#violent azriel

I could not wait one single more second to post this one. This chapter may be my favorite thing I've ever written, and I hope you all love it, too! It's so fun, giggly, teasy, tensiony. Think violently protective, obsessed, pathetic, comPLETEly unhinged Azriel. Also, Azriel wearing a leather jacket is my permanent headcanon now 🫦

Chapter summary: Azriel reaches new levels of unhinged when Elain joins the family at Rita's. He leaves her with an enticing offer.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61087384/chapters/156827896

“You look very nice, Azriel,” Elain said with an unmistakable touch of shyness. Azriel felt a blush of his own bloom on his cheeks.

He looked down at himself. He had forgone leathers and armor for a simple yet- he hoped- elegant black silk shirt and tailored pants. There was little he could do about the unruly waves kissing his brow and neck but his hair was at least washed and going in the right directions.

He kept the siphons atop his hands and Truth-Teller at his side, naturally. He never knew when he might need them.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “You…”

Fuck. What was he supposed to say? You look like a flawless goddess, Elain? You look like every sublime dream I have ever conjured? You look like a heavenly creature of moonlight and forgotten worlds and everything good in the universe? You look like your body may kill me slowly and happily?

Say something you godsdamned fucking idiot.

“You look rather dashing,” is what came out of his mouth.

This one is really rough, you guys. I'm so sorry. HEAVY angst, blood/gore, violence warning. Anyway happy Thanksgiving byeeee T.T

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60399079/chapters/155691856

Azriel laughed again and shook his head. “I don’t think anyone realizes that you have us all wrapped around your finger, Elain Archeron.” 

Elain only shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Azriel stepped closer to her, his arms dropping. 

“I think you do,” he crooned, and ran one finger across the base of her throat. 

The scent of Elain’s arousal rose up to him.

Bad idea. This was a bad idea. He should not be touching her, already semi-hard, with only one hour before his brother would reemerge for a shared meal. 

He ground his teeth in restraint even as he moved his hand to grip her bottom lip between his fingers. He stroked it with his thumb and opened his mouth to speak, when Elain’s eyes shifted to white and her knees buckled.

Pure instinct took over as Azriel caught Elain before she could hit the floor, and he lowered her down to the rug. Elain’s eyes remained white and unseeing as her body went boneless.

Elain was having a vision. 

His heart thumping erratically, Azriel only watched her with a warrior’s focus and anticipation. He kept his arms around her and cradled her head in his lap. 

It ain't coming today but it IS coming-

And a cute lil moodboard

Az just silently strode to Rhysand, sliding the card from his pocket and into his brother's hand. 

Nothing but a messenger of death. 

He turned and walked towards their armory closet behind the sitting room. He silently pulled out weapon after weapon, strapping them to every part of his body. 

Rhys followed, speaking. “Stop, Az. We need to stop and think. This is likely a trap. We need a plan.”

Az didn't look at him. “I have a plan. Kill them all.”

Rhysand grabbed his arm. “You will fucking die if you try that.”

Az looked straight into his brother’s eyes. He knew his own were empty. Nothing but a messenger of death. 

IDK what's better, soft Az or unhinged Az 🥵 this comes from one of my fave chapters I have written I love it sm

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Before even a shoulder blade was exposed, Azriel had stepped through his shadows and appeared at the male’s side, and in less than a heartbeat he had gripped the vermin’s wrist and winnowed them into the alley behind Rita’s. 

The tall, thin male was gaping and staggering back in alarm, but Azriel wrapped his hand around the faerie’s throat and slammed him against the wall, lifting him off his feet. 

The male sputtered and thrashed but Azriel pressed his other arm across his torso. White hot rage was coursing through his blood, roaring filling his ears. He would rip this piece of trash to shreds. 

“First of all,” Azriel said too quietly, his face inches from the male’s and his voice pure ice and death. Here was the Spymaster they all feared. Here was the monster and torturer of the Night Court. 

“Don't touch my fucking jacket.” 

The male looked positively terrified then, eyes bugging out and grappling his hands against the arm that crossed him. Azriel kept his fingers gripped tightly around his throat. 

Shadows were coiling like snakes across the high fae’s torso, around his arms and legs.

“Second,” he pushed his elbow into the male's gut. 

“I should kill you for touching a female without her permission.” 

Tears began forming in the corners of the male’s eyes.