#azrial

[tswaney17]

Wildest Dreams

@elriel-month | Choice

You know it's not a true Elriel Month if Azriel isn't just simping over Elain. This one is all fluff. Hope you enjoy it! 🌹🦇

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: Nothing but domestic fluff

Word Count: 1,230

This fic will be posted on AO3 only. Read the beginning below or click here to head to AO3.

Azriel landed on the front steps of his and Elain’s home, his boots cushioning the impact from the stone pathway. They had bought and rebuilt this home about a year after their mating and wedding ceremony, wanting a space to call their own. Though Rhys had gifted them the townhouse as a mating present—and an apology for keeping them apart once they realized the bond between Elain and Lucien had been nothing more than a spell from a corrupted Cauldron—they wanted to find something that was truly their own. Away from the bustle of the city and in a quiet neighborhood.

Nobody could argue that they enjoyed their peace and quiet.

He had been pulled away after Rhys’s unrelented pestering over some reports and the only reason he finally gave in was because Koschei was still at large and Azriel would stop at nothing to protect those he loved.

But that didn’t stop the ache in his chest from just how much he missed his girls.

Girls. Plural. As in more than one.

Read More

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved most of my fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Taglist: 

@nikethestatue

@reverie-tales

@123moiaussi

@duskwhisperer

@zdenkah

@nyxreads

@shedoessoshedoes

@athena-85

@jasmineandshadows

@nightcourtseer

@nivem565

@debramclaren

@illyrianvalkyriecarynthian

@secretpuppyflower

@justreallybored

@ultadverb

@the-regal-warrior

@roseandshadows

@tcursebreaker

@kingravinger

@mis-lil-red

@eloeloeheheh

@fawnandshadows

@swankii-art-teacher

@miss-bee-cat

@bookhhrelaz

@impossiblescissorspeachpaper

@elrielbaby

@lesolehabitantdelalune

@thoughtsaboutshows

@britishwings

@aelin21galathynius

@saz-griffin

@azrielslight

@bookstaninthesoul

@curiositywoman

@karsyn-b2

@elainsweetcobalt

@emilyondemand

Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[hellowitchlingg]

Azris in Faerûn - pt. 2

This time with wings! :D (I'll have to redo the ascendant kisses maybe but omg it took so much time.)

#2 and #3 are bout to make me act up btw.

ENJOY ya filthy animals

[herdarkmaterialsss]

[gypsybelladonna]

tag drop for azrial marsden

[mongrel-mika]

sketch page commission for @azrial-lion

gotta love a big lion~

[weirdlythneederina]

Some sketches of Azrial(human plant)🌻☺️

[north-polar]

I'm out of my head, of my heart and my mind

Description: I wrote some tamsand and SOMEONE(YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) bullied me into posting it so please accept this brainrot. Warnings for canon stuff that happened utm but it's not elaborated on.

Rhysand never liked Lucien.

The seventh son of the Lady of Autumn. Born during a time of delicate peace between courts. Overshadowed by the siblings that towered over him. Unremarkable and of no use save for the snort Rhysand smothered the day when the child was presented as Beron’s at the high lords’ meeting. 

One look at the boy could tell anyone otherwise. 

It was a much needed source of amusement amongst the boredom, the gathering was completely devoid of any of value. Nothing justified him being there whatsoever. 

Tamlin was absent from that day’s meeting.

Years would pass and Rhysand would forget about the runt, spending his time on more important matters. Sicing Cassian onto Illyrian rebellions, wielding Azrial to send a message. Things that needed to be attended to. 

Rhysand would be abruptly reminded of the brat when the princeling made himself the center Prythian’s attention. He caused quite the stir when he was caught in the arms of some faerie lover, exiled from Autumn, and chased down by the three that held him down. 

That little fox had scurried off to Spring court, and two out of those three siblings were reduced to nothing but to bloody piles of gore. 

The report from Azriel described it as if the two brothers were mauled and gnawed on by some sort of dangerous, wild fae. He suggested scouting out the Spring court to assure that there were no monsters from the Prison that escaped. Rhysand declined.

Rhysand knew better. 

Soon, news would reach him that Tamlin made Lucien emissary. 

Seemed that Spring’s high lord took a liking to the fox. A fondness. A favorite new pet, no doubt. 

Tamlin had always liked to take in and care for wounded animals. 

Shortly after the news reached Rhysand, Tamlin appeared at the next High Lord’s meeting with him in tow. Instead of taking his rightful and appropriate place sitting behind his Lord, standing politely and silently, the fox pulled up a chair next to him. Right at the table. Like him and the Lord were equals. Tamlin didn’t bat an eye. 

Every meeting for the next couple centuries to come would start with that, but progressively became more agonizing as time went by.

A shared look here and there. A knowing smirk tossed to one another. A quick roll of the eyes when another High Lord spat out utter nonsense and gibberish. Quick glances that held deep meanings. Kicking each other under the table to keep one from talking and inciting a political incident. 

Rhysand would glare and glare, but no looks from those viridescent eyes ever came his way. 

That brat would take and take his Lord’s attention and hoard it like the greedy little fox he was. 

Then came Hybern’s General.

Her.

Rhysand was there when Lucien would become the center of Prythian’s focus for a second time. He regarded as she carved his face, observed as she scooped out his eye with her long, sharp fingernails.  

He didn’t need to fake a smile. 

Only a few weeks would pass until every High Lord received an invitation. A ball. The Spring Court was encouraged to wear masks in solidarity with its disfigured emissary. 

Rhysand should have seen what was coming. He knew that she wanted Tamlin, he knew there was something wrong with the drinks, but it was too late to do anything about it.

A blight soon manifested herself across the land Prythian. A curse inflicted. Deals struck. 

For Tamlin, fifty years to bed a mortal woman and make her fall for him. For Rhysand, fifty years spent leashed to her, to be hers until her chosen obsession ultimately failed and took his mantle as her trophy. 

Rhysand agreed to his deal voluntarily. Tamlin finally looked him in the eye when he did so; piecing and damning. So much emotion.

…

Rhysand hated her. 

He abhorred her when he awoke to her face first thing in the morning and despised her when she was the last thing he saw before sleep took him. 

He hated sitting next to her while she was poised on her throne. He hated when she was on top of him. He hated when she was under him. He hated her marks that she carved into his back. Like lashings from a whip. 

He hated her sharp fingernails.

He hated himself for wishing that the claws of someone else were the one leaving the scars in the heat of passion. 

He hated that the only way he could get through the night as the years dragged on was to imagine that it was someone else when she defiled. Someone he loathed. 

Loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and loathed and love–

Forty-nine passed before something changed. A mortal woman. Rhysand saw her at Calanmai. He had been permitted to go under the guise of surveillance. He told himself that same reason every year that he found himself lining up next to the cave for the sacred rite. He was never chosen.

He scared off the mortal’s tormentors, and offered his hand. He saw her fear. Her thoughts raced almost as fast as her loud heartbeat. It felt good. 

He left her that night. 

He’d leave a few gifts here and there as the deadline drew near. A head. A faerie wingless. Something that would make Tamlin think about him.

He paid a visit. Her mind was like wet sand in his hands for him to play with, so brittle and fragile. He made Tamlin kneel for him. He made Lucien watch. It was supposed to feel good.

Tamlin brought himself to his knees for a mortal woman. To save his court. To save his Lucien. It wasn’t for Rhysand.

He didn’t tell Her the mortal woman’s true name. They took another and tortured her to death. Rhysand replaced her in his mind with a fox. 

The deadline came and passed. Tamlin joined him under the mountain. He didn’t look at Rhysand. It was just as infuriating as those meetings from the past. 

Then the mortal came.

She declared her love to Tamlin and She indulged the woman with three trials and a poem to answer. She was not creative, she probably gave her the poem to infuriate her obsession. He loved intricate poems and wordplay, always did, and that poem was mind-numbingly simple and easy. 

The mortal couldn’t figure it out for three months, but Rhysand figured it out the moment those words finished leaving Her mouth. He knew and understood its meaning with crystal clarity.  He wanted to laugh, cry, and rage at that. 

Lucien was lashed and mutilated for helping the mortal.

Lucien was endangered during one of the trials. 

Rhysand didn’t need to fake a smile. 

Tamlin wouldn’t respond to him. No reaction. Nothing. Just a face of stone with a far away look in his eyes. The green muted and dulled. It was enraging. 

Rhysand wanted something. Rage, sadness, repulsion, disgust. Anything.

So he latched onto that mortal. Dolled her up in paint and glorified ribbons, and paraded her around like a new toy. The faerie wine he forced her to consume took away any memory of it from her, but Rhysand never drank enough to forget. He didn’t want to forget how the rage burned in Tamlin’s eyes. 

The dangerous, wild beast who mauled and maimed chained down with a heart of stone. 

Rhysand caught him and the mortal together. He kissed her reverently. She reached his pants. He felt one of his teeth crack under the grit of his jaw. 

He interrupted. Replaced Tamlin's spot. 

Her lips tasted like his. 

The final trial came and passed. Tamlin was stabbed in the heart by an act of love. An act of freeing him. Poetic. 

They were all free. The mortal was dead. 

Rhysand didn’t want to keep looking at Tamlin’s face. The agony was so potent that it seeped into all of the cracks in his walls. 

He made them all bring her back. For him.

He saw her the following day.

Mate. 

The following few years were crowded, but Rhysand didn’t commit them to memory. Everything turned out in his favor. The 'Band of Exiles' made Rhysand snort just like he did long ago, not bothering to cover it up. Little fox scurried off again somewhere else. Rhysand had gotten his mate. He had gotten his power. His dominance stayed intact. He had it all.

Everything. 

Except he was haunted. 

Green eyes. Everywhere. Out the corner of his eye.  Rhysand could read minds but nothing compared to how they read his soul; Condemning and all-knowing. They controlled him. 

The Solstice was a breaking point. He had to get rid of them, those eyes. He had to tear out the problem by the roots. Be rid of the beast that held that much power over him. That monster.

He couldn’t do it himself. He told Tamlin to rid the world of his existence. To Die. It was the only way to be free. It had to. Please.

I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you

I have to kill you. It’s the only way to get you out of my mind and heart.

I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you

Please just die already let me be free

I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you I loathe you

Please.

Please.

Please.

Please.

I love you.

[aces-solace]

Basic info about my malefailure mc!

Name: Ace/Azrial Ezekiel Leo Smith

Age: 15

Gender: Male

Favorite colors: red, black, and green.

Voice claim: Killua from hunter x hunter

Description: African-American 5'8 male with medium length black hair. Ace's eyes are a light grey while Azrial's eyes are black with 'fragments' of different colors in them.

Clothing style: it varies depending on how he feels.

Personality: Ace is quiet and can be cold. Known to be blunt and harsh, morally grey and sadistic. Azrial's very bubbly and happy go lucky with a secret morally grey and sadistic side.

Strength:???

Hobbies: drawing, painting, cooking, writing (extremely good at writing poems about anything), partying (they often go with Mammon and asmo to parties to make sure they don't get into too much trouble), taking walks ECT;

[daisychains111]

live "tweet" books with me (via the Goodreads progress bar) pt. 6 A Court of Silver Flames by Sarah J. Maas

SHAMELESS PLUG: The rest of the books are on my page as pt 4/4.5 and pt 5 hehe

Nesta laughing at the cauldron is so badass oml.....she was really pissing me off in frost and starlight so this book better redeem her"

you're reading my mind cassian...man up and knock

is he gonna call her nes the whole book YES PEASE

 Nesta "You're not my high lord" Archeron back in action

hahahaha rhys is scared of nesta (for good reason but it's still funny)

I still say that Nesta and Mor are gonna be besties.... it's just a matter of time

HAHAHA self insert smut book shaming

damn Cass brutal as hell

I am beyond excited to watch these two losers lust after each other for the next 700 pages...my favorite annoyances to lovers....plus Cass drooling over Nesta in pants is HILARIOUS

cassian comparing his reactions to things that happened to Nesta to Rhys' reaction to feyre and Tamlin cracks me up....just patiently waiting for their mating bond to kick in

Eris is right, they need him...but 1 he doesn't need to be a dick about it, and 2. I'm not excited for Mor to find out

Nesta making fun of her celibate bat boy "making fun of my smut books? I raise you making fun of you having to jerk off yourself" ICON

how Az isn't laughing his ass off rn I will never know...he's stronger than me that's for sure

hmmmmmm....Nesta dear, that sounds suspiciously like a mating bond

these mf have dirty ass minds....they're really just horny af

cassian don't be a creeper

yes Cassian be very bashful about what the sentient house can see...ya nasty

I would choose to read books with a romantic subplot over just a plain romance book literally every day but sometimes I'm really just like "fuck your war go kiss"

hehe Nesta and Gwen bestie prediction

I love the house so much...such an instigator

OMG JUST KISS ALREADY WTF

choosing to ignore the length of Cassian's hair bc long hair is an ick

AHHHH HIM TELLING HER TO KEEP REACHING OUT HER HAND JUST LIKE MOR TOLD HIM TO DO WITH HER IS ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL...IM SOBBING

I'm really ready for the Archeron sisters to be on one team...this 2 vs 1 bullshit is stupid...like clearly you love each other

YYAAAYYY KISSIINNGGG

YAYA RHYS AND FEYRE BABY!!! I saw that coming from a millleeeeee away

that is gonna be the most spoiled child known to man

reading this in the library at school is an interesting choice

"Just sex," my ass

azrial is the worst chaperone in all of existence... but he's also clearly the biggest Cassian/Nesta shipper in existence, so it's fine... Also, the way he just knowingly ate at the table after what they did is BOLD

awwww smutty book club

the older sister disapproval is real...also Nesta calling Rhys Rhysand is hilarious

I love Emerie and Gwyn so much omg

Emerie and Gwyn giggling at the sword inuendos is peak bestie vibe energy

every once in a while the Archeron sisters will say something very "human girl in her 20s" and it cracks me up to no end to watch their centuries-old faerie boyfriends look at them as if they're speaking tongues

just admit you're in love with each other..." just sex" is just hurting both of you

that is just about the hottest thing I've ever read

ewwww what does Tamlin want

Nesta needs a pin that says "bitch and proud" bc she really owns that shit like no other

"your my friend" my absolute ass

I love dancer!Nesta

bc I haven't read in like 5 days I can't remember what plan Cassian is ruining rn but I'm glad he's doing it...go dance with your girl pookie

HE HAD MOR GIVE HIM DANCE LESSONS??!!?!? YOU SHUT UP RIGHT NOW

Rhys is good at his job bc he can have feyre AND Cassian freaking out at him in his head and still hold a conversation....live laugh love feyre and Cassian as the Nesta Archeron protection squad

ha ha az...can't hide that you are in love with Elain from Nesta, she sees all

Az getting Nesta a gift is the cutest thing ever

FUCKING FINALLY JESUS CHRIST 🤦🏽‍♀️

Cassian has the confidence of an actual doormat...sometimes it's sweet, sometimes it's annoying as hell

YAY THEY'RE MATES....BOOO THEY'RE STUPID

I love Gwen so much...that's all

THEY'RE GONNA WIN THE WHOLE THING I JUST KNOW

hehe her mate taught her 😊

there is a little too much plot happening right now for a book that only has 30 pages left

cracking jokes after you almost just died...Cassian I love you

OH GOOD GOD FEYRE

death pacts make me want to kill the people who made them

miracle magic objects are gonna miracle magic object now and bc Nesta's a badass everyone's gonna live...the end

YAY NESTA AND RHYS ARE GONNA BE BESTIESSS

awwwwww nyx

if I die never knowing what happened with Eris and Mor I'll kill Sarah myself (I never got to know)

(Afterthought in post-production: this could've been two books bc the way the plot was resolved in the last 30 pages of a 750-page book is WILD)

I'm also not gonna be reading fantasy for a while just bc that's not what's next on the tbr, so it might be a while before I do the next part cause these are harder to make for contemporary novels tehe

[robboyu]

art fight attacks!! (format totally not borrowed from mayor)

and speaking of @mayordea , their fe awakening oc: Reflect! (heres their art fight profile go draw their ocs)

Aalto (for hhyunn on AF)

Hayate for @lavelven (lavellan on AF)

Helion (for chachasuii on AF)

Botan (for dergrumpy on AF)

Odysseus (for whymsics on AF)

Malie for @rezakiofficial (Rezaki on AF)

Lavender (for scorpi on AF)

Ava (for Okaana on AF)

Abby (for Raccoon__bear on AF)

Ferya (for Tem_Tempura on AF)

Azrial (for Kiryu_Chan on AF)

Aeon for @zobinks (ZoBinksArt on AF)

Alecto (for brighburner on AF)

Rae'lia for @skarmoree (skarmoree on AF)

Mira (for Appleslices05 on AF)

Medea for @a-little-pigeon (Pigeonsnest on AF)

Ive been having so much fun drawing everyones ocs, they're all so pretty! more to come once I have another big batch probably

[hyacinthoideshispanica]

Gwynriel demon au prompt

Azriel is a shadow demon the Valkyries accidentally/unknowingly summon during one of their sleepovers.

Gwyn: I found a book on the supernatural at the library today.

Emerie: Oh, cool! Let's look at it!

The girls start flipping through pages until they come to one with a strange drawing on it.

Emerie: What is that?

Nesta: It looks like a large black blob. That's disappointing.

Gwyn: The text says it's something called a Shadowsinger....

Nesta: It's still disappointing.

Gwyn continues to mutter to herself as she reads the sparse amount of information on the page and then notices a piece of smudged writing near the strange drawing.

Gwyn: Az....Azrial? No, Azriel. Yes, that's it. Azriel.

None of the girls notice that the shadows in the corner seem to move closer to Gwyn after that.

Because Gwyn summoned him, Azriel is now tied her, so until she sends him away, he's bound to follow her everywhere, and this goes on for months because at first she doesn't even know he's there!

Azriel can take physical form sometimes, though, mainly when his host is asleep because it's one of the only times he's able to draw enough energy from them. So, he starts visiting Gwyn in her dreams.

Gwyn, dreaming of flying on a pegasus: What are you?

A large mass of shadows that swarm nearby until they form into Azriel: I am the shadowsinger. You summoned me.

Gwyn: No, I didn't. Now, get out of my dream. You're frightening the pegasi.

Azriel: Release me and I will leave you.

Gwyn says she will, but when she wakes up, she ignores it, thinking it's just a dream.

Azriel spends every day watching Gwyn from the shadows and every night invading her dreams and eventually a mutual attraction forms.

Gwyn enjoys her dreams with Azriel but also becomes concerned that she's becoming too caught up in a fantasy. She still doesn't know Azriel is really there, so she agrees to go on a date with a guy in an effort to live in reality.

Random guy: Hey, it's Gwyn, right?

Gwyn turns around from stacking books to see a cute looking guy in front of her.

Gwyn: Yes. Can I help you with something?

Random guy: Well, I hope so. I was hoping you could help me by saying yes to dinner next Saturday.

Gwyn becomes a little flustered, and the section of the library they're in seems to grow dimmer in response.

Gwyn: Oh.... Well, sure. That'd be really nice.

The stack of books Gwyn was organizing moments ago seem to fall at random, and the lights go out completely when the guy uses helping her pick them back up as an excuse to brush her hand.

Gwyn: That's strange. We've never had a power outage before...

Gwyn goes to check the fuse box in the basement, and while she's down there, she thinks she hears someone faintly call her name. She looks around but sees only darkness and brushes it off. She's been reading too many of Nesta's dark romances lately...

That night, Azriel appears to Gwyn as normal, but he's not happy.

Gwyn: Azriel? What's wrong?

Azriel: You said yes to him.

Gwyn: What are you talking about? Yes to who?

Azriel: To him! You said yes to him in the library! I heard every word. I saw every blush. I even saw him touch you.

Gwyn: That's impossible. You're not-

Azriel: Not what, Gwyn? Not real? A fantasy?

Gwyn nods insistently, and Azriel rushes towards her, encircling her with his shadows and, for the very first time, touches her.

Azriel, placing Gwyn's hands on his chest: You can feel my heartbeat. Is that a fantasy, Gwyn?

He drops her hands to hold her face and looks deeply into her eyes.

Azriel: Look into my eyes, Gwyn. See the centuries that echo through them. See the years of darkness and pain and silence that relentlessly consumed me until the moment you first spoke my name.

Gwyn is dumbstruck, not knowing what to do or say, but her eyes travel to and linger on Azriel's lips.

Azriel, looking between her lips and her eyes, pulling her even closer: Is this a fantasy, Gwyn?

He kisses her, and after a moment, she kisses him back.

Azriel: Am I real enough now?

Gwyn, stunned and pleasantly breathless: Yes. Yes, you're real, Azriel. My Azriel.

They kiss again just before Gwyn wakes up.

She tells herself she's being ridiculous. Azriel is a figment of her imagination. He only feels real because she wants it so badly, and that certainly wasn't healthy, and she is 100% grounded from any more dark romance novels.

So, she decides to ignore it. To forget everything about him and go back to dreaming about Pegasuses or singing on Broadway like she used.

She goes about her life as if nothing has changed. Work at the library is perfectly normal. She sorts books, assists patrons, and reads to children. And very much doesn't notice the thick tome title, Demons Brought to Life, that randomly appears at her research desk.

Then, she goes to her self-defense class and does not feel a shadowy wisp tenderly correct her stance. Shadows weren't something someone could feel. It was just a loose strand of hair that tickled her ankle and made her readjust her stance...

Then, at dinner with Nesta and Emerie, after making a comment on how delectable the chocolate cake was, she absolutely does not hear Azriel's quiet, sensual voice somewhere in the back of her mind, whisper a salacious comment about how delectable she'd taste...

Over and over again, she ignores all these things and half-heartedly tells herself pitiful excuses to explain each and every thing until finally it's the Friday before her date.

Gwyn falls asleep quickly, having spent the evening planning her outfit so she won't have to worry about it tomorrow, and soon she's in her dream world. Aimlessly wandering through the halls of an ancient but beautiful temple.

She's examining a perfectly preserved vase when suddenly the room grows dark. Shadows have swarmed the area, and a chill runs up Gwyn's spine. Though from anticipation or nerves, she can't say.

She feels Azriel appear behind her, his hands coming to rest on her hips before wrapping around her and pulling her against his chest.

Azriel: You've been shutting me out for days. How I've missed you.

A low moan escapes Gwyn. She can't stop it. Not when Azriel's lips are traveling up her neck and his hands are tracing slow circles over her stomach and thighs. Back arching slightly, she throws her head back to give him greater access to her throat, and soon, his tongue is messaging just above her collarbone, where her pulse is going wild. Her hand reaches back, digging her fingers into his thick hair.

Gwyn thinks about how good this feels and how she wishes she never had to wake up, but that thought sends her eyes flying open and her posture straightening.

Gwyn: We can't. We can't do this.

Azriel immediately pauses in his teasing. Stepping back and waiting for Gwyn to face him.

Azriel: Do you not want me?

Gwyn: Of course I do but you're not-

Azriel: Stop lying to yourself. You know I'm real. You know I'm a demon.

Gwyn turns away, trying to catch her breath and steady her heartbeat before looking at him again, but when she does, there are tears in her eyes.

Gwyn: I know. I know exactly who and what you are, Azriel. You're a demon, and you're mine, and I love you! But we can't! Once we do, there's no turning back for me. How am I supposed to live my life like this? How am I supposed to live every day just waiting for the night so I can see you?

She's breaks down sobbing, and soon Azriel's arms are around her again. This time, though, they are cradling her against him, soothing and comforting while his shadows gently wipe away her tears.

Azriel: You love me?

Gwyn wails out a "Yes" and buries her face into the crook of his neck.

Azriel: I love you too, and you won't have to spend your whole life sleeping.

Azriel reminds her of the random book that appeared to her in the library and says it was from him. It was a spell book with instructions on how to summon, banish, and even destroy demons, but there is one page, written in an ancient language no one currently living could read that details a ritual that would allow a demon to take human form at will.

Gwyn immediately agrees to help him and is so excited that she jolts awake.

It's very late. Almost three in the morning, in fact, but Gwyn doesn't let that stop her from throwing on a jacket over her pajamas, grabbing her keys, and heading for the library. She knew the code to disable the alarm, and if anyone asked, she'd tell them she suddenly realized the little stove in the tiny break room tucked behind the stairs to the second floor was left on. No one wanted a Library of Alexandria repeat, right?

Gwyn can feel Azriel beside her with every step as she rushes through the stacks, her heart pounding and her hands shaking as she pulls the book from the shelf.

Azriel, his voice quiet and serious, sounds in the back of Gwyn's mind. Speaking the long forgotten spell in an unfamiliar language for her to repeat over a circle of symbols he's helped her draw. With each word, Azriel's voice sounds clearer and closer and the pitch black shadows that sat just behind her beging to writhe, slowly taking the form of a human.

Gwyn holds out her hand for the final part, and Azriel, now semi corporeal, pulls a knife, beautiful and terrifying and glinting colbalt at the hilt, from the shadows and makes a small cut on Gwyn's wrist before following through with his own. Gwyn produces a long white ribbon, a lucky charm that she always had with her, and ties their hands together. While human and demon blood blended between them.

Trying to concentrate on the final words, Gwyn closes her eyes, and when she opens them again. Azriel is standing before her. Not a mass of shadows, not a shadowy figure. Azriel. Her Azriel, just like in her dreams, only now she is awake.

She quickly assess him. He looks much the same as he did in her dreams, tall, tan with thick dark hair and intense hazel eyes. The remaining shadows swirling around him come to rest in bold, intricate designs all along his muscled chest and arms in a way that anyone else would think were tattoos. His large, batlike wings were gone, and what looked like long ago healed scars adorned his hands, but she didn't care. He was beautiful and he was hers and he was here.

Gwyn: How do you feel?

Azriel: A little weak, but I think I'm alright.

Gwyn: Do you want to sit down?

Azriel: Will you sit with me?

Gwyn: Of course.

They sit together, holding each other in perfect silence for hours until the sun starts to rise, and Gwyn suggests they head back to her house before any other employees show up.

Back at Gwyn's house, Azriel slowly sips tea and, after a shower, climbs into bed beside Gwyn.

Gwyn: It'll be a little strange, falling asleep and not seeing you on the other side. Strange but also nice.

They fall asleep holding each other, and when they wake up, it's evening.

Gwyn: How do you feel?

Azriel: Good. I feel good.

Gwyn: Do you want some food?

Azriel: No. I want to kiss you.

Gwyn blushes a little as she leans towards him. She wonders if this would technically be their first kiss and if Azriel's lips would be slightly cold like they were in her dreams, but as soon as their lips touch, she knows she's wrong about that. His lips were warm and soft and moving against hers in a wonderful way that she didn't want to stop.

Azriel must have felt the same way because he only pulled her closer, kissing her again and again until the atmosphere turned from sweet to heated.

Soon, their hands are slipping under clothing, exploring and claiming each other's bodies. And then clothes are just entirely torn off.

Azriel's lips are at Gwyn's throat. His hands are running over her breasts, down her stomach, and to her thighs where he holds her legs open and kisses his way down her body before pressing his mouth to her core.

Azriel: I was wrong. You're not delectable. You're decadent! Sinfully decadent!

Gwyn can only moan in response, shamelessly lifting her hips upwards, urging him to continue, and Azriel is only too happy to oblige.

Some time later, after riding him through yet another shared orgasm, Gwyn is flipped onto her back, Azriel laying above her.

Azriel: I have a confession. That spell didn't turn me fully human. I still have some power.

Gwyn: What does that mean?

Azriel gestures slightly, and Gwyn sees him smile mischievously before wispy tendrils of something black come from every corner of the room and slowly drag across her body.

Azriel: It means I can do this.

The tendrils suddenly feel heavier, like she could grasp them in her hand if she wanted, and collect at her ankles and wrists. The shadows. He could still command shadows.

She had once thought that shadows couldn't be felt. Oh, how wrong she was! She could definitely feel these, and they were nothing like before. Before they had been faint whispers of air, easily ignored, but now they were soft, silk-like ribbons, and she luxuriates in the feel of them playfully restraining her or touching and teasing places Azriel couldn't pay proper attention to while he was relentlessly pounding into her.

Finally, sweaty and spent, they allow themselves to rest. Content in each other's arms, they drift off to sleep together, and the last thing Azriel hears is Gwyn whispering, "I love you, my Azriel." While snuggling closer to him.

Exaughsted as she is, Gwyn still smiles when Azriel lovingly kisses her forehead and whispers back, "I love you, my Gwyn."

As always, this prompt is up for grabs.

[kuno-chan]

Clotho is One of the Fates - Another Case for Gwynriel

I know a lot of people think Elriel is endgame, but I don't think people realize that Azriel gives the necklace to Clotho. Who is, in our real world, one of the 3 fates. She is the spinner of the thread of life.

Azriel gives the necklace to Clotho to give to Gwyn whose shadows relax and sing with and Clotho asks Azriel if he wants her to tell Gwyn it's from him. He doesn't, but Clotho aka THE SPINNER OF LIFE, decides to tell Gwyn it's from a friend.

Azriel also is adamant that he more or less deserves (effectively, this is his mindset) Elain because Cassian and Rhysand got the other two Archeron sisters. Azriel also wanted Mor.

Azrial always pines after what he can't have.

Narratively speaking, Azriel isn't going to be rewarded with what he wants so bad the same way because he actually thinks she might have been meant for him due to an idea of fate. Which is not dissimilar to the idea that Elain being with Lucien would be obeying fate. Plus, he's not really over Mor. Azriel doesn't answer Rhysand when Rhys asks Az about that.

If anything, Elain is something to pursue (genuinely, he likes her, no doubt about that) besides Mor who does not return his feelings. Mor isn't an option. Elain is an option. One he genuinely likes, cares for and lusts over, but an option nonetheless.

Being with Elain doesn't teach Azriel anything. It doesn't actually help his arc in any way. Because he gets what he pines after for. He gets what he wants. Not what he needs.

Nesta and Cassian had to learn to love themselves enough and heal enough to let them have what they each wanted: each other, something they resisted. Feyre and Rhysand had to help each other in a similar way. Neither pairing thought it was really fate (except Rhys who knew she was his mate but acted against it so Feyre could choose).

Azriel genuinely thinks it could be fate that Elain is meant for him. Meanwhile, Clotho, the literal spinner of fate, is trying to get Azriel to be intentional about gifting something to Gwyn non-anonymously.

[msbrownwithacrown]

This is the Rhysand I pictured:

This is Azrial:

This is Cassian:

You can guess who my favorite bat boy is.

[our-nonbinary-experience]

So... Uh... About names.....

When I first came out as nonbinary, I changed my name to Ezra. It's not very similar to my dead name, I just like z's.

But, even though it's been a few years, I kinda want a nickname that doesn't come from my chosen name or deadname. Idk why.

However, I don't know which I should choose.

Here are some of my ideas (please note that I use they/them, xe/xim, and lean towards androgynous masc)

-Rhys

-Moss

-Azrial

-Theo

Those are all lovely names, anon! I doubt I’m the right person to give input on names, since that should be your choice, but I will say Azrial is super cool! Good luck in choosing a name!

[azsazz]

I need azrial to strangle me with his big sexy hands

me too honestly 😭

[weirdlythneederina]

@twompweek Day 5

Prompt: Fantasy

I scrapped my first picture for Day 5 and went back to the drawing board🥲

So now we're here with Azrial(Human Plant) as a Florian🌻🌷