#elriel drabble

[slytherhys]

Night Daisies & Other Excuses - A drabble

A/N: just a silly drabble because a friend gave me this idea and I just had to write something. | divider by @strangergraphics-archive

Azriel hears a twig snap, followed by a sweet, lovely gasp falling from Elain’s lush lips. Her arms tighten around his arm - where they’ve been wrapped around for at least twenty minutes now – and she presses her body further against his side in an attempt to keep still.

Not that he’s complaining. Every whiff of her scent - heady jasmine and sweet honey – nearly brings him to his knees and he has to keep reminding himself that he should be helping her, showing her what he had promised her.

“Do you think it’s close by?” She asks, eyes wide as they stare between the trees, the shadows of night concealing nearly everything.

But not the Cervus Nox – never the Night Court’s native deer.

“There it is.” He murmurs, not able to hide the wonder in his voice. He watches as the deer’s eyes pin him down as it tries to assess a threat. Azriel keeps still, refusing to scare it off before Elain gets a good look at it.

Elain inhales deeply, body nearly shaking with excitement (and he’d know since he can feel it trembling against his side) and he can’t blame her. The deer’s coat is a translucent white, as if painted to reflect moonlight itself; its antlers are wide and tall, onyx so dark they nearly blend into the night. Its eyes sparkle in the night, and Azriel is oddly reminded of his High Lord.

“It’s beautiful.” Elain whispers in awe, squeezing his arm in thanks as she beams up at him. Before he can dismiss her thanks – really, he was delighted to be the one showing her everything the Night Court had to offer – Elain was rising to the tips of her toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Azriel goes still, his brain scrambling to find something, anything to say. He clears his throat, aware that Elain is watching him carefully.

“Have you ever heard about the Night Daisies? They grow on a valley just south of the Illyrian Mountains."  He has never felt as thankful for the wildlife of the Night Court as he is tonight. "Perhaps we could try and go see them tomorrow night.” Azriel suggested, pretending the whole time he didn’t just want an excuse to spend more time near her.

Elain smiled softly, the majestic deer all but forgotten as she stared at Azriel instead. “I would love to.” She agreed promptly - pretending the whole time she didn’t have any Night Daises in her garden.

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

Happy birthday to my angel @tswaney17 💕

I’m sorry I haven’t had time to write you a full birthday fic with all the EM prep, but here’s a little drabble just for you. Love you endlessly 🤍

***

“I’m thirty Azriel. Thirty!”

Elain was sat up in bed, the covers pooled around her waist and hair adorably disheveled.

Azriel just gave her a flat look from the mattress besides her. Rolling onto his side, he crooked a muscled arm to rest his head in his hand.

“So you’ve been saying. And this is a problem, why?”

“Because it’s old!”

He chuckled. “If you think thirty is old, what does that make me?”

“That’s unfair. Men don’t age, they just get hotter,” she grumbled petulantly.

“From where I’m sitting, you’re still pretty fucking hot, Elain.”

Her chocolate brown eyes leveled him with a flat stare. “Not the point.”

She groaned, dramatically flopping back onto the mattress and pulling the quilt with her, burying her head beneath the covers.

Azriel laughed before diving under there with her, pulling the doona over their heads and turning in the sheets to face her. The sunshine from her bedroom window filtered through the covers, cocooning them in a fort awash with soft golden light. He brushed a strand of brown hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear.

“What’s really bothering you?” He prompted gently.

He knew Elain wasn’t vain, she wouldn’t be bothered simply because of aging. Something else had to be troubling her.

“I just don’t feel like I’ve really…lived. Fine, I have a decent job, and good friends, and you. But- what have I actually done?”

She felt…unaccomplished? Had she bought into the bullshit idea of needing to have your life together by now? Did she believe the lie that society had dictated thirty was the end of the line?

Thirty was just the beginning. You’ve somewhat found your place in the world and the true friends that will ride out life with you. You finally make enough money to do the things you love and still have the energy to do it. And you finally stop giving a fuck.

If only she knew how good it was about to fucking get.

“How can you say you’ve done nothing?” he replied gently, treading with care. Because although he knew those pressures were some grade A bullshit, he also knew women felt them more acutely than men.

“Look at all the people you make happy every single day just by existing. Look at all the lives you’ve touched simply by making it to thirty. You certainly can’t say that for everybody.”

Elain looked at him skeptically, but her face had softened, her expression turning contemplative.

He’ll let her mull on it for a while. He knew she needed to come to her own conclusions about things.

Azriel just ran a hand down her arm, reaching her fingers and tangling them with his own. He fiddled with a ring she wore on her index finger, tracing the small blue stone that sat embedded within the delicate golden threads of its design.

“Happy birthday, Elain.” It was a hushed murmur over the rumpled sheets between them.

Snuggling herself into his embrace, she pressed her face to his chest.

“Thanks, Az.”

[thisblogisaboutabook]

When the Lightsinger Calls (I Hear a Symphony)

An Azriel Drabble

Azriel daydreams of his mate -Inspired by ‘I Hear a Symphony’ by Cody Fry

I used to hear a simple song.

The warm winds of summer blew through the Illyrian mountains as Azriel sat sprawled on a thick branch fifty feet in the air, one leather covered leg dangling as the other stretched across the branch, his back resting against the trunk of an old Oak tree.

Cassian had been butting heads with Devlon for hours. Same shit, different day as they heatedly negotiated new terms for the training of Illyrian females. Devlon, of course, remained as stubborn as an ass. Even after decades of his bullshit, it never failed to chafe Azriel’s nerves that they were under the regime of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history yet had to make nice with stuck-in-their-ways pricks like him. Today in particular had left Azriel feeling less than giving.

Cassian booted Azriel out of negotiations in record time, which admittedly, was likely for the best. Azriel’s dominant stance, deadly gaze, and violent whirling shadows were not best suited for these futile attempts of “sweet talking” Devlon out of his deeply rooted misogyny. If Azriel had his way Truth Teller would do all the talking, but diplomacy unfortunately took precedence.

He may have put up more of a fight when storming out of the Camp Lord’s office had Cassian’s weapon of choice today not had a unique way of toeing that line between diplomacy and force in a way that even Truth Teller could not. No blood spillage necessary, though, Azriel thought with a smirk, the weapon could do just that as well.

The warmth of the suns rays shining through the rustling leaves and the scratch of bark lightly grazing the sensitive membranes of his wings - hitting those spots he could never quite reach - had Azriel drifting off into a light dream state.

As he began to doze, shadows hummed around him, the whistling breeze mixing in with their whirring as they sensed for any incoming threats.

Blending in with their simple song, the creek nearby babbled with the sounds of trickling water, crickets chirped beneath rocks below.

His thoughts became more vivid as his conscience drifted deeper into sleep.

His jaw ticked, wings jerking slightly as he dreamed glimpses of deep red coating his marred skin from the countless souls he’d drawn blood from, lifeless bodies scattered across bloody battlefields, dark cells, the bright flare of roaring fire scalding a child’s hands, his shadows melody becoming broken as they attempted to soothe their master.

The melody became lighter as the flame in his dreams became flashes of light, blurred glimpses of a lovely face appearing in and out of his dreams. A soft laugh intertwined itself with his shadows, the solemn hymn becoming lighter, with vibrant bursts of energy leaving his heart fluttering. More images of the ethereal face flickered through his mind, soft blush dusted cheeks, a radiant white smile, supple fingers tracing the muscles of his chest, plush lips on bare skin, all appearing to the beat of the rising staccato. His lips quirked upward in his sleep as his guard dropped lower and lower and the melody continued growing louder, building into the crescendo of the loveliest symphony he’d heard yet, even in Prythian’s most renowned concert halls.

The music filled Azriel’s entire being, leaving him light as shadow, his flaws forging themselves from ugly into something beautiful, something worthy, as the melody carried his soul toward the light.

Just as his body began to slump out of the tree a sing-song voice brighter than day awoke him. “Careful, Shadowsinger. One might think you’re sleeping on the job.”

He looked down to his beautiful mate, the face his dream had called him to. “My little Lightsinger, did you give Devlon hell?”

She beamed. “Worked a little on him. The girls get seven more hours per week and Cass or I can do spot checks whenever we please. I’ll push for more when we meet again in a few months.”

“That’s my girl.” His eyes shone with the pride filling his chest as he launched out of the tree and swept her off her feet.

“Let’s go home.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his nose. Azriel only blushed and did just as his lady said, the two falling into companionable silence as her light and his shadow mingled in harmony the entire flight back to Velaris.

And now I hear a symphony.

———————————————-

[theladyofdeath]

Nyx bonding with the bat boys

A/N: Anything that includes Nyx is a prompt I adore. This is how I imagine nights with uncle Az and uncle Cass to go. Thank you for your prompt! x Warnings: Language, overwhelming cuteness

"What's it about?"

"Bats."

"Bats like us? We're bats."

Cassian and Azriel shot each other a look over Nyx's head, who sat in between them on his bed.

"Who told you that?" Azriel asked, at last.

Nyx, at four, shrugged. "Auntie Nesta."

Cassian snorted but didn't dare correct him as he opened the book and began reading. "Alright. Bart the bat-"

"Who's Bart?"

"The bat," Cassian answered, before continuing. "Bart the bat liked to wear hats. His-"

"I'm hungry," Nyx said, sighing. "And thirsty. And I don't wanna go to bed."

Cassian and Azriel looked at one another again.

Rhysand and Feyre had winnowed to Adriata to take care of a few minor details of a newly founded treaty between the courts, leaving Azriel and Cassian at the manor with Nyx. Nesta and Elain had gone with them, along with Amren and Mor. At first, both Cassian and Azriel had protested, but it would be a peaceful meeting that held no threats. Beside, everyone who had gone could look after themselves, and someone had to watch Nyx.

So here they were.

"It's almost bedtime," Azriel began, slowly. "If you don't get to sleep, you'll be cranky tomorrow."

Nyx crossed his arms and frowned. "I will not. I'll be cranky if I don't eat."

"We just ate an hour ago," Cassian said, then tried to start the story again. "Bart-"

"Can I have cheese? I like cheese."

Azriel's sigh was one of the most dramatic sounds that Cassian had ever heard come out of his brother's mouth. He snapped the book shut and said, "Cheese, then bed."

"Cheese, then Bart the Bat."

Once again, Azriel and Cassian shared a look that said, This kid is a manipulative little shit.

"Fine, but you better be a fucking delight tomorrow, you hear me?" Cassian said, poking Nyx in the ribs, making him giggle.

"Yay!" Nyx jumped up on the bed and clapped his hands. "You have a yucky mouth, Uncle Cass. Mama says you should wash your mouth out with soap."

Azriel snorted as he pushed himself off the bed and threw Nyx over his shoulder. "He should, shouldn't he?"

"Auntie Nesta shouldn't kiss you with a yucky mouth," Nyx went on, his voice fading as Azriel carried him out of the room.

Cassian tossed the book aside and followed them through the halls, toward the kitchen. "Auntie Nesta likes my yucky mouth. Hers is yuckier."

He swore he heard Azriel mutter he's not wrong before turning into the kitchens. After setting Nyx on the counter, Azriel pulled out a block of cheese and began cutting off slices and handing them to Nyx.

"Can I have bread?" he asked, mouth full of cheese. "I like bread."

"Is there anything you don't like?" Cassian asked, sarcastically, taking a fresh loaf of bread off the counter.

Nyx thought about it for a moment as his uncles worked. "Turnips."

Azriel's lips quirked as Cassian let out a laugh. "Your parents make you eat turnips? That's just mean."

"I know!" Nyx threw his hands in the air. "They won't let me leave the table until they're all gone. Sometimes I hide them in my pockets so I don't have to eat them all."

Cassian stopped cutting the loaf of bread to narrow his eyes at Nyx. "You lie to your mama and papa?"

Nyx shrugged. "No. I just don't eat my turnips."

Azriel chuckled, sliding across a plate of cheese and setting the knife aside. "Turnips help you grow big and strong."

"I'm going to grow big and strong because I'm an Illyrian," Nyx said, mispronouncing the word Illyrian as he always did. "And I'm high fae. And a bat."

"And because you eat your turnips," Cassian said, snatching a piece of cheese and popping it into his mouth.

Behind him, Nyx's wings drooped. "But turnips are gross. They're only yummy at Auntie Elain's."

At the mention of Elain's name, Azriel's eyes softened. "Auntie Elain makes good turnips?"

Nyx nodded enthusiastically, snatching up a piece of bread. "Auntie Elain makes good everything. Every time I go to Auntie Lainy's, she lets me eat alllllllll the muffins I want!"

"She has pretty good muffins, doesn't she?" Azriel asked, smiling to himself.

Cassian lifted his brow. "Like Auntie Elain's muffins, uncle Azzie?"

Azriel shot Cassian a look. "Don't pervert Elain's muffins."

Nyx's brows scrunched together. "What does pervert mean?"

Both Cassian and Azriel's eyes shot to the kid. Azriel said, "It means...lazy."

Nyx frowned. "I don't understand."

"Lazy?" Cassian snorted. "Nice one."

Azriel nudged Cassian.

Cassian nudged Azriel back.

"Mama says it's not good to fight," Nyx said, kicking his feet from where he sat on the counter, stuffing his face with bread and cheese. "She says it's naughty."

"It's only naughty if you're four," Cassian said, stealing another piece of cheese, earning a glare from his nephew.

Nyx's eyes widened. "I can fight when I'm five?!"

"He's too smart," Azriel whispered. "Feyre's gonna kick your ass."

"Ass," Nyx repeated, with a giggle.

"No," Cassian corrected, "she's gonna kick your ass for teaching him words like ass."

"You've sworn so many times-"

"I want water," Nyx interrupted, jumping up on the counter.

"Alright, no standing on countertops," Cassian said, sweeping Nyx off the counter, into his arms. "And don't say naughty words."

Azriel filled a small glass with water and handed it to Nyx, who took two sips before deciding he was done. With a yawn, he handed his glass back to Azriel before laying his cheek on Cassian's shoulder. "Can we finish the bat story?"

"Sure, buddy," Cassian said, quietly. "Uncle Azzie, bring the cheese."

Azriel took the plate of cheese and bread, and followed Cassian and Nyx back down the hall to his bedroom. Once they got him tucked back beneath the covers, Cassian helped himself to the cheese and bread as Azriel opened the book.

"Okay," he began, clearing his throat. "Bart the bat liked to wear hats. His favorite hat was red-"

"I have to go potty."

Azriel slowly laid the book against his lap. "Alright. Go on."

Nyx slipped out of the blankets, hopped off the bed, and disappeared into the washroom.

"He's a handful," Azriel muttered, shaking his head. "He's perfect."

Cassian chuckled. "I love that Rhys is getting exactly what he gave to his poor mother. The menace."

Azriel grinned and they both took a beat of silence, thinking about Rhysand's mother, who helped them both become the men that they were now.

Nyx came back in, his pajama pants crooked. Azriel straightened them before Nyx climbed back under the blankets and settled himself.

"Okay," he said, yawning once more. "Bat."

Azriel opened the book, yet again, and started reading. "Bart the bat liked to wear hats. His favorite one was red and flat. He wore-“

"Uncle Azzie?"

Azriel looked down at Nyx, lying between he and Cassian. "Hmm?"

"Will you do the funny voices?"

Cassian grinned as Azriel took a deep breath. "Of course." He started again, coming up with his own voice for Bart the bat. "Bart the bat liked to wear hats. His favorite one was red and flat. He wore his hat with his best friend, Pat, who was a cat-"

"I want a cat," Nyx said, his eyes drifting shut. "A black cat. Named Pat."

"That sounds nice, buddy," Cassian said, with a yawn of his own.

Azriel continued. "He wore his hat with his best friend, Pat, who was a cat that sold hats. Bart got all of his hats from Pat. He-"

"Do you have any hats?" Nyx asked, with his eyes closed.

"Everyone has hats," Cassian assured him.

"I don't have a hat." Nyx frowned. "But I have cheese."

"Cheese is much better than hats," Azriel promised, returning to the book. "He-"

"Uncle Azzie," Nyx began, snuggling up between the two of them, "why are there always shadows around you?"

Cassian's eyes darted to Azriel, who slowly shut the book. "Well," Azriel began, unsure of how to answer. He had never had anyone ask him about his shadows, much less a child. "The shadows are my friends. They stay close to me...to protect me."

Nyx, eyes still closed, sighed contentedly. "I like your shadows."

Azriel smiled warmly as he brushed the hair out of Nyx's eyes. "They don't scare you?"

Nyx shook his head, burying himself deeper into his blankets. "No. They make me happy."

Cassian watched but didn't say a word as Azriel smiled. "I'm glad to hear that, buddy. Thank you."

Nyx reached up to take Azriel's hand but said no more as his breathing shallowed, then turned even. Cassian watched the child as he sank into the mattress, only speaking when he was certain that Nyx had fallen asleep.

"So," he said, quietly, "what the fuck happens to Bart the bat?"

Azriel laughed and shrugged. "Apparently he likes hats, and his best friend is a cat."

"Lucky bastard," Cassian said, eyes slowly shutting.

Azriel shook his head, setting the book on Nyx's bedside table. They said no more as they drifted off into dreamland, two Illyrian warriors on each side of the heir of the Night Court.

It was exactly how Rhysand found them once he returned, just after midnight, snuggled up together with a plate of cheese and bread. His son, his heir, well protected and happy, blissfully asleep and well loved.

[gothicbabydollz]

thoughts on Az being into booty play/butt stuff

:)

Azriel has you on his lap. Chest to chest. Long, thick cock buried and throbbing inside you. You’re riding him. Chest to chest. Hips rocking back and forth, working yourself towards a sweet orgasm. Azriel watches you with lust in his gaze. Your lips are parted, brows furrowed as you let the pleasure take control. And your little moans and gasping breaths are music to Azriel’s ears. His hands are gripping your backside. Helping you grind atop him and swatting occasionally to feel you tighten around his cock. And of course, he gets a little adventurous. His fingers wander and soon enough he’s teasing and circling your tight rim of muscles. The moan you released was one of the most erotic sounds Azriel has ever heard. You weren’t expecting it to feel so good, paired with his cock rubbing against your sensitive inner walls, your mind is clouded with euphoria. “Does that feel good, bunny? Yeah? Want more? Tell me.”

You do, nodding and blabbering that you want to feel more. So, Azriel collects your slick on his fingers, rubbing you a little longer before he’s pressing his middle finger into you. Whining, you hide your face into Azriel’s neck, almost ashamed to admit his finger pumping in and out of your tight hole feels so good. But you like it, having both of your holes filled. It’s overwhelming. You can feel your climax drawing closer. Azriel begins to meet each grind of your hips with ruts of his own, forcing his cock that little bit deeper. All while his fingers explores your smaller hole, thrusting into the knuckle. “Fuck, you like that, don’t you? Do you feel full? You like having both of your little holes stuffed, huh? Gods, you’re so tight, bunny. So fucking tight.” You continue to whine against his neck, arms locked around him, clutching onto him for dear life. Your movements become sloppy, but Azriel’s there, helping you to fuck yourself on him as you chase your high. He can feel your hole clenching around him- both of your holes. And the feeling causes him to groan, head falling limp against his shoulders. “That’s it, bunny. Cum for me…”

[elliemarchetti]

Rotten Petals, Rotten Feelings

Sad Elriel drabble for my alphabet of flowers prompt list.

Modern AU, modern proof reading (which is none).

Part 2 if you're interested in Gwyn's POV

Prompt: Magnolia – Dignity

Words:685

Elain couldn't stop looking at the photo Feyre had sent her. It had been taken the previous evening, at Rita's. Elain hadn't wanted to join the outing organized by Cassian for his birthday, and not because she didn't love her sister's boyfriend, but because she didn't want to see Azriel. What had happened between them wasn’t a situationship, but it couldn’t even be called a simple friendship. They had kissed at the Christmas party, hidden in a corridor whose lights had remained off the whole evening. They had exchanged meaningful gifts in secret, away from prying eyes, and months of sexual tension had finally resulted in a kiss under the mistletoe. They had parted only when they heard approaching footsteps, and though they had been quick to go their separate ways, Elain was certain that Rhysand had caught them. For days she had been waiting for him to call, or at least text – he had her number, after all – but he never did, nor did he seem in the mood to broach the issue the next time they met. It had taken weeks before she’d found him alone, and he’d been quick to tell her he couldn’t give her what she wanted, even thought Elain never told him what she actually expected. So, with a cold and calculated sentence, whatever had blossomed between them had died in the bud, like flowers bloomed too early on a particularly warm winter day and caught off guard by the following frost.

It's all over now, she told herself when the weather started to get warmer, and her friends returned from their respective expensive holidays. By the time spring arrived, she was sure she no longer had any feelings for the elusive and mysterious guy who had stolen her heart during a snowy day.

It was just a stupid crush, it's normal to have those at twenty-three, she reminded herself when her beautiful garden began to paint the view from her room with the colours of the rainbow. She had believed it, she had felt healed, until Feyre had sent her that photo. She knew her sister hadn’t done it in bad faith. It was among many others, one of the usual reports she did when someone couldn’t attend this or that event. Only this time Azriel, who usually shied away from the camera, was featured in one of the shots, along with a red-haired beauty. The lucky stranger looked like a model, her cerulean off-the-shoulder dress something Elain would never have thought of wearing. It wasn’t overly revealing per se, but it seemed too sexy to be worn in public, more like a sleeved slip than an actual item of clothing. Her long, lean legs, so athletic they removed any doubt about her gym-goer routine, were accentuated by tight vintage boots, and every inch of exposed skin was covered in adorable freckles. Her manicured hands were resting on Azriel’s broad shoulders, halfway between the biceps and the deltoids, and their lips were united in a passionate kiss, decidedly more sensual than the one he and Elain had exchanged.

He's over me, was the first thought that crossed her mind when she saw the proof, but now she was spiralling into more self-deprecating ideas.

“I wasn’t enough,” she murmured, as she sat in the shade of her blooming magnolia. The petals of the flowers on the branches were beautiful, silky, fading from a deep pink at the base to the purest white at the tips, but the ones on the ground, the ones surrounding her, had already started to rot, an eyesore in contrast with the green and healthy grass.

In a fit of anger, or perhaps of newfound dignity, she deleted the photo along with all the others of Azriel she still had on her phone. There was no point in pining over someone who had dismissed her so quickly. For good measure, she also unfollowed him on social media, and deleted his number, to avoid asking for an explanation there really wasn’t any need for. He didn’t want her, and that should’ve been enough to move on.

[duskandcobalt]

ya’ll think I can keep this under 5k words? I’m still writing the build up l o l

[philemal]

Chapters: 7/40 Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas, ACOTAR Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Elain Archeron/Azriel Characters: Elain Archeron, Feyre Archeron, Nesta Archeron, Azriel, Rhysand, Cassian, Lucien Vanserra, Amren, Ianthe, Morrigan Additional Tags: witch academy, Demon Summoning, Sister Dynamics, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Smut, Angst, Fluff and Angst, seer elain, Feyre can bring inanimate objects to life, Nesta has silver flames (of course), Elriel is main focus of this work but I intend to bring other bat boys in, I intend to also add more tags as the story continues, Slow Burn, Regency Era, Horror, Elain Archeron & Lucien Vanserra - Freeform Summary:

Amren sat up. She set the succulent down on the table and set two fingers on the rim, giving it a shove. It slid to Elain’s bag and stopped. “A third year student stumbles in covered in soot to read beginner books on ley lines.” She repeated. “She then asks me about summoning a demon.” Amren leaned on her crossed arms, her brows wiggling in delight.

Elain’s face paled. She felt foolish, then - for being so open, for being so readable. Her fingers trailed down the page of her book. “You think I’m interested.”

Amren regarded Elain with a tilt of her head. “I know you are.” Her ring glinted in the light. Elain swallowed thickly.

“And if I were?” Elain dared.

[tadpolesonalgae]

Mix ‘n’ Match

A/N: This section is definitely going to be expanded upon so I thought I might as well make a masterlist for it :)

Side note: I guess you could call these poly!fics? They’re pretty enjoyable to write, so I’ll be steadily adding to this! Feel free to request a pairing at any time!

Beg For It[***] (Dark!Feysand x reader)

Punishment[*] (Nessian x reader Drabble)

Blossom[*] (Elriel x reader)

Tag, You’re It[***] -Part 2[***]- (Dark!Feysand x reader)

Big, Bad Wolf[*] (Amarantha x f!reader x Rhysand)

Blue Flower, Red Thorns[*] (Viviane x f!reader x Mor)

Drunken Mistakes[*] (Feysand x reader)

Drunken Promises[***] (Dark!Feysand x reader)

Drunken Confessions[***] (Dark!Feysand x reader)

Persuasion[*] (Amarantha x f!reader x human!Feyre)

Pleasure over Morals[***] (Dark!Poly!Batboys x reader)

Girls Night (Feysand x reader)

Good Things Come In Threes -Part 2[*]- (Nessian x reader)

Puttin’ On The Ritz[*] (Az x reader x Cass)

Bloodied Wedding Bonds[***] (Dark!Feysand x reader)

Take A Hit[*] (Feysand x reader)

Mercy, Devil -Part 2- (vampire-poly!batboys x reader)

Crimson Delights[*] (Amarantha x f!reader x Rhysand)

All Wrapped in One[*] (Feysand x reader)

Pretty Flower Garden[*] (Mor x reader x Elain)

before the corn grows. (Batboys x depressive!reader)

[slytherhys]

Per your open drabble request for Elriel i present to you this sinworthy sentence which you can choose to ignore if you wish:

The last thing Azriel expected at 6:05 in the morning was for Elain to be preparing pastry naked, but....

I am absolutely not ignoring this. Enjoy 🤭

Elriel Month Drabble 2 - Sweet Dreams

The last thing Azriel expected to find in his kitchen at six in the morning was a flour-speckled Elain, mixing cinnamon and milk into a container while humming peacefully.

He blinked. Blinked again, wondering if he was still lying in bed, dead asleep and having the sweetest fucking dream he’d ever had the pleasure of having.

Because Elain was very, very naked.

Standing in his kitchen, the colours of dawn painting her skin, she was temptation personified, a wicked goddess sent to bring him to his knees. Azriel nearly groaned, watching her delicious curves as she kept to her task, completely oblivious to him watching her. She bit her lip, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and it was it took for him to stop pretending he had any self-restraint when it came to her.

He saw the moment she became aware of his presence – her shoulders lowering, goosebumps covering her soft skin. She barely startled when he pressed himself against her back, one scarred hand going to the dip of her waist, the other pulling away the curtain of hair hiding her from his view. He felt her relax against his hold, sighing contently when he dropped a kiss to her shoulder; then one to her neck, her jaw, her cheek.  

“You’re leaving, already?” She asked, a bit breathless.

“Fuck no.” He muttered against her cheek. “Not even Rhys could make me leave this house without having a taste of this.”

“Oh,” She chuckled softly. “These still need to go in the oven.” She was panting, squirming against his hold. He squeezed her hip in warning.

“I’m not talking about the pastries, Elain.” He rasped. “Now be a good girl and bend over the counter.”

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

show me how you love me

elriel month prompt two: language of love

The light brush of fingers, a gentle reminder to say I’m here. A quiet afternoon of tea and reports, the buttery spring sun warming muscled wings and freckled cheeks. Irises of striking hazel and stunning brown connecting across a crowded room, churning with undisclosed passion and secret mirth. Rambling monologues of stories from Velaris, elderly citizens playing matchmaker whilst being assisted in their gardens, not knowing the lady is besotted with another. Returning from missions and seeking the other out, purely to grant their heart confirmation their lover is safe. Little notes left on dressing tables, on mirrors, in pockets, between pages of favoured books; in the hopes the other will happen upon them when feelings of loneliness may have crept in. A single red rose carefully placed atop a pile of worn gardening tools. A pink camellia, so at odds in its surroundings, awaiting its receiver tucked amongst dutifully folded leathers. Rainy afternoons in the Townhouse kitchen, golden brown and alabaster hands dusted with flour. Trialling new recipes for breads and tarts and pies, laughter wafting through the empty, rose-lined halls. Sly shadows caressing a creamy neck. Pastel gauzy skirts grazing scarred fingers. Little gifts wrapped in brown paper to say I thought of you, this reminded me of you, you mentioned this once; I love you I love you I love you. Serene strolls along the Sidra at dusk, the glittering waters reflected in two pairs of lustful eyes. Fresh tea left steaming on a nightstand in the early morning. An encouraging smile during family dinners; a silent aide-mémoire that simply reads I’m on your side. Unwavering attention during long conversations; I see you; I hear you. Private Solstice encounters once the house has fallen quiet, stolen moments reserved for just the two of them to bear witness to, safely cloistered in soothing darkness. Strong arms hauling bundles of pruned branches in the autumn. Delicate hands rubbing fragrant oils into tired muscles. Hours of whispered wishes and shared dreams, two bodies leaning into each other long into the night. Not destined, not fated, but chosen. Everyday, with every little interaction, they are reminding the other I choose you, despite all the obstacles. I choose you, and you are worth it. It makes their love all the sweeter.

EM tag list:

@waternymphia

@shedoessoshedoes

@nightcourtseer

@tealeaves-and-rosepetals

@jasmineandshadows

@zdenkah

@dottielovegood

@casuallivi

@azrielslight

@ultadverb

@tswaney17

@batboyazriel

@duskwhisperer

@thoughtsaboutshows

@mardereads19

@a-frog-with-a-laptop

@123moiaussi

@reverie-tales

@britishwings

@glasscupsss

@gracie-rosee

@massiveattackangel

@thesistersarcheron

@dreamsandwings

@shadowflorecita

@elainsweetcobalt

@demarogue

@lesolehabitantdelalune

@elrielbaby

@happy-go-lucky-fangirl

@nivem565

@broodybatboy

@edanmaia

@booksnightowl

@saz-griffin

@elriel-month

[neteyamyawne]

🪷 — After-chase

୭ ˚. Pairing : RDA!avatar!Jake x Avatar!fem!reader

୭ ˚. summary : after the Thanator chase, both of you needed a blow off and what's better than to experiment what your new bodies can do, in the middle of the forest?

୭ ˚. Warning : Blowjob, alien genitalia, cock sucking, taking turns, little edging, oral (M receiving)

୭ ˚. Note : @blue-slxt baby your post was just too tempting to leave it as it is, it's just a drabble but i might write more once I get my laptop.

The smell of damp soil filled your nose as your tongue swirled on the pretty pink tip of his cock leaking beads of bioluminescent precum on your tongue, the night was alive and being lost and away from the lab, it was the perfect chance to see what your avatar bodies can do…together.

He had himself propped up on one elbow, his t-shirt torn and ripped in places and so was yours after the Thanator chase, which was one of the reason for have enough adrenaline to even try this out, the forest alive and glowing in the dark night while his hand was tangled in your dark locks, eyes hooded, trousers down enough to get the job done, yours was already thrown somewhere in the heat of the moment, his lips parted and fangs on display, the perfect image of lust and desire.

your head bobbed up and down on his length, 12 inches down in your throat, your throat muscles tightening and gagging around him, but your haze filled mind took no notice to it, the sweet trickle of your saliva coating his cock and your chin in a perfect layer of sheen, eyes rolling back as a loud groan left his lips, his fangs making another appearance as he bites his lower lip, cock twitching in your mouth as you still continued to peak his orgasm, prolong it as long as you can, his grip tightening on your hair as he pushed your head down to take him deeper.

your groans of protest muffled by his twitching cock deep in your throat, your hands on his thighs, holding him for dear life "Fuck y/n- agh, you better swallow, you little slut" he said looking down at you in between his thighs, head still bobbing on his cock, his voice breathy, chest heaving, eyes half lidded, the never leaving smirk on his face widening at you gagging state, with a few more bobs of your head, up & down with the tip of your tongue now pressed on his slit, only the head of his cock in between your lips, a little pressure from your own fangs on his aroused flesh was inching him towards his abyss.

the lipgloss you previously applied was now mixed with his precum and your saliva, leaving his cock glistening wet, with a Heavy groan from him, he pushed your head down on him again, your muffled cries went unheard as he bucked his hips thrusting in a little as he shot the load down your throat, head thrown back, lips apart and panting heavily trying to catch his breath, his grip on your hair loosening as he slumped down on the forest floor, swallowing every single drop of his warm drizzle of cum, you sat up still on your knees, a trail of milky white line dripped down your chin mixing with the saliva already present, when he tugged on your hand, making you get on top of him before sliding down even more so he was directly facing your wet pussy, already dripping "my turn, sweetheart, now sit down babygirl…." He whispered against your wet lips with his tongue lolling out.

A/n : i couldn't help myself to wait till my laptop was here , i had to write that down, I'm feral for RDA Jake!

Yawne : @fanboyluvr, @callmeoncette, @lu-the-ghost-reader, @brisbriskett, @saltedcoffeescotch, @ducks118, @itscheybaby, @jackiehollanderr, @elriel-4-ever, @zoetrope1997, @yeosxxx, @persefolli, @im-in-a-pansexual-panik, @teyamsbitch, @elijangwifey, @erosthefae, @murderbirbdany, @thearabloak06, @killua2dot0, @ilovechickenwings, @kylobensgirl, @darling-imobsessed, @majathepapaya, @sweetirilly.

©Neteyamyawne2023 | All Rights Reserved. Do not repost on other platforms, copy, steal, or translate any of my works!

[theladyofdeath]

Elriel: Azriel comes home from a long mission to find elain dancing and singing while cleaning

A/N: Thank you for the prompt! I love me some Elriel. Also, it took everything in me not to put a Mrs. Doubftire vacuuming gif here...lol. I hope you enjoy this sweet little fluff! Warnings: None

Azriel was familiar with exhaustion but it didn't make it any easier. Struggling to keep his eyes open, Azriel landed on the grass outside of his townhouse with a yawn. He'd flown for hours after leading an interrogation that would make the strongest of warriors weary, and every ounce of strength he had left was wavering.

For a moment, he did nothing but stand in the grass, trying to find his bearings. Once he decided that he wouldn't fall over, he put one dusty boot in front of the other and made his way to the front door.

It was quite humorous. A giant Illyrian warrior, clad in worn leathers, walking across the bright green lawn while covered in blood and dirt...It looked like chaos walking through a joyful painting. Azriel felt out of place.

He'd always felt a little out of place, though. This was nothing new. He seemed to always be a blight of darkness in the midst of a brighter world, it was a feeling he'd gotten used to.

The front steps squeaked as he walked up them, each wooden floorboard creaking under his weight. He'd had them for at least fifty years. It was probably time that they were replaced.

He raised his hand to twist the knob but froze, and a smile soon twisted his tired lips. The sweetest, most melodic sound filled the house and greeted him at the threshold. Elain was not one for singing - at least, not when anyone was present. But, her voice was soft, gentle, soothing. She was singing an old folk tale, and although it was of the human lands, Azriel knew bits and pieces of it.

As quietly as possible, he twisted the knob and walked inside.

Elain was in the corner of the foyer, dusting an end table that held a vase full of flowers, singing without a care in the world. As she sang, her body swayed, and just when she twirled, she caught sight of Azriel.

And screamed.

The scream was abrupt but very much warranted considering there was a filthy Illyrian warrior standing unexpectedly at the threshold.

"Why'd you stop?" Azriel asked, after a second while Elain caught her breath. "I was enjoying the show."

Her startled expression soon turned to one of joy. Elain dropped the feather duster and hurried across the vast space between them and threw herself into Azriel's arms - dirt and blood be damned.

Azriel held her close and breathed her in, forgetting everything he had just endured. After months apart and endless nights spent wishing he was at home with her, he had a sudden sense of wholeness.

When Elain leaned back, her eyes were misty. "I've missed you. I wasn't expecting you home yet."

"Is that why you're running around the house cleaning, dancing, and singing in one of my tunics?" he asked slyly.

Elain's cheeks darkened. "Perhaps."

"Don't stop on my account," he mumbled, and kissed her slowly. The kiss was comforting, and although passionate, it was a simple reminder that they had missed one another in Azriel's absence. It felt like coming home.

"Can I draw you a bath?" Elain whispered, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Only if you'll join me," he replied, and although Elain's cheeks reddened once more, she pulled his hand until the front door was closed and they were making their way up the stairs.

They wouldn't come back downstairs for the rest of the night, leaving the feather duster where it laid tiredly on the tile.

[withclawandvine]

happy @elriel-month besties! here’s a little drabble inspired by this part of the prompt description for today: “…imagine all the ways in which elain and azriel hide their ever-growing love from others.” 

i’m sure there’s a lot of thought that goes into covering your tracks when you’re dealing with fae senses. 

title: leave no trace behind, like you don’t even exist

wc: 1.3k • warnings: none • read on ao3 here!

Azriel stirred awake the moment he felt Elain shift under him. Predawn light filtered through the sheer panels hanging in front of Elain’s bedroom window, faint enough that it could be easily ignored, if he closed his eyes again. It was tempting. 

But they’d already pushed this part back farther than was wise — the part where they said their goodbyes, then spent the next few days in lonely beds, on fresh sheets, like any other time Vanserra was expected in the city. A routine that was only getting more difficult with time. 

Gentle fingers combed through Azriel’s mussed hair, and the shiver that buzzed down his spine had him curling further into Elain, nestling his face into the softness of her stomach and tightening his hold on her waist. He sighed, feeling like an overgrown housecat, lazy and spoiled by affection.

The fingers in his hair slid down his face to rest under his chin. Azriel let his head be nudged upright until he was blinking blearily up at Elain. Her eyes were bright, no signs of the sleepiness he was barely fighting off, and the smile pulling at the corner of her mouth was fond. 

“Good morning, love,” she murmured. 

Azriel didn’t return the greeting, partly because he didn’t have the chance before Elain had curled in on herself until she was brushing her lips against his, and partly because he had little faith in his ability to say the words and even sound like he meant them. 

He knew that was the exact sort of thing that had earned him all the teasing from his family for being broody — present company included — but Elain didn’t call him out on it. She didn’t say anything as she wiggled out from under him, lingering only for the moment it took to kiss his brow. 

With his face now half-buried in the warm spot she’d left behind, Azriel watched Elain pluck the top sheet from where it lay crumpled at the foot of the bed and drape it over her shoulders as she made her way to the big window overlooking her side of the bed. Despite the early morning chill, she threw it wide open, letting the breeze carry in the scent of dew and salt. 

She ricocheted from window to window without looking at him, moving with a businesslike air unbefitting of someone wearing a wrinkled bedsheet as a cloak. 

Azriel should follow her lead and take off through one of those freshly-opened exits, heed the call of the wind. But Elain’s way of shielding anything ugly or painful behind armor of indifference was beyond his grasp. Everything about Azriel — his love and his loathing, the misery and hope and rage — stalked under his skin, always ready to claw their way out.

He could refuse to talk about certain things, but he could never quite keep them hidden. Especially from Elain, who had a certain knack for recognizing his quirks and habits, as well as teasing out the thoughts and memories that had spawned them. 

After centuries of yanking truths out of traitor’s mouths like teeth — and, on some occasions, extracting both, because it was hard to lie through a mouth full of blood — getting Elain to open up had required a gentleness Azriel wasn’t sure sure he still possessed until it happened.

Until he woke up one morning and realized Elain Archeron was no longer a mystery to him; she’d shown him her scars and the places she went to hide from her sisters. He knew that she still feared her gifts and felt guilty for never mourning her mother the way she did her father. Her favorite color was lavender and she took her tea with honey, not sugar, and a splash of cream so small it seemed negligible. 

But Elain insisted she could taste it, so Azriel stirred it in dutifully and carefully, mindful of the delicate cup. He stuck the spoon in his mouth and nodded to himself, satisfied, then followed the whisps of jasmine- and honeysuckle-scented steam seeping out from the gap under the bathroom door, and swirling in the open air of the bedroom, enticing his shadows to dance with them. 

Elain had one foot in the bathtub when Azriel let himself in. 

She glanced over her shoulder at him, a hint of surprise breaking through the distant look in her eyes. “I thought you left.” 

“I am, but…” he nodded to the teacup.  

Her shoulders sagged, all of the prim rigidity seeping out of her. She was, he realized, letting him see her — not just her body, but the dolor she’d been trying to protect him from. That she was trying not to feel herself. 

Azriel held out his free hand for Elain. Her fingers wrapped lightly around his open palm, holding on as she sank into the frothy water, and didn’t let go until he handed her the drink. With both hands cupped around the mug, she brought it to her face and inhaled the sweet aroma. 

Azriel stepped back, feet heavy with reluctance. 

“You can —” 

“I should —” 

Stay. 

Go. 

But both sentences remained unfinished; there was neither an invitation nor a dismissal. Azriel was caught in the doorway like the breath in his throat; proper sunlight was finally making its way inside, casting Elain in a divine glow. Worshipful eyes devoured the sight glistening skin, the stretch of her leg when she scrubbed her feet, the rivulets of water racing down her spine. 

Elain stopped to drink some of her tea, peering at him from behind the rim of the teacup with dusky cheeks that said she knew he’d been staring. He wanted to do so much more than look. Any other day, he could climb in behind her, be the one to run a soapy cloth over her back, her wrists, and her throat — the places her body was the warmest and would project his scent with every heartbeat. Places he’d traced with his tongue and teeth.

Azriel hadn’t realized he was drifting back toward her until his knees hit the copper ledge of the bathtub. 

Reaching for her now all but defeated the point of the bath, the stripped bed, and the open windows. But her hair was still dry and sleep-wild, so Azriel let his fingers weave through it, cradle the back of her head with his palm. He bent down to kiss the top of her head, breathing in the lingering traces of earth and afternoon sun, braided with his own scent.

Elain might not have been his mate, but there was still something inside him, deep and primordial, that ached at the idea of her rinsing it away. That dreaded having to go home and do the same.

She tilted her head back, glancing up at him. And she must not have liked whatever was lurking in his eyes, because her brow crumpled, even as she tried to smile. 

“It’s just a week,” she said, more to herself, Azriel thought, but he nodded anyway. There were remaining days before Vanserra’s arrival, and then the two nights he was expected to stay. 

“Not even enough time to miss me.” 

His light, affectionate pinch of her cheek coaxed a genuine grin out of her, even as she chided, “I thought you promised to stop underestimating me.” 

It would perhaps be more accurate to say that Azriel underestimated himself, that he was somebody worth missing.  

Of course, he’d never voice such a thought — another one of those things he refused to talk about. But it didn’t matter, because Elain knew anyway. She guided his hand from her cheek to her lips.

“I love you,” she promised, punctuating the words with a kiss to his knuckles, and Azriel closed his eyes, imagining the day he wouldn’t have to wash his hands of it.

[elliemarchetti]

Like Perfume You Wear, I Linger

Drabble inspired by Olivia Rodrigo’s songs obsessed (stream it because it’s good and the MV is funny) and lacy.

Part 2 of Rotten Petals, Rotten Feelings but you don't really need to read it to understand this. Gwyn's POV because in the end, it’s always the girls that suffers when a man is emotionally unavailable.

Words: 656

Gwyn was aware her obsession was unhealthy. She was ashamed to admit how much she thought about that girl she never even met, and she felt guilty in knowing so many personal and useless things concerning her person. She couldn’t stop though, every new, futile detail like a drug. By now, she had found out her star sign and her blood type, she had seen every movie she had starred in, staring at her impeccable and smart characters like she wanted to get hurt, and visited a couple places she had been to.

If she told anyone without providing context, they would think she was enamoured. She even read the books she cited in her captions on Instagram, but she never dared to hit follow, because she was her boyfriend’s ex something. They had never been together, they had only kissed once, but they had slept in the same bed, so she was sure he was, at some point, in love. If she had been a man, or if she had been into girls, she probably would have too: Elain Archeron was a talented, dazzling starlet, with eyes as pretty as the daisies she cultivated, lips plump like ripe cherries, and hips as sexy as Brigitte Bardot’s. Gwyn had tried to rationalize, to tell herself she was just a person and not a goddess made of angel dust that descended on the Hell they called Earth just to get on her nerves, but she failed, and her rotten mind loathed her because she seemed the greatest thing to ever exist.

She despised her jealous eyes and how hard they fell for her, but she had come up with a code name to talk about her with her best friend nonetheless, in case Azriel accidentally stumbled into one of their chats. Lacy, or as Emerie liked to say, Lacy skin-like-puff-pastry. The poor girl didn’t deserve all this bitterness – she even spoke kindly of her, her compliments like bullets on Gwyn’s skin. She knew she was butthurt only because she didn’t deserve her sweetness, and it was all her unresolved issues’ fault, but she could swear she still felt the ghost of her body when she was sleeping in Azriel’s bed, and every time he called her name in the morning, she held her breath, fearing to hear the one of his previous lover.

Truth be told, everyone described her boyfriend as uncharacteristically besotted, and knowing they had both moved on and they surprisingly didn’t talk anymore, she should’ve stopped worrying, but they also kept repeating how Elain was the life of every fucking party, and they kept remarking how easy-going and never controlling she was, and it was inevitable that she was still friend with his friends – two of them were with her sisters – but their chatter unknowingly made her upset and unable to get over it.

“Do you ever think about her?” she had asked one night, on the way home, to her unassuming boyfriend. Azriel had taken a fraction of a second too long to answer, and Gwyn, stomach all in knots, had quickly told him that it was fine if that was the case, that she didn’t care, but the reality was she wanted to know everything, if he regretted never having pushed the relationship further, if he ever imagined a future with her, whether he had idealized what they had and if she would ever be enough. It was taking over her life, and she started to see her beautiful enemy wherever she went, the sweetest torture she could bear. “You’re losing it,” her sister had told her one day, when she had found her stalking her TikTok page for the umpteenth time. Maybe it was true, but she once had the only thing she wanted, and even if it was Gwyn and not Elain who was Azriel’s girlfriend now, something told her he had left her a piece of his heart forever.

[mrs-illyrian-baby]

October's reading list ( a little late!)

Please read each fic's warnings before reading.

If you enjoyed a fic please reblog and comment to feed a hungry writer!

🔥 = smut

Azriel

Whispers in the Dark by @readychilledwine 🔥

Bat Boys

7 Minutes in Heaven by @honeybeefae 🔥

Bucky Barnes

All The Apple Cider and No More Haunted Houses by @witchywithwhiskey 🔥

An Old Fashioned Notion of Wartime and Whisky by @rookthorne 🔥

Aren't You Glad You Read the Latin by @witchywithwhiskey 🔥

Biker Sex by @1-800-jjbarnes 🔥

Chain Round My Neck by @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky

Depths of Pleasure by @rookthorne 🔥

May I by @notyetneedcoffee 🔥

Omegaverse by @honeybloomss 🔥

Party Games by @ramp-it-up 🔥

Play Pretend by @rookthorne 🔥

Pure Relaxation by @1-800-jjbarnes 🔥

Scary Stories and a Little Something More by @witchywithwhiskey 🔥

Bucky X Thor

Hair Tie Drabble by @linesfromthepocket

Cassian

Size Kink by @jeannineee

Thigh Riding by @azsazz 🔥

Unraveling by @shadowdaddies

Cassian x Azriel x Reader

You Look So Pretty All Tied Up For Me by @acourtofwhatthefuck 🔥

Elriel

Stargirl by @duskandcobalt (part 2) 🔥

Feysand

Eating Out (Feysand X Reader) @lovelyladyabsinthewrites 🔥

Sunday Morning (Feysand X Reader) by @whisperingmidnights 🔥

Frank Castle

Innocence & Praise Kink by @fluffyprettykitty 🔥

Henry x Alex (RWRB)

Miss You Like Crazy by @late-to-the-party-81 🔥

Jake Jensen

Yenzy x Broozy by @drabblewithfrannybarnes

Joaquín Torres

This feelin' is reckless of knowin' it's selfish by @tom-whore-dleston 🔥

Loki

A Gift for Loki by @november-rayne 🔥

An Offering by @lokisgoodgirl 🔥

Awful Things by @lokisgoodgirl 🔥

Burned by @sarahscribbles 🔥

Call You Mine by @sarahscribbles 🔥

Heavy Petting by @wheredafandomat 🔥

I'm Fine by @ladychota

My Loki by @wheredafandomat 🔥

Purple and Red by @ sarahscribbles 🔥

Somnophilia by @sarahscribbles 🔥

The Lakes by @lokisgoodgirl

Transgressions by @lokischambermaid

You Built Me Castles Out of Paragraphs by @softforloki

Nessian

Humiliation by @sweetcarolina-24 (Nessian X Reader) 🔥

Pool Sex by @moodymelanist 🔥

Rhysand

Calm & Bright by @shadowdaddies

Daddy Kink by @jeannineee 🔥

Hide and Seek by @shadowdaddies 🔥

Sweater Weather by @ shadowdaddies

Voyerism by @jeannineee 🔥

Ruhn Danaan

Catch Me If You Can by @azsazz 🔥

Quality Entertainment by @ shadowdaddies 🔥

Sensitive by @callmeblaire 🔥

Steve Rogers

Screaming In A Haunted Corn Maze by @witchywithwhiskey 🔥

Stucky

Sensual Deprivation by @lunarbuck 🔥

Special Girl by @rookthorne

Stucky X Reader

Backstage Pass by @luxeavenger 🔥