark, and it has been since Az left your bed this morning. Throwing open the door you’re met with a wall of crushing darkness. You fight through the swirling blackness, trying to call Azriel’s name, but you can’t see two feet in front of you. A rouge shadow comes to circle your wrist dragging you to your mate’s hunched form in the bathtub, base instinct takes over as you climb into the water hissing as the burning water scalds your thighs. “Azriel,” You call his name, taking his head in your hands. His hazel eyes seem unfocused like he’s looking through you than at you. “Az,”  you rush out again. “Are you bleeding? Are you hurt?” You tilt his head this way and that way before scanning the rest of his body. You shake him at the shoulders trying to get him to see you. Finally, as if Az just realized you were there, he looks at you. 

“The blood isn’t mine.” is all he says before his head thumps back against the porcelain as if it’s too heavy to hold on his own. Your shoulders sag in relief. “You shouldn’t be in here. Go back downstairs I’ll be there in a minute.” He runs the wet silk of your nightgown in between his fingers. You have no intention of leaving this bathtub until you figure out what's wrong with your mate.

“What’s happened?” You push running your fingers through the threads of his inky black hair. “Did the mission not go well?” Azriel scoffs, looking unbothered, but you can see the muscles in his throat tightening with effort to keep something hidden. You try to pull at the bond again, begging him to lower the obsidian shields he builds around himself, his hands shake with the effort of keeping them impenetrable. He still avoids your eyes, yet you try again refusing to yield. “Sweetheart…” you whisper softly and the Shadowsinger cracks before you. His walls rush down and crash against you like a tsunami, the wave of self-hatred that he had been holding in barrels against you with enough force to bring down the mountains. Silver lines his hazel eyes and your heart almost cracks in two. Wrapping your arms around Azriel you cradle him to your body, his hands tighten around your waist seeming torn between pulling you closer and pushing you away. His shoulders shake with the force of his sobs and all you can do is keep stroking his hair and make soothing sounds, trying to calm him down enough to speak. Az takes a shuddering breath, but the tears still stream down his face. You chase them away with the pads of your fingers. 

 “I do not deserve you,” he grinds out, voice rusty from the tears. You rub soothing circles into the joints of his shoulders and it makes Azriel want to throw up. “I am the monster mothers warn their children about at night. I’ve committed horrors that should make you run away in terror” You shake your head with feverance. 

“I would never run from you Azriel. There is nothing too dark or too ugly that would make me love you any less. I promise you I can handle it.” Azriel does nothing but collapse back against you shaking his head back and forth. “Just talk to me please.” He takes a deep inhale, trying to calm his racing heart. 

“I bled a male dry today. Rhys needed information, and he was harder to break than anticipated.” It’s all the information Az is willing to give. You have to stamp down the fury rising in your own chest. Both at Rhysand for putting your mate through this and at the Hewn City itself. 

You’d tear this court apart brick by brick for making Azriel feel like he’s less than deserving of his life. 

You’ll have to talk with Rhys later because for now, your focus is Az and Az alone. You refuse to allow him to continue to carry on like this, cursing yourself for not realizing the effects of this position wearing on him sooner. 

“Look at me.” You pull his jaw towards you, forcing him to meet your eyes “There is no universe where you are not deserving of happiness. You have a job to do, and I understood that when I accepted this bond. I do not fear you, I do not balk from you, and I do not love you any less because of that.” The bond sings with light as the weight finally starts to leave your mate's shoulders. Golden eyes study you intensely before he hauls you against him in one fluid motion and crashes his lips to yours. He tastes like burning whiskey, and kisses you so fiercely you’re afraid your lips might bruise. You hold him together the best you can, afraid that if you let him go he will shatter into pieces before you. “Are you sure you want this right now?” You ask, you’ll give Az whatever he needs, and if he needs a distraction from his head then you’re happy to provide it to him. He nods, leaning down to press his lips to your collarbone. You run your hands along his back grinding yourself into him, and pour love and devotion down your side of the bond to him. His hardness presses against you as he nudges aside the scraps of lace before sheathing himself into the hilt. You let Azriel take what he needs, fucking you on his length, rocking you back and forth. He’s hitting the spot inside you that makes you see stars with such force water sloshes over the edge of the tub, washing away the blood from Azriel’s leathers. You run your hands along the edge of his wing and he roars, one hand almost cracking the porcelain of the bathtub. He changes his pace to pure brutality, using you like no more than a toy. Your thighs shake with the effort to keep yourself upright. He’s ruthless in the way he moves like a hungry predator finally tearing into its kill. Your orgasm tears through you with blinding energy, and you unravel faster than you’d like to admit, but Az always manages to have that effect on you. He loses himself soon after you, tumbling over the edge with so much force he rips the bottom of your nightgown into ribbons. You stare at each other for a long moment, relishing in the afterglow and grateful for the hot water in the tub. 

“I’m sorry for ripping your nightgown,” Azriel rumbles and you laugh a beautiful golden sound. 

“You can buy me a new one later,” you promise, “but for now let me wash your hair.” 

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf fanfiction #acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster

[krakensdottir]

Also something really important I want to point out about Aziraphale's religious trauma.

It's often framed as him being directly abused by Heaven, generally emotionally. And while I don't doubt he's been belittled at points - probably not by Gabriel, the iconic exemplar of the Toxic Positivity boss, but we know how Michael and Uriel etc. can be - it also seems like he's received quite a lot of praise and has generally managed to pull off the appearance of being A Good Angel, or at least a satisfactory one. I don't think, and this is controversial, but I don't think Heaven was usually overtly hard on him.

Because that's not how this kind of cult mentality usually operates. Instead, it teaches you to abuse yourself. Your overseers don't have to directly hurt or insult you if you're so ingrained with fear of failure by the culture you were brought up in that you constantly question yourself as not good enough.

It's not as... satisfying, I guess? As an external abuser being the main issue. But it's a lot more real. At least to me, because I suffered so much anxiety over being 'good' when I was a kid, and it wasn't from direct abuse. It was absorbed from the culture I was surrounded by. I picked it up by osmosis from society at large, and it tormented me. I worried, I doubted, there was a time I literally feared going to Hell. And I wasn't raised strongly religious. My mother certainly treated me as a Good Kid, and never gave even the suggestion that I wasn't. But I felt that way anyway. And it tore me apart. Because internalizing that shit makes it so much harder to fight.

And to be clear at this point, I am not saying Heaven isn't abusive. I just think the nature of its abuse is more subtle and insidious than it's often given credit for. And - this is even harder to accept, but it's true, and it's important - it's not just abusive to Az. All the angels are victims of it. Yes, even Gabriel. The moment he, one of the most powerful forces in Heaven, steps out of line, we see that no one is exempt. Never even mind Muriel, who is literally on the lowest rung of the Heavenly ladder and has probably never been told they're worth anything beyond being, you know, an angel, so at least you're better than humans and demons.

It's a contrast with Crowley, who has long since accepted most (not all, there are definitely some deep issues remaining, but they're nothing like Aziraphale's) of his internal doubts and struggles. His fears are almost entirely external. He doesn't beat himself up if he fucks up. He doesn't have to. There are people happy to beat him up for him. So when things go really bad for him, his instinct is to run. To get out of the way of harm as much as possible.

The fact that Aziraphale is harder on himself than anyone else could be is a vital part of his character. He self-punishes. He self-criticizes. He feels awful every time he breaks the rules in the slightest, even though he isn't usually caught at it. Crowley can find some safety in solitude if he keeps his wits sharp and his head down. Aziraphale can't, because he carries Heaven's conditioning with him at all times. He doesn't need oversight, it doesn't take external threats to keep him in line. You don't need direct threats when literally everyone in your celestial workplace has seen firsthand the consequences of rebellion.

I don't know if I'm making sense here. Again, this is informed by personal experience and I can't claim to be unbiased. But I see so much internalization with Aziraphale. He literally can't even accept praise without being nervous as hell, and I don't think it's fear of punishment or ridicule that's his primary motivation. He simply cannot ever be good enough for himself.

That's how they get you.

Anyway, I think it's why his reaction to disaster is the opposite to Crowley's, why he feels he has to turn and face it and somehow avert the horror (or, alternatively, find some way to reconcile it in his head and accept it - because let's be real, that's often what happens) rather than get himself away. He's less afraid of failing his superiors than he is of failing himself. And God, who is, objectively, the biggest abuser in the entire story.

#go s2 spoilers #good omens meta #aziraphale #this internalized stuff hurts so much #and it's SO much harder to shake than other forms of trauma #breaking free from heaven isn't just not easy - it's impossible until he finally accepts that HE isn't a failure for not fixing everything #and that's the part of him that crowley can't wrap his head around #tl;dr heaven's culture is abusive to all its angels and they manifest it in different ways #and aziraphale takes it harder than any other we've seen

[halemerry]

On Aziraphale, Protection, and the Greater Good

Alright folks. I’ve already written quite a bit about the ways the Metatron was trying to manipulate Aziraphale here, but I wanted to give credit where credit is due and talk a little bit about how I don’t think that necessarily means it worked nearly as well as the Metatron thinks it does.

Because Aziraphale? Is not stupid. It’s one of his defining traits that though he might occasionally be slow, he has always been intelligent. He has also always been a fighter. And a bit stubborn. And though the fact he is allowed to be all that and still stay soft is one of my favorite things about him, that does not mean he is soft and soft alone.

With or without Crowley, Aziraphale has nearly always been a character who, above all else, does what’s right. This is part of what Crowley loves about him and it’s part about what we as the audience love about him too. He shelters a demon on the wall he is meant to be guarding. He gives away a sword to humans and lies to God about it directly to Her face. He struggles immensely with being asked to do anything he cannot reconcile with his morals and, even if he might fight against his impulses as to what’s right for a little bit, when push comes to shove he almost always falls on the right side of that scale. It’s important especially that this is also true of him even without Crowley in the equation.

Now, Crowley makes it much easier for him to be this person. He encourages and enables Aziraphale to be himself. He complicates and challenges Aziraphale’s worldview but in a healthy way that helps him grow and develop it, but never forces Az to be someone he isn’t. He also, most importantly, gives Aziraphale someone he understands. He is a connection. And a connection that allows Aziraphale to take his time and to make the excuses he needs to, at least for a little while. Because he understands that while Aziraphale is slow to change, he is not as resistant to it as he often reads to be - especially when he thinks that change can benefit the greater good.

Because Aziraphale fundamentally loves Earth and the people on it. And he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Crowley does too. Not taking an opportunity he has to help someone has never sat well with him - even if that person is a naked Gabriel showing up on his doorstep. He does not run away with Crowley in season 1 because it would have been wrong to run away when he felt he could help and the same principle applies here too with the decision he comes to about the Metatron’s offer.

While I definitely think the Metatron was using lovebombing and other manipulation techniques on Aziraphale I highly suspect he is underestimating his new Supreme Archangel. And I highly suspect that what is happening here is not Aziraphale folding back into this own cult as much as much a few other things that could be happening.

I may poke around at a few more of these later but for now I want to focus on Aziraphale lied theory laid out here by @las-lus. This whole season has focused quite a bit on Aziraphale lying/using sleight of hand for Crowley's sake. It makes sense he would do this too to protect him from the Metatron and critically I don’t think it’s an accident that the only shot we get of his conversation with the Metatron are flashbacks from Aziraphale's narrative point of view. Reading this actually changed the whole trajectory of this meta so please take a look at it if you've got the chance! I really love this theory a lot and would've slapped this all on a reblog if it wasn't so big. (Though I'll be the first to admit I'm biased to anything that lets Aziraphale do some rescuing.)

At it's core this makes this action a protective one. He is a guardian given a flaming sword by God. He was built to protect. And we see him in this role throughout the series even if it's not always in the way we expect or in the way he was necessarily built for.

I want to start before the beginning. This scene is an important one for a lot of reasons, but for the context of this the important bit is that Aziraphale is already anxious. He’s a bit starstruck and a little baffled by the strange angel he’s stumbled into chatting with, but his primary focus in the meat of this scene is actually concern for this stranger's welfare. The instant the topic turns critical he immediately starts glancing around anxiously. This scene ends with him saying, "I'd hate to see you getting into any trouble." and giving us one of the most worried expressions I've ever seen on his face.

Then again at Eden, the first time we meet Aziraphale, we are shown him acting twice in a row for the sake of keeping others safe. We see him offer Crowley shelter from the storm and also give away his God given weapon to protect Adam and Eve. A lot of people tie Crowley to Eden for obvious reason but I think people often forget that, yes, without Crowley humans don't leave Eden but without Aziraphale they do not survive it.

We then see him in conflict over the Flood. As far as we know he doesn't act here but he quite clearly thinks it is wrong. He's high strung and tense and his attempts to rebuke Crowley's frustration feels more like him trying to convince himself.

Now we get to Job. This minisode is so fascinating to me for a lot of reasons because through most of it, against pattern, we have Aziraphale as the driving force throughout it. First we get Aziraphale checking in with Heaven to make sure there wasn't some official solution to this. (We also get a line in there that I think says a lot about Aziraphale's priorities when he specifically draws attention to his concerns for Sitis being old enough birth that many times would be hard and risky.) Once Heaven fails him here Aziraphale is the one to reach out to Crowley and Aziraphale is the one to press for them to work together. He takes a gamble, hoping that his instinct that Crowley does not want to hurt kids is accurate, and gets up in Crowley's face to challenge him when Crowley refuses to prove him right. It is not Crowley taking the lead here, bringing Aziraphale in but rather Aziraphale trusting his owns instincts are right.

Aziraphale is also crucially the one constructing the charade Crowley plays in front of the angels as Bildad the cobbler/midwife. Aziraphale immediately and without hesitation provides Crowley with the pieces he needs to make the lie convincing enough. He tells him that what they need is an expert on human births and Crowley rolls with it and then clarifies very quickly that Gabriel witnessed Eve's birth, signaling to Crowley that mimicking that would be the play.

He is trying to tip the scales to get the outcome he wants - to keep this family safe - before he ever utters a lie. And then he does. He lies directly, giving his word as an angel. This is an act that eats him alive inside. He literally thinks he has fallen for this and has perfectly resigned himself as being damned to Hell for it and does it anyway. Because he knows it was right. Because he thinks a family of five he has no real connection to are worth falling to protect.

By the time we hit the Globe in 1601 Aziraphale's primary objection to their Arrangement has evolved from concern about what Head Office will think into concern specifically for Crowley's safety.

Then in 1827, even if it's in a misguided way, his concern starts out on Elspeth and her soul. He tries to protect her and very quickly changes his tune as soon as he's given proper evidence that what she was doing was net good. Again he is the one driving most of this narrative and the duo's actions forward as Crowley drifts along trying to get him to see that some actions aren't fully good or bad but can exist in a moral gray space. We also get him verbalizing his own moral code here explicitly when he wants to heal Morag.

He continues to have concern for Crowley on the forefront of his mind - asking very quickly after his good deed for Elspeth if he's safe or if hell noticed and then a few years later denies Crowley holy water out of concern that it could destroy him.

In 1941 we first get him operating under cover trying to unsuccessfully lie his way into dispatching some Nazi. We then get him offering himself as a magician for Crowley's sake and using sleight of hand to keep evidence of their relationship from making its way to Hell.

In particular I want to draw attention here to the fact the episode we revisit this moment in has two very similar moments toward the beginning and end of it. This episode opens with what the episode is named for - Shax hitching a ride with Aziraphale. He's relatively amicable with her until she at one point implies harm to Crowley wondering out loud why he would risk destruction for Az. Then toward the end when Furfur enters the dressing room, Aziraphale is pleasant and kind until the moment it becomes clear Crowley is being threatened. In both cases his expression turns more neutral and his body language becomes more focused and serious. He is ready to protect at all costs and is done being polite to these people who threaten his demon.

From there we go to 1976. Here as he hears about Crowley's holy water heist, he makes a choice. Even though he does not want Crowley having this weapon at all and tells Crowley as much that that position hasn't changed he realizes how dangerous trying to steal it could be. So he decides to make it as safe as he can in the circumstance, putting aside his own wants and feelings for the sake of minimizing even potential harms.

Even good old 'you go too fast for me' is a form of protection here. Even if it hurts and even if it's not want they want they need at least one of them to pump the breaks to make sure they are not discovered.

Then the world nearly ends. I won't examine what happens there too closely but I think we can all agree Aziraphale was willing to do quite a lot to insure the world and Crowley were safe once Crowley gets him on board with raising Warlock. Though I do want to note I don't think it's an accident that a lot of what Aziraphale says to Crowley at the end of six has echos of the bandstand - the last event Aziraphale has to reference that he knew would make Crowley go away.

A lot of the core of the current season is built around all sorts of protective Aziraphale actions. The flashbacks all gesture at it in some capacity, and anther notable one is him sacrificing books both as weaponry and to make the ball happen. He has committed to securing their safety before a single demon even shows up looking for Gabriel. We also get him willingly risking war to defend the people in his shop. Episode six in particular shows us a lot of Aziraphale in this mode, which he's pretty much locked into from the moment the demons arrive, Whether it's protecting Gabriel, Nina and Maggie, or at one point putting his body between the demons and a whole crowd of people including Crowley.

This season is a season that emphasizes that Aziraphale is a liar. It is one that draws attention to him pulling tricks and on him learning to do that for the greater good. It it about him learning that sometimes the choices we make are often more morally gray than we would like. And most importantly it is about Aziraphale believing this world and the people in it are worth protecting.

And who does he want to keep safe more than anyone? Who did he fight to share his life with? It makes sense to me that he would do this for Crowley. It's perfectly in character and gives Aziraphale the due credit I think a lot of theories lack. Because, to me, Aziraphale isn't the one that walks away from Omelas, Aziraphale is the child who would willfully sacrifice himself to keep the people he loves safe.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens season 2 #gos2 spoilers #good omens meta #aziraphale

[mulansaucey]

Bat Wives Wine Night

AZRIEL X READER

This is my first thing I’ve put out to public eyes...ever. So please be nice. I had this idea for awhile and this is mostly a teaser to what I truly want to write. I want to make this a full imagine with smut. If you like this idea and want to see a spicier version to how this night ends please let me know. I’m always open to criticism and always looking for advice so as long as we are nice about it let me know what you think. Im gonna start writing more stuff and will be open to requests. Thank you and I hope you like this little teaser. 

PART 2:

WARNINGS: drugs and alch used responsibly, dirty thoughts by the bat boys

CONCEPT: The bat boys finally realize what their mates are up to on their top secret Wine Nights 

“Oh my gods…you’re right” Feyre softly said. 

     Feyre, Nesta, and I were sitting at the River House sipping on wine and enjoying what we call Bat Wives Wine Night when I had the realization that our husbands have had 500 plus years of experience and fun while us wives are in our 20’s being depressed and stressed for majority of our lives. This was unacceptable and not fair at all. We deserve to let loose and live a little. Go drink til we throw up, smoke mirthroot and tobacco as we pleased. To just be stupid, reckless teens. A night where we didn’t have to be perfect, just ourselves. We all looked at each other with understanding that our simple little wine nights just became a lot more fun. 

    “Okay ladies, once a month like we do now we keep letting our mates think we have wine, eat cheese on a platter and gossip. But let’s just go crazy, do whatever we want because we feel like it. Because we can. We’re young, hot, and rich. Let’s just be stupid, not enough to be dangerous but enough to have some memories to laugh fondly at just like our darling husbands. We are Bat Wives, I say we give them a run for their money.” I declare loudly watching my High Lady’s eyes light up with mischief (just like her mate). Nesta’s feline grin gave me the approval I needed from her. Thank the Mother our mates were not here to hear us declare our secret fun. 

    “Our mates will find out though, eventually. Cass is nosey, drills me on what happens on our Wine Nights. Such a gossip…” Nesta whispers the last part. 

    “Plus your mate is the Spymaster…” Feyre concludes by taking a sip of her wine. Yes he is, my beautiful, sweet, loving mate. Azriel. We’ve been married and mated for over a year now. I met him at a time when I swore off love at the nice age of 19 years old. But he was so kind and patient, building up our friendship first and making me feel seen as a person. He is a wonderful male and he had to fight many battles to get where he is today. But I am not Azriel, I’ve barely traveled out of my own court. Our perspectives can be quite different which I love but I want to create my own experiences as well. After the war, after almost dying I realized life can be taken from me at any moment and I want to spend those moments knowing I made good memories. That I lived. Even if it’s once a month with my sister in laws doing something as silly as smoking mirthroot. It’s something to ease the soul, bonding between just us girls. 

    “So what? Let’s see how long we can go til they figure it out. Make it a game, see how far we can go before they find out just how unhinged we are.” I giggle just a bit tipsy. The girls and I burst out laughing and start planning what we should do next month. 

*TWO YEARS LATER*

   Two years and counting. Our darling husbands STILL think we have a quiet night in with some books and snacks. It’s truly comical. It’s also nice to know something they don’t. 

“I’ll miss you.” Az murmurs in my hair, holding me til I walk into the River House front door. I tighten my arms around his waist and breathe him in. He takes a step back looking at me, love and adoration flowing through the bond between us. Az looks heart eyed, as if seeing me for the first time. I can’t tease him because I know for a fact I’m looking at him with the very same look. 

    “Can you guys just make out already so we can start drinking?” Nesta says unamused. I jumped back from Azriel, startled. When did she open the door? Nesta walks further away from us into a deeper part of the house. I turn back to find Az already looking at me. Something about Azriel is he is absolutely clingy in the best way possible. Physical touch and quality time are his love languages, any time we have to part it’s a bit dramatic because we simply hate saying goodbye. It’s the love I’ve always wanted. I love the Wine Nights as he has nights with his brothers to get away but nothings better than coming home and finding my place within his arms. 

    “If you ever wanna leave early just let me know and we can cuddle and I can go down on you.” Az’s cheeky grin showed proudly. I laugh while pushing him, he grabs my wrist playfully holding me to him. He brushes some hair from my cheek and presses his smooth lips to mine. We stand there for what feels like hours just feeling each other's breath mingle, when he glides his naughty tongue against my lips I pull away. Both us panting I say, “Go Az, before I actually ditch them for you.” I giggle. He very reluctantly peels his hands off my body and shoots up the sky with a wink, surely a promise of great fun when he picks me up tomorrow morning. 

        With the mating haze slowly leaving my brain a new found giddiness found its way in. We’ve started doing full on sleepovers instead of a few hours of mingling. That way we can return to the River House and clean up before our mates return to us. Truthfully it started after Feyre had way too many tequila shots and threw up for two hours begging us not to call for Rhys as our “cover” would be blown. I skip into the River House and take a look at my girls. 

    “Ready to fuck shit up?” I ask. “We’ve been ready, we were betting if you two would actually fuck on my front door.” Feyre says as fill her cups with wine, pregaming for later. Nesta laughs while grabbing my hand leading me into Feyre’s room. She has the biggest bathroom and closet for these occasions. We all start getting ready putting on our preferred style of makeup and clothing. Laughing loudly as we gossip about Beron’s hairline that keeps going further back as each year passes. We truly don’t know if it is but we all love roasting that horrible man. Once we are satisfied with our looks for the night we get ready to winnow to Veela, a club the IC doesn’t frequent too often. It’s newer and doesn’t have the huge crowd Rita’s does. It’s perfect, truly. We won’t run into anyone we know, not too crowded, but fun and rowdy. We pack the leftover mirthroot and tobacco from last month and winnow to the club saving us some time. We walk right in finding our usual table free in the corner. 

    “Let’s start with some shots ladies.” Nesta yells out heading to the bar, I’m a bit scared because Nesta’s choices in liquor are questionable at times. Feyre and I start people watching and laughing as we see the funny things the already drunk patrons are doing. I start rolling a blunt and a few j’s also a few cigarettes as I tend to want to smoke one after a good drink or two. Nesta comes back with the shots and our preferred mixed drinks in hand. We raise our glasses cheering for another successful Bat Wives Wine Night. 

    About an hour or so later we are tipsy, Nesta not so as she prefers to smoke mirthroot. Her struggles with drinking have lessened, she has a drink or two while she watches Feyre and I dance on tables. Nesta nursing a joint between her fingers swaying to the music she loved. Nesta says the plant helps her feel connected to it. Whatever, I don't care as long as we do what we want and feel safe doing it. I am a fan of both, I hop off the table and take the joint between my lips taking a long drag before exhaling into her mouth as we both giggle uncontrollably. Her red eyes meet mine, seeing Nesta relaxed and having fun is a privilege and I’m glad she feels safe enough to do so. We all love our mates but I think being with each other brings a new peace to our hearts. Sisters and friends, we are loved. For the first time in a long time we are loved. Her eyes widen, face slack as I laugh and turn I start coughing inhaling sharply as I see them. 

Our husbands. 

Our mates. 

Staring. 

    I gently pull Feyre off the table where she was dancing with two other fae, gently pushing her head to make her see what we see. Feyre chokes on her breath. 

“Shit…” Feyre mutters. Shit, indeed. 

*BOYS POV*

    Flying to the House of Wind, Azriel thought of his sweet mate. Years they’ve indulged their wives in their one night of secrecy. They deserved it, for being selfless and caring. Their mates have sacrificed a lot for them, for the Night Court. But they are busy bodies at heart, they can’t help but be curious. They love their wives, they just want to be included. Azriel lands on the balcony to see Cass and Rhys nursing a glass of whiskey. He walks in and pours himself a glass. 

    “Az, what do you think they do all night?” Cass says looking into his glass, pouting. Rhys looks unamused, Nesta probably told him off for being nosy. “Cass, they’re women. They drink their wine and dish about the new love interest in the books they read. Don’t think too hard you’ll hurt yourself.” Rhys chuckles as Cass throws a pillow at him. Rhys ducking slightly missing the pillow. 

    “I’m not but you know what I’m talking about. They smell like tequila and there’s traces of makeup and good perfume on them. Think about it, what do our mates truly get up to?” Cass says. Azriel sits and starts to think while Rhys and Cass get into it. Azriel the ever observant once couldn't have missed this right? He trusted his mate, knew she wouldn’t do anything stupid. Right? 

    Rhys stands after an hour or two of them not so obsessively tracking back to all the times they’ve had their Wine Nights. “Let’s go to the house now, we’ll say we forgot something. Catch them off guard.” He looks at the boys in confirmation. All their eyes light up in glee of possibly catching their mates doing something scandalous. But how they underestimate their wives is truly amusing. How they didn’t catch on after two years, even more so. 

    They set off for the River House when they landed there was silence. No giggling or tinking of wine glasses. Nothing. At first panic rushed in thinking someone hurt their mates but once they reached the master bedroom they saw clothes strung across the place, makeup and hair products messily sitting on the counter. The girls usual PJ’s on the floor. They went out.

     Cass scoffs, “I knew it! I KNEW THEY WENT OUT WITHOUT US! HA RHYS, I TOLD YOU!” he booms loudly, happy to be right and Rhys to be wrong. Azriel immediately makes a plan to find them, sending his shadows out. Once he gathered they were in the city they set their sights there. They went to Rita’s, not a trace. They searched restaurants and pleasure halls, Azriel questioning the staff there. They learned not only did they go out tonight but have frequented these places multiple times, without them. They were smart, Az gave them that. The girls used cash wherever they went instead of billing them, going as far as to use fake names and backstories when they would stop by the herb shop to purchase mirthroot and tobacco. Something they did not know their mates indulged in. For a second they questioned their mates, if they truly knew them. Now they for sure were set to find out answers. Azriel’s shadow reported to him they were across the city in a new club. 

    The music was pounding, drunk and high fae dancing or sitting and laughing. Azriel first spotted his High Lady and mate dancing on a table top, Feyre pouring tequila down his mate’s throat. Azriel couldn't lie, the sight made his pants tighten, seeing the hard liquor pouring down his wife’s very low top trickling onto her breasts. Watching her throat bob up and down, very similar sight to when she has him in her mout- “WHAT THE FUCK!” Rhys exclaims though it sounds more like a whisper compared to the very raunchy music booming in the background. Az notes that though Feyre lets loose at Rita’s and has fun, Feyre looks unhinged. As if she wasn’t the High Lady of Night but a 20 something year old who was having fun. Azriel laughed as he watched with his brothers, they stayed in the corner out of the way but still in eye sight of their girls. He watched his mate get off the table and steal the joint Nesta was nursing, blowing it in her mouth. Cass watches just as intently, in fascination and horniness. “I didn’t know they did THIS on their wine nights, I didn’t even know Nes smoked at all.” Cass says. He’s starting to wonder just how nice it would be to get Nesta this relaxed then fuck her for hours under smoke induced love making. Rhys is no better, watching Feyre swing her hips against the strangers around her. Wanting so badly to take her in the bathroom. But first it’s business. 

“Alright, brothers. They’ve had their fun now let’s crash.” Rhys said with a smirk. All together they marched towards their mates and stood waiting for them to realize. All had a mask of indifference though they really wanted to burst out laughing. One by one each girl’s head turned and paled. 

#acotar #acotar imagine #feyre x rhysand #cassian x nesta #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #acotar funny #azriel imagines #rhys #cassian #azriel #nesta #feyre

[burst-of-iridescent]

atla live action thoughts: season one review

first things first: anyone who says the Movie That Does Not Exist is better than the live action is straight-up lying. the shymalan film fails on the criteria of even being a decent movie, let alone an adaptation. the netflix series, for all its problems, is at least an enjoyable watch with great effects, music and (mostly) appropriate casting. there's absolutely nothing to compare here - the netflix version clears easily.

now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's delve into the series, starting with the positives.

the good:

visuals and cinematography. they really did a great job of making it feel like a fantasy universe you wanted to be in & i love how vibrant the saturation and colour grading was. it made the world feel so much more dynamic and alive instead of the same flat, boring dullness that so many movies and shows have these days. sometimes i didn't even mind that i was being fed obvious exposition because at least they were giving me something pretty to look at lmao

effects and action. the bending was surprisingly good for the most part, and they did a good job of making the elements feel unique through the stunt choreography and the actors' movements. i'm immensely thankful they didn't try to skimp on budget by merely cutting away from fight scenes or showing us as little as possible. almost all the action sequences were fast-paced and engaging, and i was never bored watching them

acting. the main four were all great, but gordon cormier and dallas liu have to be the standouts for me. gordon brings such an earnest, innocent sweetness to aang that you can't help but like him, and dallas plays all of zuko's facets perfectly: the angst, the explosive anger, the bratty snark, and especially the deep-rooted pain that characterizes so many of zuko's actions in book 1. the range he has, especially when flashing from younger to older zuko, was insane. special shoutout to maria zhang and sebastian amoruso as suki and jet respectively, because they killed it

music. leaves from the vine instrumental had me tearbending and i love how they kept the iconic avatar theme while making it a little darker for this iteration of the story. in general, the soundtrack felt very true to the animation while still being a fresh spin on it

zuko and iroh's relationship and expanding on zuko's crew. i think the fandom universally agrees that lu ten's funeral and zuko's crew being the 41st division were the best changes in the series, so i'm not going to talk about it further other than to say that these scenes show me what the show can be, and that's why i'm not giving up on it

the bad:

characterization. almost all the main characters are missing the little nuances that made them so great in the original, but the greatest casualty is katara. i hate that they took away so much of her rage, and gave many of her traits and struggles to sokka. i don't think this is a problem solely with the writing though, because certain lines do feel like things animated katara would say, but the directing and line delivery don't have the same punch that made her so fierce in the original. this is an easily fixed issue though, so i hope they take the criticism and let my girl be angry and fuck shit up next season

exposition. this was primarily a problem in depicting aang's personality and the relationship between the gaang, because a) why are you TELLING me that aang is mischievous and fun-loving instead of just showing me and b) the gaang do NOT feel like close friends, mostly because they spend so much time apart in every episode that they have little screentime to actually bond and develop intimacy.

lack of focus on the intricacies of bending. for a show whose tagline is "master your element" the characters spend very little time actually... mastering their element. zuko is never shown to struggle with firebending (which is going to have ramifications when it comes to developing his relationship with azula), and neither aang nor katara ever learn waterbending from a master throughout the the entire show. i'm pretty sure aang never willingly waterbends ONCE in the entire eight episodes, discounting the avatar state and koizilla. bending isn't just cool martial arts, it's closely linked to the philosophies and spirituality of each nation, and i wish that had been explored more.

pacing. they really needed to do a better job of conveying that time passed between episodes because an 8-episode season is just going to FEEL shorter than a 20-episode one. the original animation felt as though they'd truly been on a long journey before arriving at the north, but here it feels like the entire show happened in the span of a fortnight or so because each episode seemed to pick up right after the previous. they needed to have more downtime within episodes instead of just rushing from plot beat to plot beat because it made everything feel a lot more rushed. give the characters and story time to breathe.

final rating: 7/10.

overall, i would describe the live action as a better version of the percy jackson movies - not an accurate or perfect adaptation, but a decent story that's very fun to watch. but what really makes me root for this show to get a season 2 is that it has a lot of potential and more importantly, a lot of heart. it's evident that the people who worked on it do genuinely love and respect the original series, and it shows onscreen.

regardless of anything else, this show created opportunities for so many asian and indigenous actors, writers and creators to tell the kinds of stories and play the kinds of roles they don't usually get, and that's something worth supporting. if they take the criticism from this season and improve, i believe they really do have something special on their hands which - although it might not be the original we all know and love - could still be a story to be proud of.

#atla live action

[starsreminisce]

Antis saying with their whole chest "Azriel only wanting a mate is canon."

To Mor. His blood chilled. He wasn’t stupid. He knew she and Azriel were . . . whatever they were. Knew Azriel had been in love with Mor from the moment she’d strutted into the Illyrian war- camp five centuries ago.

“The issue, actually, wouldn’t be me. It’d be him. I could peel off my clothes right in front of him and he wouldn’t move an inch. He might have defied and proved those Illyrian pricks wrong at every turn, but it won’t matter if Rhys makes him Prince of Velaris - he’ll see himself as a bastard-born nobody, and not good enough for anyone. Especially me.”

“Azriel,” Rhys said, “has been preoccupied with the same female for the past five hundred years.” “Wouldn’t the mating bond have snapped into place for them if it exists?” Rhys’s eyes shuttered. “I think that is a question Azriel has been asking himself every day since he met Mor.”

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it.  "What if the Cauldron was wrong?"  Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?"  Azriel ignored the question. "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.  Rhys's face drained of color. "You believe you deserve to be her mate?"   Azriel scowled. "I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway." 

The reason why I can confidently say with my full busty af chest that Azriel only wants a mate is because of his entire relationship and history with Mor, and how he approached Rhys when he entered his office.

So when Azriel's question turned to Elain and Lucien, shifting the focus to something about the Cauldron being wrong (despite it being stated in HOFAS that the Cauldron doesn't determine mates), and when he ignored Rhys's inquiry about the female he had been in love with for 500 years to demand an explanation on how two brothers are with two of those sisters—keeping in mind that those two sisters are mates to his brothers—and why the third sister was not given to him, it tells me that he is solely fixated on finding a mate because that's what he reduced Elain to.

"Two of my brothers are mated to my sisters, and yet the third is mated to someone else," is what he essentially conveyed.

Azriel waited 500 years to reveal his feelings to Mor, even though she had shut down his very first confession. Why? Why would anyone wait that long?

If they were his mate.

Because he felt instantly attracted to her the moment she came into his life, because he was willing to risk entering another High Lord's territory to bring her back, because when the confrontation at Hybern reached a critical point where Mor's life was in jeopardy, he went to her—even when he was injured by an ashbolt. Even when Elain was brought out.

And we're told that those were signs of the mating bond.

But the only requirement that the Suriel asked of Feyre was, "He is the most powerful High Lord to ever walk this earth. You are … new. You are made of all seven High Lords. Unlike anything. Are you two not similar in that? Are you not matched?"

Mor and Azriel are not similar. They are not as well matched as Gwyn and Azriel, based on the little we see of Gwyn so far. And even then, we see Azriel treat Gwyn more like an equal than he ever did Mor or Elain.

Elain and Azriel are not similar. SJM even goes so far as to describe that Elain will stay by the sunniest of windows, while Azriel’s shadows don’t even venture out to the sun. These differences in their fundamental needs suggest that compromise or adaptation would be necessary for their relationship.

On the other hand, Azriel and Gwyn share similarities in their history, trauma, preferences for weapons, and affinity for spying, making them potentially better suited for each other.

Also, we have this from HOFAS. Badass Azriel would have said that he doesn't need one.

#antie/riel #gwynriel #acotar mating bonds #acotar mates

[tswaney17]

I Do Bad Things with You - Part 45

Back again, with a doozy of an update. I recommend grabbing a snack for this one. You'll be here for a while. 😅 This update does feature a torture session, so mind the trigger warnings. Only four parts and an epilogue left! Hope you like it! 💜💙💚

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Catch up here.

Credit to @featherymalignancy for Cassian’s nickname, Cash. 😘

Trigger warnings: violence, sexual assault , language, NSFW

Word Count: 11,274

Three days later, Emerie had the adoption process in full swing. Elain wouldn’t lie, having a multi-millionaire husband made people work fast. What should’ve taken weeks (or months to be honest) to get through, only took two days. They would be taking Kaden home that night for the first time so he could get settled, and would remain with them throughout the adoption process.

The hospital approved him to stay in the ICU in the meantime to avoid having to place him in a temporary foster home, a perk of her job, and having the chief of surgery vouch for her. Elain had been worried that with an unfamiliar place, his now-healing arm in a cast, and his fear of people, would negatively impact him. The hospital board agreed—though Elain assuring them that she and Azriel would pay for the board in full probably did something to help sway their decision. She understood why hospitals had boards for making decisions, but sometimes she thought they cared more about the money than their patients.

Azriel had taken the last two days off of work to prepare the spare bedroom for their newest addition—Elain helping to the best of her ability when she got off. Due to Kaden’s small size, he also needed a booster seat that was meant for somebody younger than him. She hoped that it wouldn’t be long before they got him to a healthier weight and could put him in something more appropriate for his age.

They still hadn’t told their family, wanting to wait till after they got the approval from social services when they completed their adoption interviews the following month, but they did let the Moonbeam twins know, seeing as they would be carting him and her to work most days. Kaden was going to temporarily join the daycare group at the hospital until they got him into school. Unfortunately, the year had already started, and they were elbow-deep in research for the best ones in the area to enroll him in as soon as possible.

With the twins expected in four months, and now Kaden, it also meant they had to move—the penthouse no longer serving them and their growing family. Azriel had been in touch with his realtor to get the process started, and she hoped they had a new place and time to settle before the twins were born.

Her husband had some very specific requests for their new home security-wise, and she couldn’t disagree with any of his suggestions. They were going to lose the safety the penthouse provided with combo locks and front lobby staff twenty-four-seven. The first thing Az had requested was something gated, preferably away from others, and large enough to host their entire family in spare bedrooms. He would be able to add in the additional security, but this was the foundation of what they were searching for.

To put it lightly, they were running around like crazy trying to get things in order.

Elain was eternally grateful for her husband who could drop everything to take care of things. Perks of being the CEO, she chuckled to herself. He was going to meet her here later on that evening to pick her and Kaden up, wanting to be the one to bring him to the penthouse for the first time.

Finding that Kaden loved being read to, they had already put together a full bookshelf in his bedroom filled with books of various sizes and reading levels, along with too many stuffed animals, a boatload of other toys, and, of course, clothing. They had stocked up on items for him to last through the next year, even with the possibility of him growing.

Elain was sitting next to his hospital bed, reading him a story about giving a mouse a cookie. She was nowhere near the level of enthusiasm that Azriel had provided when he read “The Three Little Pigs” the other day, but Kaden was enamored by her nonetheless.

A commotion at the children’s ICU front desk caught her attention and she glanced up to find a man in a suit shouting at the nurses, looking agitated, furious, and threatening.

She knew who it was immediately, snatching her phone from the front pocket of her scrubs and shooting a text to the Moonbeam twins.

SOS. Children’s ICU level 3. Now.

Her fingers stroked Kaden’s plump cheek. “I’ll be right back,” she whispered, setting the book down on her chair and striding from the room. Elain closed the curtains, shielding Kaden from view before sliding the glass door shut.

But it was too late. He had seen her and the boy and was stalking his way over to them.

Elain’s back straightened as she lifted her chin, meeting him head-on just outside the room.

“Give me my son,” he snarled.

“You mean the boy that has been here for three days and you’re just now coming to claim?”

He flicked his hand, far too close to her face for comfort but she refused to flinch. “I’m here to collect him.”

Elain’s anger flared, but she reined it in, not wanting to give him more of a reason to react violently. “If you want him, you will have to go through child protective services. Because I am not releasing him to you.”

His tanned skin flushed at her comment, his rage rising to meet her challenge. “He is my son—”

“Blood doesn’t make you a father,” she snapped.

Those green eyes took her in, narrowing to slits. “You’re the bitch trying to steal him from me.”

The breath rushed from her lungs. How did he know they were trying to adopt him?

Lorenzo’s mouth curled up in the corner with a cruel smile. “Move, the fuck, out of my way.”

He shifted to his left and she countered, stepping to her right. “No.”

His gaze snatched down her body, taking in her swollen stomach before returning to her face. “If you don’t move, I’ll make you regret it.”

Elain’s heart pounded in her chest, but like hell was she letting him anywhere near her son. Kaden was hers and Azriel’s and this pathetic excuse of a man wasn’t ever getting near him again. “Touch me and I can guarantee you’ll be in a body bag by the end of the week,” she breathed. In her peripheral, she saw Fenrys and Connall jog from the elevator, spotting her across the room. Elain swung her eyes back on Lorenzo’s face. “You’re nothing but an abusive monster and if you want to try and take him, you’ll have to go through me.”

The man swung, palm open to crack across her face.

But a golden-tanned hand snatched it around his wrist, halting him just inches from her cheek, the breeze fluttering the loose hairs over her ear.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Fenrys deep voice purred. “Her husband wouldn’t like it.” Though he sounded amused and wore a slight smirk on his face, Elain saw the darkening of his eyes. A cold look of a predator waiting to pounce.

Connall wore a similar mask, standing so close to Lorenzo’s other side that any large breath would have his chest brushing against his shoulder.

Both males had become not just good friends of hers, but rather protective too. Even more so since they found out she was pregnant. She knew that with them there, Kaden’s father couldn’t touch her.

Lorenzo glanced down at her name badge, pinned to the front pocket of her scrub top at her waist. His eyes widened in surprise as he took in that hyphenated last name.

Archeron-Knight.

Only a fool wouldn’t recognize that name, and if she was correct in her assumptions about who this man was or whom he worked for, then she knew he’d know immediately who her husband was.

She saw the recognition flash across his face; the hint of fear too before he quickly tried to cover it up with a sneer.

Elain wanted to slap the scorn off his face, but she settled on using her words instead. “Unless you get clearance from social services, you are hereby banned from entering this hospital and trying to reach Kaden. If you step foot in that lobby, I’ll be sure to have you thrown out.”

His nostrils flared furiously, but before he could respond, she looked at Fenrys and nodded toward the exit behind them. “Get him out of here.”

Connall gripped his other arm as they lugged him away, curse words falling from his lips faster than she could hear them.

Her heart raced beneath her ribcage at how close it came. He would’ve hit her to get to her boy had the twins not interfered. But Elain would’ve taken it if it meant protecting the little one behind her. Taking a few steadying breaths to slow her heart rate, she turned and slipped back into Kaden’s hospital room.

He was still awake, green and hazel eyes wide with fear. It was obvious that despite the closed door, he had heard his father’s voice.

“He’s gone,” she murmured, slowly approaching his side. “You’re safe with me.”

As soon as she sat on the edge of the bed, he curled into her side, little hands gripping her scrubs. “You stay wiff me?” he asked her in such a soft voice, she almost missed it.

Elain’s chest tightened at him finally speaking. At being comfortable enough to open up to her. She carded her fingers through his soft, inky hair. “Yes, sweetheart. I’ll stay with you.”

And she did, notifying Thesan to remove her from the rotation for the rest of the day while they waited for her husband to arrive that evening.

~~~~~

Blood sprayed, showering his torso in tiny, red droplets. He felt his knuckles split at last as he threw another punch into Elias’s jaw, tooth cracking.

Azriel withdrew into the darkest corner of his mind, the place he firmly kept buried deep and only brought to the surface when his fury needed a bloody and brutal outlet. It was the tainted part of his soul that was bred and honed into him as a child. Brought upon by fists and fire.

His father made sure of it.

So did his brothers.

When he delved into the monster, he felt nothing. Became nothing. He had to in order to inflict the pain, the torture, on those who crossed him. Az didn’t let himself think about her, about their growing family. He couldn’t taint their image with the cruel, twisted version of himself that he turned into.

No matter that the man deserved every single ounce of brutalized agony he delivered. Azriel had always used violence as a method for managing his anger. Some may have called it an “unhealthy coping mechanism,” but was truly the only outlet for his fury. It was the reason why he and Cassian would spar as teens, his elder brother the only one of the two who could really throw down with him when he needed to release his pent-up rage.

As an adult, he didn’t let himself cross that bridge too often—at least not anymore—but it was even less so since she had reentered his life. For her, he tried to be a better man, wanted to be, and typically let Ruhn handle the dirty side of things.

But not for this. Not after what he did to his wife. Tried to do to his unborn children. Those acts were unforgivable and Elias would pay for it with his life.

Eventually.

The man spat it on the floor, grinning savagely up at him, despite the fact that he was tied to a chair in an abandoned warehouse and hours from death. “Is this how we end things, Azriel? You kill me to satisfy some sick fantasy?”

It had taken Ruhn a while to finally track down Elias’s hiding spot. Some secluded cabin way out of the city. But once he finally caught the trail, he tailed him like a rabid dog until he captured him for good.

He readjusted the sleeve of his right arm, pushing it back up to his elbow. His scarred fingers stained red. “Oh, Elias, how blindly imprudent you are,” he taunted, throwing another punch and nailing him square in the nose.

To Elias’s credit, he didn’t yell or shout, simply hissed, spitting more blood onto the tarped ground.

“This isn’t some fantasy. This is revenge for what you did to my wife. You signed up for this the first time you put your filthy hands on her.” Az grabbed a knife off a nearby crate, flipping it once between his thick fingers. “You will beg for death before I grant it to you,” he snarled, embedding the blade into the top of his thigh.

This time, Elias did scream, fight it as he might, the pain, the surge of blood were too much for him to hold back. His head tilted back in agony as Azriel yanked the dagger out and plunged it into his other leg.

Elias’s body tensed, fighting the restraints that would never give, as he sucked in heavy, rasping breaths. “We were supposed to have been partners,” he wheezed between clenched teeth.

“No. I was forced into a partnership with your uncle. Not you. I gave you a way out and you chose to throw my generosity in my face.” His lips curled up slightly at the corner in a sinful smirk. “Your downfall is on you, Elias. You have nobody to blame but yourself.”

The dimmed fire reignited in those dark eyes at his words. “Your slut is to blame,” he spat with a renewed vengeance.

Quick as a flash, Azriel had his large hand wrapped around the man’s throat, squeezing until Elias’s face turned an ungodly shade of red. His body twitched under the force, but Az didn’t give in an inch as he struggled and fought to breathe. Leaning forward until his lips were nearly touching his ear, he whispered, “If I were you, I would choose your words very carefully. Nobody refers to my wife in such a manner without consequence.” The smirk turned sinister as he watched Elias turn from red to purple. “It’s not so fun being on the other side of this, is it?” he mocked, knowing how Elias put his soiled hands on his wife’s neck, bruising her pale flesh for almost two weeks.

He tightened his hold, squeezing the thrashing man with a sick vengeance. He could’ve easily snapped his hyoid. Literally choke him to death. But that wouldn’t have been satisfying enough and only released his throat when he was on the verge of passing out.

Elias choked on his air, coughing with the might of his lungs. “Your fucking bitch,” he wheezed with as much venom as he could muster.

Ripping the dagger still protruding from his thigh, Azriel gripped his hand and twisted the index sideways until a distinctive snapping sound echoed in the warehouse. Pressing the blade into the joint, he began to cut, severing skin, tendon, and bone.

Hands flexing beneath his grip, screams tore from Elias’s mouth, loud enough that Az was surprised his voice hadn’t given out. Maybe he should’ve shattered that when he crushed his windpipe; at least then he could’ve had some peace and quiet. But he didn’t stop until he dropped the amputated digit onto the floor in the pooling blood that stained the bottom of his dress shoes red.

He moved to Elias’s other side, intending to even out his hands when the ringing of a phone cut through the air. His eyes flashed to Ruhn, leaning on the wall while letting him exact his revenge.

Ruhn pulled Az’s phone that he’d been holding onto out of his pocket. “It’s Connall.”

He stuffed a gag into Elias’s mouth, effectively silencing him before wiping his hands on a rag and taking the phone from Ruhn’s outstretched hand. “Connall,” he said in lieu of a greeting.

“Azriel,” he started. “I’m glad I caught you. There’s been a situation.”

His heart plummeted into his stomach. “Is Elain okay? Is she hurt? What about Kaden?”

“Everyone is fine and safe. We had an unexpected visitor today.”

His eyes flashed to Ruhn, though he knew the other man couldn’t hear the conversation. “Who?” he gritted out.

“Kaden’s biological father, Lorenzo, showed up and caused a scene. We’ve removed him from the premises, but I thought you ought to know.”

Another name to add to his list. Azriel swore if one more person went after his wife or family, he was going to lose his shit and rain hellfire on this fucking world. “Did he lay a hand on either of them?”

The very distinct pause had another blood-thirsty sense of fury washing over him. “No,” Connall finally admitted. “He attempted to strike her, but Fenrys caught his arm before it connected. They are both physically unharmed, though by the way she’s comforting Kaden, it appears he may not be emotionally or mentally.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ll be in this afternoon to pick them up—Kaden is coming home with us today. Until I get there, I want at least one of you stationed outside of his room and the other monitoring Elain.”

“Already done. Elain informed us that she has requested the rest of the day off and is sticking by his side. We’re posted on either side of his door. Nobody in or out that’s not approved by her.”

The twins deserved a raise, he realized, noting that detail for later. “Thank you, Connall. For the update and keeping them safe. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Always, Azriel.”

The line went dead and he had to take a breath to settle himself. Too many emotions had risen to the surface and he needed to separate himself again to finish what he started. But as he turned to face Elias once more, his overwhelming need to make him suffer hours—if not days—of torture vanished.

He didn’t need to torture the man. Az just needed him dead. “It’s your lucky day, Elias,” he said, striding over to rip the gag from his mouth. “My desire to torture just took on a new face.”

Some sick satisfaction swept over him at the hope that lit Elias’s dark eyes. Because he knew the man thought Azriel was going to let him go, and he was about to rip that dream of freedom right out from underneath him. “Which means, your life has served its purpose.”

True terror blanketed Elias’s face and before he could even voice a shout, Azriel snatched the dagger from the crate where he left it and slashed it across his throat.

Elias choked on his blood, drowning in it as it poured from his lips.

Dropping the knife on the ground, he turned his back on the dying man and told Ruhn, “Bury him on top of his uncle. So, the beginning and the end of their regime can meet in death.”

He left the warehouse without another word, letting Ruhn handle the cleanup and dealing with the body.

As the sunlight warmed his skin on his walk to his car, Azriel released the mask of his inner demon and summoned his true self back into its place. The man who loved his wife and their growing family. He let out a heavy breath, breathing out all of the darkness from his soul. Climbing into the car, he drove away from the warehouse and did not look back. 

~~~

Azriel had done his research in the short time since deciding to proceed with the adoption, needing to know what they would face by taking in Kaden. Lorenzo was, in fact, a part of the Illyrian Mob, though he wasn’t ranked high. He had about three superiors before he reached Nick, let alone Frankie. His death wouldn’t even cause a stir in their pyramid of power.

A kernel of knowledge he kept in the back of his mind because that’s what he signed up for when he went after Elain and Kaden. His death by Az’s hands. Another stain on his blackened soul, but he would taint it for her. For them. He’d carry the weight of the world if it kept his wife and family safe.

But that would come at another time. Right now, he had to focus on the boy they would be bringing home that night. He pulled into a parking spot outside the hospital and climbed out of the car. He and Elain spent the morning installing the booster seat in the back for Kaden before she left for work, and he did a last-minute glance over to make sure everything was ready. Snatching the small backpack filled with proper clothing inside, Azriel strolled into the front lobby of the hospital.

He took the elevator up to the third floor, nodding at the Moonbeam brothers who stood guard outside of Kaden’s room and knocked on the door.

Elain waved him in with a smile on her face as she got up off the stool to greet him. “Hello, Az.” She swooped in for a sweet kiss, his hand automatically settling onto her rounded stomach.

“Hello, my love,” he grinned, leaning forward for another small peck of her lips.

Her eyes glanced down at the hand cradling her belly. Her fingers grazed the fresh wounds that littered across his knuckles. “What happened?”

Azriel twisted his wrist to grip her palm, bringing it up to plant a soft kiss there. “Just work stuff.”

She frowned but didn’t ask him to elaborate. Elain was intelligent and could easily guess how he split his knuckles. But she knew better than to bring it up in front of their little boy, who was watching them closely.

Knowing that he came from a rough home, they made sure to show their affection to each other in his presence, wanting him to know that he was joining a loving home.

Azriel looked around her shoulder, smiling at Kaden sitting on the bed. “Hello, Kaden. I brought you something to wear.” He stepped forward, unzipping the backpack and pulling out a pair of pants, a long-sleeve shirt, socks, and sneakers, that he hoped fit him.

Elain moved to shut the curtain, offering them some privacy as they helped change him from his hospital gown to street clothes. “I’m going to put your bear in your backpack to take him home, okay?” she said, showing him the stuffed toy being placed in the dinosaur backpack.

Kaden’s dark hair rumpled when he tugged the shirt over his head and Az couldn’t help but chuckle as it fell into his eyes. He’d need a haircut soon.

His little hand rose to push it back, but a shy smile tugged on his lips.

Azriel felt his heart soar from that smile. He hadn’t been offered one yet, but spending the last few days here with him had helped tremendously. Kneeling, he helped put his shoes on, tying the laces, and then carefully lifted him off the bed and onto his feet. “Shall we go home now?” he asked.

Kaden immediately took Elain’s offered hand, but he was surprised when he felt small fingers wrap around his pinky. Azriel looked down to find the boy staring up at him.

Every single worry he had about this kid not accepting him as his father vanished from that moment on. He was his, no matter his blood, and Az would do anything to keep it that way. Nobody was ever going to take his son away from him and Elain.

He pushed the curtain aside and opened the sliding glass door, tugging his little family into motion. The Moonbeam brothers fell into step behind them, always guarding their backs but now with even more reason and focus. Azriel had seen the way they stepped up in their protection detail since Elain had gotten pregnant, and he knew that their dedication would extend to Kaden tenfold.

They rode down the elevator in comfortable silence, a pleasant hum running through his body. Viviane looked up at them when they made it to the nurses’ station, a smile pulling on her lips and she clapped Elain on the shoulder as they passed.

At the car, he kissed his wife’s cheek, murmuring for her to get in as he lifted Kaden and strapped him into the booster seat. He ruffled his hair with a large, scarred palm, catching that green-flecked gaze.

Closing the door, Az dismissed Fenrys and Connall for the weekend before climbing into the driver’s seat.

“What’s for dinner tonight?” Elain asked, turning to look at the boy in the back.

Azriel glanced in the rearview mirror, watching as he took in the sights around him. “Steak with mac and cheese,” he said out loud, pulling out of his parking spot.

She rubbed a hand over the swell of her stomach. “One baby agrees with that decision very much.” Her light laughs echoed in the car, and he reached over to feel the hard kick from one of the twins.

A little fighter, that one was.

Elain’s cravings had varied throughout the pregnancy. In the beginning, she wanted nothing but carbs. Then she was into Mexican, and Az spent a lot of time making bean and cheese burritos at two in the morning when she woke up hungry. But right now it was barbeque. Steak was his go-to, but last week, she was dipping chicken breast into frosting because, apparently, it was sweet and savory. He had to hide his disgust over the last one, but the image of her utter happiness while eating it brought a smile to his lips.

When they made it to the penthouse, Azriel immediately went to light the barbeque and put the mac and cheese in the oven while Elain gave Kaden a tour of the downstairs living area. Once finished, they walked him up the stairs to her old bedroom where he would temporarily be staying until they bought a new place. “This is your room, Kaden,” he said, opening the door and allowing him to slowly shuffle his way in.

Green and gold eyes went wide at the outrageous display. To be fair, he and Elain might have gone a bit overboard on things to buy, but they wanted to make sure Kaden felt at home and well-loved.

Az had put together two bookshelves against the far wall that were nearly overflowing. A rocking chair sat with them so that they could read together in the evenings before bed. A basket full of stuffed toys sat in the corner, and a large shelving unit was placed next to the dresser and contained everything from a dinosaur set to blocks to racecars.

They had decided to keep the queen-sized bed in there for now, not having had the time to replace it, nor wanting to. So, they purchased kid sheets instead, with a cartoon character on them that he couldn’t remember at the moment.

Truthfully, the bedroom looked like it belonged on the cover of a home décor magazine, but their only concern was comfort.

Kaden glanced up at them, waiting for permission.

“Go on,” Az encouraged him with a gentle nudge on his back.

The little boy ran for the boxes on the shelves, opening the tubs they had organized before sliding them back. He then took off for the plush toys, digging around until he found a stuffed dog.

The squeal he let out had warmth flooding his body and Az turned to share a look with his wife, whom he could tell was experiencing the same kind of utter joy.

Kaden stopped at the bookshelves, roaming the selection before he carefully placed his dog on the rocker and then ran back to them. He threw his arms first around Elain’s legs, making her choke out a sob, and then carefully around his, almost as if nervous to show affection towards him.

Az’s throat grew thick with unshed tears and he crouched to put himself at eye level, holding out his arms to see if he would embrace him.

The little one hesitated for a second before he slowly stepped into his chest and wrapped his arms around his neck. Azriel held him tightly to his body. Felt the heaviness of his worries that this boy wouldn’t accept him disappeared within that embrace.

“We’re happy to have you home with us, buddy,” Azriel whispered, pressing his lips to the side of his son’s head.

His son.

The words hadn’t hit him until that very moment. But as he clutched that little body to his torso, he realized how right it felt to think it. To say it.

Elain sniffed, carding her fingers through Kaden’s soft hair. “Go play, sweetheart. We’ll come to get you when dinner is ready.”

Azriel released him, letting him toddle off back for the assorted containers. He stood back up and wrapped an arm around her waist as they watched him a moment longer explore his new bedroom. “Come on, let’s get you changed.”

Though it was obvious that both of them wanted to stay, they also agreed to give Kaden some space to settle in, so it didn’t feel like they were hovering over him.

Elain padded to their bedroom to swap into some comfier clothes while he went back downstairs to throw the steaks onto the barbeque. They busied themselves in the kitchen, listening to Kaden’s imagination run wild up the stairs. Though not loud, it was something they both kept sharing shy smiles over.

“He seems to love it,” she breathed.

He looked over at her. “You did well in picking out stuff for him. I don’t think I would’ve had any of the right toys.”

Elain laughed softly, brushing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’ll get better at it as you grow into your role as a father.”

They harmoniously worked together to finish prepping dinner, basking in their contented silence—it wouldn’t be long until the silence became a rarity for them—and it wasn’t until a distinct crashing sound had him racing up the stairs, two at a time.

Az threw open the bedroom door.

Kaden whipped around, looking guilty and nervous at the blocks knocked onto the floor. It was clear he had accidentally dropped the container as he pulled it off the shelf.

His son slowly took a step back, like he thought he was in trouble. The evident fear made his stomach clench, sorrow and range dancing through him at the mere thought of somebody harming this child for making any sort of sound.

Elain gripped his shoulder and he glanced at her, seeing that same worry on her face.

He turned back toward the little boy, hoping to calm him. “Are you all right?” Az asked carefully.

A minute passed, then another until finally, they received a silent nod in confirmation.

“We thought maybe you got hurt,” he tried explaining. “You’re not in trouble.”

Those shoulders relaxed slightly.

How often did he get hit or shoved or yelled at, simply for being a kid? It made his heart ache and his blood boil for vengeance on Kaden’s biological father. That man had a limited number of days before Az sought him out.

“Dinner will be ready soon, sweetheart,” Elain cooed, offering him a sweet smile that seemed to provide him some semblance of ease. She gently closed the door and they both paused, holding their breath to see if he would continue playing. After a moment’s hesitation, they heard a car being rolled across the hardwood floor.

She gripped his hand, tugging him down the stairs. “It’ll take some time to adjust to his every sound, but I think we can hold off on running up the stairs whenever he makes a peep,” she teased, shooting him a grin over her shoulder that didn’t touch her eyes. Because she knew as well as him the horrors their little boy faced in his short lifetime already.

Az sighed more to himself than anyone else. “After everything he’s been through, I can’t help but want to make sure he’s okay, one hundred percent of the time.”

“That’s fatherhood calling you, Azriel. Our kids are going to get scrapes and bumps and bruises. That’s just a part of childhood. The best we can do is just make sure we’re there to bandage them up and kiss away the hurt.”

He stopped her, turning her around to kiss her softly. She melted into it. “You are my rock, El.”

Her breath teased his lips as she looped her arms around his neck, securing him to her. “And you’re mine.”

Azriel felt those words settle into his heart and spread all over his body. Warmth and love and the undying faith that he knew to be true. Together, they could take on the world.

~~~~~

The next few weeks had been a blur. Kaden blossomed under their care, speaking to them in a quiet voice, though they could tell he was a bit behind in his speech. They hired a speech therapist who worked with him three days a week after school. Kaden loved school, even if he was shy with the other kids, and they did find out he’d never attended one before, which also explained his developmental delays. He mostly kept close to his teacher, who had been informed of his past and fears, but a few of the kids in his class kept trying to engage with him and only the day before were they informed that he accepted an invite to play with one of the other children.

After dinner, they’d each take turns reading to him and with him, hoping to help catch him up to his classmates. Both Kaden’s teacher and speech therapist had recommended it, and she and Azriel would do everything in their power to help their boy succeed. And though he was calling them by their given names now, they were working toward momma and daddy.

It was progress, Elain had said one night. “Every day, I see a little bit more of the boy he’s supposed to be.”

There were a few rough challenges they had to handle. About a week and a half into living with them, Kaden woke up late evening with a nightmare. Elain didn’t think she would ever forget it…

Azriel was on his side, head propped on his fist as he spoke to her belly. It was something he did every night, wanting the babies to hear his voice as much as possible. Sometimes he read them stories, sometimes he sang, and other times he just told them about his day and how much he couldn’t wait to meet them. Whatever it was, Elain always had to choke back tears at the love and joy that shone on his face when he talked with their children.

It was nearing eleven o’clock when they heard Kaden’s desperate scream.

Her husband launched out of bed, tearing down the hallway to reach their son’s bedroom. Elain hurried behind him, though her waddling—yes, she was fucking waddling now—slowed her down a bit. When she reached his room, Az already had Kaden’s crying form tucked into his chest.

“You’re okay, Kaden. You’re safe. Nobody will ever hurt you again,” he murmured, pressing kisses to the top of his head. His golden eyes met hers, blazing with a fury she only saw when his family was threatened. “Love, can you get some clean sheets out?”

Her brows raised in surprise, but with the hallway light on, she could see the dark stain on the bed where their son had wet himself from fear. Elain’s heart ached, but she nodded, slipping to the cupboard just outside the door and pulling out new linens.

She set the bedding on the dresser and then headed into the bathroom to start the water in the tub. “I’ll trade you,” Elain said, indicating for the child.

With one last kiss on his head, Azriel placed Kaden into her arms and began stripping the bed of its soiled sheets.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.” She rubbed his back in comfort, hoping it would slow the tears still rolling down his red cheeks. Once he calmed down enough, Elain helped him out of his pajamas and got him into the bathtub.

As she was gathering his clothes from the floor, he asked her, “Is Azweel going to punish me?”

Her head snapped up, catching Azriel in the mirror whirling around in shock at the question. She could read the devastation on his face. The hurt of being associated with that monster. Knowing she had to carefully address this, Elain knelt by Kaden at the edge of the tub. “No, sweetie,” she murmured, running a hand through his soft hair. “Azriel isn’t going to punish you, sweetheart. It was an accident.”

It became clear that this wasn’t the first time Kaden had an accident and received corporal punishment for it. A level of anger she’d never felt before kindled in her gut as Kaden’s bottom lip quivered.

Gathering his clothes, she stepped out of the bathroom, finding the bed already remade, and Azriel standing there looking as if he’d been slapped.

“He thinks I’m going to punish him?” he asked in disbelief.

But that wasn’t quite right. “No, he believes that he will be punished for an accident because he likely has been before. You are stepping into the role of his father, Az. It’s going to take some time for him to see the difference in how you respond to things versus the man who sired him. He will see it, though. I promise you that he will.”

Az chewed on his bottom lip, a habit he did when he was anxious about something. “Should I go in there?” he worried.

“I think it’s important that you do.”

He nodded, picking up the clean sleepwear for his son, and stepped into the bathroom.

Elain tossed the soiled pajamas into the hamper before leaning against the wall, just outside the bathroom to listen to her husband.

“Hey, buddy. You ready to get out now?” Azriel kept his voice whisper-soft, not wanting to give Kaden anything to worry about.

Water sloshed and she heard the distinct sound of the drain popping.

“I heard you ask momma if I was going to punish you…” there was a pregnant pause and she held her breath for the rest of that sentence. “No matter what, Kaden, I will never punish you like that. Whatever happens, I promise you that you won’t ever have to fear me, okay? I love you so much, Kaden. And I will always, always protect you.”

A wave of tears washed over her, rolling down her cheeks. Damn hormones. She glanced into the bathroom, catching Kaden as he slipped his arms around Az’s neck, hugging him tightly.

Her husband rose to his feet, still clutching their son in his arms. He turned, catching her watching them, and shot her a pleading look.

Elain knew what he was asking her for. Could read his desire to continue holding his son. So, she reached out a hand for him. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

They walked back down to their bedroom, Az lying down on his back so Kaden could sleep on his chest. Elain snuggled in next to him, her hand rubbing up and down their son’s spine until he drifted off into a deep, peaceful sleep.

“You’re good with him,” she whispered.

“We’re good with him,” he amended. “I don’t think I could let him go, now.” He left the rest unspoken. How, if social services didn’t approve of the adoption, they would fight until their dying breath to change their minds. Because like hell were they letting anyone take their boy away.

But she didn’t doubt that they would be seen as the best thing for Kaden. And she would use that confidence to power through their interview which could change their lives forever.

Much like the little boy sleeping on her husband already had.

Elain blinked, drawing herself from her memory. They were on their way to the adoption interview, and though she had confidence that this would go their way, it didn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in her stomach from her nerves.

Almost as if he could sense it, a large, scarred hand reached across the console to squeeze her knee. Az glanced at her once before returning his eyes to the road. His touch instantly soothed the anxiety running through her.

“Ewain,” Kaden called from the backseat.

She twisted her head to look at him over her shoulder. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Can we get ice cweam?”

Azriel let out a chuckle as she smiled at the little boy. “I think we can do that after the interview.”

“Yay!” he cheered, throwing his arms into the air and kicking his feet wildly in his booster seat. Despite fall having rolled in a few weeks earlier, summer had yet to lessen it’s hold on the city and a cold bowl of ice cream did sound appetizing.

At that, her husband laughed, deeply and so full of love as they pulled into the parking lot of the social services office. Azriel collected Kaden from the back who grabbed both of their hands, nearly swinging between them as they walked into the building.

“Mr. and Mrs. Archeron-Knight. Welcome,” a woman said from behind the front desk. “Please follow me.” She escorted them to the back into a private room. Half of it was set up with a couch, desk, and two chairs, while the other half was clearly designed for children, including a small table with coloring utensils and a cubby holding various toys. “The interviewer will be in shortly. Please make yourself comfortable.”

They moved to sit on the couch together, Az gripping her elbow to ease her down. The joys of being pregnant with twins.

“Can I go pway?” Kaden asked, shooting them those puppy-dog eyes that neither could resist. They were definitely in for trouble with that face.

“Of course,” she told him, brushing a curl behind his ear.

He went straight to the table, grabbing a coloring book and some crayons to occupy himself, humming lowly while his feet swung beneath his chair. Kaden had a love of art; something his Aunt Feyre would go nuts for.

“We’ll have to get him more coloring supplies,” Azriel murmured, pressing his lips to the side of her head.

A knock sounded from the door before it was opened, revealing a young woman with dark hair braided back, and a beautifully tanned complexion that could only be from her heritage.

She smiled brightly at them. “Hello Azriel and Elain. My name is Nesryn. It’s lovely to meet you both.”

At the sound of a new voice, Kaden’s head whipped up and he quickly made his way back over to them, wiggling to place himself between their bodies.

Her brows raised in response to his shyness.

“Kaden is still a bit uncomfortable with strangers,” Elain said, running her hand along his back as he buried his face into her torso. “We’re taking it slow in introducing him to people so he doesn’t feel overwhelmed.”

Nesryn’s lips turned up at the corner. “I can’t say that’s entirely a bad thing, or surprising for that matter given his history.” She took a seat opposite of them, using the table as a buffer between her and their son. “I took a look through his file and, frankly, the number of past injuries is highly concerning. I know that Emerie was originally on his case, and she will be conducting his interview because I believe she may have a better chance at working with him but given her close relationship with you, Elain, she’s asked me to conduct your interviews to prevent any biases.”

She nodded. “I think that’s fair.”

Flipping open the file in front of her, Nesryn leaned back in her seat and asked, “So, why do you want to adopt Kaden?”

They shared a look before Azriel responded. “To put it point blank, he’s our son, without a doubt.”

“When Kaden was first brought into the hospital, I connected with him instantly,” Elain added. “He seemed timid with the nurses and other doctors, but with me, he relaxed. I knew from that initial meeting that he was brought into our lives for a reason. Even with his nervousness around men, he opened up to Azriel fairly quickly too. Almost as if he knew he could trust us to love him.”

Nesryn nodded, noting something down in her file. “And how has he progressed with you since he’s been living with you?”

“He’s communicating with us, will tell us what he wants to eat, and asks if he can do something. His food intake is good and I can see he’s beginning to put on some healthy weight,” Az explained. “He’ll sit with us as we read bedtime stories and let us kiss him goodnight.”

She smiled. “It sounds like you have a solid routine for him, would you agree?”

Elain tucked her foot behind her ankle. “Yes. We try to keep a set schedule with him as much as possible. Dinner time, bedtime, when we wake him up to get ready for the day.”

“How’s he sleeping?”

Azriel glanced at her, a question in his eyes and she nodded. “There was an incident the first week. He woke up one evening with a nightmare so terrifying for him that he wet the bed.” Nesryn’s brow cocked, but she didn’t interrupt. “We comforted him, cleaned him up, and put new sheets on his bed, but it was a question he asked that concerned us…”

“What was the question?”

He sighed, lips parting. He hated having to admit this, but it was important to be honest with the social worker. They had discussed whether or not to talk about that night earlier and decided if it was brought up, then they would. “He asked Elain if I was going to punish him.”

Nesryn noted that down and he fought the hackles that rose as a result. “Did you punish him?”

The question caught him off guard. “No! Of course not. He didn’t do anything wrong and I would never punish him in the way he was asking.”

“What way is that?”

“We believe corporal punishment was used on him in instances like this,” Elain spoke up, seeing how the question twisted at Az’s insides. “After he asked me that, Azriel went to speak with him and reassured him that he would never punish him like that. That he would always protect him.”

The woman smiled. “That was probably the best thing you could’ve offered him at that moment.” She turned her dark eyes onto her husband. “I don’t ask these questions to pry or to insinuate anything, Azriel, but just to get a feeling of how well you two respond to it. I could see that you were upset by that question and I wanted to make myself clear. You both have shown me that you would make excellent guardians for Kaden already.”

She flipped through her file, checking off a few boxes. “Now, I do need to address the obvious.” Her eyes flashed to Elain’s rounded stomach before returning to meet their gaze. “You’re expecting in a few months. That’s a hefty change for you both. How do plan to balance having newborns with a newly adopted child at the same time, along with the additional financial obligations that come with it?”

“You don’t need to worry about the financial aspect. We are more than capable of handling whatever expenses come our way,” Az told her.

Nesryn huffed a knowing laugh. “True, but I’m still required to ask it.” It was no secret to her how wealthy they were.

“As for balance, I think it’s important to note that even though Kaden will not be our biological son, at no point will he ever feel like there’s a difference in the love we show him in comparison to the twins. He will always be our son, no matter what. And we will do everything we can to ensure that he’s settled, included, and as much a part of our family as anyone else. There is no limit to the love we can give him.” Elain said each and every word with her whole heart, feeling Azriel take her hand as they huddled closer to the little boy still sitting between them.

“While Elain will be taking a generous maternity leave, I will also be taking two months off from work to be at home after the twins are born. And then will work from home for a good portion of the few months after while we establish a rhythm, to settle with our three children, and to make sure that Kaden is as comfortable as possible.”

Her whole face lit up with a smile. “I’m happy to hear that. Many fathers aren’t able to take time off like that and adjust their schedule to help out, so knowing you plan to, I believe will make all the difference in adjusting to your new life.” She skimmed through her notes and then closed the file. “Well, I must admit that you two would make wonderful parents to Kaden. I don’t have any concerns with approving your adoption of him.”

The air whooshed from Elain’s lungs in one giant breath. Relief and happiness and so many other emotions rushed through her until her eyes grew misty. “Thank you, Nesryn. That means a lot to us. Truly.”

“Always a pleasure.” She stood from her seat. “I’ll send Emerie in for Kaden’s interview now. You two will need to step out of the room for it, so we can try and get unbiased answers from him.” She indicated to the mirror on the side of the room. “You’ll be able to watch through there. His interview won’t be as extensive as yours was.”

“And if he doesn’t answer her questions?” Az asked, nervous for the same reason she was. Would that affect their ability to adopt him if he refused to speak?

“His questioning is just to get an idea of how he’s feeling. If he doesn’t respond, then we will notate that and go with just your interview.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief.

A moment after she bid them farewell, the door opened and Emerie walked in. “Good morning,” she beamed, stepping up to the coffee table. “I was hoping that perhaps Kaden and I could chat over there,” she pointed towards the area where he’d been coloring earlier.

Elain glanced at the boy, still tucked against her side. “Do you want to go color again?” she asked him softly, brushing his hair back.

Kaden peeked up at her, his green-speckled eyes wide. He dipped his chin in confirmation.

They got him set up at the table to continue his drawing from earlier when Az knelt next to him. “All right, buddy. Emerie here wants to talk with you for a minute by yourself. Momma and I will be right outside the door if you need us. Okay?”

Elain kissed the top of his head on her way out the door. They made their way to the side room where the one-way glass was, watching as Emerie made attempts to communicate with their son.

“Do you like living with Elain and Azriel?” she asked him as she worked on her own drawing. Nesryn explained that it helped reduce the anxiety of feeling interrogated.

Kaden nodded, not looking up from his drawing.

Silent communication was better than no communication, she thought, relieved to see that he did like being with them.

Azriel gripped her hand in his large, warm one.

“What do you like about living with them?” she encouraged, picking up a new color.

He was quiet for a moment, then told her, “They’re nice.”

“He’s talking to her,” she breathed, throat constricting with emotion. They had done that. They had broken through his barriers to help him speak.

“Nice, huh? Was your dad not nice?”

Az shot a look at her, puzzled by the question.

Kaden shook his head, grabbing a yellow crayon, but didn’t elaborate. Not that she expected him to. Elain realized early on that Kaden didn’t like to talk about his biological father, even with them. She hoped that in time, he would open up about it, but they weren’t going to push the subject with him.

“Did he hit you?” Emerie asked quietly.

His coloring slowed, eyes never straying from the paper in front of him.

She reached out to touch his hand, but he snatched it away from her. “You can tell me, sweetie. He can’t hurt you anymore.”

“I don’t fucking like this,” Az growled, tensing as she pushed their son into speaking.

“Did he hit you, Kaden?”

His head snapped up, crocodile tears rolling down his cheeks. “Where’s Azweel? I want Azweel!” he shouted, voice cracking in desperation.

Elain felt that pain in the pit of her stomach; her husband already moving.

“Fuck this shit,” he snarled, throwing open the door to the interview room and hurrying to collect his son.

“Azriel!” Emerie started.

“This interview is over,” he snapped, cradling Kaden’s crying form to his chest.

Elain reached his side, her palm running along Kaden’s arm in comfort as he clung to his father’s neck

Emerie rose from her chair, arms crossing. “I know that it’s hard to watch, but if we can get a verbal statement from him, admitting to his father’s abuse, we have a stronger case against him!”

“Do not raise your voice in his presence,” he said forcefully. “What you’re doing isn’t helping him. He’s not ready to talk about what he went through and I will not stand by and watch him have to relive his abuse when he is not ready for it.” Azriel was a force to be reckoned with when it came to his family. “I don’t think you understand the trauma a child goes through after living in an abusive household. We have worked so hard to get him to open up to us, to progress forward, and if you push him, we’re going to lose all the growth we’ve made.”

“If and when he’s ready to talk, we will be there for him, but we’re not going to continue like this,” Elain added, standing with her husband on this.

Footsteps sounded behind them and Nesryn walked in, skin turned a ghastly pale color. She held her phone in her hand as she looked at them all. “We don’t need to worry about building a case against him…”

Emerie frowned. “Why?”

“Because they just found Lorenzo’s body.”

~~~

They were silent in the car, the last hour replaying over and over in her mind. After hearing the news about Kaden’s biological father, chaos broke out. Phones were ringing and both Emerie and Nesryn were arguing with their superiors about how nothing changed their minds.

Elain, for a brief second, thought she was going to lose her son in the madness. Only Azriel’s strong presence at her side kept her from breaking down completely. But when the dust settled, they received the stamp of approval for Kaden’s adoption.

She had wept with joy, kissing her husband, still holding their son to his chest, before she descended upon Kaden’s head until he giggled at her.

But now, as they were headed home, having stopped to grab an ice cream to go, she couldn’t stop the question from passing her lips. “Did you do it?” Elain asked, glancing at Azriel behind the wheel.

His eyes shot to hers for a brief second before returning to the road. “No,” he told her honestly. “No matter that he deserved it and I should’ve.” Azriel’s words held a dark and dangerous tone and she knew that he would’ve ended that man if the opportunity had presented itself to him. Not just for their son, but for the time Lorenzo nearly attacked her too.

She breathed out a sigh of relief. Elain couldn’t exactly blame him for wanting Lorenzo dead. The man had tortured the sweet boy in the back seat for years. Left hurt, scared, and to fend for himself. She saw a lot of her husband in him and she knew Az saw himself too—saw the trauma of his childhood in those green and golden eyes.

“Should we be worried?” If he didn’t end Lorenzo’s life, somebody else did. And the timing was just too coincidental for her not to have concerns.

Azriel let out a heavy breath. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

Elain looked over her shoulder at the boy humming while he ate his ice cream, most of it smeared on his lips. His feet kicked happily over the edge of his booster seat.

“No matter who did it, nothing will ever happen to him, El. I promise you that.”

She looked back at her husband. “I never doubted that. I’m just worried at why it was done.”

He grabbed her hand, kissing her knuckles. “Let’s not think about it right now and focus on our growing family.” Az ran his thumb over the back of her palm. “We need to let our siblings know.”

Elain pulled her phone from her purse. “I know. I was thinking of dinner. What about tomorrow night? You could barbeque again—ooh, barbeque…” Her mind wandered to Az’s grilled specialties, which he made for her three times a week to curb her cravings.

His chuckle pulled her mind back from thoughts of food and the growl in her stomach. “I can barbeque, my sweet.”

“You spoil me.”

Az’s head tipped back in a laugh. “You’re the one growing two babies inside of you. I think making your food is the least I could do.”

Her grin split her face as she typed out a message to her sisters. HerH

“Momma, I’m all done!” Kaden shouted from the backseat.

Elain whipped her head around at the name, sucking in a sharp breath. For a moment, she just stared at the little boy, replaying the sound of him calling her momma. Tears welled in her eyes and it took her a minute to realize he was holding out his empty paper bowl and spoon for her to take. With a shaking hand, she reached out and collected the carton, heart hammering in her chest.

“Tank you!” 

“You’re very welcome, sweetie,” she managed to spit out, still in shock.

Azriel pulled into their parking spot in the penthouse garage, turning off the ignition to smile broadly at her.

He called me momma, she mouthed at him.

Leaning across the console, he kissed her, cupping her jaw and letting his thumb swoop over her cheek. “You’re his momma,” he whispered only to her.

Her phone dinged twice and she lifted it to read the text from her sisters. “Dinner for tomorrow is a go,” she told him.

They glanced back at their son, oblivious to the shared moment. Tomorrow, their siblings would find out they had a new nephew. And she couldn’t wait to share the news with them.

~~~~~

Azriel was on the balcony, checking on the two chickens he had on the grill. His wife’s obsession with anything barbeque still made him smile. He did his best to mix up the way he prepped it so he and Kaden didn’t grow tired of it, but Az didn’t dare to tell his wife no when it came to whatever she was craving.

It was a quarter till six when he heard the elevator ping and made his way back inside to greet his siblings. “How do you all manage to show up at the exact same time?” he asked, sliding the glass door closed behind him.

“Impeccable timing?” Cassian supplied with his signature shit-eating grin.

Az simply rolled his eyes, calling for his wife. “Elain! Everyone is here!”

“Be right down!” she hollered back.

They had decided to have Elain bring Kaden down to meet everyone at once, hoping it would be less intimidating for him. He wasn’t sure how their family would react to the adoption, but he didn’t believe they had anything to worry about.

“We brought wine,” Feyre announced, heading towards the kitchen in search of glasses.

There was nothing he could do but let her further into the dining area, watching as she paused at the table, brow furrowing. “Az, do we have somebody else joining us? The table is set for seven.”

Before he could answer, absolute silence descended upon the room as Elain appeared at the top of the stairs, carrying what looked like a sleeping Kaden in her arms. She managed to take only three steps down before Az reached her, taking the little boy from her arms. “Come here, bud. Momma shouldn’t be carrying you right now.”

Even in his sleepy state, Kaden willingly went into Azriel’s embrace, arms sliding around his neck.

“He was asleep on the floor when I went into his room,” Elain told him, taking his elbow as they made their way down the stairs to where their gaping family awaited.

“Question,” Cassian started, looking utterly bewildered. “Did you two have a previous child that we don’t know about?”

Elain laughed softly, running her fingers through their son’s dark locks. “Everyone, we’d like for you to meet our newly adopted son, Kaden.”

Azriel turned so he could see his aunts and uncles. “Kaden,” he murmured quietly, running a hand down his back. “Kaden, this is your Uncle Rhys and Aunt Feyre,” he said, then turned towards their other siblings. “And your Aunt Nesta and Uncle Cassian.”

Those green eyes peeked out from his chest, glancing at the four new adults before he turned his face and buried it into his neck.

He chuckled, hoisting him up higher in his arms. “He’s a little shy.”

Their siblings remained frozen like statues. Much to his surprise, it was Nesta who managed to snap out of her reverie first, stepping forward and presenting her daughter propped on her hip. “Hello, Kaden. It’s nice to meet you. This is Sutton,” she told him, angling the almost one-year-old so he could see her better. “She’s your cousin.”

That had him turning to look at the little girl in his aunt’s arms. “Baby,” he whispered, fingers grappling with the collar of Az’s shirt.

He kissed the top of Kaden’s hair. “That’s right, buddy. She’s a baby, like what your brother and sister will be.”

“Does anybody want to explain what is going on?” Rhys demanded, startling the boy in his arms.

“Lower your voice,” Az said fiercely, taking a step back from the group to murmur words of comfort into his ear. “Would you like to go color before dinner?” he asked, already moving towards the coffee table where Kaden had left out coloring books from earlier.

He gently set his son on the floor, kneeling to kiss the side of his head before rising and ushering the adults further into the dining area to give Kaden some space.

“Kaden was brought into the hospital a while ago with a fracture to his arm that required surgery,” Elain explained. The cast had come off the previous week and his surgical site was healing well. “X-rays showed that it wasn’t his first fracture.”

“Or his second, or his third,” Az practically growled, still furious at how much the boy had suffered at the hands of his biological father.

“Four fractures?” Cassian breathed in horror.

Elain touched the back of her head. “He had one on his skull, here. Likely the result of being pushed into the corner of a low-lying table.”

“Oh, my god.”

“Because of the obvious abuse he suffered, he’s very timid around adults, particularly males. Despite that, he connected with me in the hospital. Clung to me,” his wife told them, looking at their son with such love that he had to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her close to him, wanting to bask in the warmth she radiated.

“We were approved for the adoption yesterday, and go to court in a few weeks,” Azriel announced.

Silence descended one more before Cassian cleared his throat in obvious discomfort over what he was about to say. “Not that we aren’t truly happy for you both, you do remember you’re having twins in just a short while, right?”

Elain’s eyes snapped to her brother-in-law, going impossibly dark. “Well, fuck me, Cash. I’m pregnant? Who would’ve thought?”

Azriel snorted in amusement at the hostility.

Cassian’s tanned face went pale. “I didn’t mean it like that, Elain—”

“Then how did you mean?” she snapped, not even letting him finish his sentence.

It surprised him that Cash, of all the siblings, made a comment. He had always been the more accepting of the group to changes and surprises.

His brother scratched the back of his head, knowing he’d dug himself into a hole. “I just meant that newborns are a lot and you have two on the way. Taking on another child could be more than you anticipate.”

Jesus Christ his brother was burying himself in a grave.

Elain stepped out of his grasp, shooting daggers at Cassian. “Azriel and I are well aware of the responsibilities that will come with adopting a child and having newborns. We’ve discussed things endlessly to ensure that Kaden feels welcomed and loved even with the twins’ birth.” She crossed her arms as she stared him down. “But I’m curious, would we not see the level of support that we have shown you since Sutton’s birth?”

At that, Cash blanched. “Of course you would.” He sighed, shaking his head. “Forgive me, Elain. It was not my intention to question your ability to parent and raise three children. I know you’re more than capable of it.”

She turned her attention on the rest of the group. “Does anybody else have any opinions they’d like to address?”

A chorus of declines sounded from the rest, making him chuckle.

“Good.” Elain turned to face him. “How are we doing on the chickens?”

Azriel glanced down at his watch. “They should be done. We can start bringing stuff to the table and I’ll carve.”

His family went to scatter, Nesta slowly approaching Kaden with Sutton in her arms and asking to join him on the floor. Nesta laid her daughter on her stomach, sitting back against the couch with some toys. He watched as his son cautiously stepped toward his niece. A smile touched his lips, already seeing a life-long bond between the two children.

Feyre and Rhys followed Elain to the kitchen, helping her pull dishes from the fridge and finish setting the table.

Cash took a half-step toward his wife when Azriel reached out and snagged him by the crook of his elbow, forcing him to look back at him. He lowered his voice to ensure the others couldn’t overhear him. “Don’t you ever speak to my wife like that again,” he warned.

Regret flashed in those hazel eyes so much like his own. “It won’t happen again.”

He nodded, releasing Cash’s arm. “Good. Now help me with the chicken.”

Gathered around the table, the family welcomed their newest addition, growing more and more excited for all the new changes coming their way.

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

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Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

#elriel #i do bad things with you #idbtwy #elain #elain archeron #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #elain x azriel #elain x az #azriel x elain #elain and azriel #azriel and elain #elriel fic #elriel fanfic #elriel fanfiction #tswaney17 #tswaney17fics #tay writes #my writing #fanfic #fanfiction #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

[greenleaf777]

You know what is hilarious?

Cass when it comes to Azriel embodies the part of the fandom that refuses to use critical thinking and just brushes off certain aspects of Azriel’s story

-Az gets quiet when discussing possible children?

-Az spends more time at the house of wind than the river house?

-Az gets clearly upset when hearing that Elain fought with her sister?

-Az seems to have gotten over a five centuries long crush?

-Az has a little shy smile/glance moment with Elain?

CASS: *Shrug* “Az will tell me when me when he feels like it”, and promptly forgets about all of it LOL….

He doesn’t investigate or talk about Azriel’s feelings about anything in anyway. Theres giving someone space and then theres neglecting your friends emotional health.

But then theres Nesta, who notices Azriel’s pain, notices its about Elain and, even though she doesn’t say anything, she lets him know she acknowledges his feelings and comforts him. Nesta should give Cass some emotional intelligence lessons and thats saying a lot when Nesta’s only figured that out recently as well.

Even Rhys doesn’t seem to actually care to talk to Az about anything, he doesn’t even seem to know anything about the shadowsinger powers.

#elriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acomaf #acowar #a court of wings and ruin #acosf #a court of silver flames #acofas #a court of frost and starlight #azriel #elain archeron #elain x azriel #azriel x elain #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

[speremint]

Good Omens S2 Thoughts

OBVIOUSLY spoilers for GO S2 below, so if you've not seen, and don't wanna be spoiled, don't read!

The tl;dr of this long post is that I loved S2, it was a lot of fun, and I love that it focused more on Az and Crowley, but I also think it was a little out of pocket and a little messy in writing.

Anyway I fuckin.. am still processing all of what I watched, and am currently rewatching with a friend, too, but here's my jumbled thoughts on S2 and especially the final episode because I'm having many emotions and I need to get my thoughts out somewhere.

Listen. I would like to clarify that I loved S2 and I loved S1, and I think S2 was VERY smart to parse down on supporting characters and keep it stuck to Crowley and Aziraphale for the most part.

I'm assuming that S2 was made with S3 in mind though, esp after this post from Neil Gaiman, bc lord I will cry if there's no S3.

The focus on the story of Job I am being super optimistic in hoping that maybe it's Gaiman punching us in the throat with S2 before offering us a nicer S3... regardless though, I loved the season despite my minor criticisms.

I... do not have anything against Beelzebub/Gabriel, but holy shit was that out of left field for the ending... I just feel that, despite Gabriel having memory loss (it doesn't seem to be COMPLETE since it was kinda touch and go during scenes), they should've sprinkled in some sort of foreshadowing the his relationship or fondness of Beelzebub.

Have him at least not try to decimate that fuckin fly with books, or take an interest in books on forbidden romance, or rebellion against authority, or maybe just flat out have him be interested in Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, or Nina and Maggie's. Just SOMETHING to set it up a little bit...

EDIT:: while rewatching, I suppose they hinged most of their foreshadowing in Beelzebub's passiveness and interest in Gabriel, but it's a little hard to have a comparison given how little they were in S1

It was only after I skimmed the GO tag that I saw people were pissed about Aziraphale's choice in E6 and I'm kinda just like ??? It's not OOC though... He's always been loyal to Heaven, and the times when he's been questioning, the biggest issue, is that Crowley was an enabler. He kept Aziraphale from REALLY facing the consequences of these decisions because he's acted as a safety net in some of the situations they're put in.

I love the added scenes of the past with Crowley and Aziraphale, they're fuckin great and I like that it continues to expand upon their relationship and "temptations", but I do think it was kinda reiterating stuff we knew from S1... even if it was good fan service, for lack of a better word. I just kinda wish they had sprinkled in more reinforcements of Aziraphale's fealty to heaven. Or, perhaps during the scene when Azira is worried he's going to become a demon, he could take that time to ask Crowley on his feelings on being a demon, and perhaps if he regrets it, just to also set up for the finale desire of Aziraphale in turning Crowley back into an angel.

Regardless though, S3, assuming there is one, will be a big wake up call to Aziraphale when he's left on his own and also under a tighter leash by heaven, especially since Crowley is gone. Also, expanding on Crowley being a high rank when he was an angel made my fuckin night, I still stick to the headcanon that he was the Archangel Raphael, don't @ me

I do think that... some of the stuff that happened in S3 did feel a little like a response to fans as well, since I know Gaiman is on tumblr and Ik the fandom has been really vitriolic over the fact that Az and Crowley didn't kiss or anything in S1... tbh I didn't think it was that big of a deal cause love is shown in many different ways, and I admit I do like that they kissed in S2, but it did also feel uhhh kinda spontaneous.

Not a bad thing, just wasn't expecting it. I did replay the scene bc I'm an angsty bitch. But yeah, I'm like ehhh.

Also Nina and Maggie randomly coming at the end to like.. sit Crowley down and be like "erm youre stupid and in love" felt very weird in a way I can't quite describe, but also felt kinda undeserved. Esp cause Crowley was like "eh I guess". I think the more subtle off handed chat he had with Nina about Aziraphale being his partner was a more elegant way of setting that up, and having him reflect on that instead would've been better. But also tbf he and Azira were being bitches and indeed messing with Maggie and Nina.

I don't like the term of describing content as "fanfic"y because a lot of fanfiction is super well written, but I think S2 was very... fan service-y... rather.

Which tbh I don't mind that much, esp given Gaiman really didn't want an S2 to respect Pratchett's passing as his cowriter. So... meh. I did genuinely dislike the ball scene at the end though. Just... it was really weird, and I'm not sure what they were trying to say with it, other than Aziraphale is fucking demented... and tbh he should've known better since the fucker's been on earth for ages, idk. After talkin with a friend, it just was a really weird scene, and if anything was OOC for him, I think it was that bc his removal of free will, speech, and even actions, was fucking insane.

Also I don't think John Hamm is attractive, so I tbh was just confused for a lot of his scenes that had interactions or alluded to him...

I liked S2, I really did. It was campy, it was a lil sloppy, but it was fun, and it gave a lot more Crowley and Aziraphale being a bitchy little married couple before their fuckin messy ass divorce at the end.

ANYWAY... I really can't wait to see what happens, and I am PRAYING that there'll be an S3. Until then, I will happily sit in my puddle of tears

#this is word vomit im sorry #good omens s2 #good omens s2 spoilers #personal #i prob will draw go again ngl i am cry

[wishcamper]

All in the Family: ACOTAR PART II

Welcome back to our multi-part lesson on ACOTAR and Family Systems! Today’s topic is family roles, the interplay between them, and their combination’s influence on the nuclear family emotional process in the Inner Circle.

Pre-requisites: Part I

Creds: license and mf master's degree in counseling babyyy. and unhinged enough to write it all down.

No content warnings, just garden variety family dysfunction.

oh my god what the fuck does that mean

Let's back up and start with the structure of the IC pre-Archeron invasion. We have Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Morrigan, and Amren in a found family. This is where we have to suspend our disbelief a bit, because you’ll notice there are no parents in this family. However that doesn’t mean no one functions as a parent, because in any system there is a hierarchy, at least in an emotional sense, and the power vacuum will always get filled.

When a parent is missing from a nuclear family, very often one of the children will step in to fill the role and rebalance the system. Older siblings caring for younger ones, female children picking up housework, even phrases like calling someone the “man of the house” confer symbolic authority and responsibility to someone theoretically on the same level as the others. The dark end of this road is emotional incest, when parents rely on a child emotionally in the same way they would a spouse, a dynamic that is deeply inappropriate and incredibly damaging for a child.

Okay, so let’s talk about sibling position to see who is most likely to step up. This is a found family, so obviously none of these are based in biology, but if we look at the core four, they have a pretty clear birth order layout in terms of both power and personality. 

Rhys: A textbook oldest child - responsibility-seeking, serious, tending toward leadership roles. Oldest children often feel the burden of setting a good example for others. Prone to relieving anxiety via control.

Az and Cas: Classic ends of the middle child spectrum (invisible to hyper-visible). Middle children are flexible, adaptable, and competitive, and often struggle with questions identity. They may seek to meet needs for connection and validation in unhealthy ways.

Mor: Baby of the family energy through and through. Youngest children are more likely to be outgoing, creative, and rebellious, and struggle with inferiority and self-centeredness. Interestingly, they’re also more likely to abuse alcohol and are overrepresented in psychiatric populations.

Amren, hilariously, comes across as an only child - they tend to be wise, independent, and private, struggling with social skills and receiving criticism. (1)

So who’s filling our parental roles here in the IC? Who has power over the others? Rhysand is an obvious choice - he regularly makes decisions for the group as well as individual members on the basis of his feelings and his political position. I think you could even argue Rhys sees the people of Velaris as his children, too, though he definitely plays favorites lol. Amren also emerges as a person with power, given everyone is afraid of her and she has influence over Rhys. Amren has some authority over the others, though she is less invested in their personal lives and so functions differently in the system than Daddy Rhys.

So Rhys is one parent, and Amren is like a weird aunt. It’s very normal in systems with a parentified child (PC) that the other children feel resentful - they’re all supposed to be on the same level, and yet one of them has been exalted above the rest. The PC can respond to this so many ways - force, charm, control, bribes, threats, ignoring them - it’ll depend on the person and the individual system. But the PC will also feel that counter-resentment and leverage the power position to create balance in the family (Cassian, Azriel, stop trying to kiss your sisters). The irony is that, in this system, no one asked Rhys to be in power over his friends - he decided he wanted them in his court and blurred those lines himself. I suspect this was intentional, though likely unconscious, because it gives him a nuclear option if he ever needs to reestablish order and control in his family. We see him pull rank in tense personal moments that have literally nothing to do with politics despite his excuse they do.

(I do think, though, that there’s an argument to be made here that, for people in certain positions of prominence and influence, all your choices are political. Your image is part of your power and so, by extension, the parts of your personal life that become public have an effect on your ability to rule. Rhys and Feyre use this rationale with Nesta in ACOSF, though my babe isn’t exactly a Hunter Biden. More of a Claudia Conway, I’d say.)

Let's go back to our scary image from the beginning.

Bowen believed in the importance of visualizing this structure, so he advocates for family mapping or construction of a genogram (2). Given what we’ve unpacked so far, we can roughly plot the individual connections and hierachy. I’ve created this one to show the basics of the relationships and power structure in the IC, and we’ll get more specific from here.

Solid lines=connectedness

Dashed lines=conflict

Arrow=direction of energy

Squiggles=ambivalence/fluctuation

Line thickness=emotional closeness

Amren’s special line to Rhys=whatever ulterior motive she has

If you remember from my last post, one of the most important forces in a family is the triangle. Take another look at the triangles above, and see which ones seem unstable to you. The one that immediately stands out to me, even just visually, is the Cas/Az/Mor triangle. Each individual relationship has a different tenor, which creates a lot of instability. You can see how Mor needs that closeness with Cas to balance the tension with Az, but in order to keep their relationship stable, Cas and Az have Rhys as a moderating presence. Because what is the one thing they all have in common? A close relationship with Rhys. And Rhys has Amren to reinforce his power and responsibility, keeping the whole system in balance.

In this way, the IC’s system, while dysfunctional, is relatively stable pre-Archerons.

To understand how that’s possible, we have to talk about anxiety. Anxiety is the main energy that moves conflict through the family and sets off the nuclear family emotional process (NFEP). Anxiety must go somewhere. In enmeshed systems like this one (members’ emotions and security are highly dependent on one another), members relieve their anxiety through the system instead of resolving it individually or in dyads. In cut off, emotionally distant systems, anxiety gets internalized or displaced outside the family.

Given the sheer variety of relationships in the system, the most likely source of anxiety is Morrigan. She has a different relationship to every person in the system. She’s in the middle of the power hierarchy between the “parents” and the “kids”, and floats around inside the relatively stable triangle of the bat boys, with individual connections to each one . She also has a pattern of internal conflict that she moderates externally via alcohol and relationships. Despite not having the most power externally, Mor’s actions and reactions often cause the rest of the system to shuffle around her, giving her a great deal of power.

But don’t just take my word for it - let’s look at this in action.

Say Mor, Cas, and Az go out together bc apparently that is something they do regularly. Mor feels Azriel getting too close, which triggers her anxiety because she does not want to talk about whatever is between them. In response, she communicates her displeasure by leveraging the triangle and focusing her intimate attention on Cassian. But this creates conflict for Cassian, who wants to moderate Mor’s anxiety without rupturing his relationship with Azriel. Hence, we get the weird overfamiliar platonic besties routine, threading the needling of giving Mor the protection she’s asking for without out-and-out antagonizing his brother. Azriel buries his hurt feelings and retracts emotionally, despite wanting to be connected, and they go back to how they were.

So we can see how Mor has generated the anxiety, and it follows down the chain: she passes it off to the boys, who deal with it through emotional cutoff (Az) and enmeshment (Cas). Cassian steps in between the conflict at Mor’s unconscious request and takes inappropriate responsibility for Azriel’s feelings of rejection and Mor’s anxiety, while Az puts his feelings away and reestablishes emotional distance. This is the NFEP in action.

And yet Cassian and Azriel are still shown to be close, so where do these feelings go? I mean, they do physically fight each other all the time lol. Azriel banks a lot of repressed resentment he has to discharge elsewhere. Cassian feels the burden of peacemaking and internalizes the unresolved conflict as his own fault, doubling down on his commitment to making it better. Mor avoids contending with her own feelings because everyone else is doing it for her.

And here’s where Rhys becomes a moderating presence for all of them. Rhys has ultimate decision-making power over who is in and who’s out of the family, and sets the rules of engagement. He decides who gets respect, who’s allowed to initiate conflict. Rhys hold’s the power in the bat boys triangle, the strongest alliance in the system, incentivizing Cas and Az to get along with each other. He also incentivizes Mor/Cas/Az to keep their shit together because Amren has influence over him, and they need their alliance to leverage power against her. Rhys doesn’t have a problem with the buffer, so they rest of them “don’t” either.

The best question to ask when it comes to dysfunction is this: who benefits? We can see this in larger systems, too: who benefits for housing disparity, patriarchy, systemic racism, ableism, homophobia and transphobia? People in power. If a system is balanced via dysfunction, it’s because whoever is in power wants it that way. With families, this is often more unconscious - perhaps Rhys is just as afraid of family disintegration as Mor, and believes addressing their issues will cause them to split. Perhaps there is a more generational pattern at play. I think it’s worth considering not just how this family functions, but what conscious and unconscious choices are being made given their individual families of origin.

And then the Archeron’s come, and all these cracks will be exposed and the system will get blown to shit. See you next time, class dismissed!

Sources: 

Eckstein, D., & Kaufman, J. A. (2012). The role of birth order in personality: An enduring intellectual legacy of Alfred Adler. The Journal of Individual Psychology, 68(1), 60–61.

Brown, J. (1999). Bowen family systems theory and practice: Illustration and critique. Australian and New Zealand Journal of Family Therapy, 20(2), 94-103.

Genogram made with Canva, art by @artworks_by_rokii, rosalynnart on deviant art, @sallteas

#prythian university #acotar #morrigan #cassian #rhysand #azriel #amren #family dysfunction #family systems #the buffer #sjm critical

[itsphoenix0724]

Tickle My Strings (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Azriel becomes a regular guest at your performances, and when you take a trip back to your house, you find the two of you have a lot more in common than you thought.

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected sex, creepy interaction with a drunk man

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: Hey everyone!! I hope you've all been well! We hit 100 followers which is really exciting! I can't believe 100 of you like my work enough to follow and I really appreciate it because sometimes I'm still convinced everything I write is awful lol. I wanted to take my time and write something I was really proud of for you guys. This work is heavily inspired by Annapatsu's cover of "Why Don't You Do Right" which I linked so give it a listen for the vibes! This is set about 50 years before Feyre and all the UTM stuff. I hope you enjoy and as always constructive criticism is welcome!

After all these centuries, Azriel still doesn’t know why he allows himself to be dragged to Rita’s every weekend.

He never particularly enjoyed clubbing.

Rhys and Cassian always found some female to entertain them for the night. They teased Az relentlessly because he hardly ever went home with anyone.

He figured most of them were too scared to approach his brooding form in whatever corner he hunkered down in.

However, they always convinced him to attend. And though he hated to admit it, spending time with his family was always pleasant. 

The excuse Mor had used to get him to attend this time was the promise of a new live performer. Recently, Rita’s started offering a cabaret night every Friday, and she insisted on dragging the whole Inner Circle every week. 

So that was how Azriel found himself crammed into their regular booth, surrounded by the dim lighting and a drink in his hand.

Twinkling notes played on the piano as a bright light shined on you overhead. You had to have had some kind of magic because once you stood up the piano kept playing.

You took a breath in and your voice flooded the space around the bar. It traveled to Azriel’s ears like smoke weaving through the trees. He figured you had to be part siren as you wandered through the crowd, still singing the enchanting song. His eyes tracked you as you plucked a rose from one of the table's centerpieces, singing into it as you stalked through the booths.

You finally stopped at the Inner Circle’s section and your eyes locked with Azriel’s from across the table. He saw the mischief light in your eyes as you hopped up on the table in front of him, and used the rose you were holding to tickle his nose before your voice dropped into a more sensual part of the song.

He could see Cassian and Rhys out of the corner of his eye each sporting shit-eating grins as you sang to him.

Azriel was trying very hard not to stare at your chest, which happened to be directly eye-level with him, before you lifted his chin with one hand and tucked the rose behind his ear. 

Hopping down from the table, you swayed your hips with ease, stalked back to the stage like a jungle cat, and sent the Shadowsinger one last wink over your shoulder. Azriel’s whole face was on fire, cheeks as red as one of Cassian’s siphons, as he stared open-mouthed at your form on the stage. Mor finally snapped him out of it, reaching over to snap his jaw shut as his brothers burst into laughter from his other side. Your song ended, and the whole bar shook with applause. He can see you send him a dazzling smile before you disappear behind the curtain. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This was your fourth performance and every time you got off the stage you still felt the rush of adrenaline.

You began to notice regulars coming to see you, you can’t deny it did stroke your ego that the High Lord’s table had returned for you every Friday. 

Slumping in the small dressing room chair, you finally let your perfect posture drop after holding it for so long on stage.

You sigh in relief as you pull the pins holding your hair in the updo, and wipe away the leftover makeup you applied for the stage. Changing out of the skin-tight dress and into a loose sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder with a pair of fleece-lined leggings you packed your bag to go home.

Ducking out of the Staff door at Rita’s you started making your way towards your small apartment. 

You didn’t live on the best side of the City. It wasn’t a slum, but being a singer was hard and you didn’t make the most money from the gigs you’ve managed to pick up.

Rita’s was by far the best-paying job you got yet even if it was on the other side of town. You had plans to eventually move into the Rainbow, Velaris’s infamous artist district, but that was still a long way away and your little apartment would do for now. 

Plus you liked all the strays that hung around your building because you wouldn’t get so lonely. 

You had successfully made it most of the way back to your apartment before you heard a whistle call behind you. You tried to ignore it, pushing on through the final stretch to your apartment. 

“Hey, Beautiful! Where you going huh?” The drunk voice called closer behind you and you felt the chill deep in your bones. Your steps hurried across the cobblestones, but you heard heavier footsteps chasing you. You were about to round the corner when you felt an arm catch the corner of your elbow. “Hey, slow down don’t run away.” The smell of stale liquor wafts your senses as you struggle to stop from gagging.

“Leave me alone,” you snarl, and attempt to yank your arm out of his grip. He holds strong and tries to pull you back into his chest. You struggle for a moment before you feel something snake around your leg and another figure materializes out of the shadows. 

“I believe she asked you to leave her alone,” The other voice ran through your ears like black silk. Like death itself.

You can see the imposing figure over the shoulder of the drunk male. Two massive wings tower over the already massive figure. Your savior steps out of the shadows, and that’s when you recognize him. 

The High Lord’s friend. The male you teased during your first performance. The Spymaster of the Night Court. 

“Hey man,” the drunk male stumbled through a 180, turning around to face the Spymaster. You saw his body tense and he dropped the death grip on your elbow immediately. You saw Azriel smile at the fear on the other man’s face, nodding his head in the other direction. The male scrambled back down the alleyway he came from and you saw Azriel smile at his retreating form before calmly and slowly approaching you. 

“Are you alright,” his voice now is nothing like the way he spoke to other male earlier. It was softer now, almost gentle. He used the same tone you used to try to coax the scared stray cats that live behind your apartment. Azriel’s hands were tucked into his pockets, and it looked like he was trying to hide behind the fringe of his hair to make himself look as small as possible. 

“I am now, thanks to you.” You offered him a small smile, and he took that as an encouragement to move a little closer to you. “I saw you at the show tonight. Were you following me?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and you can see the light pink tint rise to his golden cheeks. 

“I wanted to talk to you after your performance, so I waited for you to leave. I couldn’t work up the courage, but I noticed you heading towards a more dangerous area of the city and I wanted to make sure you got home safe,” the red on his cheeks turned an even brighter fire red, and you could see his hands shifting around in his pockets. “I’m realizing now that that sounds extremely creepy, I’m so sorry, I’ll leave you to your night.” He nods at you and whips around to walk the other way down the street. You see him stretch his glorious wings to take off into the sky. 

“Wait!” you call out just in time. Azriel turns his head back around and you hurry to close the distance between the two of you. You stop in front of him and Az shoves his hands back into his jacket pockets. Standing this close he’s so tall you have to crane your neck to look up at him. “While I don’t appreciate being followed, you did save my ass back there. Would you mind walking me the rest of the way home? I can make you a cup of tea as a thank you, and I don’t trust there won’t be more creeps out at this time of night.” Azriel considers for a moment before dipping his head at you, motioning with his pocketed hand for you to keep walking. The two of you walk in comfortable silence the rest of the way back to your apartment building. When you reach the front door, you unlock it and gesture for him to make his way inside.

Your apartment was a bit small. It only had two main sections, a combined living room and kitchen, and your bedroom and bathroom. You noticed Azriel tuck his wings close to his body, and you suppose it wouldn’t be the most comfortable fit for him.

You did really have a lot of stuff crammed into quite a small space.

The kitchen was overfilling with herbs and pots and pans, and the living room was overrun by plants and your piano. You could barely squeeze in the small sofa and overflowing bookshelf due to the amount of space it took up.

Even if the amount of space was questionable you still liked to think you made the space feel like home. 

“So, I realized I’ve not properly introduced myself.” Azriel’s voice called again as you ducked and weaved through your kitchen. “I’m Azriel by the way, but you can call me Az if you like” You almost snorted as you dug your kettle out from the drawer underneath the sink and filled it up with water.   

“I know who you are.” was your reply, and you saw Azriel’s cheeks flush again. For the fearsome shadow singer of Velaris, he sure is easy to fluster. He looks a little uncomfortable so you do your best to offer him a comforting smile before you tell him your name. He repeats your name back to you in a tone that makes your heart skip a beat. “Anyway,” you clear your throat. “I’ll fish out the rest of the stuff for tea, feel free to make yourself at home.” Az sends you a small smile before moving to wander around in your living room. 

“Um,” Az stutters for a second, grabbing your attention from where you were digging for sugar. “I believe someone wants in.” His voice sounds slightly amused, and you walk over to see what he’s looking at. Sure enough, you spot the straggly black cat perched on your fire escape looking as grumpy as he always does. 

“Oh, that would be Winston,” You reach around Azriel to yank the old window open and Winston the cat struts inside the apartment like he pays the rent here. He rubs through your leg once before sitting infront of the hearth, glaring up at the two of you. 

“Is he yours?” He eyes the cat with a bit of unease, and you shake your head before laughing slightly. Wrestling the window shut you turn around coming chest to chest with the Spymaster. You can feel the slight flush rise to your cheeks as Azriels stumbles to get out of your way, his wings almost knocking over one of your plants in the process. You walk to the kitchen, the stray following hot on your heels as you fill a bowl of milk. The old cat purrs in approval as he jumps up on the counter to enjoy the treat. 

“He’s not mine, not really.” You scratch behind the cat’s ears affectionately. “This building has a lot of strays, and I leave food out for them most of the time. Winston’s a bit of a grumpy asshole, but he’s very sweet once he warms up to you.” You shoot Azriel a bashful smile before you resume plundering your kitchen, now in search of some tea leaves. You hear Azriel let out a laugh, and it sounds like music to your ears. Finishing the two mugs of tea, and collecting a small tray of sugar and honey you and Az make your way over to the couch. With a wave of your hand, you light the fireplace. The two of you get comfortable on the couch and you dump a spoonful of sugar in your tea before mixing it in. You watch in horror as Azriel dumps what can only be considered an absurd amount of sugar into his tea. “Dear god, how can you even drink that?” a laugh bubbles out of your chest, and he laughs too stirring the contents of his cup. 

“I have a preference for sweet things,” He leans back on the couch truly finally making himself comfortable. You both fall into an easy rhythm, and before you know it you’ve been chatting curled on your couch for hours. You’re on the last mug of tea the pot could hold, and the clock tucked on your side table reads well past one in the morning. “I do have a question for you though,” he raises his eyebrows as he takes a sip. You take a moment to admire him in the candlelight of your apartment. You think he might be the most beautiful male you’ve ever seen, features reminding you of the marble statues you’ve seen carved at the rainbow. You nod your head at him in encouragement to ask his question, resting your mug on your lap to give him your full attention. “What kind of magic is this,” He gestures to the fireplace, and you understand where he’s coming from.

“Well my great great grandmother was a witch.” you see his eyebrows shoot to his hairline and he leans forward to listen more intently. “I don’t have any world-shaking power or anything, but I can do small things like object manipulation. Light the fire, turn out the candles before bed, stir a mug of tea.” You twirl your finger for emphasis and the spoon resting in Azriel’s mug starts to spin before you drop your hand and it rests back against the rim. The wonderstruck look on his face encourages you to explain further. “The piano took me a while longer to learn. I have to keep the back of my mind constantly focused on the notes, so it can be a bit hard to concentrate on singing sometimes. But, it’s worth it because I love interacting with people during my shows. It just makes the performance that much more special for me and the crowd I’m performing for.” You realize you may have been rambling and you send him an embarrassed smile.

“I think that’s wonderful.” Azriel offers you in a whisper and you feel like a flock of wild birds is threatening to break free of their cage in your stomach. His eyes are so intense, the gold almost entirely drowns out the other colors under the candlelight. You almost wish you had been blessed with the ability to paint instead of sing. You could spend hours trying to get the color right and you still don’t think you’d ever be able to capture it accurately. You find yourselves drifting closer to each other and you swear he can hear your heart thudding against your ribs like a metronome. He’s so close you can smell him, night-chilled mist and cedar, you see his eyes dart down to your lips and you tilt your chin up in permission. Your eyes just slip shut when you feel a sudden pressure on your lap. You and Azriel both jump in surprise as you find Winston sitting there with his owlish eyes fixed on you. Dumbfounded, you snap out of your previous trance as he yowls for attention. You rub your tired eyes with the back of one hand before scratching behind his ears with the other. The cat lets out a contented purr and Azriel playfully shakes his head in disbelief. 

“I should probably get this cleaned up.” You rise from the couch and you almost swear Az’s hand reaches for you as you get up. Winston, thoroughly disgruntled, moves to the seat next to Azriel.

“I can help you if you like,” He stands up, almost bumping into you as you gather the empty mugs. He attempts to take the tray before you bat his hands away and scoop it up. He is your guest after all. 

“I got it don’t worry.” You shoot him a sweet smile, and he nods at you before he takes to wandering around your living room again. You rinse both of the mugs carefully and scrub out the teapot. Looking into your living room you see the cat sprawled in the middle of your couch and Az peering at the titles on your bookshelf. You hum to yourself as you continue to scrub the dishes, you want to do it now before it leaves residue stuck to the bottom of the dishes. You see Azriel move over to your piano and almost absentmindedly play a few notes along to the tune you were humming. You abandon the dishes and silently step through the living room in a way that could rival the Spymaster, as he continues to mess around with the piano. “It seems you’ve been holding out on me.” Azriel jumps away from the piano with an almost guilty look on his face. 

“My mother taught me how to play,” He sends you a sad smile as you move to stand next to him. “I wasn’t allowed to see her often, but she would teach me a few things when she could.” His eyes drift down to his scarred hand on the keys, and he flexes and opens his hand with a conflicted expression on his face. You reach down to cover his hand with your own and squeeze, the keys make an ugly sound with the pressure but you’re only distantly aware of it. Azriel stares at your hands for a moment before his eyes drift back to your face, darting to your lips again. Once more, you dip your chin in agreement. Azriel’s other hand gently cups your cheek for a moment as he admires you. The rough texture is a contrast against the smooth skin of your face, and you can feel the drag as he moves his hand down to cup your chin. 

He waits for one moment, two, before your eyes flutter shut and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. Your hands shoot to the silky black hair and wind through the strands curling at the back of his neck before tugging lightly. This seems to urge Azriel on and he wraps his free arm around your hip like a vice before dragging you closer. You can taste the tea on his lips, and something else you can only assume is uniquely Az. He’s kissing you like he would rather have you than oxygen, and you find yourself echoing that sentiment. 

You don’t think you could stop kissing him even if the moon came crashing down from the night sky. 

You nip at his bottom lip, and you’re rewarded with a loan groan from deep in his throat. He urges you back against the piano, and you lean your hands down to brace yourself against the keys. The noise it makes grates against your ears, but you’re too enthralled with Azriel to care as he hoists you on top of the instrument. The crash must’ve scared the cat because you can distantly hear four paws hit the floor before padding into the dark sanctuary of your bedroom. You find your way to Az’s hair again and this time you pull a little harder, one of his hands finds the curve of your ass and squeezes. His tongue sweeps over your bottom lip, and it feels like he’s trying to swallow the whine you couldn't bite back. His mouth moves to brush kisses over your jawline, and when his teeth graze over your pulse point your hips cant up in answer. 

It almost feels like a song, your two bodies moving perfectly together, pushing and pulling in perfect harmony. Kicking your piano bench back, Azriel advances again pushing you to lean fully on the piano as he kisses down your body and kneels before you on the floor. He wastes no time, yanking down your pants and underwear in one go. He licks one strong stripe up your center before letting out a moan that echoes through your apartment and dives in again. You start to get dizzy as you writhe against the piano, pulling his hair, drunk with pleasure. 

It’s then that you notice a pattern of what he’s doing.  

A line up, a line down, a stripe across. A zigzagged line. A line up, a curve, a diagonal line. Another straight line before his tongue swirls around your clit. A straight line across and a curve around. Another straight line, and then the pattern repeats itself. 

It takes your hazy mind a second to realize what he’s doing, but when you do you flush from the tips of your ears down to your toes. You rise onto your elbows, eyes shooting open to find Azriel staring right at you with a smug look in his eyes. 

That cocky bastard was spelling his fucking name. 

That fact alone almost makes you finish on his tongue as you collapse back against the instrument. The smooth surface is a welcome chill against your steadily climbing body temperature. You feel one finger rise to circle your entrance. He’s playing with you like a toy, teasing but not giving you what you want. 

“Look at me,” he growls into the air, one finger plunging in and curling to find the sweet spot inside of you. You try, but your eyes fall open and closed as he abuses that position, he even looks amused at your weak attempts to concentrate. “I’m not going to let you finish unless you can look at me while you do it,” His rough voice feels like velvet dragging over your skin. “Come on beautiful I know you can,” your eyelids feel like they weigh one thousand pounds, but you need to come right now or you might explode. It takes all your effort to pry your eyes open and look him straight in the eye. He pays you with another finger inside of you and drops his head back down to your core. Somehow, you keep your eyes on him the whole time, and he lifts his head briefly to mutter a “Good fucking girl” against your thigh. 

That’s what sends you over the edge, burning hot ecstasy shoots through your whole body as you hurtle into oblivion. Your legs are shaking when he rises, and his hand rubs a soothing circle into the meat of your hip. He leans down to press gentle kisses into your neck as you recover. 

“Can you go another round?”  He whispers into your ear, perfectly content to give you pleasure and get nothing in return. He could deal with the painful hard-on in his pants later. You nod your head with enthusiasm and Azriel almost sags in relief. Your hands find the laces on his pants and rip as you leave a trail of lovebites down his neck. You hold him in your hand as you pump it up and down. His head lulls back as you run your thumb over his tip. You guide him into you slowly, and he lets you adjust as he sinks in inch by glorious inch. He waits for a moment when he’s fully seated inside of you, and he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky before he starts to move. He picks up the pace, pulling almost all the way out before slamming the full length of him back in. 

You can feel yourself start to build to a second high, and Azriel can feel the way you're clamping around him. He reaches a hand around to rub tight circles against your clit and one of your legs rises to the keys, making another loud crash of notes so that Az can get a better angle. You drag Azriel closer to you and he hits the sweet spot inside of you again that makes you scream causing your nails to run down his back, leaving angry red marks in your wake. You finish for the second time like a blazing symphony, the rushing in your ears so loud your surroundings are almost entirely gone. Azriel follows you soon after that, his whole body tenses, and the moan he releases may very well be imprinted on your brain forever. The two of you sit there- hot, sweaty, and panting- as you stare at each other. Azriel gently helps you down from the piano and you thank him before offering to let him stay the night. He enthusiastically obliges and you fall asleep with his arm thrown around your waist. 

You wake the next morning to an empty bed and the smell of bacon coming from your kitchen. Padding out of your bedroom you are greeted with the glorious sight of a shirtless Azriel over your stove, and a pleased-looking Winston perched on the counter next to him. 

“What are you making?” You circle your arms around Azriel’s waist and he tenses before relaxing into your touch.

“Just some eggs and bacon. I was going to surprise you in bed, I hope you don’t mind I raided your kitchen” You smile into his back, pressing a kiss to the strong cord of muscle that runs along his shoulder. Before scratching the cat behind his ears. 

“Not at all, I see you’ve made friends this morning.” You raise your eyebrow at Az and he shoots you and the cat an amused expression. 

“I had to bribe him with a piece of bacon,” this sends you both tumbling into a fit of laughter. After that, you two eat breakfast mostly in comfortable silence, and Azriel gets dressed before leaving with a promise to take you out properly next Saturday.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

As Azriel arrived at the training ring the first thing he heard was Cassian’s bark “You’re late!” before he threw himself into training. He had sparred with Cassian and with Rhys, and the Verlaris sun was making him sweat buckets. Excusing himself for a water break he peeled off the soaked shirt, tossing it to the chaise usually occupied by Mor. He distantly heard Cas and Rhys stop fighting but he paid it no mind until he heard Rhysand’s voice call behind him. 

“So that’s why you were late to training this morning,” Rhys sounded amused and he turned around to find both of his brothers staring at him with cocky smiles on their faces. It was then that Azriel remembered you had scratched down his back the night before. He had been so lost in pleasure that he hadn’t even felt it, but apparently, it had left a mark. 

“Was it the singer? I bet it was the singer.” came Cassian’s unneeded input. Evidently, the way Azriel ducked his head to hide the flush smile and the aversion of their gazes was answer enough for them. 

He didn’t care about his brothers’ teasing. He would take being teased for 100 more years if it meant he got to see you again this weekend.

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acotar imagine #acosf fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel smut

[acourtofthought]

WHY is Azriel, canonically, the most problematic out of the four people involved in the shipwar yet he gets the least hate? Everyone keeps eating his ass and asking for seconds and I can’t understand it. He doesn’t need a personality upgrade, he needs a personality, period.

I refuse to accept any criticism of Gwyn and Elain. Both of them have been recently traumatized and they’re trying to get better without bothering anyone. All the hate I see for them is from the mouths of obnoxious shippers. Sentences that start with “Azriel deserves” are not acceptable unless they end with “a punch to the throat”.

"Sentences that start with “Azriel deserves” are not acceptable unless they end with “a punch to the throat”."

😂😂😂😂

It is strange, isn't it?

E/riels hate Lucien. They claim he's aggressive and pushy and makes Elain uncomfortable (first off, he's neither aggressive nor pushy and second, while Elain is uncomfortable we don't know exactly why that is. It's likely that it's not Lucien himself that makes her uncomfortable but the thoughts Lucien's presence causes her to have that make her uncomfortable).

But somehow it gets ignored that Azriel actually makes Mor uncomfortable which is confirmed in Mor's POV as well as when she explains to Feyre why she acts the way she does. Somehow it gets ignored that every time Azriel has an opening to communicate his feelings about something important we get "Azriel said nothing" or "Azriel left the rest unsaid." He's the one who disrespects Rhys and Feyre's orders half the time while still choosing to hide Feyre's pregnancy concern and the swords Nesta made even though he felt Nesta should be told (so basically he does what he wants when it's not the right thing but won't fight for something when it is). In SF, he's the one who is in love with one female, got fixated on another only because she represents what he wants most (mating bond), all while showing admiration for a third, deciding to give Gwyn a gift he originally got for Elain while being jealous of Helion asking after Mor. 🤦

To me he's no prize. He's fine, he'll be better after his book but I'm not quite sure where the appeal lies with Az and really both Elain and Gwyn deserve a better love story.

He's sometimes funny but no funnier than any of the others. He sometimes says something insightful, but no more insightful than we've seen from any of the others. He's brave but no less brave then the others who are a combination of brave and prudent while Az leans towards reckless.

Maybe because he's the "prettiest" of the brothers and is "kinky" in bed? Maybe because he's what in real life would be the "broody bad boy" that girls hope they can tame and be the one to bring out the soft and gentle side of him? Maybe because we don't actually know Az all that much and some are filling in the blanks with what they'd like to see?

A lot were up in arms over his POV saying it was out of character but....what if that IS Az's character? What if his default mode is rage and self loathing and fixation? SJM has said on a few occasions that Az scares her so I imagine when she writes his story, she'll be writing with that in her mind.

But it is weird how E/riels will trash talk both Gwyn and Lucien, some Gwynriels and even Elucien's will tear apart Elain yet Az is the most unscathed of all even though there is nothing "better" about him.

It's fine to like Az despite his flaws but shouldn't the courtesy of looking past ones flaws also be extended to the others? Lucien, Gwyn and Elain have never purposely set out to hurt anyone. They make mistakes but they're trying to learn from them. They're no more selfish than anyone else. So what exactly makes their "crimes" so unforgiveable while Az reigns supreme despite his? It's not that anyone has to love a character but it would at least be nice if it wasn't a pot calling the kettle black scenario.

#anti azriel #pro elain archeron #pro gwyneth berdara #pro lucien vanserra #elucien

[thesherrinfordfacility]

It might be a sudden question, but do you think Aziraphale really was terrible at magic tricks in 1941 (and prior to it)?

I’m not talking about S1, he clearly was bad there (though he was ~80 years out of practice then). And I’m not talking about his presentation – he’s a bad magician in the sense of how he’s nervous on stage and can’t entertain the public. But was he so bad at magic tricks in themselves?

Let me explain myself. What magical tricks we see and hear him performing prior to 1941 and in 1941?

- Lone caraway seed on three cowry shells, performed to Nefertiti. Successful (as we are told, at least; should we doubt?).

-Vanishing of farthing. Successful.

-Turning a turnip into an inkwell. Initially was intended to be a trick with the use of a miracle. Didn't work because of Furfur and the miracle blocker. Force Majeure. Can't be counted.

-Bullet catch trick. I would argue that 1) it should have been rehearsed a little, you can’t just perform tricks without a rehearsal; 2) Despite of what Aziraphale said, it used mostly Crowley’s sleight of hand (because of their weird roleplay). Nevertheless, successful.

-A photo trick with Furfur, Successful.

-Repeat of a photo trick. The only one indisputably unsuccessful in the list for me. I would once again say that, as far as I understand, a photo should be hidden in a wide sleeve – which Aziraphale wore in a dressing room, but didn’t in a bookshop. But he should have thought about it before demonstrating it, so still unsuccessful.

What I see from the list is that Aziraphale actually isn’t bad with tricks that require sleight of hand. But needs to work with a presentation, and also have more of a practice.

So was it fair for Crowley to say that he was terrible at it? Especially with a photo trick just saving their lives? And with Crowley not thanking Aziraphale for it even once, yet not objecting to Aziraphale starting praising him instead?

And aside from it, was his criticism of Aziraphale thinking “in black and white” fair at that particular moment? Not in general. But in that scene Az only said that Crowley “isn’t as evil as he’d like to paint himself”, which is….actually true? He didn’t even call him nice or something, and “not as evil” is gray enough. Aziraphale is the one to propose a toast to shades of gray, and without arguing, after all.

I don’t know, I just think that particular scene is very unfair to Aziraphale, and I can’t understand if it’s just me, and whether it can be intentional; and I don’t like it(((

hi anon!!!✨

its an interesting question, because i think there are multiple things to consider here... most of which you've summed up very nicely!

so first for me - lets consider that he literally studied under professor hoffmann - modern magic from the late 1800s was incredibly successful, and primarily focused not only on sleight of hand but also presentation.

if we go based on the latter element in isolation, i think actually aziraphale is indeed a good magician; his stage presence is arguably outdated in 1941 - or at least isn't appropriate to the mood of society at the time - and is definitely met with disdain in 2019, but in the late 1800s, you could see where his showmanship and patter would have been well received. even his outfit is very in-keeping with magicians from around the time of early 20th century; magician alexander conlin below, as a point of comparison:

anyway, digressing slightly; but this doesn't necessarily mean that aziraphale was any good at the magic part. hoffmann wrote in aziraphale's copy of modern magic, "a wonderful student"... which, tbh, im more inclined (than not) to take with a pinch of salt - the wording comes across as slightly tongue-in-cheek.

the way he states that he does occasionally cheat with a small miracle, just to set the tone of the audience, suggests that by large he does refrain from using miracles in his magic act (and im willing to believe that as a point of pride, he's telling the truth) - so we could surmise that the nefertiti trick was entirely miracle-less.

but we don't actually see this interaction as a flashback, so are we - like you said - to take aziraphale's word for it that he did fool her? some egyptology hypotheses focusing on her rule with akhenaten support that nefertiti was a very intelligent and cunning person, which would in turn suggest a simple sleight of hand trick - despite cultural context of the time - may have entertained her, but maybe not fooled her. might be reading too much into the nefertiti reference (egyptology is a guilty pleasure, especially this particular period - sorry), but nonetheless im not sure we can wholly trust aziraphale's recount of events.

as for the farthing trick... from what i can see, yeah - the trick absolutely worked, the farthing indeed vanishes, and aziraphale is simply out of practice with coin tricks by 2019 on the park bench. what i find interesting is that many seem to read crowley's resultant expression as impressed...?

(also - look closely at aziraphale's expression when he says 'vanished' - now this could be the showmanship like i said above, which aziraphale does seem to have a knack for... but could it also be surprise? incredulity? that he succeeded?)

that honestly baffles me, because to me, it absolutely reads that he's not impressed, but plays it up and gives aziraphale a rather patronising response that, well, aziraphale doesn't seem to realise is a little mocking? crowley does encourage aziraphale, likely out of fondness and wanting aziraphale to have confidence in something that evidently delights him, but he's not fooled by it, nor blown away. but at the end of the day, like you noted, the trick was indeed successful.

and the card trick that literally saved crowley's hide - no need to wax lyrical about this! but both of these successful tricks appear to have the same common denominator: crowley himself. so, do we consider that aziraphale only performs successfully under pressure? that pressure being to impress crowley, or to save him? the bullet catch doesn't require much skill on aziraphale's part - its literally explained that it requires an actor or stooge, who is responsible for the skill (shooting) part - other than handling a bullet and hiding it in their mouth until they need to reveal it at the zenith of the trick itself.

i think crowley's assessment of 'terrible' is unfair in the context that he says it - like you say, and ive pointed out in previous posts as being a personal bone of contention, it's a kick in the teeth to say after that very magic trick saved him from whatever hell had in store for him.

you could argue that crowley uses aziraphale's 'terrible' ability to support that aziraphale should stop doing magic, in an attempt to dissuade him from getting ideas about repeating such a dangerous act again (ie. he uses it as an excuse, so aziraphale doesn't get hurt in the future), which does hold, and i think is probably more in line with crowley's character (ie. his penchant to insert himself as aziraphale's protector, especially from himself, but without giving his true motive away).

but then again... im not convinced that his assessment is inaccurate, per se. aziraphale definitely has the spirit, bless him, but does he have the skill? he certainly knows the theory, studied it under a master... but the fact that there are only two confirmed incidents of an actual sleight of hand trick being successful, and both relate to being (arguably, in the farthing example) high stakes is more of a contributing factor to their success, than aziraphale actually being an excellent magician.

on a slightly separate note, the "black and white" comment.

so, just to allow me to set out my interpretation of the line (that may well be obvious to everyone else but a) im slow and b) so we're all on the same page where my brain is parked) - aziraphale is saying crowley describing himself as evil and mean would suggest that crowley ought to have left aziraphale hanging out to dry (ie. he's asserting that crowley is a nice person reeeeaaaally - remember that in the church rubble and the bentley, crowley snapped at him for saying it outright), but crowley is retorting that no, he is evil and mean, but is capable, and sometimes even willing, to do nice things. that people like them contain multitudes, and noone is wholly good or wholly bad.

so i don't think it's meant as a criticism against aziraphale, personally - in fact, I'd argue in some respects it's one of the most honest things crowley ever says about himself, despite how it's worded to hit at aziraphale. to me, he's actually confirming and acknowledging to aziraphale that whilst he (crowley) does consider himself to be someone that isn't nice, he has the capacity to be nice anyway. i don't think that its a hit at aziraphale's character - the way aziraphale himself says it is that it's like a test ('come on, im being deliberately obtuse - challenge it, challenge me'), and crowley actually kinda passed*? - admitted in not as many words that yes, he's occasionally nice, under the right circumstances, but warning aziraphale that he shouldnt confuse that with him being a nice person.

like i said - i think personally this is one of the most honest and introspective things crowley has ever said... *but aziraphale doesn't appear to learn from it, doesn't listen, and continues through the narrative to place crowley upon his pedestal of being a nice person, wholly and completely, with little nuance - so much so that he ignores when crowley is actually, as he warned, leaning into the black rather than the white. if we consider how they describe their respective greys as being very dark (crowley) vs. very light (aziraphale), i think - once again - aziraphale kinda let the point sail right over his head. "aim for my mouth, shoot past my ear"✨

#good omens #ask #this was a fun one thank you anon! #aziraphale meta #crowley meta #1941 spec #ish #s2 meta #flashback meta

[marzipanandminutiae]

The GO fandom are insufferable and I’m not watching 0FMD out of spite… but tbh I’m just glad they don’t actively hate women in the same way some older fandoms did like sh*rlock and s*pern*tural fandoms did irreparable damage.

But I guess the more frustrating part is that newer fandoms do have well written female characters where were the older ones…didn’t. They just wilfully ignore them in fandom.

G.O. was massive disappointment to me, because I love the book. But I could not get over large chunks of side character content- especially Anathema, but the Them and the Witchfinder Army too -being cut to make it more the All Az and Crowley, All The Time show. Also the narration. MY GOD. It's like they didn't trust the audience to have more critical thinking skills than a toddler! It was like, "The M25 was cursed. It was cursed because Crowley made it the shape of this sigil. The sigil is cursed. Crowley is now stuck on the M25, which is bad, because it is shaped like a cursed sigil. He did that!" etc.

But yes, not being actively misogynistic is a step up. I am aware that all those shows do HAVE female characters- well-written ones, even!

It's just. Yeah. As you say, the fandoms seem to be full of Pretty Men, or Genderfluid Beings Who Almost Always Present And Are Read As Men and Whose Actors Are Cis Men, and not much else. And people can do what they want, and it's just fandom, and you don't have to engage with female characters unless they strike the Blorbo Spark in you. I would never try to make someone do something in fandom they didn't want to!

On my blog, though- in my Tantrum Hole -I can have my subjective Pouts about such things.

#ask #anon #media grumbling #fandom grumbling

[bookofmirth]

When people say Elain is an introvert (and it’s why she’s well suited for Azriel) and is currently thriving/happy…it makes me laugh a little and it’s kind of annoying. Compare ACOTAR & ACOMAF Elain to ACOWAR - ACOSF Elain and there is a massive difference. She is traumatized. In the beginning, Elain is described as laughing, talking, interacting and dancing with multiple people at parties. She personally greets them. She can convince anyone to do anything with a few smiles. In the human lands she was happy and the farthest thing from introverted. After being turned by the Cauldron, she becomes quiet. She has unresolved trauma. I think in SF, it’s stated that Elain is overwhelmed by crowds and she didn’t use to be that way; she loved balls and parties. That joy was taken away from her. Elain in the Night Court seems out of place. Shippers argue we’re being “anti-feminist” (or that we hate her) when we say Elain shouldn’t be in the NC (or with Azriel) even though she has became friends with the wraith twins and is making a home there for herself. Elain doesn’t seem like herself and as if she’s not happy. How can someone read SF and conclude that she’s fine and is meant to be in a court that “sucks the life from her.” Also adding, shippers say we really don’t care about Elain because we say she should choose who/what she wants and when she chooses to kiss Azriel we don’t agree with it. Well, we don’t know if she really wants him, because it wasn’t in her pov. She wanted to kiss him, yes, but is it only lust or is there romantic feelings? For Az, I only picked up on jealousy and lust.

Honestly some people learned about feminism from wikipedia and it shows. That's a rich criticism coming from a fandom who can't extend that same grace to other female characters, though. Just saying. Everyone is a feminist when it comes to Elain, but Mor? Nesta? Feyre? They forgot how to read.

Elain in acowar-acosf is a shell of who she used to be. in acosf it's described a couple of times that she is starting to seem more like her old self, but that old self goes away so quickly. She's being sly about something, we just don't know what. She has zero relationship with Nesta, whom she was closest with before. She's trying to help the IC when trouble comes, but gets shut down. She's not friends with anyone in the IC, which is weird to me considering how much time she spends with them. Something isn't clicking in the Night Court!

In fact, sjm said in an interview (in the back of the paperback of acofas, I think?) that Elain has been having nightmares about vines choking her. We haven't read about those in canon yet, so where are they? I assume she's still having them because we haven't had her story yet. We haven't even had a chapter that tells us her thoughts yet, like you mentioned.

I've never seen anyone argue that Elain shouldn't have tried to kiss Az - not saying it's never happened, I just can't speak on it. Personally, I've even said that I don't really care if she was hurting Lucien's feelings by doing so. Be messy, do what you want, follow your heart or vagina or whatever Elain, do it. But like you said, we don't know how she actually feels. There's nothing wrong with her (or Az's) sexual desires, no one has ever said that that in itself is a problem. It's the utter lack of romantic feelings that is putting us off, when paired with the idea that supposedly, they are in love? I can accept that they are sexually attracted to one another, but chafe at the idea of them being so in love when Az couldn't think of a single positive thing to say/think about her beyond that physical attraction.

#antielriel #ask #anon #elain