#obsessed azriel

[lunaatthezoo]

Desperate Azriel >>>>>>>>

🎨 by @ art_by_ava.georgia on Instagram. She owns my eyeballs.

[mirrorballpages]

Forever is the sweetest con

He was growing frustrated—no, furious—with his fascination for yet another woman he couldn’t have. It wasn’t enough that he yearned for Elain Archeron; it was the way she consumed him, leaving him feeling torn between urges he couldn’t reconcile. Whenever he saw her, he either wanted to fuck her or marry her—or both.

And it had to stop.

---------------------------------------------------

He needed an outlet. He needed to forget.

The thought brought him to the place he, Rhys, and Cassian had frequented during their younger, wilder years—a seedy bar in Velaris known for its beautiful women. Back then, they’d walk in as the strongest and most handsome males in the room. As Illyrians and a High Lord, picking up women had been easy. Too easy. Azriel clenched his fists at the memory, his blood humming with the need to drown himself in something—anything—to quiet the maddening longing he felt whenever he thought of Elain.

Cassian, however, wasn’t as eager. "I’ve got things to do," he said, though Azriel caught the hesitation in his voice.

Azriel raised a brow. "This wouldn’t have anything to do with the other Archeron sister, would it?"

Cassian shot him a glare but said nothing. That was answer enough. Azriel had seen the way his brother looked at Nesta, the way he spoke about her with a reverence Azriel found both baffling and vaguely amusing. Still, he managed to convince Cassian to come along, though his friend’s heart didn’t seem in it.

By the time they reached the bar, the familiar haze of alcohol and laughter washed over Azriel, and for a moment, he let himself relax. The room was filled with beautiful women, as he’d expected, their eyes turning to him and Cassian the moment they entered. Azriel’s sharp features and dark aura drew them like moths to flame, and soon enough, a group of females approached them.

One of them sidled up to Azriel, her bold smile suggesting she was no stranger to getting what she wanted. She was taller than he usually preferred, with long dark hair, green eyes, and curves that would have made any other male’s head spin. She wasn’t subtle, her flirtation direct and unmistakable. "What’s the Spymaster of the Night Court doing in a place like this?" she asked, her voice low and teasing.

Azriel gave her a small, tight smile, taking a sip of his drink. "Just passing the time."

She leaned closer, her hand brushing his arm. "Well, let me help you with that."

She was an easy fix to his Elain problem. Azriel let her lead him into conversation, her laughter filling the gaps as he forced himself to engage. The liquor burned pleasantly in his throat, and for a moment, he let himself imagine he could go through with this. That he could take her back to her place, lose himself in her, and finally, finally, rid himself of the ache that clung to him like a second skin.

Read The Rest on A03

[lunaatthezoo]

She'll Wait No Longer: Chapter One

I learned how to use AO3 (kind of) and Chapter One of my first ever fic is posted! Thank you so much to all who read my little preview earlier today and encouraged me. AO3/Tumblr Girlies are the best 😊

Follow the link below to give it a read. I have MANY chapters written already so I will post more in the near future. Enjoy the longing/pining/obsessing/smut/fluff/secret relationship!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60399079/chapters/154165558

The way she was looking at him…her plush bottom lip was resting on the edge of her tumbler, which her finger was slowly stroking over and over and over again, as if she didn’t even realize she was doing it. Her chest was rising and falling with increasing speed, and her pulse visibly fluttered along the side of her throat. Her shining hair was twisted up on top of her head, exposing her neck to him completely.

That smooth, slender, creamy throat would be the death of Azriel one day. If he died with his face smothered in Elain’s soft neck, consumed by her hypnotic honey and jasmine scent, he would die a happy male.

Elain’s huge, warm brown eyes were glazed over, but held a fire within them he had only seen twice before. The memory of the first time he saw that look in her eyes drifted to him as he drank in her smoldering gaze. 

[lunaatthezoo]

What None Saw: Chapter 5 (Rita's)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” he murmured. “You…”

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

Say something you godsdamned fucking idiot.

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

Dashing? Dashing, you miserable fucking bastard? Azriel had never hated himself more.

[mirrorballpages]

Azriel was determined to make this trip to the Day Court as quick as possible. Every minute spent away was a minute stolen from her. From Elain. He met with his spies, gathered the intelligence he needed, and wasted no time in launching himself back into the skies. Normally, he would have lingered—used the opportunity to bask in the solitude, the escape from the noise back home. But not now. Not with Elain waiting.

He flew hard and fast, the golden fields and sprawling vineyards of the Day Court giving way to the dark, misty peaks of the Night Court. He almost laughed at how quickly he'd made the trip, at how the thought of returning to her had put a weightless energy in his veins. He used to seek out reasons to stay away from Velaris for days, weeks—his shadows his only companions. But now... now he wanted to be there. To be near her.

By the time he touched down in the townhouse garden, his wings ached, but he ignored it. Elain was there, watering the small patch of roses near the stone path, her face tilted toward the sun. He knew she could sense him the moment he arrived, even if she didn't show it. She always did. Some unspoken awareness passed between them, one he didn't dare name.

"You're back sooner than I expected!" she said, turning with a smile that sent something tight and unfamiliar curling in his chest. "Nuala, Cerridwen and I just finished preparing the roast for tonight."

Azriel couldn’t help but admire her—really admire her. The golden-brown of her waves caught the afternoon sunlight, creating a soft halo around her, as if the earth itself knew she was a goddess made flesh. He swore her hair was beginning to get curlier with each passing day. Her cheeks, flushed pink from the sun, were dusted with freckles, a constellation he could spend hours mapping if she’d let him. The soft green of her dress clung to her slender waist, the fabric billowing gently around her legs. It was simple—practical—but on her, it was perfection.

He forced himself to clear his throat, to keep his voice even. "It was uneventful, which was a nice surprise," he said, crossing his arms, trying to appear casual rather than like a male whose pulse had just quickened. Read on AO3