#ELAIN ARCHERON

[aurana-i]

Looking at you Nesta stans…👀

Acotar is so good when you don’t have random bitches in your ear telling you that every character is a terrible person and why

[duskcowboy]

“𝑰 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒃𝒆 (𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒓𝒆𝒅)

𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒆𝒏

𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕” ⋆₊⋆˚⋆⁺☀︎

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

@azrielappreciationweek | Belonging

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Azriel may have his found family by his side, but he’s still searching for where his heart belongs. He treasured his love for Mor for centuries, but then a sweet, doe-eyed seer swept in and his world was forever changed. After the kind of childhood Azriel had, I think he will find peace, comfort, and solace in the warmth of Elain’s love 😭 I can’t wait to finally read their love story (Sarah, please, I’m begging for this to be sooner rather than later 🙏🏼)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

𐙚 Art by : @/tessorange.art (insta)

𐙚 In collaboration with : @duskcowboy (me! 😆)

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Tess, I absolutely adored working with you on this piece 🥹 thank you for taking my vision and bringing it to life ♥️

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

[rae2velarisart]

Azriel Appreciation Week - Day 2 Scarred

The Kiss- Inspired by the painting by Gustav Klimt

I've always adored this painting and finally decided to make it for Elriel. The focus of their hands just melts my heart. Elain is a part of Azriel's healing story now and in the future, so an Elriel piece for his week is very appropriate. ❤️

Azriel's wings are made up of the signature triangles I usually use with him and the swirling shadows. His arm does have unique stars to incorporate the Night Court. Of course, he also has his siphons included. 🥰

All the flowers on Elain's dress are related to her from the books: lilies, begonias, violets, roses (I used wild roses), jasmine, and ivy.

I wanted to incorporate Elriel's dark and light theme with the sun and moon. 🥰❤️ I enjoyed making the different stars.

Lastly, the corners incorporate the three brothers and three sisters. ❤️❤️❤️

All characters belong to SJM and inspired by The Kiss painting by Gustav Klimt

Art be me 🥰

@azrielappreciationweek

[renatalouzadar]

[harperbrynne]

Imagine Lucien always lets Elain come first because spring comes before fall

[elriel-quotes]

And I think Elain—Elain would like it, too. Though she’d probably cling to Azriel, just to have some peace and quiet.”

I smiled at the thought—at how handsome they would be together.

A Court of Mist and Fury - Chapter 49

[azrielarcherondefenseattorney]

This whole false narrative of Azriel always wanting a mate is so funny because he has literally never said the word mate.

He only thought the word mate by calling lucien that in his mind instead of his name during his bonus chapter. The only time Azriel has even remotely mentioned being mated is wanting Elain to be his mate.

He has not once lamented about not having a mate before his bonus chapter where he wants ELAIN SPECIFICALLY. RHYSAND made an assumption about Azriels feelings towards Mor and a potential mating bond but we have no idea if thats how az felt about it.

Azriel would absolutely reject his mate to be with Elain. Anyone who truly knows his character knows this.

[starsreminisce]

I love that Elain and Lucien are on the same level in terms of their development and figuring out where they want to go, and how both their wants and needs align even without the mating bond to push the overarching story along.

Elain wants to help, and Lucien is reaching a point where he needs that help. Their story doesn't need any more than that to start, especially since they're already mates.

It's more interesting to me to read about Elain and Lucien discovering why they're mates and then falling in love in the process.

It's a formula SJM likes, and it's a formula that works for her.

[lovemyromance]

In order to show proof for Elriel, all I have to do is hand someone the books, as they are. No additional commentary required.

In order to argue for Gwynriel/Elucien, one has to:

- skip ACOFAS

- watch 30 slide shows

- turn Azriel into a fuckboy character who flits from woman to woman

- read TOG & CC

- read ONLY the 2nd half of the Azriel bonus chapter

- scour through internet archives to see one ambiguous deleted facebook post from 2017

- browse through SJM's deleted Pinterest

- call everyone and their mother an unreliable narrator

- watch 18 more TikTok's to prove how certain words that appear multiple times throughout the text for a variety of reasons - now mean a couple is mates

- ignore all of SJM's most recent interviews

- treat Elain like someone who is incapable of voicing her own wants and needs and is a fickle child

- ignore every Elriel moment and pretend they either only show lust or they only are siblings -> take your pick bc apparently both work despite being contradictory statements (unless you live in Alabama)

- lose your sense of feminism as you cheer for a man to get his happy ending at the expense of a woman

[greenleaf777]

Azriel week day 4 Paid time off

@azrielappreciationweek

For today i drew a headcanon I have.

When Azriel goes to be with his mother who lives in Rosehall which i think has a massive flower garden he brings a list of Elains favorite flowers hes gathered while listening to her talk the last few years to periodically bring her a bouquet.

Every time hes there he gushes to his mother about Elain, the beautiful brown eyed seer sister of the high lady. Tells her about the new things she grows in the garden, the new desserts shes baking, etc.

Today as they walk through he garden as he talks his mothers ear off about Elain, and how incredible she is, his mother turns to him and goes “You are in Love.” 🥰

[jasmineandcedar]

You already have me

Azriel's confession

An Elriel one shot (Elain’s POV)

In which Azriel resorts to poetry and confesses his devotion to Elain.

Warning: sexual content (not explicit)

-----

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting a cool, pearly glow over the river house. Moonlight spilled through the windowpanes like liquid silk, painting every contour in shades of blue and silver. Even the shadows seemed to take on hues of deepest indigo, pooling in every corner like dark ink.

Elain stepped into her room, pausing at the threshold and closing her eyes. A gentle breeze stirred the curtains, carrying with it the deep scent of night-chilled mist and cedar. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know he was there. Tilting her head slightly, a faint smile bloomed across her face. Tonight, that familiar scent was laced with something darker, wilder.

When Elain finally opened her eyes, they found his at once.

Azriel stood by the window, half veiled in shadows, the moonlight catching on his dark hair like the silvery gleam of a raven’s wing.

They watched each other in silence. For silence was their language—the language of the unspoken longing that clung to the air around them, between them, in every space they shared.

Elain noticed then, the freshly picked flowers resting on her pillow—delicate and pale blossoms of the same shade of white as her nightgown—like silver moonlight woven into bloom. She crossed the room on light steps, her bare feet gliding over the cold, polished floor. The thin, lacy fabric of her nightgown danced over her skin with every step.

Without breaking Azriel’s gaze, she trailed her fingertips over the bedding, feeling the crisp linen beneath her touch. Finally, she lowered her eyes to carefully pick up the pale flowers. Bringing them to her nose, she let the sweet scent of jasmine envelop her. Her heart clenched as she felt the ache of his longing in the fragile petals.

He had thought of her.

“They’re lovely,” she said quietly.

It was a bittersweet, intimate gesture—a piece of his inner world, offered in secret defiance of the outer world’s attempts to keep them apart. The anguish of it all twisted something deep inside her, reigniting that dull, persistent ache that threatened to consume her if she dwelled on it.

Elain beheld the flowers for a long time, gently twirling the fragile stems between her fingers and savouring their subtle scent as the night stretched around them.

She took a deep breath, then whispered into the stillness of the night.

“It should have been you.”

Azriel didn’t speak, but Elain knew the intensity in his gaze was edged with unspoken desire. It was raw, unguarded, just like she knew he was beneath those shadows that hid him.

She finally met his gaze and held it, well aware he needed her to. Azriel made no effort to hide the pain in his eyes—the pain that mirrored her own. There had never been any pretense between them, no veil to obscure the cruelty of their fate.

The room fell still again—into a heavy, intimate tranquility that held all that unspoken desire between them. The only sound was the peaceful hum of the breeze stirring the curtains, like a sigh of longing from the night itself.

When Elain spoke again, her words were as fragile as the flower stems she still held between her fingertips.

“What would you do?” she asked, barely more than a whisper. The question hung in the air like morning’s mist. “If it had been you?”

Words she had carried in her heart for too long—the heart that pounded against her ribcage, like the desperate wingbeats of a caged bird.

Azriel’s gaze thawed, the tension in his features melting into warmth.

“I would cherish you,” he said at last, his tone hoarse, as if the words scraped against the rawness of his heart.

He pushed off the windowsill in one seamless motion—like a shadow detaching from a wall. He approached her with a measured grace, the space between them narrowing with each step until Elain could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“But my intentions go far beyond that,” he said in a voice soft as night.

Azriel stopped in front of her, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath caress her skin. His gaze cradled hers, as it always had, uncovering all the truths she hid from the world around them.

“Should you allow it, I would revere every inch of you,” Azriel murmured in a quiet, intimate whisper. “I would fall to my knees, and worship every curve, every freckle kissed by the sun—until you see the beauty I see every time I look at you.”

That gaze that cradled hers didn’t waver. Neither did hers.

With aching reverence, Azriel let his fingers glide down her arm, skimming over the thin fabric of her nightgown. Elain felt the warmth of his touch seep through the light fabric, sinking into her skin. Her pulse fluttered wildly, every beat an echo of where his touch had been.

“I would whisper praise against your skin,” he breathed, his devotion etched in every syllable. “Until you ache for what I long to give you.”

Azriel lifted a hand and slowly swept her hair behind her shoulder. His eyes flickered down, tracing the elegant line of her neck, bared to the cool night air—and to the heat of his gaze. When that gaze met hers again, it was a molten swirl of embers and emeralds.

“Only then would I unveil you fully to me,” he murmured, that hazel swirl locked on her. “Until there was nothing between us.”

His eyes drifted back to her exposed skin, and Elain felt a flush of warmth spread in the wake of his gaze. Azriel’s fingers traced the finespun neckline of her nightgown where the fabric met her skin. He eased the thin lace aside, baring the small dip of her collarbone. Elain felt as vulnerable as the petals still in her grasp, yet beneath his touch, she had always found a sanctuary. Her faint gasp filled the air between them as Azriel lowered his head, his lips brushing her skin as softly as the beat of a butterfly's wing. Elain's eyes drifted shut, and the sensation washed over her like the first touch of sunlight after the darkest of nights.

“I would reveal your beauty inch by inch,” Azriel murmured, carefully easing the nightgown off her shoulder. “And show you the depth of my devotion.”

Elain shivered when the cool night air kissed her bare skin, but then his lips followed, warm and soft, as he pressed them to the gentle curve of her shoulder.

“I would adorn your skin with the kisses you deserve,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her collarbone, lingering as if to etch the memory of it into his very being, “and commit your perfection to memory.”

Elain’s fingers found the fabric of Azriel’s shirt, soft against the unyielding strength beneath. She clutched it tightly, like the roots of a plant cling to the earth.

He pressed his lips to the side of her neck. Elain felt her pulse flutter beneath his lips, beating like a delicate bird’s wings. He traced a slow, reverent path of kisses up the graceful curve of her neck. When his lips brushed the sensitive spot just below her ear, a shiver rippled through her.

Elain took a small step towards him, her body instinctively seeking him, and Azriel moved with her, as shadows move with the sun.

“And when I finally take you,” he whispered against her skin, his longing carried on the heat of his breath, “I will listen for every catch in your breath, drink in every gasp, savour every moan.”

Elain's head fell back as she surrendered to his touch—as if the weight of his words alone could unravel her. The room seemed to hold its breath with her when he trailed kisses along her jaw.

“I will learn the song of your body,” Azriel murmured, voice low and thick with desire. “Uncover the secrets of your skin.”

He pressed another kiss to her neck, so tenderly it stole the air from her lungs. Then his lips lingered again at that spot just below her ear, unmoving, as if he were listening for those secret confessions her body whispered to him alone.

“Until I know you more intimately than I know myself.”

Azriel swept one hand into her hair, his fingers weaving through the silken waves of golden brown. He tilted her head to the side, revealing the delicate slope of her neck, in a gesture that was both a plea and a command. Elain’s chest rose in a shivering gasp, but she arched her neck further in silent answer. Azriel dipped his head lower, brushing his lips to the hollow of her throat, before trailing featherlight kisses up her sensitive skin, pausing just beneath her jaw where her pulse thrummed with secret need.

Elain felt him inhale with her.

“Until I hold your pleasure in my hand,” Azriel said on the exhale. “And you’re trembling beneath me, yearning for release.”

He drew closer still, so close that his lips brushed her ear.

“And when that moment comes,” he promised, and Elain tightened her grip on his shirt, “I will I let you come undone in my arms.”

He pulled back slightly, just enough to cradle her gaze in his again. The moonlight caught the gold flecks in his hazel eyes, making them glow like embers in the dark, smoldering with a heat that could devour them both if they surrendered to it.

Azriel slanted his lips over hers in the ghost of a kiss. Elain felt the world around her shrink into this singular, sacred point of contact—where his breath became hers, her every inhale a plea, every exhale a yielding surrender.

“And when you come undone,” he said, his lips so close to hers that Elain felt the tremble of every syllable, “it will be with my name on your lips.”

“Azriel,” Elain breathed, the sound slipping out of her in a faint, desperate plea that carried all the unspoken longings of her fluttering heart.

“Just like that,” he whispered against her lips, his voice raw and broken with a need that echoed her own.

They lingered there, their breaths entwined in the shared rhythm of that silent song only they seemed able to hear—as if they had always moved to the same quiet cadence of life.

Azriel’s hand remained in her hair, his fingers threading gently through her silken curls. His free hand moved to cup her cheek, before coming to rest at the base of her neck. His thumb drew slow, soothing strokes along her skin, in the way his touch always spoke of a quiet devotion language could never capture. Elain’s fingers were still curled into the fabric of his shirt, clinging to the steady warmth of his body that grounded her beating heart.

“It should have been you,” Elain repeated desperately, voice quivering on an inhale as if the air itself was too heavy. “It would have been you.”

That gaze that cradled hers softened again, smoldering heat giving way to that tenderness that made her chest tighten. He cupped her face between his hands, embracing her as if she were the most precious thing he had ever held.

“You already have me,” he said at last, before leaning down to press a kiss to her lips—like a seal to his silent vow.

[breathetoseethetruth]

Are there actually any Acotar fans who like all three Archeron sisters?

[rae2velarisart]

How much do I love Elriel?

This much.

I love them this much and so much more.

Hopefully, there will be many more to come.

❤️❤️❤️ 🥰❤️

[elainarcheronweek]

Hi team Elain! We've received a few messages and asks across SM platforms regarding the dates for 2025, so we wanted to make an official post.

Elain Archeron Week will return from the 31st August to 6th September, 2025. We cannot wait to see you then! 🌹🌱🌸🌿🪻

[winnie-the-monster]

But Elain was staring over Nesta’s shoulder. At Lucien—whose face she had finally taken in.

Dark brown eyes met one eye of russet and one of metal. Nesta was still weeping, still raging, still inspecting Elain—Lucien’s hands slackened at his sides.

His voice broke as he whispered to Elain, “You’re my mate?”

Things I wanna know #253640: what was going on through Elain’s and Lucien’s mind during this moment. I need to know!

[stargirlfeyre]

“Elain doesn’t belong in the Night Court because Cassian said she looked bad in black” Cassian also said that Nesta would be better off thrown in the CoN so his opinions about where these sisters “belong” is meaningless to me.