She/her. 25 long Winters and Summers. I'm Shy™️. Might post original work, or might just read fanfiction and battle my increasing cosmic hiraeth.
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
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I do have a piece of writing advice, actually.
See, the first time I grew parsnips, I fucked it up good. I hadn't seen parsnips sprouting before, right, and in my eagerness I was keeping a close eye on the row. And every time I saw some intruding grass coming up, I twitched it right out, and went back to anticipating the germination of my parsnips.
But it turns out parsnips take a bit longer than anything else I'd ever grown to distinguish themselves visually. It's just the two little split leaves, almost identical to a newly seeded bit of kentucky bluegrass when they first come up, and they take a good bit to establish themselves and spread out flat before the main stem with its first distinctive scallopy leaf gets going.
I didn't get any parsnips, not that year, because I'd weeded them all out as soon as they showed their faces, with my 'ugh no that's grass' twitchy horticulture finger.
The next year, having in retrospect come to suspect what had happened, I left the row alone and didn't weed anything until all the sprouts coming up had all had a bit to set in and show their colors, and I've grown lots of parsnips since. They're kind of a slow crop, not a huge return, but I like them and watching them grow and digging them up, and their papery little seeds in the second year, if you don't harvest one either on purpose or because you misjudged the frost, so it's worth it.
Anyway, whenever I see someone stuck and struggling with their writing who's gotten into that frustration loop of typing a few words, rejecting them, backspacing, and starting again, I find myself thinking, you gotta stop weeding your parsnips, man.
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😭👏🥰
It’s Been a Long, Long Time



Azriel x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Warnings: memory loss.
Summary: The last time Azriel had seen his mate was nearly four centuries ago. The bond went silent and for those many years, Azriel believed his mate was dead. As he sits with Elain in her garden, the bond suddenly comes alive once again.
A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist
•••
The day Azriel lost his mate, he was in agony. Not because of the pain, no. It was because of the lack of knowledge if she was alive or not. The bond fell quiet and Azriel could hardly grasp onto it. It was as if he were trying to catch smoke. There was nothing to touch. For years he searched for her, he never wanted to give up. He knew that every moment he waited, she could be in danger.
Even long after she disappeared, Azriel still searched. However, as the centuries ticked by, Azriel began to lose hope. He was sure he had searched every possible location. There was no trace of Y/N.
Azriel sat with Elain in her garden. He had noticed a positive change in the middle Archeron sister for the past few months. When Rhys tasked him to watch over Elain and help her adjust, he originally hated the idea. But he knew the reason why Rhys had set him the task. It was coming up to the 400th anniversary since Y/N had disappeared.
As Azriel looked down at the ring in his hands, he could feel his heart plummet. Even if being around Elain had helped distract himself as she explained all of the flowers to him and their various meanings, the closer it got to the anniversary of Y/N’s disappearance, Azriel felt himself slip away from everyone and everything.
The ring was still beautiful even after all this time. Azriel made sure it was. Despite vowing to never take off her wedding ring, Y/N always took it off before bed, deeming that it was uncomfortable when she rested her head upon her hand to sleep. But the first thing she did every morning was slip the ring back upon her finger. The night she was taken it had been no different except one thing, Azriel had not been there. His job had kept him away for an extra day, and for the first time since they were mated and married, Azriel had not fallen asleep next to Y/N. He had regretted that for four hundred years. The only reminder of her was the ring he found on her bedside cabinet that morning.
“Azriel!” The sound of Elain’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
“Sorry?” He lifted his gaze from the ring and met Elain’s.
“I asked you what that was,” Elain said, gesturing down to the ring in his hand.
Azriel stilled. He never liked speaking about it with anyone but Rhys or Cassian. But seeing how Elain’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern, he could tell that a saddened expression had slipped onto his face.
Azriel sighed. “It was my mate’s wedding ring.”
“Mate?” Elain said, her expression falling slightly.
Azriel cringed internally. He knew about Elain’s small crush on him. She did not hide it well. Though he did not return her feelings, he still enjoyed her company. With her, she understood when he just wished to sit in silence and when he didn’t want to talk, she continued the conversation on her own.
Perhaps there was a time where he could have retired her feelings, Elain was rather beautiful, but she would never compare to Y/N. Azriel had never had another relationship after Y/N disappeared. He only ever wanted Y/N and he would only ever want her.
“Yes,” Azriel said, swallowing hard. “She- she disappeared four-hundred years ago. I was never able to find her.”
The small hurt expression on Elain’s face changed to one of sympathy. “Azriel, I am so sorry.”
Azriel nodded and looked back at the ring. “I have looked everywhere and there is no trace of her. I have always felt…empty since she disappeared. She was part of my soul that I have never gotten back.”
Elain dropped the bulbs she was holding back into her basket. “How do you know she is not out there? You couldn’t have searched everywhere on the planet?”
“I have searched everywhere where it was possible to take her,” Azriel answered. “I have found absolutely nothing.”
“Then believe that she is still out there,” Elain said.
“Elain, it has been nearly four-hundred years,” Azriel said. “I gave up hope of her still being alive a long time ago.”
“Do you still love her?” Elain asked.
“More than anything,” Azriel said instantly. “I haven’t been with anyone after she disappeared. I tried, about two-hundred years ago but I couldn’t do it. It felt so wrong. No one will ever compare to her.”
“Then you shouldn’t give up hope,” Elain said. “You don’t give up hope on those you love.”
Azriel did not reply. He simply looked back down at the ring once more. It was centuries old yet it still looked brand new. Azriel made sure that the silver band never tarnished. Made sure that the gem never stopped sparkling. It looked the same as the day he had slipped it onto her finger. Elain, sensing Azriel wished to no longer talk about the topic, returned back to her garden.
Ever since Y/N had disappeared, Azriel had always felt like he had lost part of his soul, and he supposed he had. Y/N was everything to him. She was who he lived for. She was the one and only love he ever needed, ever wanted. The night the bond snapped for them was one Azriel would never forget. Even if he tried, he would never be able to forget it. The initial shock then the pure feeling of the love she sent him. For the first time in his life, Azriel knew what it was like to be loved so deeply and unconditionally. It did not matter whether he deserved it or not. When he was with Y/N, none of that mattered. All that mattered was him and her and the fact that they were together.
As Azriel tucked the ring back into his breast pocket, a large surge of emotion was brought to life within him. He clutched at his chest. Azriel cried out.
“Azriel?” Elain questioned, shooting to her feet. “Are you okay?”
Her voice was muffled as Azriel continued to claw at his chest. Something was threatening to burst through.
“Something is different,” he forced out.
“Do I need to get anyone?” Elain asked.
“Rhys,” Azriel said. “I need Rhys.”
Elain nodded and ran out of the garden and into the house in search of his brother.
Azriel tried to stand but fell to his knees immediately. He could barely breathe. The pressure in his chest was gradually increasing and he could not place the feeling anywhere.
“I have Rhys,” Elain said, rushing back into the garden, Rhys following behind her.
“Az, what’s wrong?” Rhys asked, kneeling down next to him.
“I don’t know,” Azriel said, breathing heavily. “There is a pressure in my chest. I don’t know what it is.”
“What were you doing before it started?” Rhys asked.
“Telling–” Azriel cut himself off as he yelled out. The pressure was becoming worse and Azriel was sure that if he tried to repress it anymore, it would surely kill him. “Telling Elain about Y/N.”
“Is he going to be okay?” Elain asked quietly, standing a small distance away.
“Az, you need to relax,” Rhys said, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I can’t,” Azriel said through gritted teeth.
“The pressure will kill you if you don’t relax,” Rhys said sternly. “So, please, relax.”
Azriel met Rhy’s eyes and stopped clawing at his chest. The pain in his chest gradually got worse and worse. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before.
“Rhys,” Azriel whispered, his voice full of pain. “I can’t…”
“Yes you can,” Rhys said. “Just relax, Az.”
Azriel closed his eyes and relaxed his body, letting the pain overtake his body until he cried out once again. However as soon as he cried out, the pain stopped and a new feeling overtook his body. It was overwhelming and Azriel backed away from Rhys’s touch.
“Azriel,” Rhys said. “What is it?”
“I don’t know. I can’t–”
Azriel cut himself off as a familiar feeling rose within him. This time he didn’t claw at his chest, he gently placed his hand upon it. The emotions he was feeling weren’t his. They were someone else’s. Azriel hadn’t felt this way in a long time. He had forgotten what it felt like. But it felt right.
“The mating bond,” Azriel said. “I feel the mating bond.”
Even Rhys looked shocked as he looked at Azriel. “Are you sure?”
Azriel nodded. “I can feel it. I can feel her, Rhys.”
Tears sprung to Azriel’s eyes. He tugged on that bond that had lain dormant for four hundred years. It was weak though he felt her tug back. Azriel could have sobbed at that feeling alone.
“Take me back to my home, Rhys,” Azriel said.
The home Azriel shared with Y/N. He hadn’t entered it in a long time. He could never bring himself to. Every single time he tried, he couldn’t open the door. That house was the home he made with Y/N and Azriel did not want to be there if she wasn’t.
“Are you sure?” Rhys asked.
“I’m sure,” Azriel said. “She is there, Rhys. I can feel it.”
Rhys nodded and winnowed them to the outside of Azriel’s home on the outskirts of Velaris. As soon as they arrived, Azriel could already smell the familiar scent of his mate. He pushed away from Rhys and opened the front door.
And there she was.
Y/N stood in the middle of the room looking around with her hands on her hips. “You could have dusted, Az.”
Azriel simply couldn’t believe it. “Y/N? Are you really here?”
Y/N smiled softly and Azriel nearly collapsed right there. That smile was always in his dreams but seeing it again in person…
Azriel rushed over to her and scooped her in his arms as they both sank to the floor. Azriel couldn’t stop the sobs that came from him and neither could Y/N. The bond between them hummed happily. Four hundred years of being apart and now finally being reunited. It was something Azriel had given up on a long time ago.
“How are you here?” Azriel mumbled, his sobs subsided but his tears didn’t. “I thought you were dead.”
Y/N pulled away from the hug and cupped Azriel’s cheeks and wiped away the tears. “You are exactly as I remember. It has been so long since I remembered what you looked like.”
“What do you mean?” Azriel asked.
Y/N sighed and held onto Azriel tighter, as if she were afraid she was going to be taken once more. “The night I was taken, I was drugged, they wanted me for my power of healing and I refused to give in. They were bad men and I was not going to help them no matter how hard they tried to convince me. They drugged my food to make me compliant but the only thing I could think about was you and our bond. Once they realised who I was and who I was mated to, they gave me another drug. This time it was one to dampen the power of the mating bond. It made me stop feeling you.”
“I remember that night,” Azriel said. “I thought you blocked it off.”
Y/N shook her head. “Once the mating bond was dampened, they drugged me with something else. Over time I began to forget things, important things. My name, where I came from, my family, my friends…you.”
Azriel wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her body flush against his. The sound of her heart beating was enough to bring a new surge of tears to his eyes. He never thought he would hear it again.
“They took me to a place on the continent, an entire city deep below ground with its own artificial sun and moon, whole fields and towns. Once I did not remember anything, they gave me a new identity and a whole new life.”
“You didn’t remember me?” Azriel asked.
“I didn’t,” Y/N said sadly, threading her fingers in his hair. “But I always felt that there was a part of me missing. Even though the mating bond was repressed, I always felt that something was not quite right.”
Azriel’s heart fell. This whole time he had been in agony that his mate had been missing, while she did not remember him at all. “How did you escape?” he asked.
“If you believe me or not, there are good people in that community, incredible people,” Y/N said. “They helped me flush the drugs from my system and helped me remember who I once was.”
“The bond?” Azriel asked. “Did they help with that?”
Y/N shook her head. “Once the drugs were from my system and I was finally above ground, I felt you. I winnowed back here instantly. Consider me surprised when this house looks exactly the same as when I left four-hundred years ago.”
“I haven’t been able to come back here since you were taken,” Azriel whispered, his voice soft and vulnerable.
Y/N caressed his face and wiped his tears away. “Oh, my darling. I am here now. Only if you still want me, of course.”
Azriel frowned. “Why wouldn’t I want you?”
“Az, my love, it has been four-hundred years. I would understand if you moved on in those years,” Y/N said.
Azriel shook his head. “There has been no one else. I tried almost two centuries ago but I couldn’t do it. All I wanted was you.” When Azriel looked at her face again, he nearly burst into tears once more. It had been so long since he had looked into those loving eyes. The type of love he once thought he never deserved. “If you had found anyone, I would understand. You didn’t remember me.” Just that statement alone made Azriel hurt all over again.
Y/N sighed a pained noise. “I won’t lie to you and say that there was no one, Azriel. There were a couple of people I have been with over the past four centuries.”
A new surge of tears streamed down Azriel’s cheeks as he gripped onto Y/N tighter.
“But,” she continued, “there has been no one for many years and no one ever stuck around long. I could never fully commit. It was as if my body knew that it was wrong. I did like a few people but I never loved them. I could never love anyone more than I love you.”
“I never want you to go anywhere again,” Azriel whispered into her hair. “I missed you so much.”
Azriel’s fingers tangled in her hair as he rested his forehead against hers. Her soft breath fanned his face and Azriel swore he could nearly faint. Her scent, her touch, her breath. They were all things Azriel never thought he would ever witness again.
“I am never going anywhere again,” Y/N mumbled. “I will remain beside you forever, my love.”
Azriel reluctantly unwrapped one hand from around Y/N and reached into his pocket and pulled out her ring. Y/N gasped once she saw it.
“You kept it?” She asked.
“Of course I kept it,” Azriel said. “I always have it on me. It was the only thing I had that reminded me of you.”
Y/N wiped her tears away as Azriel took her hand gently in hers and slid the ring onto her finger. “Perfect,” he whispered.
Y/N looked him in the eyes. The love she held within them was something Azriel never forgot. He would see them in his dreams and nightmares. It was something he never thought he would see in person again.
“Can I kiss you?” Azriel asked, almost afraid of the answer.
Y/N smiled. “Az, I am your mate and your wife. There might have been a four century gap in our relationship but those two facts do not change. I love you. Of course you can kiss me. Kiss me until you can’t anymore.”
The shadowsinger smiled. “Then I’m afraid we will be here a while.”
Azriel finally kissed his mate and wife for the first time in four hundred years.
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Feysand x Howl’s Moving Castle ✨
#this is so cute#feyre archeron#rhysand#feysand#rhys x feyre#studio ghibli#good gosh I am in love#heart eyes
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Feyre and Rhys - A Court of Thorns and Roses
Artist: @hachandraws
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NO ONE EVER DOES. NO ONE EVER LOOKED—NOT REALLY.
djklmnx / x / Gokstadt/Ganymede, Paisley Rekdal / cokegirl / My Love Mine All Mine, Mitski / You (2018–) / retroowl8 / Mariners Apartment Complex, Lana Del Rey / Castlevania (2017–2021) / Louise Gluck
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The Archeron Sisters ☀️🌙
This gorgeous artwork is done by the lovely and insanely talented @millyillus on Instagram
Commissioned by myself
Link to Instagram post
Characters belong to Sarah J Maas
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This is my own friendly reminder to myself to go travelling more.
I think the reason fated mates are considered rare in ACoTaR is because these heifers don’t leave their own courts! Three current mates are human. We suspect Helion and LOA are mates. None of these characters are from the same area. I’m 99% sure Eris and Mor may be mates. Again. Not from the same court.
TLDR these bitches need to travel and they’d easily find their mates.
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Too accurate 💀
writing be like
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My gods this is so cute 🥰
Gwyn and Azriel 🤍 by Artcraawl (link)



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I remember why I’m in love
He's a workaholic he's a hopeless romantic he's a gentleman a noir based knight he hates touching sweaty people he loooves a suicidal mission so don't try him he silently fucking kills you and kills you and kills you with just a stare you better not annoy him he'll try to not roll his eyes but would call you a dumbass on your nagging face the official pussy licker 3000 he's a confirmed metalhead with a clubbing rave slut soul that doesn't need to resort to poetry his hypocrite ass actually knows poetry anyways he'll listen to ramblings until three am non-stop say anything bad about his mom and he'll get his emotional support ancient dagger ready for the slaughter so watch the fuck out Azriel last name Shadowsinger truly one of the man of all times
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Rhys and Feyre - A Court of Thorns and Roses
Artist: @nadineheitmeier
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I’m gonna cry this is so beautiful 😭🫶🥰

“I believe everything happens for a reason.”
Feyre, Rhys and Nyx - A Court of Thorns and Roses
Artist: @/kiraky.ml
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This is the cutest series ever. I’m loving every chapter of it 🫶
Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 10
Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.
Author’s note: yall. I love this part. It’s all Azzy baby.
(Masterlist)
Cassian: I feel weird doing this
Cassian: it feels like an invasion of privacy
Rhys: just let me know, one way or the other, how she feels about Az
Rhys: it’s not really an invasion. They invited you.
Rhys: this way, if she doesn’t like him, we can help Az move on
Cassian: they’re grilling her about Az
Cassian: if she doesn’t like him she’s an incredible actress
Cassian: shit, the movie’s starting - talk later
-
You wake up sometime close to midnight, throat dry and in desperate need of water. You groan into your pillow, reaching for the glass on your nightstand only to not find it.
Cursing yourself for washing the dish and not replacing it, you push off the bed, not quite opening your eyes fully in the hopes of going back to sleep quickly.
You open your door, padding through the dark living room toward your kitchen. You grab a glass from the cabinet and open the fridge, filling your glass from the carafe.
Your legs start growing cold in the night air as you slide the pitcher back in, closing the door with your hip as you walk back to your room, only to stop short at a phone screen lighting up the living room.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, sitting on the couch at Azriel’s feet. He bends his legs, pulling his feet towards him to let you sit down.
He looked incredibly cozy - he was wrapped up in a massive blanket that showed the night sky, his tiny stuffed bat was perched on his chest. He locks his phone, putting it on the coffee table, giving you his full attention.
“Rhys and his dad were arguing over the phone, and those fights can last ages. I wanted to give him some privacy.”
To accent his point, you can hear muffled shouting through the wall, Rhys’s anger permeating the wall between you two.
“And to be somewhere more quiet.”
He pauses, then looks at you, hazel eyes glowing in the darkness, “I’m sorry, I should go, I kind of auto-piloted over here-“
“You don’t have to apologize. It’s fine,” you say, nestling into the couch.
“Does he have a name?”
He knits his brows at your question, until he follows your eyes to the bat in his arms.
“Uh, no, he doesn’t.”
“That’s a shame,” your gaze lingers on the bat as Azriel sits up. You two fall into a peaceful quiet, until he tells you, voice soft, “I uh - Cassian got me this plushie. When we were kids, my uh step-brothers lit my hands on fire.”
You turn to him, and he’s not sure if it’s how big your eyes are peering at him, or the way your hair is mused with sleep, or just how small and vulnerable you look, but he continues.
“Cassian bought it for me when I was in the hospital. He didn’t have much money, but with his last damn dime he bought me this stuffed bat.”
He looks at it, the thing that has brought him such comfort from such a horrifying experience. It was worn, its color inconsistent across the fabric from where his hands and arms have constantly held onto it.
“Sometimes in my dreams I’m that kid again, and they’re pouring the gasoline on my hands again. But the - the bat helps.”
Hence why he brought it over, you think.
He keeps talking, unsure why. “The bat can also be warmed up and it helps when my hands hurt.”
“Do they hurt now?”
“A little,” he tells you.
“May I?” You nod towards his hands, and he can’t hide the shock on his face at your question.
He’s never had anyone ask. Everything about this is so new. For someone to let him come to them when he was comfortable, instead of feeling entitled to his trauma.
He reaches his hands out to you, placing them gently in your hands. Your hands are cold, but soft. Your thumbs begin stroking softly, working their way into the muscle, and he moans at the sensation.
His cheeks redden, but you continue your task at hand, rubbing into his hands, soothing the dull ache that always accompanies them.
He almost misses your words, too focused on the way your fingers feel.
“I wish the world had been kinder to you.”
You don’t look up, your eyes focused on his hands as you continue your work.
“But at least you had Cassian and Rhys to be there. I know it doesn’t stop what happened, but at least you weren’t alone.”
His lips part, and his fingers twitch, the urge to wrap yours in his stronger with your kind words.
But he doesn’t, not yet. He lets you continue your work, massaging his hands, and a comfortable silence settles over both of you.
He shifts his legs as you turn to face toward him, and he cages you in with his legs. He pushes forward a bit, resting his forehead on yours as you continue massaging his hands.
“Was it hard? Having to let your hands heal?”
“Mm, yes. It was a pain, especially having to relearn everything. I dropped so many cups and plates because my grip would just give out.”
You’re quiet as you let him ruminate on old memories, your touch making him feel so calm. He feels so far away from that boy who had to learn how to grasp doorknobs, to put on socks, to hold a brush.
He thinks about those months and how Cassian and Rhys’s love carried him through those years. How they helped rebandage his hands every day, how they would massage his hands, how they would ensure he did his daily exercises.
They were the most important people in his life, but maybe you’ve wiggled your way into getting that descriptor too.
It’s quiet in your apartment, the only noise the humming from your throat.
“What are you humming?”
You squint your eyes, trying to remember the name of it. “It’s by Mitski, I think.”
He pulls his right from your grasp, pulling his phone back out, along with a pair of headphones. He opens the Spotify app on his phone, typing in ‘Mitski’ into the search bar.
“Oh yeah, it’s that one,” you point at the screen, as he plugs in the headphones, offering one to you. You move closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder to be close enough to share the headphones.
You nestle it into your ear, the soft sounds of “My Love Mine All Mine” playing into the earbuds that connect the two of you.
Azriel looks down at you, how soft and content you look. He wraps an arm around you, holding you to him as he moves his legs underneath you, stretching them out against the sofa. His hold on you causes you to shift with him, your body half on his, an arm around his waist as your face is buried into his neck.
Your eyes grow heavier, the soft melody of Mitski’s voice and Azriel’s fingers stroking through your hair lulling you back to sleep
-
Cassian opens the door to his room, ready to head out for this godforsaken 8 AM class he had to sign up for. He’s heading towards the kitchen to grab whatever fruit you two have, he thinks there’s either a banana or an orange, when he stops in his doorway.
You and Azriel are asleep on the couch. You’re on top of Azriel, your face tucked between his chest and the couch. Cassian looks closer and sees that your arm is wrapped around the bat plushie he bought Azriel all those years ago. Azriel’s arms are wrapped around you loosely, keeping you in place.
He laughs at the pair of headphones that are wrapped between the two of you, tangled amidst arms and hair, music still playing from them.
He pulls his phone out, snapping a quick photo. He opens his messages, searching for the chat entitled they’re idiots, which included Rhys, Mor, and Feyre, and sends the photo. He grabs an orange, heading to the door trying to be as silent as possible.
As he reaches for the doorknob as his phone starts vibrating with new messages.
Feyre: they look so cute tho 🥰
Feyre: omg Cass wake her up
Feyre: she has class early today!!
Rhys: and risk the wrath of Azriel in the morning?
Rhys: don’t do it
Rhys: he’s a cranky bastard in the morning
Cassian types out a response, shutting the door softly behind him.
Cassian: maybe he won’t be today
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Wow wow wow wow

Azriel - A Court Of Thorns And Roses
Recreation of “Fallen Angel” by Roberto Ferri
Artist: moonrosesxart 🖤 [original art below]

Fallen Angel, 2011 - Roberto Ferri
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The hero’s journey be like 😂



dune part two
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I pretend you’re mine all the damn time
Summary: on a mission Azriel ingests a breeding tonic and you offer to help him release
Warnings: SMUT, PIV, sex pollen, slight dubcon
Author’s note: I think this is my longest fic ever and also probably the fic I’m proudest of so yall BETTER enjoy. I think this is my favorite fic I’ve ever written ugh 😩 I will likely write a part two 🫶
Word count: 2.6k
(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)
“What the fuck,” you grunt, as you land a hit on another Illyrian after several minutes of exchanging blows.
You jab him in his ribs, blocking his retaliating kick. You huff as his hand grabs the knife at his side, deflecting your punch to his face.
You go low, swiping his legs out from under him, causing him to crash onto the ground. You climb on top of him, ready to land another blow, when his legs push up from underneath you, throwing you off of him.
He climbs on top of you, grabbing you by the collar to throw you back into the ground, when something strikes the back of his head, causing him to go limp on top of you.
Your confusion doesn’t last long as hazel eyes meet yours over the massive figure unconscious on top of you.
“I had it covered,” you said, pushing the male off of you.
Azriel snorts, “sure you did.”
He reaches out a hand, which you gladly take. He pulls you up with more force than he intended, pulling you in very close to his body. Your breath hitches, his smell of night-chilled mist and cedar invading your senses.
Your heart is beating wildly, and you’re sure he can hear it as he looks at you. He’s smiling down at you, a smile that weakens your knees and distracts you enough to forget all about the abandoned Illyrian camp you two were searching in.
At least, it was supposed to be abandoned, according to the intel you two had received. Azriel had asked you to come with him, the two of you making an exquisite pair on missions. Somehow you both knew when the other needed help, exemplified when Azriel hit the assailant from behind moments ago.
It’s like you both had a sixth sense for when the other was in danger.
You’re about to say something when something hits Azriel on the back of the head, causing him to lose his balance and stumble forward into you.
His mouth turns into a sneer, as he whips around and the Illyrian you hadn’t seen or noticed grabs Azriel by the collar, pushing him into a wall full of bottles and tubes. The guy grabs one of the random bottles from the wall, breaking the lid and pouring the powdered contents onto Azriel’s face.
“Shit,” the words come from your lips as your knife finds its mark in the dark haired male’s back. You rush forward, withdrawing the knife before turning him around and plunging it into his throat.
You don’t pay attention as the body falls to the ground, only moving towards Azriel, who was growing unsteady on his feet.
“Hey, hey, hey, I’m here, I’m here,” you say, placing your hand on his arm. He snatched his arm away from you, and you can’t help the sound that comes from you at his rejection.
He is groaning, sweat beading on his forehead. He leans further against the wall, trying to escape your reach.
“Don’t,” he grits out.
“What is it? Do you know what the powder was?”
Azriel finds his canteen of water, unscrewing the cap and pouring it over his head.
“Az,” you say, but a growl cuts you off.
“Don’t,” he grits again, “don’t say my name like that.”
“Like what?”
He braces himself against the wall, breathing heavily. He finally looks at you, allowing you to see his eyes. Golden irises have been replaced by blown pupils, a black pit of desire. The room is coated in the scent of his arousal.
“Azriel,” you say tersely, “we have to go now, we have to go and see Madja because I have no clue what you inhaled.”
Azriel pushes himself further against the wall as you approach him, trying to put as much distance between you two as possible.
“I can’t- I can’t winnow us out of here,” he says, the words strained. It’s then you notice that his shadows are nowhere to be seen, having disappeared when your attention was fully on the Illyrian in front of you.
You step closer again, and his chest heaves with the groan he lets out.
“Don’t. Touch. Me.” The words come out harsh and clipped, a tone he’s never taken with you. You’re trying desperately to think of a solution, a way out of this, when you see Azriel’s hand gripping his thigh, moving closer to his crotch.
His face is red with heat and embarassment, but you can’t look away as he begins to palm himself through his leathers, as if he wasn’t in control of his hand.
“Oh gods,” you say, “this was that experimental breeding shit, wasn’t it?”
Azriel nods, his throat tight with pain.
“Fuck,” you say, and he groans.
You think about what you know about the sickening breeding experiments some of the Illyrians were doing. Previous intel from Az had told you all that they had created this drug that made you-
“Oh my gods,” you say, “we have to-“
“No,” he snarls, “no. I can do this on my own.”
“Come on, Az, you’ll die if you don’t.”
He clinches his hands in a fist, his face turning red with restraint. He looks up at the ceiling, and his eyes are damp. His wings twitch and flutter.
“We don’t know that,” he says, his hand undoing the string on his leather, any control he had over the hand is gone as his hand wraps around his cock and he begins pumping it.
“Am I really that repulsive that you’d rather die than have sex with me?”
A moan comes from his mouth. His voice comes out quiet and strained, his eyes fixed on the ceiling.
“I need it to be real. With you - if we - can we pretend it’s real?”
You stop breathing, his words clanging through your mind. “What do you mean?”
The words. He can’t get the words out. His body is on fire. He’s the Night Court’s spy master, for Cauldron’s sake.
And he can’t fucking move. Not when you’re looking at him like that.
“This isn’t how I ever would have imagined our first time.”
“But you’ve imagined it?”
“Gods, yes.”
You step closer, your hand reaching out towards him. You look into his eyes, wanting to know that it’s okay. All you find in response is pleading. Your hands lightly touch the buckles of his armor, and he gasps, his movements in his pants growing faster at your touch.
A man starved. He gazes up at the ceiling, tears about to leak from his eyes at this entire impossible situation. You were going to ruin him. You were going to break his heart, and then have sex with him to keep this from driving him mad.
It was cruel. The mother was cruel for this.
“I’ve thought a lot about it too,” you whisper, your voice softly carrying through the room.
He whips his head down at you, watching your fingers undo his straps. Your touch cools his body, but not for long.
Desire roars through him, and it is taking every ounce of restraint not to rip off your clothes and take you. He’s fighting the primal instincts that the pollen targets, his hands itching to touch you, to ravish you, opting to focus on your words.
“I always wanted you to confess your undying love for me,” you chuckle, “or, sometimes when I’m alone in the middle of the night, touching myself to you.”
A strangled sob escapes his throat at your words, causing him to notice his surroundings for a second. He can smell you, and it pushes him even further in need.
He can’t stop his hips from moving forward, meeting your own. His hand retracts from his pants, wrapping around you instead to pull you closer. Every word from you causes his resolve to crumble just a bit more as his hips grind against yours.
You were a bit breathless at the action, so you say, “when I’m feeling romantic, you tell me you can’t dare to be away from me for another moment, and you need me.”
A snarl breaks from his lips, causing your arousal to deepen. You are soaked, likely through your leathers.
“But when I’m just needy, I like to imagine you hearing me moaning your name through the door, and you burst in, claiming me as yours.”
His mouth opens as he moans, and you push the fabric of his leathers off his chest, raking your nails down his torso.
“Gods,” he exhales, “I-“
You cut him off, needing to get the words and fantasies you kept so deeply buried out there, future consequences be damned.
“I need you,” you whisper, “I’ve needed you for a long time.”
You were well aware of how much pain he was in trying to delay this for as long as possible.
His eyes are closed as your fingers slide down to the strings of his leathers. You don’t let yourself think too much about what you’re doing, about how the flight home will be, about how after this your teeny, tiny crush on him will be blown out exponentially worse.
Your fingers gently undo the ties, and his hips seek out the heat of your hands, begging for the friction they could provide.
You slide his pants down, his hard, throbbing cock springing free at the loss of its confines. Your mouth dries a bit at the size of him and the blood rushing to both your cheeks and between your hips.
You look from his cock to his face, teeth clenched in restraint.
His eyes open to yours at the sound of your leathers unbuckling, a soft, “no” hitting your ears.
“Azriel,” you start, but a moan escapes him at his name on your tongue.
He starts chanting your name like a prayer, over and over, a cadence to his chantings as you peel off the top of your leathers, exposing the expanse of skin underneath.
The chanting continues as you pull off the bra you wore, baring your chest to him completely. His hand wraps around his cock, the tip already angrily leaking in desperation.
The chanting picks up in tempo as you undo the strings of your own pants, eyes not straying from his as he strokes himself to your half-naked form. You push your pants down, pushing your underwear down as well, pulling them off with your boots, kicking your discarded clothes into a corner.
You walk back towards him, the sounds of his stroking and panting utterly sinful through the room. His breath hitches as you near him, reaching a hand out towards his cock.
“May I?” You ask, and you want to laugh at the formality of it, if you weren’t terrified of him saying no.
He nods lightly, his throat bobbing, and your fingers graze his as you grab onto his cock, wrapping your hand around it. His wings spread out at your grasp, head tilting back.
You take the opportunity to kiss his neck, and his grip on the desk is turning his knuckles white.
Your strokes don’t slow down, and it’s not until now that you feel just how wet you are. You feel bad, your arousal a byproduct of the state he’s in. He can’t help his arousal, but you can help yours.
You don’t let the shame linger for too long as you spread your palm across his chest, pushing him down onto the desk, crawling on top of him as he sinks lower.
His back hits the desk, his large membranous wings spread out behind him. Having him laid out beneath you, you allow yourself a few seconds to take in just how beautiful he was.
His tattoos covered his shoulders, making parts of his skin blend in with the darkness of the desk beneath him. His mouth parted slightly, head tilted back towards the skies, as if asking the heavens to watch your sinful acts.
You climb on top of him, the heat of your body driving him mad with desire.
“Is this okay?” You ask, trepidation coating your words.
“Gods, yes,” he replies, knowing he shouldn’t let this happen, but unable to stop himself. You’re hovering over his cock, the organ twitching as it feels just how close you are to sinking onto him.
The guilt is tampered down by the ever-growing need in his brain to breed, breed, breed. It was absolutely vile whatever these experiments were, but holy gods did it unlock a level of primal need he didn’t think existed.
His hands find your hips, and he can’t control how harshly he pulls you down onto his cock, a sharp inhale coming from you in the painful stretch.
He winces at the noise, but you stop him from allowing self-doubt to run through his head as you lean down and kiss him.
He moans into your mouth, his deep, harsh thrusts making the kiss nothing but teeth clacking and wet noises. Your nails dig into his skin as you keep grinding up and down on his cock, every thrust seemingly feeling deeper and deeper inside of you.
He keeps chanting your name, over and over, into your mouth, and you change the pace of your thrusts to coincide with it. His hands smooth over your hips, gliding up to your breasts. His fingers pinch your nipples, causing your back to arch around his touch.
You know he can’t hold out much longer - he’s painfully close, and so are you. Your stomach’s in knots, desperate for more, more, more. You reach out a gentle hand, caressing the nail on his wing. His eyes shoot open, wings flaring out as he gasps, emptying himself into you.
It causes the same effect in you, the both of you finishing at the same time. His thrusts slowed down, but he kept his tight grip on your hips. You can feel the pads of his fingers digging into your skin, leaving small bruises in their wake. Your foreheads are together, panting as he holds you for a moment.
For one glimmer of a moment, he’s holding onto you, sweat glistening on both of your bodies.
Status report.
Rhys’s voice fills your mind through the tiny opening in your mind you allow him to correspond with you in. You can tell Azriel is getting the same message as his eyes lose their shine, a glossy effect taking over them.
With a heavy heart, you pull off of Azriel, unable to respond to Rhys while his brother’s cock was still inside of you. You start pulling your leathers back on, covering the fluids and marks littering your body - the only proof of what just happened between you two.
The air is tense as Azriel dresses, still speaking with Rhysand. After a moment, his voice comes out, cold and detached.
“Let’s go,” he says, walking out of the room without another word, an icy air following him. Your gaze follows him out the door, before looking around the room.
The stench of sex is in the air, but there’s almost a hint of pain in the aroma. The air is suffocating you - you have to leave, you have to follow Az.
You look to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling. Your eyes turn down to gaze at your feet as you slowly trudge out of the room, knowing you likely just ruined your most important friendship.
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