SJM: A Ballad of Flame & Shadow | Azriel Fanfic Alex was falling between worlds- falling through worlds- until she landed with Bryce someplace that was definitely not Hel. And now there was a male before her, the most beautiful male she had ever seen and something other than fear sparked in her heart. Wattpad & Ao3 A Court of Pleasure and Ruin (Nesta x Cassian x Azriel)

Nesta can't stop thinking about how Azriel and Cassian made her feel during training and all the things she wished she could do with them. Looks like her wishes have come true.

Wildest Dreams (Batboys x Plus size reader ACOTAR)

Where the reader finds herself gaining the attention of the most notorious males in Prythian and it seems that even her wildest dreams couldn't prepare her for the night they would share.

Chapter Thirty Five Snippet:

The last strand of restraint I'd been clinging to broke apart like rotten rope.

My chair screeched violently across the floor as I surged to my feet.

Darkness exploded from me.

My shadows shot forward in a vicious wave, no longer the quiet, watchful creatures that lingered at my shoulders but something ancient and furious. They speared across the room like living weapons, black tendrils twisting and lashing through the air with enough force to rattle the windows.

Chapter Thirty Four Snippet:

Time stops existing somewhere between the first bruise and the fiftieth insult hurled across the sparring ring.

That feminist empowerment class I took in college went out the window as Nesta and I spat names at each other that would make the biggest chauvinist flinch.

It was fucking delightful.

Chapter Thirty Three Snippet:

I had hoped.

What a fucking fool you are, Alexis Quinlan.

Chapter Thirty Two Snippet:

Azriel turns his head slightly this time, just enough that I feel the shift of him, the brush of his attention sharpening.

"I said," he repeats, slow and deliberate, each word edged with something darker now, "have you made your own?"

My throat goes dry.

I swallow, the motion tight, my pulse suddenly loud enough that I'm certain he can feel it where I sit beside him.

There is absolutely no reason for the truth to come out.

And yet…

"Yes," I breathe.

Chapter Thirty One Snippet:

I stare at him, hair lashing wildly across my mouth and cheeks in the rushing wind, half-blinded by the strands and outrage alike. "You cannot just kidnap me because I chose a different ride!"

His expression does not so much as flicker. His arms remain locked around me, one braced beneath my knees, the other a solid band around my waist, holding me with infuriating ease as if my struggling amounts to nothing.

"You chose incorrectly."

For a moment, I can only gape at him.

My mouth actually falls open.

Chapter Thirty Snippet:

Behind us, faint over the rush of wind, I hear Feyre laugh. "When did Azriel become a territorial brute?

Rhysand's answering snort carries easily through the open air. "Since he met Alex, apparently."

Chapter Twenty nine Snippet:

"Oh, that is low," I hiss, leaning toward him. "I will have you know, Az, I am five foot four."

He just looks at me.

Deadpan. Utterly unconvinced.

I huff. "Fine. Five-three."

One dark brow arches.

"Alright, alright—fuck!" I throw a hand up, pointing my finger at him in warning. "Five-two. But that is as low as I will go."

His mouth twitches, just slightly. That faint, rare flicker of amusement glinting in those hazel eyes as he lifts another slice of apple to his mouth, again using the knife, again entirely too smooth about it.

"Prick," I mutter, snatching up my fork and stabbing another piece of apple with unnecessary force. It helps my temper, and the faint desire to stab him instead.

Chapter Twenty Eight Snippet:

"Good morning," Nesta says finally, that sharp tilt to her voice softened by knowing amusement. I watch her through narrowed eyes as she casually pops a piece of fruit into her mouth, lips curling faintly at the corner. "Good night?"

"Not as good as yours, it would seem," I drawl, stiffly tucking my chair in. "That was quite the porno you and Lord Cums-a-Lot put on."

Cassian chokes immediately, porridge going down the wrong pipe.

"Lord Cums-a-Lot?" he coughs out, pounding once against his chest.

Nesta tilts her head. "Porno?"

Right. No pornography in this quaint little medieval world. They probably relied on nude paintings and scandalous poetry for their erotic material. How miserable.

Chapter Twenty Seven Snippet:

"I came to check on you," he says.

Simple.

Too simple.

I study him for a moment, trying to read beneath the calm exterior. His expression is controlled, carved from stone and shadow. But there's something quieter there. Something watchful.

“You came to check on me?” I drawl. “Surely your shadows already confirmed I survived. After the bath-time spectacle.”

One of them immediately curls tighter around his shoulder. Traitor.

His expression doesn’t change, but something in his eyes darkens. “They were concerned,” he says evenly.

“They were entertained,” I counter. A shadow slips from him at that, gliding across the floor toward me before retreating again, as if reconsidering its life choices.

A flicker of amusement ghosts across his face. “Maybe both.”

Chapter Twenty Six Snippet:

The shadows stretch outward from me rather than toward me, gliding along the copper rim of the tub, tracing the curve of it before spilling back across the surface of the water in dark, translucent ribbons. One coils around my ankle beneath the water, light as a passing current. Another drifts up the length of my calf, unhurried, as if reacquainting itself with the shape of me.

Heat and cool meet in a slow, dizzying contrast.

"Azriel," I say under my breath, tilting my head back against the copper edge. "If you can feel this..."

The thought lodges there, unfinished.

Do they carry sensation back to him? Do they report in the quiet language only he understands? Does he feel the shift in my breathing, the way my pulse stutters when one of them tightens fractionally at my wrist before sliding free again?

Chapter Twenty Five Snippet:

He looks down at me.

I look up at him.

The silence is thick.

 “I slipped?” I ask tersely.

“You slipped,” he repeats quietly.

I narrow my eyes. “You dropped me.”

One corner of his mouth twitches. “I caught you, though.”

Chapter Twenty Four Snippet:

She tore its throat out.

Literally.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, smearing blood across her cheek.

Heat, pure, molten heat, ignited low in my core and burned a ruthless path downward straight to my cock.

Holy fucking Gods.

The sight of her ripping out a demon's throat with her teeth was obscene in a way no battlefield carnage had ever been. Blood painted across her lips, staining her teeth crimson. Her beautiful face streaked and feral, eyes wild and blazing with something ancient and untamed. It made my loins burn. Made my body ache with a hunger so sharp and unfamiliar it bordered on pain.

"I wouldn't recommend doing that," she drawled lazily from the cot when the memory faded, and silence settled over the room. "Demon blood tastes like absolute ass."

Chapter Twenty Three Snippet:

“Look at me,” he whispered into my ear. “Look at me, Alex.”

I forced my head up, blinking through tears until I could see him. Midnight-blue eyes. Just as breathtaking as the first time, I’d ever looked into them and fallen helplessly, irrevocably in love.

“Smile for me,” he murmured, his hand cupping the back of my neck, steadying me. Keeping me upright. Keeping me whole.

I shook my head, barely able to breathe.

His lips brushed my brow, a tear slipping free and trailing down to kiss my cheek.

Chapter Twenty Two Snippet:

Right now, as the next memory bled into another, one thing was unmistakably clear: Alexis Quinlan had ignited. She'd burned, bled, and drowned in that fucking fire—and came out forged.

So had Bryce.

The Quinlan sisters weren't just broken; they were reborn in the flames. A volatile cocktail of grief, rage, and purpose.

God help anyone caught in the path of their wrath.

Except Micah.

I hope the Gods spit in that bastard's face.

Chapter Twenty one Snippet:

My hands curled into fists on my thighs, every muscle straining with the effort to stay still.

Every instinct in me screamed—move.

Begged. Pleaded.

To cross the space between us.

To pull Alexis into my arms, fold my shadows around her shaking body, and swear nothing—no one—would ever touch her again. To promise that not a single tear would fall from those pretty eyes again.

Not while I drew breath.

But I didn’t move.

I sat.

And I watched.

Just like I said I would.