nicawritesandwhines

[nicawritesandwhines]

I wanted to write one scene, but it ended up being too long, so I decided to split it into two parts. Here is the first part, I hope you like it :)

Today, the sharp scent of blood filled the air, and the tortured screams echoed through the cavernous room of Hewn City. His shadows felt heavier than ever before.

Azriel could feel it...Elain's gaze on him. Her presence at the corner of the room, her delicate figure frozen in place, haunted him more than the bloodied male kneeling at his feet. The male had been a threat to everything Elain held dear, and Azriel knew there was no choice. He had to do this. But as the male's suffering echoed in his ears, a knot twisted painfully in Azriel's chest.

He had to protect her. Protect them all.

But in doing so, he had stained himself further. The line between what was necessary and what was vile had blurred, and he wasn’t sure where one ended and the other began.

The male in front of him begged, his words a tangled mess of desperation. Azriel didn’t need to listen. He could already feel the truth of his own soul’s decay, taste the bitter resentment in his blood.

But Elain…

His gaze flicked to her again, catching a glimpse of her wide eyes. She stood rigid, like a porcelain doll. Azriel couldn’t help but feel the weight of her gaze piercing him, burning through every inch of his resolve. No one, not even Rhys, had ever stayed to witness him torturing someone...yet here she was.

She would hate him for this.

She would see him for what he truly was...no matter how hard he tried to deny it. A monster. A creature born of shadows, who used pain as a weapon and death as his ally. And he couldn’t blame her.

His life had always been one of violence, of shadows and darkness, while Elain was the light, untarnished, untouched by the blood that stained his hands. But there was no other way. No other choice.

She’ll hate me.

The thought clung to him like dead weight. His hands, slick with sweat, trembled slightly as the shadows danced around him, curling like serpents to torment their victim. But Azriel’s mind was no longer focused on the traitor. It was on her. He wished he knew what she was thinking now.

He had thought he could keep her away from all of this...the horrors he lived with. He had convinced himself he could protect her from seeing the worst parts of him.

But he couldn’t deny that he didn’t regret what he did to the bastard in front of him. Not even a little.

Swiftly, he plunged Truth-Teller into the male’s throat and pulled it out, watching as he gagged on his own blood. He let his magic clean the dagger instantly, wiping away the blood on the blade, on his hands.

He heard Elain’s breath hitch and slowly turned to face her. His eyes landed on her hands...they were trembling slightly. But as soon as she noticed his gaze, she gripped her dress tightly, trying to steady them.

He couldn’t look at her face. He couldn’t look into her eyes.

She would never see him the same way again.

And he knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it...to see the horror in her gaze, to watch her look at him with fear, as so many had before.

Azriel slid Truth-Teller back into its sheath, his fingers clenching into fists. His shadows retreated reluctantly, leaving behind the lifeless body at his feet. His chest was tight, his breath coming in sharp, uneven as he stepped toward her, avoiding her eyes.

His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “I’ll winnow you home.”

A pause. A hesitation just long enough to make his chest tighten.

Then…

“To the townhouse.”

His head jerked slightly, unable to hide his surprise. He had expected her to refuse. He had expected her to demand an explanation, to cry, to run from him. He had prepared himself for that.

But she wasn’t running.

Not yet.

He swallowed, clenching his jaw. He knew why she wanted to go there. It was familiar, comforting. It was safe. And right now, she wanted to be somewhere safe.

Away from this. Away from him.

His throat felt raw as he reached for her. His eyes widened when she took his hand, her fingers tightening around his. His shadows gathered around them.

Cold air. The world shifting beneath them. And then…

Azriel willed himself to move. To take her away from that place. Away from him. His magic latched onto Elain, the cold bite of his power wrapping around her like a phantom touch. He felt her inhale the moment the world bent around them, shifting, twisting...

And it was over.

He let go of her hand the moment they landed in the foyer of the townhouse. The scent of rain and fresh bread replaced the iron tang of blood. Warmth pressed in on him.

Elain stumbled slightly, unsteady from the winnowing. Azriel’s hand twitched at his side...instinct screamed at him to reach for her. But he couldn’t.

Not with his hands still stained.

Not with the weight of what he had done clinging to him like a second skin.

Elain straightened, blinking rapidly. He should have left the moment they arrived...should have vanished into the night before she could speak, before she could look at him with whatever emotions burned behind those wide, brown eyes.

But he couldn’t move.

His body felt like lead, his lungs tight, his thoughts spiraling.

She was here. She had seen everything.

And still, she wasn’t running.

“I’ll go.” The words came out hoarse, barely audible.

“Azriel.”

The way she said his name stopped him cold. Not with fear. Not with disgust.

Azriel’s breath shuddered out of him. He couldn’t look at her.

If he did, he knew he’d shatter.

“Stay. Please.”

Two words. Soft. Pleading.

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. He wished she had screamed at him instead. Wished she had turned away, given him the excuse he needed to disappear into the night.

Azriel forced himself to turn to her, expecting...needing to see revulsion, fear, anything that would make it easier to leave.

But there was none.

She wasn’t pale. She wasn’t trembling. She wasn’t looking at him like he was a monster.

Her cheeks were flushed from the cold, her chest rising and falling.

And her eyes...

Brown and deep, filled with something he couldn’t name. Something that sent a sharp pain through his ribs because it was the last thing he deserved.

She shouldn’t be looking at him like that.

She stepped closer. “That male..he deserved it.”

“He was one of Koschei’s. I would have done the same thing you did to him,” she continued.

He flinched.

She was trying to make sense of it. Trying to justify it. Trying to tell him it was okay.

But it wasn’t.

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Elain,” he said, his voice hoarse, pained. “You don’t understand who I am. What I’ve done.”

“I do understand, Azriel,” she said softly, her voice steady “I understand more than you think…”

He shook his head, interrupting her, his eyes closing as if to block out the tenderness in her words.

“No,” he said, the word low . “You don’t. You don’t see the blood on my hands, the lives I’ve taken. You don’t see the monster inside of me. I’ve killed, Elain. I’ve destroyed people without a second thought, without mercy. And I’ve done worse...far worse.”

His voice cracked on the last part, but he didn’t care. It was the truth. He had broken things that could never be fixed, and no matter how much he tried to push it down, the shame clung to him .

Her eyes widened, her lips parted. “A monster? Is that what you think of yourself?”

The shame was suffocating, and the thought of her seeing him as he truly was...seeing the full extent of his darkness...was too much to bear.

With a sharp motion, he turned and walked to the door, ready to vanish, to bury himself in the night. But he couldn't run far enough to escape the ache in his chest.

He pushed open the door of the townhouse, stepping into the cold night air. The rain hit him like a thousand needles, soaking through his leathers, biting into his skin. It wasn’t enough to wash away the blood, but it was all he could do...leave, disappear into the storm, and let it consume him.

But no matter how far he walked, no matter how deep he pushed himself into the rain soaked streets, he couldn’t outrun her.

He heard her soft footsteps behind him.

“Did you think that if I saw you like that, I would finally hate you?” Her voice trembled.

He turned.

Elain stepped closer. The rain had drenched her entirely...her dress clung to her frame, her soaked hair curled wildly around her face. But she didn’t shiver.

“Go back home,” he said, his voice rough.

She ignored him. “That I would finally be scared enough to walk away?”

Azriel clenched his jaw. He had nothing to say to that..because it was true.

Elain took another step forward. “Because if that’s what you thought… if that’s what you wanted…” Her voice dropped, fierce. “Then I’m sorry to disappoint you.”

“You should hate me.” The words tore from him, raw and ragged. “You should be afraid.”

“But I’m not,” she shot back. “And you don’t get to decide that for me.”

Rain trickled down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. She just exhaled sharply. “You act like I don’t know who you are, Azriel. Like I’ve spent all this time looking at you through rose colored glass. But I do.”

He shook his head, stepping back. “You don’t...”

“I do,” she interrupted, her voice firm. “I know exactly who you are. I know what you do, what you have to do.”

His back hit the wall of the garden. He hadn’t even realized he’d been retreating.

Elain followed him, closing the space between them. “But I also know the way you never let anyone else carry the burden with you. The way you take on every horror so the rest of us don’t have to.”

Azriel closed his eyes, his jaw tightening so hard it hurt.

“You’re not a monster,” she said, her voice breaking. “You’re the most loving, caring male I’ve ever known.”

She was so close now that he could feel her warmth against his skin, but he didn’t reach for her. He couldn’t.

“Don’t do this,” he muttered. “I’m not the male who can give you the life you deserve.”

She was silent for a moment, her gaze never leaving him. Then, she said, “I never asked you to be anyone other than who you are. I don’t want the man you think you should be. I want you...the real you. Just you, Azriel.”

“You are worth loving,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “But you have to stop hiding from it. You have to stop running from me.”

“I’ve been so afraid of this,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of letting you in. Of you seeing the parts of me I can’t escape.”

“Let me in,” she said, reaching for him. “I’m not asking you to be perfect. I’m not asking you to change. I’m asking you to trust me. To trust us.”

"I love you," she said, her voice soft.

Azriel froze.

The words hit him like a physical blow, knocking the air from his lungs. His heart slammed against his ribs, his breath caught in his throat. Love. She loved him. He had never let himself hope...never dared to believe she could see every dark, broken part of him and still say those words.

A sharp ache spread through his chest, something consuming. He wanted to tell her she shouldn’t, that she deserved better, but the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, a part of him...one he had spent centuries silencing...wanted to believe her. Wanted to hold onto those words...

And then, he gave in.

Before Azriel even realized what he was doing, his hand was buried in her hair, fingers tangled in the damp strands as he pulled her toward him...hard, urgent.

His lips crashed against hers, desperate and demanding, as if he could make her words real, something he could touch and hold. The rain fell harder, cold rivulets running down his face, soaking through his leathers, but all he could feel was her. The warmth of her body pressed against his, the way she gasped into his mouth as he deepened the kiss... He was drowning in the sweet taste of her, his heart racing as he pulled her even closer, not caring about the rain, the storm, or anything else.

She kissed him back with equal force, her fingers clutching his neck, pulling him to her as if she could hold him there, keep him from slipping into the shadows he so often sought refuge in. Every kiss, every stroke of her soft lips sent a wave of heat through his body, settling deep in his gut.

When they finally pulled apart, gasping for air, Azriel pressed his forehead against hers, his breath uneven. His hands trembled as they cupped her face, his thumbs brushing over her flushed cheeks. He let himself drown in the depth of her gaze, in the impossible truth of what she had just given him.

Hope. Life.

"Come home with me," she murmured, her fingers tracing the scarred skin of his hands. "Let me take care of you."

A broken sound escaped him...half laugh, half sob. He nodded, his hand slipping into hers, the warmth of her touch melting the cold of the rain. Together, they walked...toward home...

[nicawritesandwhines]

A honeymoon in Summer Court

It was close to dinner time when Azriel, feeling utterly happy and relaxed, told his wife about the insomnia she caused him before Elain blessed him with a—second—chance. What he didn’t tell her, though, was his favorite fantasy during those terribly hot, needy times.

Elain sunbathing on the pinks sands of Whitehaven, a desert island on southwest Summer Court.

He would spend hours imagining her pale skin turning a soft golden, Elain laying down with minimal to no clothes at all. Her long and proper dresses forgotten on the sand, all her curves and angles exposed to sunlight. The peace and quiet surrounding them broken only by the melodic sound of crashing waves of the turquoise sea.

And Azriel would wonder. Gods, how he would wonder, the heated thoughts consuming him.

Would her shoulders be covered in freckles? Would her button nose get a lovely blush? Or would the delicate skin burn and crack due to too much exposure, exactly like that goddess statue he once saw in Velaris Museum, with tiny missing pieces?

And then, his imagination would give way to his needs. His shadows would be asleep and finally, he would fist himself whispering her name, almost hearing the sound of the ocean. Almost tasting the sea salt that would cover her still damp body.

So it was only natural that Azriel almost dropped his glass of wine mid drinking when Elain suggested their honeymoon should be somewhere close to the ocean.

A long forgotten island somewhere.

Oh. Oh.

“How close, love?” The shadowsinger could feel the heat on his cheeks. Did she knew?

“I want to make love hearing the waves from our bedroom window,” was her reply while serving herself a—second—glass of the same white wine he tried to have a sip previously.

Their gaze met, and Azriel felt it then, that unique familiarity between them given him all the answers.

Elain winked at him and raised her glass in a silent toast.

The little vixen knew.

Shaking his head, Azriel smiled and followed her raising his glass. The wine never tasted so sweet.

Oh, the joys of being marry to an oracle.

Bonus: Azriel’s view after they spent a whole day at the beach, just enjoying their honeymoon.

[nicawritesandwhines]

I’ve had this scene of an Elriel HC rumbling around my head the past couple of days. The HC is that Azriel gets hurt during a mission and Elain senses it. Like she knows exactly where he’s injured because she can feel the pain of his injury too.

Please bear with me as this is the first piece of creative writing I have done since high school, but also I hope you enjoy it 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

Reblogs, comments, questions, feedback are appreciated ❤️

The three Illyrian warriors touch down in front of the River House, bloodied and battle weary. The routine reconnaissance mission Rhys had planned once Azriel alerted him of the suspicious activity on the continent quickly turned into an ambush.

Feyre and Nesta rush to their mates as they enter the house. Amren and Mor quickly following behind. Azriel notes the absence of one Archeron sister, but quickly pushes the thought of her aside. She was somewhere in the house, her jasmine and honey scent hitting him as he limped through the doorway.

“What happened?” Feyre asks Rhysand, stepping out of his embrace to eye him more carefully, clearly searching him for injuries. “I’m fine, Feyre darling” he states aloud, as if answering a question she asked him mind-to-mind.

“Ambushed” Cassian responds, “One of Az’s spies was captured and tortured until they divulged information of our arrival on the continent”. A shuddered sob leaves Nesta at his words as Cassian turns and brushes away a wayward tear trailing down her cheek. “It’s okay, Nes. I’m here” he whispers, leaning his forehead to hers.

Shame hits Azriel like a blow to the gut. He blamed himself for what had happened to his spy, he had trained them after all. But what ate at him the most was that he had placed his brother’s lives in danger as well. “I do not blame you, nor does Cass” Rhys speaks into his mind, “We knew Koschei’s army was growing, something was bound to happen sooner or later”.

A knock at the door silences the room. Nuala appears from the shadows to open it, revealing Madja on the other side. “Oh hello dear. I received word I was needed urgently at the River House and came as quickly as I could” the healer says as she steps into the house. Seven pairs of eyes look around at each other, the same silent question being asked amongst them. “Do you know who sent for you, Madja?” Rhys asks.

“I did”.

All eyes turn to the staircase as Elain comes rushing down. Avoiding everyone’s stares, she comes to stand in front of the Shadowsinger. Her eyes, Azriel notes, are red rimmed and shining with unshed tears, as if she’s been crying. Worry and anger simultaneously wash over him - Who hurt her? Who made her cry?

He had. Memories of that Solstice night come flooding back. The hurt in her eyes at his words “This was a mistake”. He had heeded his High Lord’s order to stay away from her but everything from that night - his words, the look on her face - haunted him every night since.

“Elain” Azriel whispers as he comes to rise before her, the movement causing pain to radiate from his side from all the blows he took during their impromptu battle. A pained expression crosses Elain’s face as she looks at his side. “You’re hurt”.

“I will be fine, Elain. I just need some -“

“That’s why I called her. I felt your pain and I called Madja as soon as I could. I..” a sob escapes Elain as she recalls the earlier blinding pain exploding from her side as she sat in her rooms, awaiting news of the brothers safe return. Of his safe return.

“You…could feel my pain?” Azriel asks, eyes wide, surprise flickering across his face. “Yes” Elain answers, “I can still feel it, right here”. Elain’s hand gently touches Azriel’s right side. Her fingers delicately caressing the exact spot he felt his ribs crack during the fight. “I..I don’t know how…and before anyone asks, it wasn’t a vision”.

Azriel can only stare at the female in front of him. Beautiful, even with tears streaming down her face and eyes, red and puffy from crying, she was breathtakingly beautiful. He never needed words with her, and now, knowing that she could somehow feel him within her, he needed to be close to her.

Azriel closes the distance between them as Elain too, can only stare back at him. With his wind blown hair and dry blood freckling his face, he is the most devastatingly handsome male she’s ever known. Elain always saw him, all of the things no one else seemed to notice, and all of the things that they did but never dared to address. Knowing she could feel him, sense him and his needs within herself, she too felt the need to have him closer.

Elain wraps her arms around Azriel’s neck, as his arms wind around her waist, welcoming each other into their arms. His face nuzzles into her neck and breathes in her sweet scent. Home, she feels like home.

The sound of a throat clearing breaks everyone out of the stunned silence from Elain’s revelation and the tender moment unfolding in front of them. “Like I told you lot before, if anyone can sense if something’s amiss, it’s a mate”. Madja turns towards the sitting room. “Now, come along Spymaster, let’s take a look at those ribs”.

[nicawritesandwhines]

The Nephelle Philosophy

“[…] The most unlikely person can alter the course of history.” Azriel in chapter 29 of ACOWAR

How beautiful and poetic is having Azriel explain the Nephelle Philosophy and later on, Elain be the one who killed King Hybern and change the course of history? The lovely fawn that Azriel himself armed with his favorite dagger.

I also think is funny that Azriel’s words acts almost like a prophecy, mimicking Elain’s Seer powers! I wonder if it was intentional as a little pun?

[nicawritesandwhines]

HaahhahaHAHAHAHHAH

No Helen, he just walked out of a Yankee Candle store, don't be fooled!

[nicawritesandwhines]

I’m just gonna place this one riiiiight here. There. Perfect.

WIP: SWNL Bonus Chapter

“Do you know what I haven't been able to get out of my head, Elain?”

“What?” She breathed, running hands through his waves as he bent to drift his nose over her neck.

“Remember the day we shared a meal in town, and you had a vision?”

Elain thought back, brow furrowed. “What does that have to do with…”

Her eyes widened as her face went up in flames.

“Oh, no. I should never have told you that.”

Azriel pressed closer to her, bending to take a nipple into his mouth, rolling his tongue over it brazenly. She breathed a sigh of bliss.

“Do you know what I thought about, my cock hard as steel right there in the cafe?” He asked, straightening to drag fingers down the side of Elain’s neck, digging them in slightly and studying the way her flesh moved under them.

“No,” she breathed.

“The second you told me you write dirty, depraved words with your perfect fucking fingers,” he murmured, lifting her hand to suck one of those perfect fucking fingers into his mouth. She moaned quietly as he slid his tongue over it, sucking lightly. He pulled it from his mouth but kept his lips close to her fingers, speaking onto them.

“All I could think about was you, naked and prone, bound in my shadows, reading your filthy words aloud to me.”

[nicawritesandwhines]

It's all fun and games and laughing at BookTok until you can't get on AO3 anymore, as someone who likes both romance and fanfic.

[nicawritesandwhines]

I would also be up shit creek in this situation.

[nicawritesandwhines]

Elriel coded

you're my heaven on earth

[nicawritesandwhines]

My favorite headcanon in a fanfic!! @nikethestatue thank for this, love ❤️

A long and winding road

Elain cracked her knuckles and wiggled her fingers. It’s been a long time. So long, in fact, that she wasn’t even sure if she’d remember how to play the simplest of melodies.

She wasn’t even sure why there was a fortepiano in the River Estate. Feyre surely didn’t play. Elain doubted that Rhys did—at least she never saw him do it.

She and Nesta were taught of course when they were young girls. They all painted, danced, sang. Nesta wasn’t musically inclined in that she didn’t like to play, though she was capable. Elain always wondered if Nesta refused out of spite, and not because of lack of talent.

She ran her fingers over the polished keys and they yielded, producing a quiet sound. She didn’t press too hard. She smiled and sat behind the instrument, placing her hands on the keys the way she was taught. She stretched her fingers. Her hands looked awful. Scarred and scuffed, the nails short, the skin darkened by the sun, the palms calloused, the knuckles rough. What would her mother say if she saw Elain’s hands now? She’d be scandalized.

She started off with something easy. A lullaby that everyone knew. The melody rolled from under her fingers easily and happily.

Elain moved on to a folk song that the girls in the village sang when they baked bread in the communal oven.

She played a solstice song that she heard here in Velaris. Then another. And another.

‘Do you know the Dance of the Dunnan?’

She jerked, startled.

Azriel’s voice was behind her. She was surprised that she didn’t scent him. But maybe he hid his scent with his shadows. He did that sometimes, when he didn’t want to be discovered.

She didn’t respond.

He was behind her and now she felt him, his presence dark and looming.

It didn’t scare her. Never bothered her. The darkness and the stillness of him were always welcomed.

She tried to remember the song. Tentatively, she struck the keys and then asked ‘can you remind me?’

After a pause, he began humming.

She smiled. He loved humming. She loved listening to him. She wasn’t sure if he even realized that he was doing it. But she loved his voice—grating, but soothing. A man’s voice.

‘Like that?’ She asked softly, following his direction.

He listened attentively.

Then stepped closer.

He smelled so good. Pine and something cold and fresh and sharp.

She exhaled quietly.

‘Yes, like that,’ he murmured.

She continued playing. He continued humming.

Then, he gently laid his huge scarred palm over her hand. He didn’t press. It was as if he wanted to feel the movement of the music through her fingers. He stayed there, stooping over her, his breath fanning over her head. She could smell sugar on him. She tried not to giggle, knowing that the shadowsinger was sneaking biscuits and cream puffs when no one was watching.

She wondered if he realized that she left them out for him.

‘How about ‘Down the long road’?’ He asked.

She knew that one and played it confidently.

He sang, quietly, for her ears only. She sang along, even though her voice wasn’t as melodic.

They stayed together for a while like that. Playing and singing and recalling songs from her world and from his Illyrian camps.

Theirs was a long and winding road indeed.

[nicawritesandwhines]

Man begging on their knees. Oh, how I love their book is not even out yet and Elriel already graced us with this.

Like Water for Chocolate, Days of Being Wild, Les Félins

[nicawritesandwhines]

Azriel just looked at a bottle of Tylenol for a whole year and jerked himself to sleep thinking about Elain’s beautiful face while making sweet and freakiest love to her! That’s not mean he is falling in love! He’s just a weirdo!

Oh, dear…

How to explain man’s obsession for a younger audience?

Let’s just say that if you think is weird or repulsive for a man to pleasure himself to thoughts of only you and losing sleep looking at a gift you gave him last Christmas, maybe (just maybe) romance is not the genre you should be reading. Maybe you should come back to it once you are a bit older and more mature.

[nicawritesandwhines]

I can’t stay away, even in my dreams

I made this

Don’t steal or I will find you

No reposts.

“ I dream of you. In my dreams I see you and it’s the only places I’m not restricted, it’s the only moment I allow myself the freedom of loving you, touching you. But the dream always ends and my heart ache shattered one more at the mornings rise. This is why I hate sleeping, I’d rather be awake in a cruel reality where the pain is dull, than sleep and dream of your kindness and love and have to awake once more freshly knowing this terrible world without it.”

[nicawritesandwhines]

Okay, now look me in the eye and tell me if this is not Elain leaving the kitchen in the next family dinner and Azriel is just sitting there… like… obsessing?

PRIDE & PREJUDICE (2005) RIVALS (2024 - ) source

[nicawritesandwhines]

Friendly reminder:

Elain doesn’t need to explore the bond before she decides she doesn’t want it. She doesn’t need to give Lucien the time of day before deciding she doesn’t want him. In fact, she could go up to him the next time he’s in Velaris and say, “I reject the bond.” It’s as simple as that.

Hope this ✨helps!✨

[nicawritesandwhines]

You wanna know a meaningful conversation?

““But Elain blinked slowly. “You were in Hybern.”

“Yes.” It was all he could say.

“You betrayed us.”

He wished she’d shoved him out the window behind her. “It—it was a mistake.” Her eyes went frank and cold. “I was to be married in a few days.””

Now, here’s another:

“Elain’s brows twitched toward each other. “The queen—with the feathers of flame.” The shadowsinger angled his head.

Lucien murmured to me, eye still fixed on Elain, “Should we—does she need …?”

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien. Elain was staring at the spymaster now—unblinkingly. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.””

Yup. That happened. Pretty meaningful to me.

The “Elriel have never had a meaningful conversation” crowd is going to have a real rough time of it soon.

[nicawritesandwhines]

He spent a whole year looking at her gift and losing sleep because of her, next.

He gave her truthteller, next.