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[onebadassunicorn]

His Blue-Eyed Angel

pairing: Azriel x Reader

content warnings: some smut and some serious angst :(

word count: 12.8k

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Story tags: @bravo-delta-eccho @tele86 @tiredsleepyhead @celestialgilb @theflowerswillbloom @fuckingsimp4azriel @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret

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***************

Chapter 12

Y/n POV 

Velaris’s streets had been transformed for the night’s grand masquerade, and there was no shortage of inventive costumes. But as Rhysand and Feyre stepped into the lamplight, they easily stole the show. They descended the marble steps of the townhouse wearing sleek, tailored ensembles inspired by a distant, unknown legend—perhaps something Rhysand had glimpsed in one of Amren’s stranger tomes or a curious book Feyre had found hidden in a dusty corner of the House of Wind’s library.

Rhysand’s attire was cut from the finest black leather, molded to his tall, lean frame. A sweeping cloak of midnight velvet draped from his shoulders, and the chest piece bore a stylized emblem—a black bat silhouetted against a subtle gray background—stitched with shimmering thread that caught the city lights. He wore a cowl that covered the upper half of his face, leaving his strong jaw and mischievous smirk visible beneath it. His wings were cleverly glamoured beneath the cape, making him seem more mysterious, more mortal, like a mythic vigilante prowling the cobbled streets of Velaris.

Feyre’s outfit mirrored Rhysand’s, though fitted to her graceful curves. She wore a sleek, black bodysuit with subtle accents in midnight-blue stitching. A shorter cape fell to her lower back, flaring slightly when she moved. Like Rhysand’s chest piece, hers displayed the same emblem—a silent declaration that she stood as his equal, his partner. Her cowl, more streamlined than his, framed her face elegantly, leaving her mouth and a hint of her high cheekbones bare. She had refused to hide her hair entirely, allowing a few strands of her brown locks to tumble artfully from beneath the mask.

Under the glow of faelight, the two of them drew gazes from every passerby. Rhysand grinned beneath the mask, his violet eyes gleaming through the narrow slits. Feyre moved lightly at his side, a confident tilt to her chin. They looked as if they’d stepped straight from a storybook—two daring shadows come to life, ready to protect their city with wit and cunning rather than brute force.

As they crossed through the square on their way to Rita’s, the crowd parted as if drawn by a silent understanding of who they were—even if they could not guess the story behind the strange, winged creatures on their chests. Feyre teased Rhysand, whispering into his ear that he looked rather intimidating in his mask, while he countered that she looked ready to outsmart a hundred villains with just one glare.

Mor led the way, her laughter ringing out like music over the cobblestones. She was dressed as a red devil, and she owned it. The sleek, crimson bodysuit clung to her like a second skin, the plunging neckline a testament to her confidence. A pair of small, curved horns perched on her head, glittering faintly under the moonlight, and her long blonde hair fell in golden waves down her back. In her hand, she carried a red pitchfork, twirling it idly as her sharp heels clicked with purpose.

“Let me guess,” Mor said, turning back to the others with a wicked grin, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re all secretly jealous of my horns. Admit it.”

Cassian, striding beside her in his costume as a gladiator—complete with a bronze chest plate and leather skirt—snorted. “Jealous? You look like you escaped from a child’s nightmare.”

Mor gasped dramatically, clutching her chest as though wounded. “You’re just mad because my costume is better than yours. Admit it, Cass. You couldn’t pull off red even if your life depended on it.”

“I don’t need to pull off red,” Cassian shot back, his grin matching her wickedness. “I pull off bronze just fine, don’t I?” He flexed his arms for emphasis, making Feyre roll her eyes.

“Stop flirting,” Rhysand drawled lazily from the back of the group, though his violet eyes glinted with amusement. He walked arm in arm with Feyre, who bumped her shoulder into him, her smile fond as she whispered something that made his smirk widen. 

I walked beside them, in my pirate costume Mor I insisted I buy for tonight’s party.  My heart beating a little faster than usual, I was still growing accustomed to this place—Velaris, with its endless kindness and charm, still learning to ease my guard in the presence of those who had quickly begun to feel like family. 

Azriel trailed slightly behind, his costume drawing more than a few curious stares. The green and red suit accentuated his tall, lean frame, and the black mask only made him more striking. His shadows seemed oddly muted tonight, curling lazily around him as though taking a break from their usual restlessness. But his hazel eyes were sharp, scanning the crowd even as he remained silent.

Elain walked beside Azriel, the golden-haired Archeron sister dazzling as an Amazon warrior in her red and gold armor, her soft smile lighting up the path ahead. She said something quietly to Azriel, her tone warm, and he nodded once, though his gaze drifted briefly to me before returning to the street ahead.

Amren had chosen a severe, structured outfit of sharp lines and fine velvet, paired with a mask that elongated at the sides like sweeping horns. She walked a pace behind, unimpressed by the theatrics but enjoying the night’s promise of good wine and entertainment.

“I think I see Rita’s up ahead,” Feyre said, pointing toward the glowing entrance where a line of fae in elaborate costumes waited to enter.

Mor twirled her pitchfork again, a wicked grin curling her lips. “Ah, Rita’s. A place where bad decisions are made, and bad ideas thrive. Let’s make it a night to remember, shall we?”

“You mean a night for you to make bad decisions,” Cassian quipped, earning a sly wink from Mor.

As they reached the door, Mor turned back to the group, her grin widening as she gestured grandly with her pitchfork. “Come on, my loyal mortals,” she said dramatically. “The devil commands you to party like it’s your last night in Prythian.”

Feyre laughed, Rhys shook his head fondly, and Cassian muttered something under his breath about needing more alcohol. Azriel remained silent, his gaze flickering briefly to me again before he stepped inside with the rest of the group, shadows trailing at his heels.

And as the doors to Rita’s opened and the music spilled out into the night, Mor led the way, her horns glittering and her laughter echoing like the promise of chaos.

******

Y/n POV

The exterior had been draped in silks of various colors—amethyst, emerald, and gold. Paper lanterns dangled overhead, and Harpys—a local acrobatic troupe—performed on a makeshift platform, their movements reflected in the polished windows.

Inside, the music surged, a lively tune that urged everyone to dance. Costumed revelers pressed in from all sides and Rita’s sprawling bar was backed by mirrors that caught and multiplied the twinkling fairy lights strung across the ceiling.

I found myself at the back of the group as we made our way through the crowd toward the bar. Feyre deftly slipped between partygoers, Rhysand following with an easy confidence that parted the crowds. Cassian’s booming laugh rolled ahead of them, turning a few heads, while Mor and Amren drifted behind, keeping their own easy pace. Azriel settled beside Elain, guiding her gently with a subtle press of his elbow so she didn’t lose them in the throng.

At the bar, the bartender—a fae with a smiling fox mask—tipped his head in greeting. Colorful bottles lined the shelves, potions and liquors in every hue. Cassian ordered something strong and sweet, while Mor demanded a sparkling concoction said to taste like summer rain. Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a private look before they each requested a signature Rita’s special—whatever that might be tonight. Amren quietly asked for her usual: a blood-red wine, dry and full-bodied.

And when the bartender turned to me, I hesitated, uncertain. I looked to Mor, who offered an encouraging grin. 

I finally spoke over the din, “I’ll have what Feyre’s having.” A safe choice, a link between myself and these people who had welcomed me into their fold. As the bartender got to work, I relaxed a fraction. Surrounded by friends—by family—I began to believe I could belong here, in this kaleidoscope of laughter, music, and shimmering costumes.

******

Azriel POV 

Later that evening, as the clamor and brightness of Rita’s masquerade party swelled behind him, Azriel slipped out onto one of the bar’s balcony landings. He rarely took center stage in such festivities; he preferred to linger in the quiet margins, in watchful shadows. But tonight, thanks to Rhysand’s and Feyre’s outlandish costumes, the entire Inner Circle had indulged in their shared whimsy. Which meant he was dressed in a style he’d never have chosen for himself: a fitted outfit of red and green leather, high boots that glinted with polished leather, and a short cape in a brilliant shade of yellow. He had glamoured his wings because they just didn’t seem to fit with his costume theme. A simple half-mask, black and angular, framed his eyes and seemed to sharpen his gaze.

He looked, well… like a sidekick, he supposed. A guardian-in-training. A bright dash of color no one would have expected from the Night Court’s spymaster. Yet, when Rhysand had hinted that this costume would “suit his quiet valor,” and Mor had jokingly nudged him with, “You’ll look adorable,” Azriel had decided to humor them. It was just one night, after all. One night to be something different.

The gentle hush of the night air and a hint of distant music drifted around him as he rested his forearms on the balcony’s railing. He hadn’t expected to be followed, least of all by her. 

Y/n walked out on the balcony, her dark hair cascading down her back like a shimmering curtain of midnight. But it wasn’t her hair that held his attention—it was the outfit. She was dressed as a pirate, but not the type who’d be hidden away on a ship. Her leather corset hugged her curves perfectly, laced tightly at the front and accentuating her small waist. A deep crimson skirt with slits up both sides revealed her toned legs with every step she took, and tall thigh high black boots completed the look. A black hat with a crimson feather perched at a rakish angle on her head, and her usual confidence was amplified by the mischievous smile playing on her lips.

Time seemed to pause for Azriel in that moment, the noise fading into the background as his gaze drank her in. She was breathtaking, striking in a way that made his chest ache.

His hazel eyes traced every detail of her costume, from the glint of the gold chains at her hip to the dagger sheathed at her thigh—an authentic touch that made his lips twitch. Even here, at a costume party, she carried a weapon. 

Of course she does, he thought with a flicker of admiration.

But it wasn’t just her outfit that drew him—it was the way she carried herself. He tore his gaze away for a moment, trying to focus on anything else, but it was impossible. She was magnetic, her presence pulling at him as if the bond thrumming faintly in his chest refused to let him look away.

When she spotted him on the balcony as well, her smile faltered for just a fraction of a second, her gaze locking with his. The moment stretched between them, her eyes wide, as if surprised by his focus on her. Azriel’s jaw tightened, his shadows shifting slightly around his shoulders, betraying the tension coiling within him.

What are you doing, Azriel? he berated himself. He shouldn’t be looking at her like this. Shouldn’t be imagining what it would feel like to trail his fingers along the exposed skin of her thigh, to tug at the laces of that corset and see what lay beneath. He clenched his hands into fists, his knuckles brushing the edge of the railing as he forced himself to look away.

But it was useless. His gaze flicked back to her almost immediately, drawn by some unseen force. 

And then she stopped—right beside him.

She took in his costume one careful inch at a time, her gaze traveling over the rich hues, the sleek mask, the embroidered emblem on his chest. A faint, disbelieving smile curved at the corners of her lips.

“This is unexpected,” she said, voice soft, yet threaded with amusement. “I never thought I’d see you in… something so bright.”

Azriel felt heat creep along his neck, though he managed a small half-smile. “I’m still not entirely sure how Rhysand talked me into this.” He tugged gently at the edge of his cape, as though trying to smooth a wrinkle—or maybe hide behind it. “He said it would fit the theme.”

She stepped closer. The moonlight shimmered over the dark waves of her hair, and the scent of jasmine and sea salt clung faintly to her skin. She tilted her head, her blue eyes catching the light. “Robin, isn’t that what he called you tonight?” The name rolled off her tongue with a teasing lilt.

Azriel cleared his throat. “It’s from the same strange story they plucked their costumes from. Robin is… a trusted partner, I gather. Someone who stands beside the hero.” A subtle shrug of his shoulders. He let the implication hang in the warm night air: that he was a supporting role, a reliable presence, never the main character.

Y/n’s eyes softened. “Standing beside someone doesn’t make you any less important. I’ve heard rumors about this… hero and sidekick. Robin’s loyalty, his quick thinking, and his willingness to step into danger for others. It sounds… familiar.” Her voice held a gentle note, a rare warmth directed just at him.

Azriel’s throat tightened at that, the faint praise laced with understanding. He tried to formulate a response that wouldn’t betray the swirl of emotion within him, but she saved him by leaning in slightly, a playful sparkle in her eyes. “If you ask me,” Y/n said, her tone conspiratorial, “you wear it well. I think this Robin would be proud to have you in his stead.”

Azriel blinked, surprised pleasure flickering in his gaze. He didn’t know if it was the mask granting him courage, but he allowed himself a quieter, warmer smile than usual. “You think so?”

She nodded, stepping just close enough that he caught the shine of starlight in her eyes. “I do. I’m glad I got to see this side of you.” Her gaze flicked briefly over his shoulders, at the colored cape. “The colors suit you in a way I wouldn’t have imagined. It’s… a reminder that even shadows can wear bright things, if only for a night.”

Azriel exhaled softly, a sound that could have been the start of a laugh. He found himself grateful for the mask that concealed enough of his face to hide the full extent of his surprise—and pleasure. “Then maybe I’ll have to keep it,” he teased, surprising himself with the lightness in his tone. “Wear it around Velaris sometime, just to keep everyone on their toes.”

Y/n smiled, a real, radiant one that softened the edges of the night. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice quiet. For a moment, the music and laughter from inside faded into the background, and the two of them stood there, side by side under the Velaris moon. Azriel’s then turned back to her, his gaze lingered over her curves and costume as he drank her in. 

“Enjoying the view, Spymaster?” she teased, her voice low and playful as she tilted her head, the crimson feather in her hat swaying with the movement. Her lips curled into a sly smile, her eyes glinting with amusement as she leaned slightly closer, the scent of her teasing his senses.

Azriel’s throat tightened, his usually steady demeanor slipping for a moment as he struggled to find words. “It’s… a bold costume,” he managed, his voice rougher than usual.

Her smile widened, and there was something almost daring in her expression. “Bold is one word for it,” she said lightly.

His shadows curled tighter, betraying his emotions even as he forced himself to keep his expression neutral. “It suits you,” he said quietly, his gaze flickering down her figure to the dagger sheathed at her thigh before he dragged it back to her face. “Dangerous and beautiful.”

Y/n stilled, the teasing glint in her eyes softening as a faint flush colored her cheeks. 

“I need to go back inside,” he said abruptly, stepping back from the railing. His shadows swirled tighter around him, agitated and restless, reflecting the turmoil he was so carefully trying to hide. “Enjoy the party, Y/n.”

******

Y/n POV

The air on the balcony was cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the heat and noise inside Rita’s. I leaned against the railing, the city lights of Velaris shimmering below me as Itook a deep breath, trying to steady the flurry of emotions racing through my chest. The party inside was in full swing, the music and laughter spilling out into the night, but I’d needed a moment to myself. Seeing Azriel tonight, the way his eyes had lingered on me in my costume, had stirred something deep inside me—something confusing and raw.

I adjusted the brim of my pirate hat, my fingers brushing the crimson feather as I shook my head. Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself. He’s with Elain. He’s always been with Elain.

The soft sound of boots against the stone pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned just as Lucien stepped out onto the balcony. The golden glow of the city lights danced across his face, highlighting his sharp features and the striking contrast of his long auburn red hair. He was dressed as a pirate too, though his outfit was a little more rugged—dark leather trousers tucked into polished boots, a loose shirt opened to show his chiseled chest with a fitted brown suede vest. He had several pendants around his neck and his weapons hung off the belts around his waist. He topped it off with a sexy black eyepatch over his mechanical eye. 

“Well, well,” he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips as he leaned casually against the railing beside me. “It seems we’ve had the same idea tonight. Did you plan this?”

I raised a brow, trying to suppress the small smile threatening to form. “Hardly. I think you’re the one copying me, Lucien.”

His smirk widened as he tilted his head, gleaming with mischief. “If I am, it’s only because you wear it so well. But I must say…” He straightened, gesturing between our matching costumes. “We make quite the pair, don’t we?”

I rolled my eyes, though my smile slipped through this time. “Don’t let Mor hear you say that. She’d take credit for both of our costumes.”

Lucien chuckled, his deep, rich laugh warming the cool night air. “That does sound like her,” he admitted. He paused, studying me for a moment before his expression softened. “You look incredible, Y/n. The costume suits you.”

My cheeks flushed faintly, and I turned back toward the city, fiddling with the edge of my hat. “Thanks,” I said quietly, the genuine sincerity in his voice catching me off guard. “You… don’t look so bad yourself.”

He chuckled again, but it was softer this time, and he leaned closer, resting his forearms on the railing as he looked at me. “What are you doing out here, anyway? The party’s inside.”

I sighed, my gaze fixed on the shimmering waters of the Sidra in the distance. “Just needed a breather,” I said after a moment. “It’s a bit overwhelming in there.”

“Ah,” Lucien said knowingly, his voice laced with understanding. “Too many fae in one place, too much noise, and one brooding Shadowsinger staring at you like he’s never seen a woman before?”

My head snapped toward him, my wide eyes meeting his amused gaze. “What are you talking about?” I asked, though the heat rising in my cheeks betrayed me.

Lucien’s smirk deepened, as he straightened. “Oh, come on, Y/n. I’ve known Azriel long enough to recognize that look. He might think he’s subtle, but I’ve seen the way he watches you.” He tilted his head, studying my reaction. “And the way you watch him.”

I swallowed, my hands gripping the railing tightly. “He doesn’t watch me,” I said quickly, though my voice lacked conviction. “He’s… he’s with Elain.”

Lucien’s expression shifted, his smirk fading into something softer, more thoughtful. “Is he?” he asked quietly. “Because from where I’m standing, he seems to be more focused on you than anyone else.”

My heart clenched at his words, but I forced myself to shake my head, turning away again. “You’re wrong,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

Lucien didn’t press me further. Instead, he reached out and gently tugged on the brim of my hat, a faint smile returning to his lips. “Well, if he’s too blind to see what’s in front of him, that’s his loss,” he said lightly. “Because if you ask me, you’re the most stunning woman at this party.”

My breath caught, and I turned to him in surprise, my heart racing at the warmth in his gaze. Before I could respond, Lucien offered me a small bow, the perfect image of a charming pirate. “Now, shall we head back in, Captain?” he asked, holding out his arm with an exaggerated flourish.

Despite myself, I laughed, the tension in my chest easing slightly as I took his arm. “Fine,” I said, shaking my head. “But only if you promise not to call me Captain again.”

“No promises,” Lucien said with a wink, leading me back inside.

But as we re-entered the crowded bar, I felt a familiar pair of hazel eyes on me, sharp and unyielding, even from across the room. When I glanced in Azriel’s direction, his gaze was fixed on where my hand rested on Lucien’s arm, shadows flickering darkly around his shoulders.

And for a moment, the heat of his gaze was almost enough to make me forget everything else. Almost.

******

Y/n POV 

The music at Rita’s had settled into a steady, enticing rhythm as the evening wore on. The costume party was in full swing, and every corner of the bar seemed touched by some fantasy or legend. When I stepped away from the balcony with Lucien and waded back through the throng of revelers, I caught sight of Elain at the far end of the long, polished counter. Elain, usually gentle and understated, had embraced the night’s playful absurdity. She wore armor-like cuffs on her wrists, a gleaming tiara in her softly curling hair, and a red and blue ensemble that paid homage to a warrior woman of legend—an Amazon princess named Diana, Feyre had called her. She radiated confidence and warmth, turning heads as she passed. The pair looked like they had stepped out of a storybook, a flawless couple destined for one another.

“Interesting costume choices, don’t you think?” Mor’s voice cut through my thoughts, a teasing lilt in her tone. I turned to see my friend watching me with a knowing smirk, her sharp gaze darting between me and Azriel.

“Robin suits him,” I replied, my voice carefully neutral as I forced a smile. “And Elain looks… stunning.” I hated how stiff the words sounded, hated how the knot in my chest tightened further as I said them.

“She does,” Mor agreed, though her smirk didn’t fade. “But you didn’t answer my real question.”

I arched a brow, feigning ignorance. “And what question is that?”

Mor’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “What you really think about Azriel and Elain.”

My smile faltered, my gaze dropping to my glass. “I think they look good together,” I said after a moment, the words tasting bitter on my tongue.

Mor tilted her head, studying me with a knowing look. “Interesting,” she murmured, her tone too light to be innocent. “I think they look mismatched.”

My head snapped up, surprise flickering in my eyes. “What do you mean?”

Mor shrugged, a sly smile playing on her lips. “I mean, Azriel may be standing there with her, but I know him well enough to see where his mind is.”

I frowned, my heart thudding in her chest. “And where is that, exactly?”

Mor leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “On the sexy pirate who has him so tied up in knots, he doesn’t know what to do with himself.”

My cheeks flushed, my heart stuttering at the implication. I opened my mouth to argue, to deny it, but Mor had already turned back to the crowd, her smirk widening as she watched Azriel glance in our direction.

My stomach flipped as my gaze followed his, catching the brief flicker of something in his hazel eyes as they locked onto mine for the briefest moment. And then he turned back to Elain, his attention shifting seamlessly as though nothing had happened.

I paused, hovering just at the edge of a knot of partygoers. From my vantage point, I saw Azriel leaning against the bar, his dark hair falling slightly into his eyes, the edges of his robin-themed mask catching the light. He wore it well, even with his shoulders squared as if expecting some danger that would never come. He’d seemed relaxed with me on the balcony before Lucien’s arrival, even teased me lightly. Now, watching him from a distance, I realized that sense of comfort I’d felt moments before was not mine alone to share.

Elain approached him with a gentle smile, and Azriel inclined his head, acknowledging her presence. She said something—I couldn’t make out the words—and Azriel’s lips curved into a quiet, subdued smile in return. They stood close, close enough that Elain’s glossy curls brushed near his shoulder, close enough that my chest tightened at the sight. There was nothing overtly intimate about their stance, yet the ease between them was undeniable. Elain’s laughter, soft and melodic, reached my ears even over the hum of conversation.

I tried to quell the envy, the insecurity coursing through my veins. It was unfair to Elain, who had been nothing but kind, open, and gracious since my arrival. Still, seeing them together—Elain as regal and radiant as a warrior queen, Azriel so at ease by her side—caused a quiet ache in my chest.

It wasn’t the playful banter, or even the teasing glances they exchanged that bothered me. It was the way Azriel, normally so reserved and distant, was allowing it. He was letting Elain into his space, into his proximity in a way that stung deeper than I wanted to admit. My heart twisted painfully in my chest as I watched them, the distance between he and I growing more and more significant with each passing moment. 

And at that moment realized it hit me.

I was in love with Azriel.

And what made it hurt was that Azriel had made his choice...and it wasn’t me.

He had chosen her.

My own costume felt suffocating—too tight around my chest, as though it was somehow mocking me. The corset I wore seemed to accentuate my discomfort, but it was nothing compared to the way my heart twisted as I watched him with Elain. The jealousy that boiled inside me was thick and painful, settling deep in my stomach, making it hard to breathe.

But I couldn’t help the way my eyes were drawn back to them, time and time again. Azriel’s attention was completely focused on Elain, and for some reason, it felt like everything inside me had shattered. The realization that I couldn’t get close enough to him and that it felt like he was slipping away from me—was almost unbearable.

Azriel’s gaze lifted momentarily and swept through the crowd—did he feel me watching him? He straightened a fraction, shadows gathering subtly near his shoulders. Then, as if he found what he was looking for, his eyes met mine across the space, catching me in the act of observing. He didn’t smile, didn’t beckon me over, but something in his gaze hardened. Like I was intruding into something I shouldn’t be. 

And with that thought, I felt something inside me close off. I wouldn’t let him see how much it hurt. 

Not now. 

Not in front of anyone. 

So, I turned away, my heart heavier with each step, determined to hold onto the fragments of myself that were slipping away with every glance I cast in his direction. 

My pulse fluttered. I had no right to jealousy, had no claim over him and yet, the jealous feeling remained, a lump in my throat that wouldn’t subside. I managed a small nod, and forced myself to move, to drift along the bar’s length. I’d find Lucien or Mor, find a reason to laugh, to enjoy the night as I was meant to. 

Still, as I wove through the costumed guests searching for Lucien or Mor, I couldn’t shake the image of them standing side by side. Azriel and Elain—the spymaster and the gentle dreamer turned warrior-goddess for a night.

I met up with Lucien again near the edge of the dance floor, where the crowd thinned just enough for me to spot his distinctive auburn hair.

He straightened as I neared, a grin curving his lips, and welcomed me with an easy bow, offering his hand as the music shifted to a sultry, rhythmic tune. Rita’s had cleared a small space in the center for dancing, and as we stepped into that open circle, I felt the weight of dozens of curious gazes—one in particular.

******

Azriel POV

Azriel’s jaw tightened, his chest tightening with a sharp pang of jealousy as he watched her approach Lucien, and his offering of his hand to her. Then she looked up at him and laughed at whatever Lucien had said. Her smile was radiant, her gaze lighting up in a way that made Azriel’s heart clench. And yet, there was something deeper in his hazel eyes as he watched her—something that burned like a smoldering fire, unyielding and all-consuming.

They were dressed as pirates, the perfect pair. Y/n’s outfit hugged her figure, a corseted jacket of deep black leather. She looked fierce and radiant, her confidence a magnet for every eye in the room. Lucien matched her, his rugged attire equally striking. They looked as if they’d stepped from the pages of a sea-bound epic, a swashbuckling duo come to life.

Azriel’s chest tightened as he watched her laugh at something Lucien said, her hand brushing his arm in a gesture that seemed too familiar, too easy. She looked happy—carefree in a way. And while he knew he had no right to begrudge her joy, the jealousy clawed at him anyway, hot and insistent.

Even as she laughed with Lucien, Azriel couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was everything—his bond, his mate and his self-control was seriously beginning to erode. 

Azriel’s grip on his glass tightened, the cool edge of the tumbler biting into his fingers. His shadows stirred uneasily at his feet, mirroring the storm brewing in his chest. He didn’t need to look around to know others had noticed her too—the way heads turned, admiring glances from fae males trailing her every step. But it wasn’t the others that sparked his jealousy, and it wasn't just her appearance that had his attention-it was who she was dancing with.

Lucien.

Azriel's jaw clenched as he watched them.

Lucien's hands rested on Y/n’s waist, far too comfortably for Azriel's liking, his fingers dangerously close to the lower curve of her back. Every now and then, Lucien's hands would slide lower, just enough to make Azriel's shadows writhe with agitation.

Then there was the way Lucien leaned into her neck, his lips hovering mere inches from her skin as he spoke to her. Whatever he was saying made her laugh softly, and the sound, combined with the way she tilted her head slightly to listen, exposed the delicate line of her throat. Lucien lingered there longer than necessary, his lips so close to her skin that Azriel swore he saw the faintest brush of air between them.

Lucien straightened, his hand on her waist tightening slightly as they danced closer, their bodies almost touching. Their faces were mere inches apart now, their breath mingling as they moved in perfect rhythm to the sultry beat. When she spun, the curls of her hair brushed his cheek; when she stepped forward, her knee slipped between his, bringing them momentarily closer than polite society would ever allow. Her hands went around his neck as they moved and gyrated their hips in a sultry, synchronous dance. The music thrummed, sensual and hypnotic, and their laughter mixed with its pulse.

Y/n’s blue eyes locked onto Lucien's, and the intensity in her gaze made Azriel's chest tighten. Lucien stared back at her as though she were the only person in the room, his gaze fixed on her with a reverence that made Azriel's blood boil.

Their lips were almost touching, their gazes locked, and Lucien seemed utterly lost in her.

He told himself he had no right to feel this way, that she owed him nothing. Fate had bound him to her, but she was free, her desires her own. Still, the quiet ache in his chest refused to fade. His fingertips tapped an erratic rhythm against the bar’s edge as he tried—and failed—to keep his gaze from drifting back to the dancing pair. He motioned the bartender for another shot and slammed it as he motioned again for another one, gripping the glass in a deathlike vice. 

“Careful, Az,” came a voice at his side. He turned to find Cassian leaning casually against the bar, a knowing smirk on his face. “You’re going to shatter that drink with how hard you’re gripping it.”

“I’m fine,” Azriel replied curtly, though the tension in his jaw betrayed him.

A spin brought Y/n face-to-face with Lucien, closer still, and Azriel’s breath caught. The gentle curve of her smile, the glow in her eyes—he knew that glow. He’d seen it on others who found Lucien’s charm enchanting. At that moment, Azriel would have given anything to be the one in front of her, to feel her body responding to the music against his own, to coax that laugh from her lips.

But he remained at a distance, leaning against the bar just off the dance floor, keeping a watchful eye on her. He’d had to swallow down his jealousy more than once tonight as others noticed what he considered to be his. 

His beautiful mate. 

He tried to appear calm, though his posture tense, a subtle sign of the turmoil within him. But the sight of her with Lucien started to become his undoing. 

Lucien’s hand shifted slightly, his thumb brushing a soft circle over her hip, and Azriel's fists clenched at his sides. The way Lucien looked at her-as though she were his—made something dark and possessive roar to life within Azriel.

Beside him, Cassian leaned casually against the bar, swirling his drink in his hand. He followed Azriel's line of sight, his brows rising as he took in the scene on the dance floor.

The music shifted to a an even slower, sultrier beat, and Y/n moved with an effortless grace that made Azriel’s heart twist. Lucien matched her step for step, his hands resting on her hips as he pulled her flush with his body, her arms wrapping tighter around his neck. They swayed together, their bodies so close that Azriel could not see any space between them, their bodies far too close for Azriel’s liking.

Azriel’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought the urge to march onto the dance floor and tear them apart. He could feel the bond between him and Y/n thrumming faintly, an unspoken connection that was only known to him and fueled his jealousy as he watched her smile at Lucien, her body melting more into his they moved.

Azriel's knuckles whitened as he slammed his drink onto the bar with enough force to make the glass rattle. Cassian's gaze snapped back to him.

"Oh shit," Cassian muttered, his eyes darting back to Y/n and Lucien. "This is about to get interesting."

Azriel’s shadows lashed out violently, curling and writhing at his feet as he pushed off the bar and strode toward them. The room seemed to quiet in his mind, the music and laughter fading into the background as his focus narrowed to the two of them.

"That's enough," Azriel said, his voice low but cutting as he grabbed her wrist. His touch wasn't rough, but it was firm, and the intensity in his hazel eyes made her stop mid-step.

"Azriel, what-" she began, her brows knitting in confusion.

"We're talking. Outside. Now," he said sharply, his shadows curling around his boots as he pulled her toward the door.

Lucien started to step forward, but Azriel shot him a look that froze him in place. "Stay out of this," Azriel growled, his voice edged with a warning that even Lucien couldn't ignore.

Y/n barely had time to process what was happening as Azriel guided her outside, the cool night air hitting her face as they stepped into the quiet alley behind Rita's. She yanked her wrist free. 

“What the hell, Az?”

Azriel turned to face her, his hazel eyes blazing. "What the hell were you doing in there? Dancing with him like that? Letting him put his hands all over you?"

Her eyes widened in shock. "Dancing, Azriel. It was just dancing. Why do you care?"

"Why do I care?" he repeated, his voice rising.

The glamour on his wings dissolved, his wings then flaring behind him, and his shadows lashed at the ground. "Because he had his scent all over you. His scent. And you two looked like-like—"

"Like what?" she snapped, stepping closer. "Like a couple? Is that what you're so upset about?"

"Yes!" Azriel yelled, his voice raw with frustration. "You're dressed like pirates together, looking like you walked out of some stupid fantasy book, and you don't even realize how it looks. How it feels to see you with him like that. Lucien—" He stopped abruptly, his chest heaving, before finishing. "Lucien is Elain's mate, Y/n. Don't you think about what that must make Elain feel? How awkward it must be for her?"

Y/n’s eyes narrowed, anger flashing in her stormy blue eyes, the color changing to a deep-sea blue where the ocean water darkens in color as the light can no longer reach it. She was livid, her anger coiled like a snake and ready to strike.

“Elain doesn’t give a shit about Lucien.” She snapped, stepping forward to get in his face. "She's made that very clear. And if you didn't notice, Elain is quite taken with you, Azriel." Her words were sharp, cutting, as she added, "So why does it matter to you?"

Azriel froze, her question hanging heavily in the air. His jaw clenched, his wings twitching as his gaze locked onto hers. "Because you don't belong to him," he said finally, his voice low but filled with unspoken emotion.

Y/n blinked, her breath hitching as she took a step back. "Go back inside, Azriel," she said quietly, crossing her arms as though trying to shield herself. "Go back to Elain. That's what you want, isn't it?"

"No," Azriel said firmly, his voice trembling with the intensity of the word.

"Azriel," she hissed again, her tone sharper now.

"Go back inside. Go back to Elain." She pointed to the door.

"I said no!" Azriel shouted, his voice breaking through the quiet night air as he stepped closer to her, the tension between them was palpable. 

Y/n opened her mouth to argue, but before she could speak, Azriel surged forward, his hands cupping her face as he crushed his lips to hers in a kiss filled with heat, frustration, and something deeper.

She froze for a moment, shocked, but the warmth of his lips, the desperate way he kissed her, broke through her defenses. Slowly, her body relaxed against his, and she kissed him back, her hands moving to his chest, then his shoulders as the kiss deepened.

Azriel groaned softly as her fingers moved up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands slid from her face to her waist, gripping her tightly as he pressed her against the wall, their bodies flush.

His shadows coiled around them, blocking out the world, and he could feel her trembling beneath his touch as he pressed his hard cock against her stomach, wanting her to feel him, feel how she was driving him insane. 

“Gods, angel,” he murmured, as he trailed kisses down her jawline and her neck. “What are you doing to me?” 

She whimpered and the scent of her arousal hit him like a tsunami, mingling with his own, and it nearly undid him. His hands grabbed hers and held them over her head and he pinned her hands down. As his kisses increased in intensity, he held her wrists with one hand and moved the other down her body. She responded with equal intensity, as a soft moan escaped her lips, a sound that sent heat rushing through him, his blood thundering in his veins. 

“You. Are. Mine.” He growled between kisses as his free hand slid up from her waist to her corset, caressing and palming her breast as his mouth continued to devour hers. 

Y/n arched her back against him, seeking the friction she desperately needed against her core as his hand moved down from her breast to the slit in her skirt. He slid his hand up her inner thigh to her lace panties, where he felt the dampness at the apex of her thighs…and he snapped. 

His mouth moved back down to her neck, kissing, licking and biting her skin, her breath coming out in pants. He moved his mouth back up to hers as abruptly pulled her panties aside and ran his fingers over her, his fingers immediately wet from her pussy.

“Mother above, baby, your body is so responsive to me.” He smiled against her mouth as his tongue danced with hers. 

As he his fingers slowly caressed her clit in circles, he swallowed her moans and inserted a finger inside of her, slowly pumping it inside and out.

Fuck, she was intoxicating, and he wanted to just get drunk on her for the rest of eternity. 

“Azriel,” she moaned as he slid another finger inside her. She was sopping wet for him and all he wanted to do was drop his to his knees, pull her leg over his shoulder and feast on her as the scent of her overcame him. 

But then, reality slammed into him.

Azriel pulled away abruptly, his breathing ragged, his hazel eyes wide, pupils blown, with a mix of longing and regret. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have – this was a mistake"

"Azriel, wait," Y/n began, reaching for him, but he stepped back, shaking his head.

"I can't... I can't do this right now," he said, his voice breaking as he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving her alone in the alley with the taste of him still on her lips. 

Back inside, Cassian stood at the bar, watching Azriel storm back in and Y/n’s stunned face visible just outside the door. He shook his head with a low whistle, muttering to himself, "Oh shit." He downed the rest of his drink, knowing full well he'd probably be hearing about this later.

******

Y/n POV

I stood in the cool night air, my back against the wall of the alley behind Rita’s, my chest rising and falling as I tried to steady my breathing. The sounds of the party still filtered faintly through the door, but the world around me felt impossibly quiet, as though the kiss had stolen all sound along with my composure.

My fingers trembled as they brushed against my lips, still tingling from the heat of Azriel’s kiss. I could feel him there, the ghost of his touch lingering like a brand. It had been fiery, raw, and so filled with emotion that it left me reeling. I could still feel the pressure of his hands on my face, the weight of his body against mine, the way his shadows had seemed to cocoon us from the rest of the world.

The cool air brushing against face did nothing to calm the storm inside me. I closed my eyes, trying to push away the memory of his hazel eyes blazing with intensity, of the possessiveness in his voice when he’d said I didn’t belong to Lucien and claimed me as his.  

Confusion swirled through my mind, mixing with anger and longing in equal measure. Why had he kissed me? Why had he acted so… possessive? He’d stormed out of the party, dragging me away from Lucien, chastising me as though I’d done something wrong. But I hadn’t. Had I?

My brows furrowed as my thoughts turned to Lucien. We’d been dancing—close, yes, but it had been harmless. Or at least, I’d thought it was. Lucien was my friend, nothing more. The idea that Azriel had thought otherwise made my chest tighten with frustration. 

But Azriel’s words lingered, cutting through my confusion like shards of glass. “Because you don’t belong to him.” His voice had been filled with something raw, something I couldn’t ignore. And the way he’d looked at me… like I was his entire world, like the very idea of me with someone else was unbearable.

My fingers curled into fists at my sides as I opened my eyes, staring out into the dark alley. I didn’t know what to think, didn’t know how to process the whirlwind of emotions that the kiss had stirred within me. All I knew was that it had awakened something in me, something I could no longer ignore.

My heart pounded as I replayed the moment in my mind, over and over again. The warmth of his lips, the way his scent—cedar, mist, and shadows—had wrapped around me, the way he’d kissed me and touched me like he was claiming me, like I was his. It had left me breathless, confused, and yearning for him.

But then he’d pulled away, his expression filled with regret, and his apology had stung more than I cared to admit. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—” The words echoed in my mind, leaving a hollow ache in my chest. He’d walked away, disappearing into the shadows without giving me a chance to respond, to ask him what it all meant.

I pressed my hand against my chest, trying to calm the erratic beat of my heart. I didn’t know what to do with this—didn’t know how to handle the fire he’d ignited within me. All I knew was that I still felt him, in the warmth lingering on my lips, in the way my body ached to be close to him again, to feels his strong hands all over me.

I shook my head, letting out a shaky breath as I straightened. I couldn’t stay out here, couldn’t let myself get lost in the confusion and longing that threatened to overwhelm me. But as I stepped back toward the party, my thoughts were still consumed by him—by the kiss, by the emotions he’d unleashed, and by the way my heart seemed to ache in his absence.

I didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to feel. All I knew was that Azriel had left his mark on me in a way that felt as permanent as the stars, and I wasn’t sure if I could ever let it go.

“Y/n?”

The voice startled me, and I turned to see Mor standing in the doorway, her golden hair catching the dim light spilling from Rita’s. Mor’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern as she took in my flushed face and the slightly dazed look in my eyes.

“What happened?” Mor asked, stepping closer, her voice softer now but laced with determination.

I hesitated, my fingers brushing my lips again before I let out a shaky breath. “Azriel,” I said simply, the name heavy with emotion.

Mor’s brows shot up, and she tilted her head, urging me to continue.

“He—he pulled me out here,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. “We argued about Lucien, about dancing with him. And then… he kissed me.”

Mor’s eyes widened, and she let out a low whistle, crossing her arms as she leaned against the wall beside me. “Well,” she said, dragging the word out. “That’s a development. What did you do?”

I pulled my hat off and ran a hand through my hair, as I tried to find the right words. “I kissed him back,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing. “But then he pulled away and apologized. And then he… he just walked away.”

Mor frowned, her expression darkening as she considered my words. “That idiot,” she muttered under her breath.

I turned to her, confused. “What do you think is happening, Mor? Why would he… why would he do that?”

Mor let out a sigh, shaking her head. “Azriel has spent his entire life keeping his emotions locked up, trying to convince himself he doesn’t deserve happiness. But you…” She gestured at me, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re the first person I’ve seen him look at like this. Like he can’t breathe when you’re not near him.”

I blinked, my breath hitching at Mor’s words. “But he apologized. He looked… regretful. Like it was a mistake.”

“That’s because he’s an idiot,” Mor said flatly, rolling her eyes. “He’s terrified, Y/n. He doesn’t know how to handle what he feels for you, and instead of facing it, he’s going to pretend it’s not there. Classic Az.”

I frowned, my confusion deepening. “What am I supposed to do with that? Just… wait for him to figure it out?”

Mor turned to me fully, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “Absolutely not,” she said firmly. “What you’re going to do is refuse to let him ruin your night.”

Before I could respond, Mor grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the door. “The night is still young, and you’re not going to stand out here sulking because Azriel can’t get his head out of his ass.”

“Wait, Mor—” I started, but Mor cut her off with a determined shake of her head.

“Nope,” Mor said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “We’re leaving. We’re going to have fun. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Once inside, Mor scanned the room until her eyes landed on Lucien, still standing near the edge of the dance floor, looking mildly confused. She marched over with me reluctantly trailing behind her.

“Lucien,” Mor said, her tone bright and cheerful as she looped her arm through his. “We’re taking Y/n somewhere else. Another bar, something more fun. You in?”

Lucien glanced between Mor and I, his eye narrowing slightly as he seemed to piece together what had happened. But then he smiled, a small, knowing grin tugging at his lips. “Absolutely,” he said, his voice warm. “Lead the way.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Mor silenced me with a pointed look. “You’re coming too, Y/n,” Mor said, tugging me along. “No arguments.”

Mor dropped Lucien’s arm, and he placed his hand on the small of my back to lead me out of the bar. As we turned toward the door, I froze for a moment, my heart skipping a beat. Azriel was standing near the bar, his arms crossed over his chest, his hazel eyes blazing as he watched us. The shadows around his feet were restless, curling and snapping in agitation, and his jaw was set in a hard line.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, but his expression said everything. He was furious. With himself or with me, I wasn’t sure which. 

I swallowed hard, my heart twisting at the sight of him, but Mor didn’t give me time to linger. She tugged me toward the exit, and Lucien with his hand at the small of my back, leading me out of of Rita’s and into the night.

I could still feel Azriel’s gaze burning into my back as we walked away, my thoughts a tangled mess of confusion, longing, and frustration. And as we headed down the street to another bar, I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight was far from over.

******

Azriel POV

Azriel stormed back into the bar, the door slamming shut behind him as his shadows curled and snapped around his boots, reflecting the storm raging inside him. The kiss still burned on his lips, the feel of Y/n pressed against him seared into his memory, her moaning his name as his fingers found her wet and ready for him to take her. And yet, he had apologized. Called it a mistake. Even though every fiber of his being screamed that it wasn’t.

He made his way back to the bar, his jaw clenched and his hazel eyes blazing with frustration. Without a word, he motioned the bartender for a shot and swallowed it down, motioning for another and another drink, shooting them in succession, his throat burning, but it did nothing to dull the emotions tearing him apart.

“Azriel?” a soft voice called, tentative and concerned.

He turned his head slightly to see Elain approaching, her brows knitted together in worry. She looked delicate and lovely, as always, her voice a balm to some. But not to him. Not now.

“Are you alright?” she asked, stepping closer. Her hand reached out to touch his arm, a light, comforting gesture, but it only made his muscles tense further. “You seem… upset.”

Azriel didn’t answer, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on the door. And then, she walked back in.

Y/n.

Her blue eyes found his almost instantly, and the weight of her gaze made his chest tighten. She looked confused, vulnerable, and achingly beautiful as the faint glow of the lights caught on her dark hair. Lucien, his arm linked with Mor, came up beside her. Lucien moved his hand to rest lightly on the small of Y/n’s back as they moved through the crowd. The sight made Azriel’s grip on his glass tighten until it threatened to shatter.

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment, her expression sad, almost pleading, before she turned her gaze away and let Lucien lead her out of the bar, his hand still resting on the small of her back. 

Azriel’s breath hitched, the ache in his chest unbearable. He barely noticed Elain leaning closer, her voice soft in his ear as she tried to offer more words of comfort. “Azriel, do you want to talk? Maybe we can—”

“Not now,” Azriel snapped, his voice low but sharp. He shook her off, stepping away from her touch.

Elain blinked, startled by his tone, and took a step back, her lips parting as though she wanted to say more. But Azriel’s focus wasn’t on her. His hazel eyes remained locked on Y/n as she moved toward the door with Lucien.

When she disappeared from sight, Azriel let out a harsh breath and turned back to the bar, signaling the bartender for another shot. He drank heavily, his shadows swirling more erratically now, their movements mirroring the turmoil within him.

Cassian appeared beside him, his brows furrowed as he leaned against the bar. “What the hell is going on, Az?” he asked, his voice low but laced with concern. “You’ve been storming around like you’re ready to kill someone. And what was that with Elain?”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the glass in his hand as though it held answers to questions he couldn’t ask.

Cassian narrowed his eyes, his tone sharper now. “Fine. If you don’t want to talk about Elain, then let’s talk about Y/n. What happened with her?”

Azriel’s grip on his glass tightened, the tension in his body palpable. He exhaled sharply, his jaw clenching as he muttered, “Nothing worth talking about.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian said, crossing his arms. “You’re drinking like a madman, glaring at Lucien like you want to rip his head off, and Y/n looked like she’d just been through hell. What. Happened?”

Azriel’s hazel eyes darkened, his shadows flaring briefly as he shot Cassian a warning look. “Leave it, Cassian.”

But Cassian didn’t back down. “Brother,” he said, his voice quieter but no less firm, “if you don’t claim her, someone else will.”

A low growl rumbled in Azriel’s chest, quiet but unmistakable. His shadows snapped around his boots, restless and agitated, as his wings flared slightly. “Don’t,” he warned, his voice edged with fury.

Cassian raised a brow, unfazed by the reaction. “I don’t understand you,” he said, his tone laced with frustration. “You’re clearly losing your mind over her, but instead of doing something about it, you’re standing here drinking yourself into a rage.”

Azriel turned away, his hands gripping the edge of the bar as he tried to steady himself. “It’s not that simple,” he said finally, his voice low and rough.

Cassian shook his head, a mixture of sympathy and exasperation crossing his face. “You’re going to lose her, Az. And when you do, you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

Azriel didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the glass in his hand. The shadows around him stilled briefly, as though even they were holding their breath.

But Cassian’s words lingered, cutting through the haze of anger and confusion like a blade. And as Azriel poured himself another drink, his mind raced with the one thought he couldn’t escape: he didn’t deserve her. But gods, how he wanted her anyway.

******

Y/n POV

As the three of us walked down the bustling streets of Velaris, the music and chatter of Rita’s fading behind us, Lucien glanced down at me, his amber eye gleaming with curiosity. He shifted slightly, then draped his arm casually around my shoulders, pulling me close enough to block the chill of the night air.

“All right,” he said, his tone light but probing. “Are you going to tell me what happened back there, or do I have to guess?”

I tensed slightly under his arm, and glanced up at him, my eyes still shadowed with the confusion and emotions swirling inside me. “It’s… complicated,” I said finally, my voice quiet.

“Complicated?” Lucien echoed, his brows arching as he studied me. “Y/n, you looked like you’d seen a ghost when Mor dragged you back inside. Then there’s Azriel, glaring at me like he’s about to summon the shadows to throttle me. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘complicated.’ It screams drama.”

Before I could answer, Mor let out a snort of laughter, her golden hair catching the moonlight as she turned to look at us. “Oh, it’s definitely drama,” she said, her tone teasing but edged with a knowing sharpness.

Lucien tilted his head at Mor. “Care to share, oh wise one?”

Mor grinned, tossing a glance at me, who groaned softly in response. “Azriel kissed her,” Mor said matter-of-factly, her grin widening as Lucien’s eyebrows shot up.

“Kissed her?” Lucien repeated, his voice filled with surprise. He looked down at me again, his arm still resting comfortably across my shoulders. “That’s what this is about? The Shadowsinger finally made a move and then what, freaked out and left?”

I let out a shaky sigh, wrapping my arms around myself as we walked. “We argued about… you,” I admitted, my cheeks flushing slightly. “He was upset about us dancing, about how it looked. And then, out of nowhere, he kissed me. But then he apologized and walked away like it was a mistake.”

Lucien whistled low under his breath, his grip on my shoulder tightening slightly in a reassuring gesture. “That explains the death glare,” he said, his voice laced with dry humor. “But why in the world would he think it was a mistake?”

Mor rolled her eyes, her pace quickening as she turned to walk backward so she could face us. “Because Azriel is Azriel,” she said, her tone exasperated. “He’s terrified of his feelings, convinced he doesn’t deserve happiness, and instead of owning up to what he clearly feels for her, he’s probably sulking back at Rita’s, brooding and feeling sorry for himself.”

Lucien raised a brow at her, his smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You sound like you’ve rehearsed that.”

“Oh, trust me, I’ve had plenty of practice when it comes to Azriel and his brooding,” Mor replied, her grin sharp. She turned to me, pointing a finger at me. “But you, my dear, are not going to let him ruin your night. If he wants to sit there sulking in the corner, that’s on him. You? You’re going to have fun.”

I glanced between Mor and Lucien, my chest tightening as I tried to process everything that had happened. I could still feel the heat of Azriel’s kiss, the way his shadows had curled around us like they were in our own world. But then there was the regret in his eyes as he pulled away, the way he’d disappeared into the night like he couldn’t face what he’d done.

“I don’t know what to think,” I admitted softly, my voice barely audible over the buzz of the city.

Lucien’s arm tightened around my shoulders again, and he tilted his head to catch my gaze. “Then don’t think,” he said gently. “Just let yourself have a good time tonight. Whatever Azriel’s deal is, it’s his to figure out. You don’t owe him anything, Y/n.”

Mor nodded firmly, spinning back around as they approached the glowing lights of another bar. “Exactly. Let him stew in his own mess while we drink and dance and remind Velaris why we’re the most fun people in this court.”

I couldn’t help but laugh softly at Mor’s enthusiasm, a small smile tugging at my lips. “Fine,” I said, my voice a little stronger. “You’re both impossible, but fine.”

“That’s the spirit,” Mor said, grabbing Lucien’s other arm and pulling him toward the bar. “Come on, let’s show this place what a real party looks like.”

And as we stepped inside, I allowed myself, for just a little while, to focus on the warmth of my friends and the noise of the crowd. But no matter how much I tried to push it away, the feel of Azriel’s lips on mine, and the fire he’d ignited, lingered in the back of my mind, a constant reminder of the storm waiting for me when the night finally ended.

******

Azriel POV

Azriel returned to the House of Wind in the dead of night, the city lights of Velaris twinkling faintly behind him as he stepped into the quiet halls. His shadows curled around him, restless and agitated, mirroring the storm inside his chest. The memory of Y/n —her lips, her scent, her touch—was etched into his mind, refusing to fade no matter how hard he tried to drown it out.

He made his way to the sitting room, bypassing the dimly glowing hearth to grab the bottle of whiskey on the side table. Without bothering to pour a glass, he sank into one of the chairs, his wings drooping behind him as he uncorked the bottle and took a long drink. The burn down his throat was sharp and welcome, but it did little to numb the ache in his chest.

He wanted her. Gods, how he wanted her. It wasn’t just her beauty—though that alone could bring him to his knees. It was her strength, her fire, the way her laugh lit up a room and the way she met him as an equal, challenging him at every turn. She had walked into his life and completely undone him, and now he didn’t know how to exist without her.

But she didn’t know. She didn’t know about the bond thrumming between them, didn’t know that every glance, every touch, every word they exchanged felt like a piece of his soul being stitched back together. And she couldn’t know. Because no matter how much he wanted her—needed her—he couldn’t allow himself to have her.

He took another long swig from the bottle, his hazel eyes narrowing as his mind replayed the events of the night. The way Lucien’s hand had rested so casually on her waist, the way they had laughed together like they shared secrets no one else could touch. The way Lucien had touched what was his.

A low growl rumbled in Azriel’s chest, his shadows lashing out and curling along the edges of the room. 

Lucien.

He had wanted to rip him apart right there in the bar, to throw him against the wall and make it clear that Y/n wasn’t his to touch. 

Azriel’s grip tightened around the bottle, his knuckles whitening as he tried to steady the fury building inside him. He hated the possessiveness that roared to life whenever he saw her with someone else, hated how it made him feel out of control, like a beast barely contained. But what he hated most was the jealousy—the quiet, insidious voice in his mind that whispered he might lose her to someone else. To someone better.

Because he didn’t deserve her.

That truth had always loomed over him like a shadow. His past was steeped in blood and darkness, his hands stained with the lives he had taken, the lives he had ruined. He was broken, fractured in ways that could never be healed, and he had spent centuries convincing himself that he wasn’t worthy of happiness. Of love.

Y/n deserved more than him. She deserved light and laughter and someone who could give her the world without the weight of shadows dragging her down. And even though every part of him screamed to claim her, to tell her the truth, he knew he couldn’t.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared into the flickering firelight. The bottle dangled loosely from his hand, forgotten for the moment as his mind raced. He had to push her away, no matter how much it hurt. No matter how much it killed him to see her sad, to see her confused, to see her walking away with someone who wasn’t him.

This was better. Safer. For her, if not for him.

But as the night dragged on and the whiskey did little to dull the longing that consumed him, Azriel couldn’t help but wonder if he was lying to himself. If, perhaps, pushing her away wasn’t about protecting her—but about punishing himself.

The thought lingered as he took another swig, the shadows coiling tighter around him like they could hold him together. But even they couldn’t drown out the bond humming faintly in the back of his mind, reminding him of what could never be.

Azriel leaned back in the chair, the bottle of whiskey dangling loosely from his fingers as he took another long drink. The firelight flickered across his face, casting shadows over the sharp planes of his jaw and the tight set of his lips. He barely felt the burn anymore; the alcohol did nothing to quiet the storm in his chest.

He tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling as he let out a slow, shaky breath. But the memory of her wouldn’t leave him. Her azure-blue eyes, the way they had looked at him when she thought he wasn’t watching. The softness of her lips against his, the fire in her touch when she kissed him back. It had been everything he had ever wanted, everything he hadn’t dared to dream of—and he had thrown it away.

This was a mistake.

The words had left his mouth like a blade, cutting through the moment they had shared, tearing apart something he hadn’t even allowed himself to fully acknowledge. Because how could he admit it? That she was his. That the bond between them hummed in his chest like a constant reminder, one she knew nothing about, an ache that grew stronger every time he pushed her away.

He took another drink, the liquid spilling slightly over his lips as his grip tightened around the bottle. His shadows swirled restlessly, curling around his boots and stretching toward the empty room like they were searching for something—someone. They knew what he wanted. Who he wanted.

She. Is. Mine. 

The thought slammed into him, raw and possessive. Lucien’s hand on her waist, the way he had looked at her like she belonged to him. Azriel growled low in his throat, the sound rumbling in the silence as his shadows snapped angrily around him. 

The words echoed in his mind, unspoken but undeniable. His hand clenched around the neck of the bottle, his knuckles white as the jealousy roared to life again. He could still see it—Lucien’s fingers resting too low on her waist, the way he leaned into her laugh like he had a right to be close to her. It made Azriel’s blood boil, the possessive fury threatening to consume him.

He drained the bottle, the whiskey burning as it slid down his throat, but it wasn’t enough. He grabbed another from the side table, his movements jerky and frustrated as he uncorked it and took a deep swig. He wanted to rip Lucien apart, to tear him limb from limb for daring to touch what wasn’t his. 

As the fire burned low and the night stretched on, Azriel drank and brooded, drowning in the desperate, aching need for the mate he couldn’t have—and the fury at anyone who dared to touch her. 

******

Y/n POV

The House of Wind was quiet as Lucien and I stepped inside, the chill of the night air following them. Lucien’s arm rested comfortably around my waist, his touch light but familiar as we walked together. We were laughing softly, an inside joke from our walk still lingering between us, the warmth of the evening’s distraction temporarily easing the tension that had haunted me since leaving Rita’s.

My soft laugh echoed in the quiet hall, but it quickly faded when we stepped into the main sitting room and saw Azriel.

He was slouched in one of the armchairs near the fire, a bottle of amber liquid in his hand, his wings draped loosely over the sides of the chair. The flickering firelight cast sharp shadows over his face, but his expression was clear—dark, brooding, and furious. His hazel eyes immediately locked onto both of us, narrowing as his gaze fell to Lucien’s arm around my waist.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Lucien’s laugh died in his throat, his posture shifting slightly as he caught Azriel’s glare. He didn’t remove his arm from my waist, though I stiffened under his touch as I felt the tension radiating from the Spymaster.

“Well,” Lucien said lightly, his voice breaking the heavy silence, though his amber eye remained fixed on Azriel. “I think that’s my cue to disappear.” He gave me a small smile, his grip on my waist tightening briefly before he let his arm fall away. “I’ll be upstairs if you need me.”

Lucien turned to Azriel briefly, offering him a polite nod, but Azriel didn’t respond. Instead, a sharp, sarcastic laugh escaped him, cold and cutting as his shadows curled more tightly around his boots. The sound stopped Lucien in his tracks, his eye narrowing as he looked back over his shoulder, but he didn’t say anything. After a brief pause, he continued up the stairs, leaving me and Azriel alone.

My heart pounded as I turned to face Azriel, unsure of what to expect. His hazel eyes burned into mine, blazing with intensity as he sat forward in his chair, his wings shifting slightly behind him. His shadows were restless, agitated, curling and snapping at the ground as though reflecting the storm raging within him.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice low and rough, cutting through the silence.

I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to confront whatever this was. But despite myself, I stepped closer.

“I’m sorry,” Azriel said, his tone softer now but filled with a heaviness that made my chest tighten. “For what happened in the alley.”

My stomach twisted at his words, the memory of his kiss rushing back with vivid clarity. My lips parted, but before I could speak, he continued.

“Kissing you was a mistake,” he said, his voice quieter now, as though the words were hard to say. His hazel eyes searched mine, filled with conflict and something that looked like longing. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

I froze, the words sinking into me like a heavy stone. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, my wings, now un-glamoured, twitching slightly as I stood there, staring at him.

“I let my emotions get the better of me,” Azriel said, his jaw tightening as he looked away. “It wasn’t… right.”

I didn’t respond. The weight of his words left me breathless, and the look in his eyes only deepened the ache in my chest. 

A mistake. 

Kissing me was a mistake. 

A mistake he regretted making. 

Without a word, I turned and walked toward the stairs, my steps deliberate and measured. I was determined I was not going to break down in front of him. I didn’t look back, but I could feel his gaze on me, burning into me like the firelight that flickered around him.

As I ascended the stairs, my thoughts swirled with confusion and frustration, Azriel’s words echoed in my mind. 

When I reached my room and closed the door softly behind me, the silence was deafening. And as I leaned against the door, my hands trembling slightly, I realized I wasn’t sure if I was angrier at him for calling the kiss a mistake—or at myself for how much I had wanted it not to be.

My chest ached as the sound of the latch clicking into place echoed in the silence. The weight of the night pressed down on me, the tension, the confusion, and Azriel’s words swirling in my mind like a storm I couldn’t escape.

The words hit me over and over, sharp and cutting, as though they were etched into my soul. I leaned back against the door, my wings trembling slightly as my knees gave way. Slowly, I slid down to the floor, my arms wrapping tightly around myself as the first tear slipped down my cheek.

I tried to hold it back, tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but the dam broke, and a quiet sob escaped my lips. My hands pressed against my face as my shoulders shook, the pain in my chest overwhelming. I wanted him so badly—wanted his touch, his warmth, his love. But he didn’t want me. He wanted Elain. He chose her.

The thought gutted me. I had seen the way Azriel looked at Elain, the softness in his hazel eyes, the careful way he spoke to her. Even if Elain was distant, even if she hadn’t chosen him, it didn’t matter. I knew Azriel’s heart wasn’t mine to claim. And that knowledge left me feeling hollow.

So why did he kiss me? I thought, the memory of his lips against mine flooding my mind. Why did it feel so real? But then, he’d pulled away, apologized, and called it a mistake. The pain of it felt unbearable, a wound that cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

My cries softened after a while, turning into quiet, trembling breaths as I sat there on the floor, my head resting against the door, the ache in my chest grow stronger.

******

Azriel POV

Azriel stood at the base of the stairs, staring up at the quiet hallway where Y/n had disappeared moments ago. His bottle sat abandoned in the sitting room, the firelight dimming in his absence. His wings shifted slightly, his shadows curling around him as though urging him to follow her.

He didn’t know why he was doing this. He didn’t know why he had let the argument escalate, why he had kissed her, or why he had apologized afterward. The only thing he did know was that it had taken everything in him to pull away from her. Because kissing her, feeling his arousal for him on his fingers, her scent enveloping him… it hadn’t felt like a mistake. It had felt like everything. 

Slowly, he ascended the stairs, his steps light but deliberate. He didn’t stop until he was outside her door, his shadows curling under the crack and pressing against the barrier like they wanted to reach her. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes briefly, trying to steady the storm inside him.

Then he heard it.

The soft sound of her crying.

The noise pierced through him, shattering the fragile control he had been clinging to. He straightened, his hand hovering just above the door as his heart twisted in his chest. He wanted to go in, to pull her into his arms, to tell her he hadn’t meant what he’d said—that she wasn’t a mistake, that she could never be a mistake.

But he didn’t.

His hand fell to his side, his jaw tightening as he took a step back. He knew better. He wasn’t good enough for her. He never would be. She deserved someone who could offer her everything, someone who wasn’t broken, who didn’t carry the shadows of his past like chains around his soul. Someone who wasn’t him.

He closed his eyes again, forcing himself to turn away from the door. As much as it hurt to hear her cry, to know that he had caused her pain, he told himself this was the right thing to do. Pushing her away now was better—better for her, better for them both. He couldn’t be what she needed, no matter how much he wanted to.

Azriel’s wings drooped slightly as he moved down the hall, his steps heavy, his shadows unusually subdued. And as he disappeared into the darkness of his own room, the sound of her quiet sobs echoed in his mind, a reminder of everything he wanted but would never allow himself to have.

Chapter 13

[elrielsgarden]

Elain Archeron Week Recap

Day 4: Home 🪻

“Elain … squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed.”

- A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

Elain is at home in her garden, whether that be in the human realm, or at the townhouse, or the river house in Velaris. for this piece, I requested that termesart include every flower Elain is associated with so far throughout the ACOTAR series: jasmine, roses, begonias, irises, lilies, violets, hyacinths, & lilacs. Elain is holding an armful of all these flowers from her garden, and in my head she’s watching the Inner Circle (aka her family, her home) as she brings them to decorate the house. termesart is so talented, and she brought my vision to life so perfectly!

art by termesart on Instagram

commissioned by bookish.biologist (me!) on Instagram

likes, comments, and shares appreciated!

please do not repost without permission from me!

thank you 🫶

[thegoldensanctuary]

Part VII Louis XIV’s Final Summer Set (N⁰ 1984)

The fate of this set is, like its entry, somewhat perplexing as contemporary sources contradict one another. Memorialists of the time claim that instead of inheriting the set, the Duke of Tresmes, First Gentleman of the Room, received financial compensation [162], while the Garde-Meuble, on the other hand, maintains that the Duke did in fact inherit the set alongside those present in the Antechamber and Cabinet [163]. The latter version is the most plausible, as it explains both the absence of set 1984 from the 1729 general inventory and the decision to create a new summer set for the bedchamber upon Louis XV’s return to Versailles in 1723.

Furthermore, the death inventory of the Duke of Tresmes in 1739 mentions a satin Persian-style crimson background, present on the second floor of his townhouse under the number 135 [164], corresponding to the set described in the death inventory of King Louis XIV, which was meant to be inherited by the Duke.

page from the Duke of Tresmes Death Inventory, Number 135 AN MC ET II 473

7.1 The Tapestry Itself

The brocades used in the creation of set 1984 came from earlier deliveries in 1687 and 1688 by the Parisian fabric supplier Charlier. Indeed, at the end of the 1705 entry, we learn that Lallié used brocades numbered 96, 991, 116, and 128 for the bed, seats, footrest cushions, tablecloth, and fire screen, described as “a satin Persian-style brocade,” also referred to as the small-pattern brocade. Brocades 95 and 98, called the large-pattern brocade, were used for the bed and alcove tapestry. These brocades were described on July 23, 1686, as “pieces of brocade one ell wide, with crimson background with patterns of gold and silver in Persian colors” [165]. The delivery of brocade 98 can be traced to February 4, 1687 [166]. Jules Guiffrey reconstructed a more complete description of the brocade by combining elements mentioned in several sources: “Five pieces of rich brocade, one ell wide, with crimson red satin background; featuring compartments, cornucopias, scrolls, and flowers woven in gold and silver, with contours around the ornaments in violet, green, and blue silk, in the Persian style, made by Mr. Charlier of Paris” [167]. For the 1705 delivery, eight pieces of large brocade were destined for the alcove tapestry alongside seven pieces of column brocade. These column brocades were part of a delivery from November 29, 1688, by Gautier and manufactured in Lyon. They were described as “columns of rich brocade with vine branches and grapes, with a base and capital woven in gold and silver, twisted, with musk, on a crimson satin background” [168] and received the number 124. Designs featuring twisted brocade columns were fashionable at the time; Swedish diplomat Cronström even discussed similar ones in his correspondence with Swedish royal architect Tessin, where they considered possible decor for royal apartments in Sweden. Cronström wrote, “One could also take satins from Turin and have twisted columns and borders or friezes made, cut according to the design of Mr. Berain. All of this would be appropriate, new, and in good taste.” Mr. Berain was indeed the royal ornamentalist for the King of France. The column designs Cronström referenced, which he sketched, are now in the Stockholm National Museum collection.

National Museum, Stockholm, NMH CC 1382 recto

This layout, however, differs from the one described in the King’s bedchamber at King Louis XIV’s death, where set 1984 is mentioned with an alcove tapestry of only five pieces of large brocade alongside six pieces of column brocade [169]. Moreover, the dimensions of the alcove tapestry as described in 1705 far exceed the size of the bedchamber’s western wall, given that each large piece of brocade was one French ell wide (1.18m) and the brocade column half that width, totaling 13.6 meters (44.52 ft). This discrepancy suggests set 1984 was used in the Versailles King’s bedchamber almost incidentally rather than as a planned choice. This discrepancy in the alcove layout of 1715 featured only five pieces of the large brocade, each one ell wide, and six pieces of column brocade, each half an ell wide, totaling eight French ells or 9.44 meters (31 ft), which is much closer to the actual dimension of the King’s alcove.

7.2 The Bed

The main element of set 1984 was its state bed, with its impressive dimensions. Its components were:

• No Headboard: None of the descriptions indicate the presence of a headboard.

• The Headcloth: Made of two pieces of the large brocade according to the 1705 Garde-Meuble diary [170] and four according to the 1715 death inventory [171].

• The Valences: Both the 1705 and 1715 entries spare details on the main fabric used, only noting crimson satin lining. It could be inferred that they were crimson to match the background of the brocade. Large gold fringes formed festoons at the bottom [172], and this style of valence, different from the previously used campanes, was increasingly popular at the time. Similar ones appear in a painting by Louis Silvestre depicting Louis XIV Receiving the Prince Elector of Saxony in his Fontainebleau bedchamber near the end of his life.

: Louis XIV reçoit à Fontainebleau le prince-électeur de Saxe, 27 septembre 1714, Louis de Silvestre and Hyacinthe Rigaud, oil on canvas, 1715, 120 x 155 cm, Château de Versailles, MV 4344

• The Curtains: Two bonnes grâces, four curtains, and two cantonières are mentioned, with gold fringes at the edges and bottom, lined with the same fabric. The brocade used is not specified, but we can infer that it was the smaller pattern given that the headcloth, mentioned afterward, is said to have been of “the larger pattern brocade,” implying the curtains were not.

• The Quilt: See above.

• The Case Curtain: Made of crimson gros de Tours taffeta, with gold fringes at the bottom and edges, hanging from a golden rod.

• The Columns: The two front columns were placed in a sheath of large-pattern brocade.

• The Vases/Finials: Four in total (one at each corner), filled with feathers and covered in the large-pattern brocade.

7.3 The Armchairs and Stools

Two armchairs were included in the 1705 delivery [173] and three in 1715 [174]. We can assume that an additional armchair was added once the set was transferred to the bedchamber, possibly used with the table. They were garnished with gold fringes at the bottom, and their wood was surprisingly painted red with gold floral decorations. The brocade used was the small pattern, specifically brocades 96, 99, 116, and 128 as described on July 23, 1686: “Two pieces of brocade, two feet wide, with crimson background and elevated patterns in gold and silver with Persian colors” [175]. In 1886, Jules Guiffrey attempted to enhance that vague description by referencing entries from the brocade chapter of the 1729 general inventory and brocade discharges from set 1984, creating this more precise description of the small pattern brocade of number 96: “Two pieces of brocade, two feet wide, with crimson satin background, cornucopias, rinceaux, and flowers of elevated gold and silver, with outlines in green and purple silk, in the Persian style, from the Charlier manufacture in Paris” [176]. The specifics of the colors are consistent with brocade discharges noted at the end of the entry for set 1984 [177].

The twelve folding stools were similar in terms of brocade and style to the armchairs, with gold fringes and woods painted in red with some gilded ornaments.

6.4 The Fire Screen

The fire screen was similar to the seats, with the small-pattern brocade, gold braids around the edges, and wood painted to match the fabric. A braid with a lead pear covered with gold bouquets is also mentioned [178].

7.5 The Table and Tablecloth

The set came with a tablecloth made of the smaller brocade, with fringes on the sides and at the bottom, lined with taffeta, along with a red leather table rug with gold fringes. The table mentioned in the 1715 death inventory under these tablecloths was likely the fir table previously listed in the 1708 inventory and used with set 1379 (see Part 6.6) [179].

7.6 The Portières Tapestries

At the time of the 1705 delivery, no portières were included, and they only appear in the 1715 death inventory [180]. They were made from five pieces of brocade each and described as “assorted to the one of the bed.” Each of the four doors was equipped with one, embellished with gold fringes on their sides, and lined with crimson taffeta.

6.7 The Portieres Tapestries

At the time of the 1705 delivery, no portieres were included; they are only mentioned in the 1715 death inventory [160]. Made from five pieces of brocade each and “assorted to the one on the bed,” each of the four doors was equipped with one. They were embellished with gold fringes on their sides and lined with crimson taffeta.

[135] AN O1/3308 f⁰ 9 r⁰

[136] AN O1/3298 folder 3, item 4, f⁰ 1

[137] Verlet 1961 and Castelluccio 2016 mention set 1379 while omitting set 1984, while Meyer 1980 and Richard 2018 mention set 1984 while omitting set 1379.

[138] Hans 2022 confuses sets 1379 and 1984 and provides a description combining elements from both sets.

[139] AN O1/3308 f⁰ 9 r⁰

[140] Ibid f⁰ 134

[141] AN O1/3298 folder 3, item 4, f⁰ 2 v⁰

[142] The folio 135 of the 1705 Garde-Meuble diary (AN O1/3308) is missing.

[143] Saint-Simon, tome XXIII, p. 213; Dangeau Journal, éd. E. Soulié, Paris, Firmin Didot, 1854-1860, tome XVII, p. 177

[144] AN O1/3298 folder 3, item 2

[145] AN MC/ET/II 473

[146] AN O1/3306 f⁰ 31 v⁰

[147] Ibid f⁰ 59 v⁰

[148] Guiffrey, Jules. Inventaire général du mobilier de la couronne sous Louis XIV (1663-1715), deuxième partie. Paris: Au siège de la société, 1886, p. 198

[149] Ibid f⁰ 111 r⁰

[150] AN O1/3298

[151] AN O1/3308 f⁰ 7 v⁰

[152] AN O1/3298

[153] AN O1/3308 f⁰ 7 v⁰

[154] AN O1/3308 f⁰ 7 v⁰

[155] AN O1/3298

[156] AN O1/3306 f⁰ 31 v⁰

[157] Guiffrey, Inventaire général du mobilier de la couronne sous Louis XIV, 1886 edition, vol. 2, p. 198

[158] AN O1/3308 f⁰ 8 r⁰

[159] Ibid

[160] Ibid

[damachills2]

DAMAC Violet 4 Floor Plan

If you are looking to buy a spacious, high-end townhouse in Dubai, then it is time you checked into DAMAC Violet 4 at DAMAC Hills 2. It is impressively crafted with a beautifully designed 4 bedroom townhouse with a floor size ranging from 2,352 to 2,415 square feet. Let's look into the floor plan and know what could be expected of these luxurious homes.

Open-Plan Living Area

Spacious and comfortable, the thoughtfulness in designing the floorplan is a distinguishing characteristic of DAMAC Violet 4. The ground floor has an open-plan arrangement designed to transition smoothly from kitchen to dining and living for those who want to entertain guests or spend quality time with the family. The large windows further give a feeling of openness with the natural light let in.

Designed to be the heart of the home, the living area is ideal for entertaining, whether it's a small dinner party or family movie night. Sleek, contemporary finishes in neutral tones create an invitingly stylish space.

Large Private Bedrooms

Upstairs, the four bedrooms form the ideal retreat for quiet times. The bedrooms are amply proportioned with expansive closet spaces and fitted wardrobes. The master suite is truly spacious, really a place of peace that offers a private en-suite bathroom.

The bedrooms are designed with a focus on privacy, placed as such to provide quiet and restful quarters. Whether it's relaxing at the end of a long day or retiring for the night, these rooms will be the haven.

Contemporary Kitchens and Dining Rooms

Other impressive features of the DAMAC Violet 4 floor plan include the kitchen, fitted with high-end finishes and appliances. Stylish and functional, this kitchen will make food preparation a breeze, whether you are an avid cook or a takeout lover. The dining area adjoins the kitchen, allowing for smooth transitions from cooking to dining, whether for family meals or entertaining.

Maid's Room and Utility Spaces

In addition to the four bedrooms, this floorplan includes a maid's room. This additional space is ideal for someone looking for extra storage space or wanting flexible living. This will keep the rest of the living space clear of clutter, with the household help in a separate space.

Key Amenities in DAMAC Violet 4

From gourmet cuisine to indulgent recreation and from work to rejuvenating leisure, DAMAC Violet 4 has much more to make your life more convenient and enjoyable. Master amenities include:

Swimming Pool

Fitness Center

Clubhouse

Kids Play Area

Retail Outlets

Lush Gardens & Parks

BBQ Area

Sport Facilities

Walkways

The facilities complement the luxurious lifestyle that you will be living in, Violet 4. One would find everything from relaxing at the pool to working out in the fitness center and walking serenely through the lush gardens.

Final Thoughts

In a nutshell, the floor plan of the DAMAC Violet 4 combines luxury and practicality perfectly. With large living areas, private bedrooms, and a myriad of premium amenities, this is the ideal choice for families seeking comfort with style. It's time to invest in your dream home at DAMAC Violet 4!

[realestateblogs98]

Violet 4 at Damac Hills 2, set within Dubai's vibrant community, offers a unique lifestyle where luxury seamlessly merges with nature. These four-bedroom townhouses are designed to create lasting memories, providing abundant opportunities for relaxation, adventure, and family fun. Inspired by the elegance of the violet flower, each home serves as a canvas for comfort and sophistication, delivering a vibrant living experience.

The interiors of Violet 4 in Dubai the townhouses reflect modern elegance, featuring open-plan layouts that maximize both space and natural light. Each home includes a private garden oasis, perfect for hosting family gatherings or enjoying peaceful moments. The sleek design, enhanced by high-quality finishes and contemporary amenities, creates a warm, inviting atmosphere tailored to the evolving needs of families.

The architectural design of Violet 4 seamlessly integrates with its natural surroundings, drawing inspiration from the violet flower’s vibrant hues. Residents can enjoy beautifully landscaped gardens and rooftop spaces, ideal for relaxation or entertaining guests. This community celebrates nature’s beauty while offering a luxurious lifestyle.

Damac Violet 4 provides easy access to key destinations across Dubai. Connected by four major highways, residents can reach DAMAC Hills in just 15 minutes and enjoy quick travel to popular attractions such as Dubai Outlet Mall and Global Village within 25 minutes. Al Maktoum International Airport is only 30 minutes away, while Dubai International Airport is reachable in 35 minutes, ensuring convenient commutes.

[diya1803]

Violet 4 by Damac is a luxurious residential community in the heart of Damac Hills 2, offering elegant four-bedroom townhouses inspired by the vivid tones of the violet flower. It’s a place where every day is filled with moments to cherish. Imagine starting your morning with an invigorating yoga session, soaking in the sun’s warmth, and peacefully floating along a lazy river—all before lunch. Meanwhile, your children can dive into their imagination, splash in the water, and embark on endless adventures in a community that feels like home from the start. The design of Violet 4 at Damac Hills 2, Dubai seamlessly combines sophistication and functionality. The contemporary architecture blends harmoniously with nature’s colors, providing the perfect setting for family memories. Enjoy the tranquility of your private garden, and unwind in your rooftop retreat—a perfect balance of luxury and comfort, tailored to your lifestyle. Damac Hills 2 offers excitement and relaxation in equal measure. Start your day with a peaceful fishing trip or head to the petting farm for some fun with the family. In the evening, take a leisurely stroll through the dog park or enjoy a movie under the stars at the floating cinema. For those who love to stay active, Sports Town features a wide range of facilities, from running tracks and tennis courts to cricket pitches—perfect for competitive spirits or relaxed afternoons. For a more thrilling adventure, grab some friends for an exhilarating paintball match, blending fun with a test of teamwork and agility. Mornings can also begin with yoga in the serene Zen Garden or nurturing your green thumb in the Green Zone. Spend meaningful time with your children in the hedge maze or on the jungle gym. Finish the day with a cozy barbecue surrounded by loved ones, a blend of relaxation and joy. This vibrant community merges luxury with the beauty of nature, offering everything you need to live a complete and fulfilling life.

[axpremiumproperties]

Brace Yourself for Violet 4 by DAMAC! 🌟

We're excited to announce the arrival of Violet 4, following the incredible success of DAMAC Violet 1, 2, and 3! Discover the next chapter in Dubai's most transacted community, DAMAC Hills 2! ✨

🏡 4 Bedroom Townhouses 💰 Starting from AED 1.96M 💸 Easy Payment Plan Available 🌍 World-Class Amenities Await!

Experience unparalleled luxury living in a tranquil setting. Don’t miss your chance to invest in your dream residence!

[realesatatedubai]

DAMAC Violet 4 at DAMAC Hills 2, Dubai -Inchbrick Realty.

DAMAC Violet 4 at DAMAC Hills 2, Dubai offers luxury 4-bed townhouses with modern amenities, scenic views, and access to world-class facilities, perfect for a serene lifestyle - Inchbrick Realty

[shaankaz]

Damac Hills 2 Townhouses - Park Greens | Natura | Violet Villas at Dubai

VIOLET TOWNHOUSES AT DAMAC HILLS 2 DUBAI

VIOLET at Dubai Hills 2 is a newly launched off-plan property offering 4 Bedroom Townhouses for sale, developed by Damac Properties Dubai. The Project is located at the prime location address of Damac Hills 2 offering 4 Bedroom Town-villas of 2352 to 2415 sq.ft., Sizes of plot/lot area ranges between 1215 to 2021 sq.ft. After Successful Launch of Natura and Park Greens at Damac Hills 2 this is an amazing investment opportunity for investors, offering attractive ROI and Rental Returns.  Each floor plan layout comes with spacious bedrooms, private lawns, and a living room. The sale price of 4 BR townhouses starts at AED 1.193 Million, as of Q2-2024. Investors can buy a unit in DH2 with a 10% booking amount, as Damac offers attractive 60/40 Payment Plans.

https://sales-office-dubai.com/damac-hills-2-violet-townhouses-dubai/

[dubai-properties-2024]

Luxury life in Violet Phase 2

Violet Phase 2 by Damac Properties offers a unique opportunity to own a luxurious 4-bedroom townhouse within Dubai's prestigious Damac Hills 2 community. With its modern design, private gardens, and access to top-notch amenities, Violet Phase 2 caters to families seeking a perfect blend of luxury and convenience.

[mieletthe]

love is stored in the component jars

What can I say, 4-Sided Dive Essek Lore got to me too. Fellas, is it gay to give your Kryn colleague a matching set of storage containers?

Read on AO3.

—

Caleb waits until Essek has crossed the threshold, until he is safely inside with the door shut and latched behind him, to take Essek’s hands in his. “Welcome back,” he murmurs.

Their embrace is tentative, an unspoken question of Are we doing this? Do you still want this? The heartbeat that quickens in Essek’s chest answers a resounding Yes, but it is a conversation that they have never found in themselves to have aloud.

It’s complicated, anyways.

Caleb takes his cloak and asks how he’s been. What is there to say? He’s been in five different cities in as many weeks, and managed to keep pursuing agents off his trail in all but one. But Essek is exhausted by and ashamed to think of his scrappy, meager, lonely life on the run. He wants to forget about it for the little time he has in this sanctuary.

“You’ve certainly made yourself at home here,” he says to change the subject.

He’d seen the townhouse the day Caleb bought it. It had been bare and dim and dusty, and they’d had to sit on the floor with a broken crate for a table as they ate small hand pies from a bakery down the road. Later, before he’d left Rexxentrum for yet another nameless town, they had made love on top of Caleb’s coat, right in the middle of the salon they stand in now.

He’d missed the housewarming party.

The townhouse is no longer bare. That broken crate is now a placeholder for the coffee table, but half-filled bookshelves flank the fireplace, a traditional Zemnian quilt is folded over the back of the plush new sofa, and a series of framed paintings by Jester lean against the walls just waiting to be hung.

“It’s a work in progress,” Caleb says. “But let me show you the laboratory.”

He takes Essek’s hand and leads him up two flights of stairs to a spacious room that for a moment steals Essek’s breath away. It’s no wonder Caleb is still using a crate for a coffee table; his attention has clearly been focused here.

A pair of impressive worktables sit on either side of an open space that holds the outlines of a large arcane circle. Glass-front cabinets containing books and artifacts line the walls, and behind the arcane circle are open shelves filled end to end with dozens of amber glass component jars. The arcane light emanating from several wall sconces wraps the room in a warm glow that plays enchantingly off the vitreous surfaces.

“I'd never had a real laboratory of my own before.” Essek can hear the pride in Caleb’s voice.

“You have one in your tower, don't you?”

Caleb shakes his head. “The tower is impermanent; it’s not the same. There was one in the Xhorhaus as well, but we were never there long enough for me to settle in.”

As Essek steps into the room, he runs a hand along the rich violet wood of the worktable. Vermaloc. Just like the one in his own laboratory. He can’t imagine how Caleb managed to acquire a piece like this in the Empire, let alone two.

“You’ve made a beautiful space.”

“I took inspiration from some particularly impressive wizards’ towers that I’ve seen.”

Even as he smiles, Essek’s heart twinges. He misses his towers, misses having a workspace like this. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever have something like this again.

He walks over to the wall of component jars. It’s laid out very much like his own: the amber jars all precisely and evenly spaced on the shelves, a shallow counter below holding a series of instruments, bowls, and scoops to measure in place.

“I believe I recognize some of your inspiration.”

Caleb comes up behind him and wraps his arms around Essek’s waist. Essek isn’t floating—the only reason Caleb can rest his chin on his head like that—but his belly swoops as if he has taken flight.

“The jars were a lucky find. Veth tipped me off to an apothecary that was going out of business, and they sold me their entire stock for a very reasonable price.”

They’re exquisite. Each jar is nearly identical to the next, the deep caramel glass impeccably crafted. Essek picks one up to examine the elegant pedestal base and delicate ornamentation circling the lid. He runs a finger along the intricate details of the finial and lifts the knob to the soft clink of glass and wafting smell of incense. Caleb was indeed fortunate to procure such a collection, and Essek tells him as such.

“I'm glad you like them.” Caleb nods towards a set of empty jars at the end of the shelf. “Those ones are for you.”

“Caleb…” Essek begins, his heart sinking. He wishes so badly to have them, to be able to recreate in any small way the magnificent laboratory he once treasured. “That is very generous of you, but I cannot accept. There is no way to carry such things with me.”

“Then keep them here,” Caleb replies in barely more than a whisper. His breath is warm on Essek’s ear. “Keep them, and yourself, safely here with me.”

It takes a moment for the words to register, and when they do Essek turns around in Caleb’s arms. Caleb looks down at him with a soft, pleading gaze.

“Caleb, I…”

“Stay with me.”

His heart beats out Yes. Yes. Yes. but his tongue is more cautious. “I will consider it.”

That answer seems to be enough for Caleb, whose mouth blooms into a smile just before it descends to meet Essek’s.

—

Essek stares at the jars, trying to puzzle out their organization.

“What order do you keep your components in? It’s neither grouped by element nor category, nor is it alphabetical—unless you’re using Zemnian, perhaps?”

“Ah, no particular order. It’s easy enough to remember where everything is, so I just put them back in the closest empty space.”

Essek gawks at Caleb in bewilderment for a moment, then says, “No. Absolutely not.”

He begins to take the jars from the shelves and shuffle them around the countertop.

“What are you doing?” Caleb asks with a crooked smile.

“We are going to arrange these in a structured manner. Now go fetch me a pen and ink to make labels.”

Caleb kisses the top of his head as he passes.

“Certainly. If you’re staying, then it stands to reason that you should have a say in our laboratory too.”

[daphnesims]

Saint Greer Islands

Azalea Island Foxglove Bay: 25 x 30 1 Banyan’s End: 25 x 40 2 Banyan’s End: 30 x 40 Lupin Beach: 40 x 40

Snapdragon Run: 25 x 25 Oak Point: 25 x 25

Buttercup Orchard:  40 x 30

Elm Place: 33 x 30

1 Hazel Road: 15 x 25 2 Hazel Road: 20 x 25

1 Iris Avenue: 15x20 2 Iris Avenue: 20x20 3 Iris Avenue: 30x20 4 Iris Avenue: 35x20

1 Jasmine Court: 20x30 2 Jasmine Court: 30x30 3 Jasmine Court: 20 x 25 4 Jasmine Court: 30 x 25

1 Azalea Park: 50 x 43 2 Azalea Park: 30 x 43

1 Lilac Avenue: 30x20 2 Lilac Avenue: 30x30 3 Lilac Avenue: 30x30 4 Lilac Avenue: 30x20

1 Cedar Terrace: 30x30 2 Cedar Terrace: 25x30

1 Honeysuckle Row: 20x25 2 Honeysuckle Row: 25x25 3 Honeysuckle Row: 20x25

1 Plum Drive:  2 Plum Drive: 25x20 3 Plum Drive: 25x30 

1 Snowdrop Passage: Oliphant Cafe and Studio By @littlemisstery (Pic Here)  Bluedrop House ? By @asexualsims 2 Snowdrop Passage: Green Drop House By @asexualsims 3 Snowdrop Passage:  Blue Redrop House By @asexualsims

1 Peony Street: The Oak House By @littlemisstery (Pic Here)  Water Home? By @asexualsims     2 Peony Street: Misthaven Home By @thewinterflakesim 3 Peony Street: Slerras House By @my-special-sim 4 Peony Street: Little Flower Shop By @littlemisstery 6 Peony Street:  Jaspers House By @my-special-sim

1 Magnolia Parade: Minty HouseBy @littlemisstery (Pic Here)  California Rustic By @asexualsims 2 Magnolia Parade: Peachy Delight By @littlemisstery (Pic Here) Shingle Style By @asexualsims 3 Magnolia Parade: Sunkissed Hideout By @littlemisstery (Pic Here) Beach House By @asexualsims

IIex Lighthouse: Sun Sea Lighthouse By @my-special-sim IIex Bay: Sun Sea Bay By @my-special-sim

IIex Lighthouse: Saint Greer Nautical Museum By @littlemisstery (Pic Here) IIex Bay: Forgotten Shore By @littlemisstery (Pic Here)

Chestnut Bay: The Old Fishing Boat ?By @littlemisstery (Pic Here) —

Holiday Colonial  - 2 Lilac Avenue By @asexualsims

Saint Greer Central Park (Festival Grounds)? by @asexualsims

——-

Violet Island 2 The Wharf: The Waterfront By @amphoraesims Art Studio By @asexualsims 1 Rose Garden: Community College/University By @gruesim

1 Sunflower Garden: Lirael’s Trailer By @simplyimaginarypeople (Image Here) 2 Sunflower Garden: Misty’s Trailer By @laurenisasimmer 3 Sunflower Garden: Blue Dutch By @littlemisstery (Image Here) Purple Caravan By @rubyred-sims & @simplyimaginarypeople (NO Image) 4 Sunflower Garden: Starter Dutch By @littlemisstery (Image Here) 5 Sunflower Garden: 6 Sunflower Garden: Community Garden By @littlemisstery (Image Here)

1 Willow Stroll: Grey Willow Maisons by @littlefrenchsims 2 Willow Stroll: Willow Apartments By @littlemisstery (Pic Here) 3 Willow Stroll: Three Townhouses By @littlemisstery (Pic Here)

Bluebell Park ( To be used has a lot for different things): Little Hill Pumpkin Patch By @pixelatedmuffis Harrison Christmas Tree Farm By @pottery-sims Falling Leaves Wedding Venue By @thesimperiuscurse Bluebell Park By @littlemisstery  (Image Here & deco ferris wheel)

Willow Park: Paravel Park By @amphoraesims Willows Church By @asexualsims Willow Park (Big Park) By @littlemisstery (Pic Here)

1 Clover Creek:  Luka & Zoe’s House By @simplyimaginarypeople (Image Here) 2 Clover Creek: Mortinez Beach House By @jenba ? 3 Clover Creek: Oak Nook By @my-special-sim 4 Clover Creek: Rustic Beach House By @asexualsims

1 Sweetgum Mews: Oleander Cottage By @oleander-sims 2 Sweetgum Mews: The Plum  By @littlemisstery 3 Sweetgum Mews: Saida and Karsen’s House By @simplyimaginarypeople 4 Sweetgum Mews: Reese Cottage  By @simplyimaginarypeople

1 Lavender Promenade: Bridal Boutique (Salon) By @thesimperiuscurse 2 Lavender Promenade: Big Tree Park By @littlemisstery  (Image Here) 3 Lavender Promenade: Grey Stone Home By @littlemisstery (Image Here) 4 Lavender Promenade: Yellow Promenade By @simplyimaginarypeople (NO Image)

1 Violet Square: Supermarket (Grocery RH) By @littlemisstery (Image Here) 2 Violet Square: Galleria Square  By @littlemisstery (NO Image) 3 Violet Square: Caffè Murano (use this mod to run as cafe) By @littlemisstery 4 Violet Square: Blanche’s Cafe & Bakery By @asexualsims 5 Violet Square:  Moonlight Cine By @littlemisstery 6 Violet Square: Midori Asian Cuisine By @littlemisstery (Image Here) 7 Violet Square: Sweetlove Cafe and Bakery By @littlemisstery

1 Tulip Place: Affordable Family HouseBy @littlemisstery (Pic Here) Ascension Park By @amphoraesims Minty House by @rubyred-sims 2 Tulip Place: Holiday Garden & Gift Shop By @jenba 3 Tulip Place: Saint Tulip By @s3mpcdesings

Poppy Field: Victorian CharmBy @littlemisstery (Pic Here) Lavender Fields By @amphoraesims Sunnyside By @my-special-sim

1 Juniper Cove: Modern House By @littlemisstery 2 Juniper Cove:  Water Lily By @littlemisstery  (Image Here) 3 Juniper Cove:

—-

Violet Square: Row Shops - ? by @asexualsims

Violet Square: Dante’s Music Store? - by @asexualsims

Violet Square:  Rabbit Holes Lots? - by @asexualsims

Community Gardens - ? by @asexualsims

White Lake Meadows  - ? by @asexualsims

—–

Lily Island 1 Phlox Bay: Bay Shack By @littlemisstery 2 Phlox Bay: Old Factory (Science rabbithole) By @littlemisstery  (Image Here)

Dandelion’s end: The Refuge By @littlemisstery  (Image Here) Lion’s End By @amphoraesims

1 Foxtrail Trail: Hidden Cottage By @my-special-sim 2 Foxtrail Trail: A-Frame Cotage? By @littlemisstery (Image Here) 3 Foxtrail Trail: Lover’s Nest  By @littlemisstery  (Image Here)

1 Lily Grove: 2 Lily Grove: Wooden Le Chalet By @littlefrenchsims Family Manor? By @littlemisstery 3 Lily Grove: The Lake House  By @simplyimaginarypeople 4 Lily Grove: Leisure Logs By @asexualsims Fallen Leaves Memorial By @amphoraesims

[imagine-loki]

Good While It Lasted

TITLE: Good while it lasted  CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 4 AUTHOR: ValarieRavenhearst2 ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine seeing Loki for the first time after a very messy break up. RATING: R NOTES/WARNINGS: NSFW (very strong language) 

Violet POV

When I emerged from the fridge, Evie and Katie were talking in the staff room looking uncomfortably tense, I took my earphones out to hear them but they stopped suddenly upon my approach and Evie scampered away with a forced smile. I asked Katie if everything was alright and she replied with Peachy which always meant something was wrong. But I was too exhausted to pry, so I didn’t. I made the drive, silently, back to my townhouse which seems so extravagant on the outside, yet so lonely on the inside. All the décor in the world doesn’t seem to make any difference. After a shower I collapse on the lounge and flick through trashy TV until I leave it on some restoration show while I flick through all my notifications on my phone. The Plaza is having an event on the weekend which briefly peeks my interest so I mark it as a maybe; I may come back to it later. Perhaps it would be nice to go out finally. Maybe I could take all the girls out from work for dinner, then we could go to the Plaza’s party. They do always have nice events. It would be nice to get to know the two new girls – I mean, I used to always take the girls out monthly to boost morale but I realise I haven’t done that in a very long time. I feel like I’ve just been surviving … it’s time to start living again.

    On Friday night I had arranged to close an hour early so that everyone working had plenty of time to get ready before meeting at seven for dinner. Everyone seemed to carry a bubble of delight with them at dinner and it began to infect me quickly – relief flooded through me as I started to feel like myself again.    Katie seemed to notice the change and would look at me with lovestruck eyes when I spoke before hugging me for long periods of time. Despite the rocky road here, I am grateful for her love, nonetheless. I know her attitude has been all out of love, even if I wasn’t ready for it.   Moving on to the Plaza it was a stunning surprise to find that there event was live music and Dorothy was performing. Katie and I shrieked in surprise when she started playing and we barely sat at the table before we were up dancing in front of the stage. Evie brings us all over a round of shots and I quickly begin to drown out all my woes – she seems so timid at work I never picked her to be a rowdy partier. I finally leave the front of the stage to sit with the girls after the second band takes the stage and it doesn’t take long for my face to start aching with laughter – I think my face forgot how to smile; the muscles clearly not getting worked like they used to.   Evie and I go to get the next round of drinks and as I crash into one side of the bar she taps my shoulder to indicate she’s going to the bathroom. I order another round of shots for the table and the bartender promises to bring them over personally. He’s cute I have to admit, I would have thought the act of flirting would have eluded me but it falls effortlessly off my tongue. As the bartender makes his own shot, which he names violet, he slides it in front of me and I lock eyes with a familiar face on the other side of the bar – the same time they notice me. Darcy’s eyes go wide and her mouth drops agape and I can’t help but smile and wave politely in her direction. I always did like Darcy. The bartender, Dean, says he’ll bring everything over in a minute and I bring my attention back to him as Evie grabs my waist from behind. “I’ll see you in a minute then.” I bite my lip as I smile, Evie pulling back off the bar and I turn into her embrace as Darcy appears straight ahead of me. “Hey!” I beam, leaving myself open for an embrace but to my surprise it doesn’t come.   “Hey? Don’t ‘hey me’.” Darcy looks me up and down like I just rear-ended her. “I’ve got some things I need to get off my chest.” My mouth drops open as I await for the punch line of this joke but it seems I’ll be awaiting for eternity. “It took a really long time for Loki to get over you.” My eyebrows fly to my hairline as a scoff leaps out of my throat. “Like a really long time.” Is she fucking serious. “You broke his heart and you know what, he’s too good for you anyway.” I can feel my head reeling from a sudden splash of vertigo as so much unfolds without me moving. Evie begins yelling in my defence but I can’t comprehend what she’s saying as my ears ring with a white noise. This can’t be fucking real. There is an instant blur beyond us as Jane appears rushed and panic stricken. She grabs Darcy but that just spurs her on. They begin yelling at each other as Katie appears between us and the ringing in my ear comes to an obnoxious stop as the shock settles in. “No! She deserves to be told off! Comin’ round here after the trouble she caused, flirtin’ like some pretentious bimbo right in front of him!” Darcy pulls out of Jane’s grip as she scrambles to keep her quiet. Katie erupts like Pompei, calling her the lowest name she can think of … but I quickly decide to defend myself with on a surge of rage. My Intrepidness rising from it’s resting place.   “I beg your pardon?” I lurch forward, pushing past my two defenders and towering over Darcy. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jane’s eyes widen to a shocked degree as my retaliation startles her. “Pretentious bimbo? How fucking dare you! You have absolutely no fucking clue about what you’re talking about. So keep your little trash mouth fucking shut or I’ll shut it for you!” I threaten with a such a degree of venom, I almost don’t recognise myself but my rage assures my stance.   Stunned and enraged, Darcy flicks her eyes around to land on a drink sitting on the bar and immediately her hand flies out to grab it. Game on bitch. “Oh I fucking dare you.” She goes to throw it at me but I’m close enough that I just lunge at her and grab both her arms and thrust her against the bar. Then all hell truly breaks loose. The glass falls back on the bar and shatters, she begins to kick me off, Jane grabs my shoulders, Katie grabs Jane by the hair, Evie begins shouting profanities, the bartenders begin screaming and scrambling and then Thor appears to separate Jane and Katie, then Loki appears and hooks one arm round my waist to hoist me across his body like I weigh nothing. Darcy lunges after me but Loki puts his other arm out to keep her at bay while still maintaining his grip on me.   “What are you doing?” He roars at Darcy but his authority doesn’t faze her.   “She pushed me!” She accuses and I begin yelling in defence and thrashing to be free of his restraint. “When you see bullshit you call it out!”   “Fuck off you insult fucking bitch.” I roar as Katie appears in front of me and grabs Loki.   “Let her fucking go!” Our chaos infects everyone standing near and suddenly everyone wants to fight. Bouncers come and naturally want to go for the ones who appear to be the biggest threat; so they go for Thor and Loki. Loki yanks himself back and drags me with him, shielding me from Darcy but also from anyone trying to pull me out of his grip.   “Let me go!” I want to sound outraged but the suddenness of how easily he lifts me with one arm causes me to gasp. “Loki!” I exclaim but he doesn’t cease his pace till we’re out the door. “Loki stop!” The shock of his presence settles in below my drunken rage, allowing me to maintain the mental strength to face him – rather than fall down an anxiety ridden trip – to which I had become accustomed to. He releases me somewhat, against the wall and away form the entrance, but he boxes me in so that I can’t escape him.   “Are you alright?” He is seething; I can see the rage dancing behind his eyes, but there is something so fearful there as well as he looks me up and down – hands hovering around my waist. “Are you hurt?” He’s trying to be gentle but the urgency in his voice is more superior.   “I’m fine.” I press my hands firm against his chest to push him away from me. “No thanks to you!” I hiss. “What the fuck was that, huh?” We are drawing a large crowd of concern but I’m so angry I just don’t care. “It’s nice to see you confide in someone, at least.” His eyes go wide, unprepared for my assault.   “I’ve never told her anything –”   “So she just pulled all of that bullshit out of thin air then?” I push myself off the wall so that it is I who invades his space. “I broke your heart, huh? That’s real fucking interesting Loki, ‘cause I don’t remember you sheading a fucking tear!” I push him again much more fiercely and tears spring to my eyes involuntary as he fights to try and soften his approach. When I try to hit him again he grabs both of my wrists and I immediately thrash to be free and he pushes me back against the wall.   “Stop it! Please…” He pleads as bystanders yell in my defence and rush over to pull him off. “Violet, please stop and listen to me.” Despite his strength his tone softens completely and his eyes look so sad … the feeling that overcomes me next is so disorientating as I stare back up into those distressed emerald eyes that it causes my intrepidness to retreat down into the depths of my despair.   A man barges into Loki’s side, both of us too lost in each other’s eyes to notice him bounding over. He does little to actually move Loki far but the jolt rips us apart violently and I stumble against the wall as another man catches me. I look up to see that it is Dean the barman with his arms around me; jerking me backwards and not allowing me to extend back upright correctly. The man who is battling Loki barges him again but Loki remains as firm as a statue before throwing the man to the ground; he barely moves yet the man hits the ground so violently that he can’t do anything but moan and roll over in pity. Loki’s eyes lock back onto me and he instantly begins stalking towards me … well, Dean actually. His glare turning rather violent as Dean tries to shove me behind him.   “Listen buddy you need to back off now.” Oh how foolish.   “Stop it.” I groan to both of them as I try to back away from my misled protector and gain my own footing again. All the shots I’ve had aren’t helping with these heels now.   “Loki stop!” Thor’s voice booms from behind me and suddenly I’m pulled into his embrace. Oh I have had enough of being fucking man-handled. “I have her, stop.” However that doesn’t stop him from grabbing Dean by the collar and thrusting him into the wall.   “Loki!” I shriek, elbowing my way out of Thor’s grip. I grab Loki by the bicep and force myself between them; pushing Loki back further. “That’s enough.” I seethe but my emotions are too heightened now, causing the anger to leave my voice as tears well in my eyes. Just when I thought my head was truly about to explode, the rest of our parties are escorted out and Katie comes out screaming – the bouncers in tow too. Thor chuckles arrogantly and stops the bouncers from getting to me but he misses Katie. She lunges for Loki but I cry out for them both to stop; putting myself between them.   “I swear if you’ve hurt her –”   “You’ll what?” Loki arcs up and I just want the ground to swallow me whole. Then the blue and red flashing lights arrive. I groan in a tear-streaked panic and push myself backwards with all my failing might into Loki. I flip in his arms and they surround me automatically.   “Take me home.” I demand in distress; seeing no possible way out of this clusterfuck. He instantly tightens his grip and whisks me down into the alley before Katie can make chase – then in a flash of green we disappear.

[abybweisse]

These assignments and other battles are like the needles...

...in Mother3. Lucas has to battle against his dead, reanimated older mirror twin brother (Claus/Masked Man/Pigmask Army Commander) to pull up the needles that are literally keeping the Dark Dragon asleep. Think of Lau’s acupuncture needles but WAY bigger. And they look more like swords.

Instead of removing 7 needles to wake the Dark Dragon (the Black Butler has already been summoned, after all), the twins have to battle over supporters and resources. And the battle started before Yorkshire. Regardless of what real Ciel says here:

What should we consider their rounds?

Campania? Real Ciel was there but not a participant. This apparently had more to do with the eccentric people who wanted to test out bizarre dolls as weapons. Neither side lost major players. Stoker was a pawn, but I don’t think Undertaker really needed him after that. So, I’ll say no; it’s not a real battle between the twins. This is, however, when our earl gets the Franklin Badge chain of mourning lockets from the grave keeper, Nippolyte Undertaker.

Weston? Real Ciel was there for a while, but he wasn’t a player. The only people who died were the ones killed by the P4 before even Undertaker became involved. This was an opportunity for Undertaker to make more advanced bizarre dolls. We could say it’s a slight win for our earl, since he gained Violet, Edward, Harcourt, and others as allies. But again, real Ciel isn’t directly involved. So, I don’t think it counts as a round in their battle.

Sphere Music Hall? Real Ciel is the whole reason this places exists. He gains Lizzie’s support. Nina works for both sides, but we haven’t heard from her since. The P4 become the S4 for real Ciel, but they are not loyal to the cult for long (as far as we know). Our earl wins by exposing the deaths there and getting the place shut down. However, our earl and Sebastian are competing directly against Fassad Blavat, since he’s essentially running the place... at least as far as the battle is concerned. I don’t consider this the start of the “game” between the twins.

Bath “Music Hall”? Blavat kills off some of their own money donors, who had been receiving leftover Polaris and Vega blood. He tries to kill Violet but ultimately fails. I don’t think our earl and Sebastian ever told the local authorities about what they found there, since they dropped Violet off at the local hospital and then went straight from Bath to the townhouse in London. You could say it’s a win for them, since the cult lost money and Violet is still alive. However, there was no battle; this is more like part of the aftermath from SMH.

1. Phantomhive townhouse. Real Ciel was there and shot Soma and Agni. Lord Polaris was there and stabbed Agni to death. I have to call this a major win for real Ciel. Agni is gone, and Soma is a sworn enemy of our earl, simply because he doesn’t know about the twin. In the aftermath, we still don’t know where Sieglinde’s and Wolfram’s loyalties lie. Our earl 0: real Ciel 1

2. Phantomhive Manor. It’s the first time the twins are confronting each other face to face. Another win for real Ciel, since he takes over the manor and keeps Tanaka (for now). The Midfords don’t know what side to take. The Yard and local police arrest our earl and Sebastian, as well as Blavat. This is where Lucas our earl gets confused for the Commander of the Pigmask Army Lord Sirius. Our earl escapes police/Yard custody and keeps his other servants, but he’s lost his title and his home and all its contents, and he has to go into hiding. Our earl 0: real Ciel 2

3. Yorkshire. Several maids hired there were once nurses at Karnstein Hospital. Mey-Rin and Ran-Mao destroy the blood supply “factory” at Heathfield’s manor, as Polaris has now confirmed to real Ciel, so a win for our earl. It’s the first win that real Ciel acknowledges for his younger twin. Our earl 1: real Ciel 2 However, we have to see if anyone from Heathfield’s manor comes back into the story, besides Polaris, of course. Some of them — like Jane, Abbie, the steward, and Chris Heathfield — are still people of interest... and I wish Ran-Mao and Mey-Rin had thoroughly interrogated them. Especially since Polaris is talking about killing them for being “useless”.

4. Norfolk. That’s where the orphanage is, and it could be a good place to learn something about Lord Vega, whether it’s twins or a single individual. Finny and Snake are going there, since they are minors (or can pass for minors. I think Snake might not be). It’s said that the children gain a unique education there. The Aurora Society connection is a wealthy donor. Score unknown. Since the previous win belongs to our earl, this assignment could go very poorly for Snake and/or Finny.

5. Wiltshire. That’s the location of the “former servicemen’s sanatorium”, so Lau and Bard are headed there. There is supposed to be a nurse there who performs miracles, but the known Aurora Society connection is several of the doctors there. This could be a good place to find Lord Canopus, who seems to need a lot of medical care; this could be the miracle nurse or simply someone there for treatment. If Blavat is back to scheming for the cult, he could be part of the racket for this “miracle nurse”. Score unknown. If the orphanage assignment goes poorly, Bard’s and Lau’s chances of doing well go up. If Finny and Snake are successful, then Bard and Lau might be in more serious trouble.

6. Brighton. That’s the resort hotel where our earl and Sebastian are going. It doesn’t cost much, but service is top notch. People extend their vacations and even move in permanently to stay there. This would be a good place to run into any number of important people: the queen, John Brown, the Viscount of Druitt, etc. Earlier, I thought this would be where our earl and Sebastian run into real Ciel and Undertaker again, but now I don’t think so.... Score Unknown. Whatever the confrontation here, our earl and Sebastian should prevail. Even if it’s against the queen and John Brown.

The worst thing about the assignments is that Sebastian isn’t participating in three of them. It’s possible that our earl’s plans are successful in all four assignments. However, the “game” is more interesting if real Ciel gets a win here and there. So, we have to expect set-backs from time to time, making it likely that either Finny and Snake or Bard and Lau will fail. It would be highly unusual in this sort of story for every battle to be a success for the protagonists. We would expect the demon to win any battle, of course, but like I said, he’s not directly involved in three of these four assignments. And the first assignment has already been successfully completed... as far as we can tell.

7. Phantomhive Manor again? The final confrontation between the twins might happen on shared family turf. If we ever finally get a backstory on Undertaker, it might be here, since it heavily involves the Phantomhive family. Score unknown, but our earl should prevail. And the contract should be fulfilled, if it wasn’t already fulfilled back in Brighton.

Seven needles and seven battles.