#Shadows Need Some Light {Elriel} | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mirrorballpages · 2 months ago

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Fairytales for Elriel Month

The townhouse was quiet, the late morning light spilling through the sitting room windows in golden streaks. Azriel had planned to stop by only briefly. To check in, maybe have a cup of tea before heading out on a mission. He had not planned to find Elain there, curled up in the corner of the couch, utterly lost in a book. At first, he didn’t think much of it. Elain reading wasn’t unusual. Elain so absorbed in something that she didn’t notice him enter wasn’t unusual. What was unusual—and highly suspicious—was the way she snapped the book shut the moment she saw him.

Azriel stilled. His instincts, honed over centuries of war, of spying, of reading the smallest of movements, instantly told him one thing: She was hiding something. A slow smirk curled at the corner of his lips. "Interesting choice of reading."

Elain clutched the book to her chest. "It’s just a novel."

Azriel hummed, stepping closer. "Is it?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, but her blush betrayed her. Azriel didn’t need his shadows to tell him the truth. He already knew. And Mother above, he was going to enjoy this. He waited, standing at the edge of the room, watching her. Elain refused to meet his gaze, focusing instead on the cover of the book, as if she could will it into disappearing.

Azriel tilted his head slightly. "Which one is it?"

She hesitated. And that was all the answer he needed.

"The Duke’s Wicked Obsession?" he guessed, mock thoughtful.

Her blush deepened.

"Or is it Moonlight Desires?" His voice dropped slightly, all smooth amusement.

Elain groaned, burying her face behind the book. "Azriel."

"I’m just curious." He stepped closer, the corner of his mouth twitching. "I’ve never known you to be interested in… ducal obsessions."

Elain whipped her head up, glaring now. "It’s just a story."

"Of course." He let his smirk grow. "A story about a brooding duke who follows a woman across the country because he’s so obsessed with her he can’t sleep at night?"

Elain made another strangled noise. "You are insufferable."

"Or a masked stranger who is fated to love the heroine after just one dance?"

Elain looked one breath away from throwing the book at him. Azriel chuckled, eyes gleaming. He was enjoying this far too much.

She straightened, regaining some of her composure. "What’s wrong with them?"

Azriel lifted a brow. "Nothing at all. I’m just learning new things about you."

She huffed, crossing her arms. "And what exactly have you learned?"

He let the silence stretch between them before saying, "That you enjoy a bit of obsession in your romances."

Her lips parted slightly, her blush creeping down her neck. Azriel waited. Then, in a quiet, challenging voice, she said, "Would you prefer I read about spies instead?"

Azriel blinked. Elain tilted her head, eyes gleaming with something sharp, knowing. "Perhaps something about a mysterious, brooding male who lurks in the shadows, always watching, never letting himself be seen?"

Azriel’s smirk faltered. Elain smiled sweetly. "You wouldn’t happen to have any recommendations, would you?"

Azriel just stared at her, his usual smooth confidence suddenly abandoning him entirely. Elain laughed softly, flipping open her book again. "That’s what I thought."

And Mother above, Azriel knew he had just lost this battle.

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The next time he found her reading, he did not tease. Not outright. But as he sat in the armchair across from her, pretending to read his own book, he couldn’t help but watch her. The way her eyes darted over the page, the way her lips parted slightly, the way her cheeks turned pink every now and then. He was dying to know.

So, after a long silence, he asked, "Why do you like them?"

Elain looked up, startled. "What?"

"The books." He gestured toward her latest romance. "What do you like about them?"

Elain hesitated. For a moment, he thought she might refuse to answer. But then, she surprised him. She set the book down on her lap, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "They always end happily. No matter what happens," she continued softly, "no matter the obstacles, the longing, the heartbreak… the characters always find each other in the end."

Azriel didn’t move. Because of course. Of course Elain Archeron, who had lived a life filled with uncertainty and heartbreak and loss, would crave stories where love always won.

She smiled, almost shyly. "I like knowing that, in the end, they’ll choose each other."

Something tightened in Azriel’s chest. Because wasn’t that what he had spent his whole life convincing himself he couldn’t have? A love that would choose him back. He didn’t answer right away. Didn’t know how to. So he just watched her, watched the way the firelight danced across her face, the way she waited for his response as if his opinion actually mattered. And then, before he could stop himself, before he could think better of it—

"Tell me your favorite part."

Elain blinked. "What?"

Azriel gestured to the book in her hands. "Read me your favorite part."

Elain stared at him. Then, slowly—so slowly—she flipped through the pages. Evangeline had spent years perfecting the art of ignoring Dorian Blackwell. It was easy, at first. Ignoring his dark, unreadable eyes whenever they found hers across ballrooms. Ignoring the way his presence always seemed to press against her skin, even from across a room.

Ignoring the fact that, no matter how far she ran, no matter how many times she insisted she did not want him— He never let her go.

And now, here he was. Again. A storm standing in the doorway of her cottage, his broad frame drenched from the rain, his cravat undone, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Evangeline." His voice was low, hoarse. She did not move from where she stood by the fire. Did not let herself tremble.

"You should not be here," she said quietly. "You should be in London, playing the part of the cold, untouchable Duke."

His lips curled slightly, but there was no humor in it. "You have always misunderstood me, Evangeline."

"Have I?" she challenged. He took a step closer. Then another. Evangeline’s pulse hammered.

"You think I follow you because I enjoy the chase?" Dorian’s voice was softer now, but there was something dangerous beneath it—something frayed, something breaking. "Because it is sport?"

Her throat worked. "What else could it be?"

He let out a low, rough breath. Then—he was there. Close enough that she could see the gold flecks in his eyes, could see the way his jaw clenched, as if restraining something too big, too consuming.

And then—softly, like a confession, like something that cost him everything— "I have been in love with you since the moment you first defied me."

Evangeline stilled.

Dorian’s hands flexed at his sides, as if he ached to touch her. "Since the moment you looked me in the eye and told me I was not the man for you."

Her breath came too fast, too sharp.

"You are cruel," she whispered.

A muscle in his jaw jumped. "Perhaps. But not with this. Never with this."

She shook her head. This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be. "You are obsessed with winning. You cannot love me."

Dorian exhaled sharply, then—before she could move, before she could breathe—

He dropped to his knees. Evangeline gasped.

Because Dorian Blackwell, the untouchable, unreadable Duke of Thornhaven, the man whose name made others tremble, was kneeling before her. His head bowed. His hands fisted against his thighs.

"Say the word," he murmured. "Tell me to leave, and I will. Tell me you do not feel this, and I will never come back."

Evangeline’s chest heaved. But Dorian lifted his gaze then, and the words tangled in her throat.

Because his eyes—gods, his eyes. They were not cold. Not calculating. Not the eyes of a man playing a game. They were raw. Unraveled.

Wrecked.

And Evangeline knew.

Knew that this was not about winning. Knew that this was not obsession, not pursuit. Knew, with terrifying, unshakable certainty, that this man loved her.

Had loved her for longer than she could fathom.

And she—she did not know how to stop herself from loving him back.

Azriel sat back, listening. And he wasn’t sure when he started watching her lips instead of the words. Wasn’t sure when the teasing had stopped and something heavier had settled between them. But when she finally lifted her gaze, her breath catching slightly at whatever she saw in his expression— Azriel, Spymaster of the Night Court, a male who had spent centuries unearthing the darkest secrets in Prythian, was currently trying to process the fact that he had just heard a scene where a brooding, untouchable Duke got on his knees for the woman he loved.

He knew. He was in more trouble than he had ever realized.

@elriel-month

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courtofblooming · 1 year ago

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favorite elriel quotes ! 💭ྀིྀིྀ

art by: stephdaydreams & trxxvon_

“A faint smile bloomed upon Azriel’s mouth as he noticed Elain’s fingers white-knuckled on that fork, but he kept silent” — acomaf

“Elain said to Azriel, perhaps the only two civilized ones here, “Can you truly fly? “Yes. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.” “That’s very beautiful,” she said — acomaf

“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.” — acomaf

“Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. He, too, wore his Illyrian armor, Elain’s golden-brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders.” — acowar

“He set her down gently on the foyer carpet, having carried her in through the front door. Elain peered up at his patient, solemn face. Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” — acowar

“She seemed so small before him, so fragile compared to the scales of his fighting leathers, the breadth of his shoulders. The wings peeking over them. But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded — just once.” — acowar

“Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.” — acowar

“Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.” — acowar

“Already dressed for the Hewn City — the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. “Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” — acowar

“What if — I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden —“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?” — acowar

“Can I set you up in the garden? The herbs you planted are coming in nicely.” “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand.” — acowar

“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.” — acowar

“It made sense, I supposed, that Azriel alone had listened to her. The male who heard things others could not … Perhaps he, too, had suffered as Elain had before he understood what gift he possessed.” — acowar

“While shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide-eyed at the spymaster’s display.” — acowar

“But Azriel asked softly, “What about Elain?” “From the shadows near the entrance to the tent, Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” — acowar

“Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows. Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.” — acowar

“I shifted my face back into my own, raising a hand to my lips as Azriel knelt before her.” “Azriel gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Are you hurt?” “She shook her head, devouring the sight of him as if not quite believing it. “You came for me.” The shadowsinger only inclined his head.” — acowar

“Azriel scooped up Elain, looping her bound arms around his neck. “Hold tight,” he ordered her, “and don’t make a sound.” — acowar

“The gray light of morning had broken over the world, mist clinging to our ankles as we headed into that camp, Azriel still cradling Elain to his chest.” — acowar

“Rhys lunged for Azriel, taking Elain from him and gently setting my sister down. Azriel rasped, swaying on his feet, “We need Helion to get these chains off her.” Yet Elain didn’t seem to notice them as she rose up on her toes and kissed the shadowsinger’s cheek.” — acowar

“Azriel, still limping, merely nudged aside Cassian and extended another option. “This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.” “Elain’s eyes widened at the obsidian-hilted blade in Azriel’s scarred hand. The runes on the dark scabbard.” — acowar

“It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said, the midday sun devoured by the dark blade. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.” He gently took her hand and pressed the hilt of the legendary blade into it. “It will serve you well.” — acowar

“Cassian gawked at Azriel, and I wondered how often Azriel had lent out that blade — Never, Rhys said from where he finished buckling on his own weapons against the side of the wagon. I have never once seen Azriel let another person touch that knife.” — acowar

“Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade.” “I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.” — acowar

“That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room. “I would like to build a garden,” she declared. “After all of this … I think the world needs more gardens.” — acowar

“Don’t,” Elain said flatly, starting once more into a walk, veils of steam drifting past her shoulders from the roasted rosemary potatoes in her hands, as if they were Azriel’s shadows. “She won’t listen.” — acofas

“But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, “Sit. I’ll take care of it.” One moment, his hand was spearing toward the serving spoon. The next, it was stopped, Azriel’s scarred fingers wrapped around his wrist. “Wait,” Azriel said, nothing but command in his voice.” — acofas

“Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. “Please don’t wait on my account,” she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.” — acofas

“The shadowsinger was clad in a black jacket and pants similar to Rhysand’s — He still wore his Siphons atop either hand, and shadows trailed his footsteps, curling like swirled embers. Especially as he gently said to my sister, “Happy Solstice.” Elain turned from the snow falling in the darkness beyond and smiled slightly. “I’ve never participated in one of these.” — acofas

“The shadowsinger’s brows lifted, but his scarred hand extended to take the present. Elain turned from where she’d been speaking to Nesta. “Oh, that’s from me.” “I had Madja make it for me,” Elain explained. Azriel’s brows narrowed at the mention of the family’s preferred healer. “It’s a powder to mix in with any drink.” — acofas

“Elain bit her lip and then smiled sheepishly. “It’s for the headaches everyone always gives you. Since you rub your temples so often.” — acofas

“Then Azriel tipped his head back and laughed. I’d never heard such a sound, deep and joyous. Cassian and Rhys joined him, the former grabbing the glass bottle from Azriel’s hand and examining it. “Brilliant,” Cassian said. — acofas

“Elain smiled again, ducking her head. Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald. “This will be invaluable.” — acofas

“It was three by the time the others went to bed. Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight.” — acofas

“Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened.” — acosf

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain's face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike.” — acosf

“Feyre said, “We won’t allow any harm to come to Elain. Rhys warded her this morning, and we have eyes on her at all times.” “Eyes can be blinded,” Nesta said. “Not the ones under my command,” Azriel said with soft menace.” — acosf

“Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.” — acosf

“Nesta met the shadowsinger's stare and he gave her a nod. Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain's breath caught slightly.” — acosf

“The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat.” — acosf

“Az tried not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift. She hadn't bought her mate a present. But she'd gotten Azriel one last year — a headache powder he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use, but just to look at. Which he'd done every night he'd slept there. Or attempted to sleep there.” — acosf

“Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.” — acosf

“But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see...He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.” — acosf

“The golden necklace seemed ordinary — its chain unremarkable, the amulet tiny. It was a small, flat rose fashioned of stained glass, designed so that when held to the light, the true depth of the colors would become visible. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.” — acosf

“It's beautiful," she whispered, lifting it from the box. The golden faelight shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm glowing with hues of red and pink and white. Azriel let his shadows whisk away the box as she said softly, "Put it on me?" — acosf

“His head went quiet. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her long, creamy neck.” — acosf

“He knew it was wrong, but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a long time fastening the clasp.” — acosf

“It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. Wrong - it was so wrong. He didn't care.” — acosf

“He needed to know what the skin of her neck tasted like. What those perfect lips tasted like. Her breasts. Her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue” — acosf

“Elain bit her lower lip, and it took every ounce of Azriel's restraint to keep from putting his own teeth there.” "I should go," Elain said, but made no move to leave. “Yes," he said, his thumb sweeping in long strokes along the side of her throat.” — acosf

“Her arousal drifted up to him, and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head at the sweet scent. He'd beg on his knees for a chance to taste it. But Azriel just stroked her neck again.” — acosf

“Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open that he knew she had no idea that he had done unspeakable things far beyond their scars.” — acosf

"Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them.” — acosf

“Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.” “Offer and permission.” — acosf

“Rhys's voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain's sweet mouth.”

“But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it.”

“He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers.” — acosf

“What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another.” — acosf

the end.

#elriel #pro elain #pro elriel #elain archeron #acotar 5 #acotar #acotar quotes #elain archeron x azriel #azriel #elriel supremacy #elain x azriel #acomaf #acowar #acofas

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cassianfanclub · 3 months ago

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Sick of Elriels saying Gwynriel have no moments in the series except for bonus content.

What is this then?

“Our stories are worth telling.” (Gwyn book)

“I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break me.” (Similar to Azriel tell himself nothing break him when he was in dark. Gwyn is light)

Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “What do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. (Azriel’s shadows dancing! We don’t need bonus!)

Cassian glanced over at Az, but his attention was fixed on the young priestess, admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face. (Showing Azriel’s attention will always be Gwyn from this moment)

Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. “See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,” she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. “You have no idea what you just started,” she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. “Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?” Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. “You’re the new ribbon, Az.” (THE BIGGEST HINT OF ALL!)

If not foreshadowing for Gwynriel?

Elriels are confusng confusing themselfs. They are the ones with none content.

Gwynriel remains unique and I can’t wait for Gwynriel to win the bracket BLOOMSBURY announced!

#GwynrielMay2025

Look, at this point, nothing I say will change your mind.

I’m so glad these quotes bring you some type of joy. Maybe Elriel quotes will also bring you joy once you read their book.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #i thought it was obvious

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merymoonbeam · 1 year ago

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Possible Elriel plot points for the next ACOTAR book

First of all... I'm not saying this is all true. Just my own observation and link to theories that connect to stuff. So just try to enjoy.

We will go by topic. This is LONG. You have been warned.

1.Crossover

we will divide this into different topics.

a.the timeline

In Hosab Azriel carried Bryce to a house and we had this scene.

He gave no warning as he hauled her over a shoulder and tromped down a set of stairs before entering somewhere … nice-smelling. Roses? Bread? They ate bread in Hel? Had flowers? A dark, cold world, the Asteri had said in their notes on the planet.

We know it is town house. Here is the post that explains it. > Town House

And from Acosf we know that it was supposed to be empty.

“But why live in this dump, when the town house was sitting empty?” (Acosf)

but in Hofas when Rhys comes Bryce is taken to Hewn City prisons.

“What world is this?” Bryce rasped, the words gravelly. After Ruhn’s body double had introduced himself in that lovely, cozy foyer, he’d grabbed her hand. The strength of his grip, the brush of his calluses against her skin had been the only solid things as wind and darkness had roared around them, the world dropping away—and then there was only solid rock and dim lighting. She’d been brought to a palace carved beneath a mountain, and then down the narrow stairs to this dungeon. Where he’d pointed to the lone chair in the center of the room in silent command.

so we dont touch on the topic that the town house that was supposed to be empty is lived in and is smelling of roses and bread. So to me it looks like they are keeping the acotar plots in acotar and cc plots in cc. So they are not gonna reveal who lives in there in another series so...who lives there?

to me it looks like bryce falling into their world will be in the same timeline as acotar5. we will see through elain or azriel's(probably him) point of view what goes down.

b. the horn-fourth dread trove

In acosf we learn what they are.

Cassian nodded into the ensuing silence. Nesta found herself asking, “What’s the Dread Trove?” Amren’s eyes glowed with a remnant of her power. “The Cauldron Made many objects of power, long ago, forging weapons of unrivaled might. Most were lost to history and war, and when I went into the Prison, only three remained. At the time, some claimed there were four, or that the fourth had been Unmade, but today’s legends only tell of three.”

and in the same book we learn there is indeed a fourth one.

A fourth object lay on the altar, veiled in shadow. But she couldn’t make out more than a gleam of age-worn bone—

in hofas we learn that it is the horn. (ngl I hate this bc acosf timeline and hofas timeline of the past doesnt match so sarah def changed some stuff so..........)

And then she took the Trove for herself. Theia sat, enthroned, the Harp and Horn beside her, the Mask in her lap, and the Crown atop her head.

again goes with the whole same timeline thing. we are gonna learn through elain or azriel that fourth dread trove is tattooed on some girl from another world. Again imo this needs to be mentioned bc making dread troves a big part of nesta's book(and making them so dangerous) and in the next book acting as if some other girl having is not important?? doesnt make sense to me.

c. Cauldron and Ramiel

in hofas we learn that Cauldron sits on top of Ramiel.

“The Cauldron,” Nesta said hours later, pointing to yet another carving on the wall. It indeed showed a giant cauldron, perched atop what seemed to be a barren mountain peak with three stars above it. Azriel halted, angling his head. “That’s Ramiel.” At Bryce’s questioning look, he explained, “A mountain sacred to the Illyrians.”

And from Acosf we know that nobody went to look at what lies under ramiel. Sure enough Eris says "secrets". Maybe like daglan secrets???

Eris shrugged, and Nesta knew Cassian monitored his every breath. “There are three of them, you know. Sister peaks. This one, the mountain called the Prison, and the one the Illyrian brutes call Ramiel. All bald, barren mountains at odds with those around them.”

Eris gave him a mocking smile, but continued, “Unsurprisingly, the Illyrians were never curious enough to see what secrets lie beneath Ramiel. If it, too, was carved up like the others by ancient hands.”

and Vesperus says this in hofas.

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.” “There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly. “Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.”

What if there is more to under ramiel than we thought? What if its a secret Daglan hideout? I went into detail and what could have inspired it in my Wild Hunt post if you want to read it.

also the red part in thw quote...cue in acowar elain:

Elain only turned toward the sunny windows again, the light dancing in her hair. “Will I hear the earthworms writhing through the soil? Or the stretching of roots? Will the bird of fire come to sit in the trees and watch me?”(acowar)

we learn that Asteri corrupted the Cauldron in hofas. So this come in handy for the whole mating bond topic of this whole post so Im leaving it for that.

The Cauldron was of our world, our heritage. But upon arriving here, the Daglan captured it and used their powers to warp it. To turn it from what it had been into something deadlier. No longer just a tool of creation, but of destruction. And the horrors it produced … those, too, my parents would turn to their advantage.(hofas)

Also we know from acosf that Enalius tried to stop the "enemy" from reaching the stone on top of Ramiel.

Emerie’s eyes shone. “Long ago—so long ago they don’t even have a precise date for it—a great war was fought between the Fae and the ancient beings who oppressed them. One of its key battles was here, in these mountains. Our forces were battered and outnumbered, and for some reason, the enemy was desperate to reach the stone at the top of Ramiel. We were never taught the reason why; I think it’s been forgotten. But a young Illyrian warrior named Enalius held the line against the enemy soldiers for days. He found a natural archway of stone amongst the tangle of boulders and made that his bottleneck. He died in the end, but he held off the enemy long enough for our allies to reach us. This Rite is all to honor him. So much of the history has been lost, but the memory of his bravery remains.”

so probably they were trying to reach cauldron as it was on top of it. Or maybe the ramiel stone as it seems to heal too. I did go into whole detail in the post I linked about wild hunt. also in this one

Also in the first three acotar books we learn about Book of breathings.

In acomaf we learn that book of breathings was made to control the cauldron.

“When the Cauldron was made,” the carver interrupted, “its dark maker used the last of the molten ore to forge a book. The Book of Breathings. In it, written between the carved words, are the spells to negate the Cauldron’s power—or control it wholly. But after the War, it was split into two pieces. One went to the Fae, one to the six human queens. It was part of the Treaty, purely symbolic, as the Cauldron had been lost for millennia and considered mere myth. The Book was believed harmless, because like calls to like—and only that which was Made can speak those spells and summon its power. No creature born of the earth may wield it, so the High Lords and humans dismissed it as little more than a historical heirloom, but if the Book were in the hands of something reforged … You would have to test such a theory, of course—but … it might be possible.” (acomaf)

So...only made can use its magic.

Made = Feyre , Nesta and Elain

And later in the book we learn that the book is written in Holy Tongue—Leshon Hakodesh.

She stared and stared at the Book—as if it were a ghost, as if it were a miracle—and said, “It is the Leshon Hakodesh. The Holy Tongue.” Those quicksilver eyes shifted to Rhysand, and I realized she’d understood, too, why she’d gone. Rhysand said, “I heard a legend that it was written in a tongue of mighty beings who feared the Cauldron’s power and made the Book to combat it. Mighty beings who were here … and then vanished. You are the only one who can uncode it.” (acomaf)

Mighty beings: Daglan/Asteri

and in hofas we learn that...It is written in the language of the asteri.

Amren turned to Rhysand and said in that new, strange language—their language: “The glowing letters inked on her back … they’re the same as those in the Book of Breathings.” (hofas)

Bryce's tattoo is in the holy language.

And later in hofas Rigelus says that it was his people's language.

“I can teach you things you’ve never even dreamed of,” Rigelus promised. “The language inked on your back—it is our language. From our home world. I can teach you how to wield it. Any world might be open to you, Bryce Quinlan. Name the world, and it shall be yours.”(hofas)

So the book of breathings can control cauldron and it can "open any world" to who can wield it.

and in the first crescent city book...the book of breathings is in crescent city world. In jesiba's library.

Micah loomed over her. She stretched her arm out—toward the shelf. Her tingling fingers brushed over the titles. On the Divine Number; The Walking Dead; The Book of Breathings; The Queen with Many Faces …

do we need book of breathings back as it was mentioned it is in the language of the asteri?

Also in acowar we learn that cauldron has void in it.

when Feyre broke the Cauldron void was coming out of it.

I managed to stand. To take one step before I felt it. The … thing in the Cauldron. Or lack of it. It was lack and substance, absence and presence. And … it was leaking into the world.I dared a step toward it. And what I beheld in those ruins of the Cauldron… It was a void. But also not a void—a growth.It did not belong here. Belong anywhere. (acowar)

And then this reminded me of what Apollion said about void in hosab

The darkness paused. “You are impertinent as well. Do you not know where I come from? My father was the Void, the Being That Existed Before. Chaos was his bride and my dam. It is to them that we shall all one day return, and their mighty powers that run in my blood.”

@silverlinedeyes made a post about Void and Elain connection awhile back (that’s where my fascination with the void comes from lololl) > The void post

in Hofas we learn that Daglan/Asteri made the Cauldron a kill switch.

“Once we left our home world, our powers began to dim. Too late, we realized that we had been dependent on our land’s inherent magic. The magic in other worlds was not potent enough. Yet we could not find the way back home. Those of us who ventured here found ways to amplify that power, thanks to the gifts of the land. We pooled our power, and imbued those gifts into the Cauldron so that it would work our will. We Made the Trove from it. And then bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.” Solas. “So destroy the Cauldron …” “And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.”

So in hofas we learned about thin places...

“No,” Aidas agreed. “But Helena knew that Midgard possessed its own magic. A raw, weaker sort of magic than that in her home world, but one that could be potent in high concentrations. She learned that it flowed across the world in great highways, natural conduits for magic.” “Ley lines,” Bryce breathed. Aidas nodded. “These lines are capable of moving magic, but also carrying communications across great distances.” Like those between the Gates of Crescent City, the way she’d spoken to Danika the day she’d made the Drop. “There are ley lines across the whole of the universe. And the planets—like Midgard, like Hel, like the home world of the Fae—atop those lines are joined by time and space and the Void itself. It thins the veils separating us. The Asteri have long chosen worlds that are on the ley lines for that exact purpose. It made it easier to move between them, to colonize those planets. There are certain places on each of these worlds where the most ley lines overlap, and thus the barrier between worlds is at its weakest.” Everything slotted together. “Thin places,” Bryce said with sudden certainty. “Precisely,” Apollion answered for Aidas with an approving nod. “The Northern Rift, the Southern Rift—both lie atop a tremendous knot of ley lines. And while those under Avallen are not as strong, the island is unique as a thin place thanks to the presence of black salt—which ties it to Hel.” “And the mists?” Hunt asked. “What’s the deal with them?” “The mists are a result of the ley lines’ power,” Aidas said. “They’re an indication of a thin place. Hoping to find a ley line strong enough to help her transfer and hide Theia’s power, Helena sent a fleet of Fae with earth magic to scour every misty place they could find on Midgard. When they told her of a place wreathed in mists so thick they could not pierce them, Helena went to investigate. The mists parted for her—as if they had been waiting. She found the small network of caves on Avallen … and the black salt beneath the surface.” (hofas)

It is long but what we get from this is that

Ley lines are used for moving magic and...communication between worlds

Ley lines are joined by time and space and void

The mist is a big give away for thin places

you get the point. this all seem to be connected. thin places-cauldron-void. I talked more about this in this post

d. the middle and fionn

fionn died in the middle.

The image shifted to some sort of marsh—a bog. Fionn rode a horse between the islands of grass, bow at the ready as he ducked beneath trees in bloom. My parents often went hunting in the vast slice of land the Daglan had kept for their private game park, where they had crafted terrible monsters to serve as worthy prey. It was there that he met his death. A dark-haired, pale creature that could have been the relative of the nøkk in Jesiba’s gallery dragged a bound and gagged Fionn into the inky depths of the bog, the once-proud king screaming as he went under. Horror rooted Bryce to the spot. Theia and Pelias stood at the water’s edge, faces impassive. Petals began falling from the trees. Leaves with them. Birds took flight. As if sudden winter gripped the bog. As if the land had died with its king.(hofas)

Acowar elain

Devlon let out a grunt at the sight of her. But Elain wrapped her own blue cloak around herself, averting her eyes from all of those towering, muscled warriors, the army camp bustling toward the horizon … She was a rose bloom in a mud field. Filled with galloping horses.

Acosf the middle

Islands of grass dotted the expanse, some so crowded with brambles that he could find no safe place to land. The tangles of thorns were a mockery of what might have been—as if Oorid had ever produced roses. Not a single flower bloomed.

Hofas bog when fionn died

Fionn rode a horse between the islands of grass, bow at the ready as he ducked beneath trees in bloom. My parents often went hunting in the vast slice of land the Daglan had kept for their private game park, where they had crafted terrible monsters to serve as worthy prey. It was there that he met his death. A dark-haired, pale creature that could have been the relative of the nøkk in Jesiba’s gallery dragged a bound and gagged Fionn into the inky depths of the bog, the once-proud king screaming as he went under. Horror rooted Bryce to the spot. Theia and Pelias stood at the water’s edge, faces impassive. Petals began falling from the trees. Leaves with them. Birds took flight. As if sudden winter gripped the bog. As if the land had died with its king.(hofas)

So elain and the middle???

Also another point is...the avallen island was like the prison island because Helena hid 1/3 of theia's power there and once bryce claimed that power...the island went back to what it was.

Helena had bound the soul of this land in magical chains. No more. No more would Bryce allow the Fae to lay claim over anything. “You’re free,” Bryce whispered to Avallen, to the land and the pure, inherent magic beneath it. “Be free.” And it was.

It was no longer gray and thrashing, but a vibrant, clear turquoise. And rising from the water, just as they had seen on the map Declan had found, were islands, large and small. Lush and green with life. Forests erupted on the island they stood on, soon joined by mountains and rivers.

So what if fionn did the same before he died? What if the middle is the way it is bc before he died...he bound himself to it so the magic of the land was bound?

And we need elain to free the land? As bryce did to avallen?

also Fionn's death goes so well with lightsinger describtion in acosf. also it ties to pelias.

Me and @silverlinedeyes have theorized before that Pelias might have been a lightsinger in this post.

In hofas we learn that Fionn died like this:

Lets break this down...

Fionn and his close people. One of them is his lover and the other is his general

In the bog

Asteri private game park

The last thing he sees is their faces after they betray him

Now how this ties to Pelias and Lightsingers...

This is how lightsingers are described in acosf:

“There are lightsingers: lovely, ethereal beings who will lure you, appearing as friendly faces when you are lost. Only when you’re in their arms will you see their true faces, and they aren’t fair at all. The horror of it is the last thing you see before they drown you in the bog. But they kill for sport, not food.”

Now lets break this down...

Friendly faces

Bog

For sport...not food... private game park

The last thing you see is their faces

Another point is...Silene and Helena both have shadow and starborn power. so them getting the starborn from theia and shadow from fionn makes a lot of sense.

So fionn's death being similar to lightsinger describtion when fionn could have shadow powers...like azriel who is a shadowsinger...you know what I mean? kinda weird lol.

lightsinger gwyn theory @silverlinedeyes made wonderfull posts about it. You can find them >> Part1 and Part2

I have some lightsinger theories too if you want.

Gwyn’s song and Cauldron’s song(lightsinger theory)

Azriel bonus chapter “settled/settling”(Lightsinger theory)

Azriel’s Bonus Chapter “glowed quietly”(Lightsinger theory)

Acosf Chapter 52 - Lightsinger Theory-Sirens

Glow=Power(lightsinger theory)

e. wild hunt being released??

In cc3 bryce said this:

“I think it’s what the Prison—the island in the Fae’s home world—once was. When Theia ruled it, I mean. Before Silene fucked it all up. Maybe they’re linked in some way through being thin places and spilled over to each other a bit. Maybe back in that other world … maybe I woke up the land around the Prison, too.”

Maybe I woke up the land around the Prison too

And we know that Silene captured Daglan's pet in prison. 👀

One after another, I hunted monsters—the remaining pets of the Daglan—until many of the lowest rooms were filled with them. Until my once-beautiful home became a prison. Until even the land was so disgusted by the evil I’d gathered here that the islands shriveled and the earth became barren. The winged horses who hadn’t gone with my mother to Midgard, who had once flown in the skies, playing in the surf … they were nearly gone. Not a single living soul remained, except for the monstrosities in the mountain.

And from acosf we know that Lanthys was one of them and he was in...Wild Hunt.

“Oh, I do not think so,” Lanthys seethed. “I rode in the Wild Hunt before you were even a scrap of existence, witch from Oorid. I summoned the hounds and the world cowered at their baying. I galloped at the head of the Hunt, and Fae and beast bowed before us.”

So if bryce did indeed woke up the land around prison that means it could be all crumbled like it was in avallen. Are the inmates going to be free? Are the wild hunt going to be in acotar5? Are we getting a full on wild hunt plot?

Also this goes well with the books being in the same timeline so what happens in cc affects acotar in a bad way.

f. Gwydion and Truth-Teller

They are white and dark light—Alpha and Omega.(I have a post about this) which came true lol. my best theory....

The male drew it, and Bryce flinched, but—“What the fuck?” The knife could have been the twin of the Starsword: black hilted and bladed. It was its twin. The Starsword began to hum within its sheath, glittering white light leaking from where leather met the dark hilt. The dagger— The male dropped the dagger to the plush carpet. All of them retreated as it flared with dark light, as if in answer. Alpha and Omega. “Gwydion,” the dark-haired female whispered, indicating the Starsword.

And whats important is that with her power bryce can unite them to open a portal to nowhere.

Polaris’s eyes widened as Bryce plunged the blades into her chest. And as those blades thrust through skin and bone, the star in Bryce’s own chest flared out to meet them. It collided with the blades, and both sword and knife blazed bright, as if white-hot. The light extended up through Bryce’s hands, her arms, her body, turning her incandescent— Into a star. A sun.

that portal to nowhere is...void.

A portal to nowhere. To a black hole. Wasn’t that the unholy power that Apollion possessed? The power of the Void. The antithesis of light.

so this connects with Cauldron and it having void in it too.

as bryce collects Theia's power that was parted into three parts she starts to realize it is taking a touch of darkness...

Bryce rolled her eyes, but for a heartbeat, Hunt wondered if Thanatos was right: Bryce had explained how the prism in the Autumn King’s office had revealed her light to now be laced with darkness, as if it had become the fading light of day, of twilight—

And we go to that scene...

With a prayer to Cthona, she sent twin beams of light arcing around the prisms, shooting straight into them.Twin bursts of that light flared from either prism, gunning for each other. Bands of light falling into darkness, her power stripped to its most elemental, basic form. They shot for each other, and where they met, light and darkness and darkness and light slamming into each other—Bryce stepped into the explosion in the heart of it. Stepped into her power.It lit her up from the inside, lit up her very blood. Her hair drifted above her head, pens and papers and other office detritus flowing upward with it. Such light and darkness—the power lay in the meeting of the two of them. She understood it now, how the darkness shaped the light.

And the purple highlighted part...it is exactly the same as the six pointed star.

Ithan angled his head. “A six-pointed star,” he said. Like the one Bryce had made between the Gates this spring, with the seventh candle at its center. “It’s a symbol of balance,” she explained, moving away a foot, but keeping the dagger at her side. Her crown of cloudberries seemed to glow with an inner light. “Two intersecting triangles. Male and female, dark and light, above and below … and the power that lies in the place where they meet.”

And if we go by the elriel scene...

Elain looked up at Azriel, their eyes meeting, his hand still lingering on the hilt of the blade. I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder. Light and dark, the space between their bodies a blend of the two. The only bridge of connection … that knife.

Can you see the connection?

Also that elemental part in bryce's scene. we learn about that in acosf.

Cassian forced himself to sit perfectly still as Rhys dragged a hand through his black hair. “Once, the High Fae were more elemental, more given to reading the stars and crafting masterpieces of art and jewelry and weaponry. Their gifts were rawer, more connected to nature, and they could imbue objects with that power.”

could that be important in acotar? Having elemental magic?

also...TT can unmade things. could this come in handy in mating bond plot?

“The Starsword is Made, as you called it.” He waved an idle hand, sparks at his fingertips. “The knife can Unmake things. Made and Unmade. Matter and antimatter. With the right influx of power—a command from the one destined to wield them—they can be merged. And they can create a place where no life, no light exists. A place that is nothing. Nowhere.”

and now we have both of them in Acotar.

Nesta lifted her head. “So?” “So I want you to take the Starsword.” Bryce held the blade between them. “Gwydion—whatever you call it here. The age of the Starborn is over on Midgard. It ends with me.” “I don’t understand.” But Bryce began backing toward the portal, taking Hunt’s hand, and smiled again at the female, at her mate, at their world, as the Northern Rift began to close. “I think that eight-pointed star was tattooed on you for a reason. Take that sword and go figure out why.”

as we all know...Elain already used TT.

But as a black blade broke through the king’s throat, spraying blood, I realized someone else had. Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

And we know from Bryce that knife has some kind of shadow powers.

Bryce threw her power into the Starsword, light ripping through the black blade, willing it to tear this fucking monster apart—She willed it into Truth-Teller, and shadows flowed—

elain...shadow...as I mentioned above fionn possibly had shadow powers as well. So it all connects. Because Fionn had Gwydion. Enalius had TT. it all seems to line up.

okay we are done with crossover part. I think. I added as much as I could. moving onto another topic.

Im adding narben as a topic here bc we dont have much to go on but I made a deep dive for it in this post from myth connections and all if you want to read it.

Also side not...narben means scar. Azriel's scars....thats all your honor.

2. Beron

But no one had been able to decide which was the bigger threat for them: Briallyn and Koschei, or Beron’s willingness to ally with them. While the Night Court had been trying to make the peace permanent, the bastard had been doing his best to start another war.

What’s better way to star a war over a female who is a cauldron made seer and also his son’s mate but doesn’t want to be with him?

And from Azriel bonus chapter we know that Blood duel is an autumn court tradition.

“Oh, I can, and I will. If Lucien finds out you're pursuing her, he has every right to defend their bond as he sees fit. Including invoking the Blood Duel.” "That's an Autumn Court tradition." The battle to the death was so brutal that it was only enacted in rare cases.

rare cases: for a cauldron made seer

Cassian said, “So we’ve got them on one front, and Beron here, ready and eager to go into war with Briallyn so he might expand his own territory after the carnage halts.”

he wants to expand his territory

Cassian unpacked each word. Beron had tortured his own son for information, rather than thanking the Mother for returning him. But Eris had held out. Fed Beron another lie.

The male had been raised with every luxury and privilege —on paper. But who knew what terrors Beron had inflicted upon him? Cassian knew Beron had murdered Lucien’s lover. If the High Lord of Autumn had been willing to do that, what wouldn’t he do?

Beron is so power hungry that he tortured his own son and he killed his son's lover because she was lesser-fae?

What would he do if he learns that Elain rejected the bond with Lucien because of a lesser-fae(illyrians are lesser fae)?

He already wants war and this would be his reason.

and we know from eris that Beron might as well make a new allience with Koschei after Briallyn is dead.

“Maybe not.” Eris shifted on his feet, and grimaced again. “But you and yours have more important things to think about than ancient history. My father is furious that his ally is dead, but he’s not deterred. Koschei remains in play, and Beron might very well be stupid enough to establish an alliance with him, too. I hope that whatever Morrigan is doing in Vallahan will counteract the damage my father will unleash.”

so...beron. lol.

3. Koschei

Elain already had visions about him in acowar.

Elain shifted her face toward him. Another blink. “They sold her—to … to some darkness, to some … sorcerer-lord …” She shook her head. “I can never see him. What he is. There is an onyx box that he possesses, more vital than anything … save for them. The girls. He keeps other girls—others so like her—but she … By day, she is one form, by night, human again.” “A bird of burning feathers,” I said. “Firebird by day,” Rhys mused, “woman by night … So she’s held captive by this sorcerer-lord?” Elain shook her head. “I don’t know. I hear her—her screaming. With rage. Utter rage …” She shuddered. Mor leaned forward. “Do you know why the other queens cursed her—sold her to him?” Elain studied the table. “No. No—that is all mist and shadow.” Rhys blew out a breath. “Can you sense where she is?” “There is … a lake. Deep in—in the continent, I think. Hidden amongst mountains and ancient forests.” Elain’s throat bobbed. “He keeps them all at the lake.” “Other women like her?” “Yes—and no. Their feathers are white as snow. They glide across the water—while she rages through the skies above it.”

and in acosf we learn that Koschei wants free of his lake but we don't know his other plans

“And all Koschei wants is to be free from his lake?” Rhys asked Azriel. But Amren answered. “No one really knows the full scope of the Trove’s powers. Beyond freeing him from his lake, Koschei may very well know something about the Trove that we don’t —some greater power that manifests when all three are united.”

and he might know things about the trove that nobody knows.

And in hofas we learned this about the harp:

She gave us what protection her magic could offer, transferring it from her body into our own using the Harp. Another secret she had learned from her long-ago masters: that the Harp could not only move its bearer through the world, but move things from one place to another—even move magic from her soul to ours.

Move things from one place to another—even move magic from her soul to ours

and in most koschei tales there is a thing about his...death.

The most common feature of tales involving Koschei is a spell which prevents him from being killed. He hides "his death" inside nested objects to protect it. For example, his death may be hidden in a needle that is hidden inside an egg, the egg is in a duck, the duck is in a hare, the hare is in a chest, the chest is buried or chained up on a far island. Usually he takes the role of a malevolent rival figure, who competes for (or entraps) a male hero's love interest.

maybe he wanted the dread troves for the purpose of his death? Can I bet that koschei moved his "death" from his body using the harp?

Also in that elain quote from acowar elain mentions a box.

While rereading the acotar books I noticed something.

Book of Breathings is described as a box.

The box would be heavy—and cold. Who are you, who are you, who are you— I flexed my fingers and cracked my neck. I am summer; I am sea and sun and green things. “Come on, come on,” Amren murmured. Above, water trickled over the stones. Who are you, who are you, who are you— I am Tarquin; I am High Lord; I am your master. The box quieted. As if that were answer enough. I snatched the box off the pedestal, the metal biting into my hands, the power an oily smear through my blood. An ancient, cruel voice hissed: Liar. And the door slammed shut.(Acomaf)

The box—the Book—was silent. Then it said, Like calls to like. “Open,” I gritted out. Unmade and Made; Made and Unmade—that is the cycle. Like calls to like.(Acomaf)

And we have Koschei's onyx box which we know from Elain. And koschei is a...sorcerer.

so what if it is not a box but a book???

4. Mating bond

Since acowar this has been a question. There are a lot of theories and idea about how sarah would go with this. True mates. Two mating bond. Some of us think elriel has carranam bond... There is so many theories

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it. “Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” “I’d keep that question from Lucien.” “I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

Feyre was the first to question the mating bond between Elain and Lucien. This scene is important because she is questioning the mating bond while looking at Azriel and Elain.

And we again see in the bonus that azriel questions the mating bond.

Rhys's power rippled through the room like a dark cloud. "I’m talking about you, about to kiss Elain, in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you," he snarled. "Including her mate." Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it. "What if the Cauldron was wrong?"

And we see through out the books that Elain and Lucien are not even getting closer. Both of them are uncomfortable with the mating bond.

He hadn’t mentioned Elain, or his proximity to her. Elain had not asked him to stay, or to go. And whether she cared about the bruises on his face, she certainly hadn’t let on.

Elain, at least, would be too polite to send Lucien away when he wanted to help. She was too polite to send him away on a normal day. She just ignored him or barely spoke to him until he got the hint and left. As far as I knew, he hadn’t come within touching distance since the aftermath of that final battle.

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.

“Why are you here?” Cassian asked, unable to help the sharpness. “Where’s Elain?” “I am not always in this city to see my mate.” The last two words dripped with discomfort. “And I came up here because Feyre said I should. I need to kill a few hours before I’m to meet with her and Rhys. She thought I might enjoy seeing Nesta at work.”

He and Lucien did not exchange gifts, though the male had brought a gift for Feyre and one for his mate, who barely thanked him after opening the pearl earrings. Cassian’s heart strained at the pain etching deep into Lucien’s face as he tried to hide his disappointment and longing. Elain only shrank further into herself, no trace of that newfound boldness to be seen.

Also I mentioned above how TT can unmade things...so can it unmade a mating bond? also it ties into Cauldron too bc....as we know it is corrupted by the asteri. @offtorivendell made a post about how asteri might have messed with mating bonds.

Also lets not forget this iconic quote.

Azriel stiffened. Let his cold rage rise to the surface, the rage he only ever let Rhysand see, because he knew his brother could match it. "What if the Cauldron was wrong?" Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?" Azriel ignored the question. "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

I'm gonna drop a few mating bond theories in here if you want to read it. Elain and Lucien mating bond is a spell by @icedflames

True mates theory by @silverlinedeyes

mating bond and bridges by @silverlinedeyes with my reblog.

@offtorivendell has many posts about mating bond you can find it here

Would a mate know, would a mate feel— by me

“Through love, all is possible” by me

5. Elain and Azriel’s powers

as I mentioned above...fionn could have a shadow power like azriel.

This is just a speculation but in hofas Silene gave this information.

My mother eventually trusted only Helena and myself to seek the truth. She knew we could be of great use to her, because we bore the shadows as well as starlight.

Helena and Silene both have shadow and starlight power.

Theia= starborn

So they got the starlight power from Theia. They must have gotten their shadow power from Fionn then? Bc he is their father.

So this made me think...in mythology fionn is a seer.

Fionn mac Cumhaill often anglicized Finn McCool or MacCool, is a hero in Irish mythology, as well as in later Scottish and Manx folklore. He is the leader of the Fianna bands of young roving hunter-warriors, as well as being a seer and poet. He is said to have a magic thumb that bestows him with great wisdom. He is often depicted hunting with his hounds Bran and Sceólang, and fighting with his spear and sword. The tales of Fionn and his fiann form the Fianna Cycle or Fenian Cycle (an Fhiannaíocht), much of it narrated by Fionn's son, the poet Oisín.

So what if...fionn in acotar was also a seer? What if that's how elain and azriel are also connected?

Bc that would mean...

Fionn: a seer and shadow powers

Elain: a seer

Azriel: shadowsinger

Is that how they are connected? Is that how elain could use the tt? 👀👀

Bc we know tt and gwydion are twin to each other. And Gwydion was Fionn's sword. Tt was his friend's—Enalius.

And in acowar elain used tt. Maybe bc that's the reason why. Maybe being a seer has some kind of connection to it. Just like being a starborn is connected to wielding the gwydion and its powers.

And we know from Bryce that knife has some kind of shadow powers.

Bryce threw her power into the Starsword, light ripping through the black blade, willing it to tear this fucking monster apart—She willed it into Truth-Teller, and shadows flowed—

As we know Elain is a seer. But there is more to her powers than just being a seer.

@wingedblooms made a post about how when it's mentioned it's always in plural form. >> Elain’s Powers

And with her seer powers she can be a good spy and we can see that Sarah hinted this acosf.

“You came,” Elain said behind her, and Nesta started, not having heard her sister approach. She scanned Elain from head to toe, wondering if she’d been taking lessons in stealth either from Azriel or the two half-wraiths she called friends.

the red part I highlighted in this has a parallel with Azriel you can find the post here >> azriel/elain parallel

And we know that N+C are trained by Azriel.

Amren, at least, knocked this time before entering. Nuala and Cerridwen, who had finished setting combs of mother-of-pearl into my hair, took one look at the delicate female and vanished into puffs of smoke. “Skittish things,” Amren said, her red lips cutting a cruel line. “Wraiths always are.” “Wraiths?” I twisted in the seat before the vanity. “I thought they were High Fae.” “Half,” Amren said, surveying my turquoise, cobalt, and white clothes. “Wraiths are nothing but shadow and mist, able to walk through walls, stone—you name it. I don’t even want to know how those two were conceived. High Fae will stick their cocks anywhere.” I choked on what could have been a laugh or a cough. “They make good spies.” “Why do you think they’re now whispering in Azriel’s ear that I’m in here?” “I thought they answered to Rhys.” “They answer to both, but they were trained by Azriel first.”

another thing is that we know azriel is good at keeping secret and here we have feyre pointing out elain has him beat

Feyre smiled. “Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping."

also now that we have crossover with CC books, there are mystics and it looks like Elain's seer powers and mystics are very similar one another. I talked about that in the post that I'd linked. Also with Elain's seer powers I made a theory about how the timeline could work if Sarah took inspo from a poem from the Norse Mythology called Völuspa. Another thing is there is a magic called Seidr in Norse mythology which I think Sarah might have of gotten inspiration for Elain's powers. It also connects with Vassa(and a little bit crossover) and her possible plotline.

I think this is all I got.

if you read this much....THANKS.

bye now. :)

#elriel #I finally posted this after 3 fucking years.#I hope you enjoy this long ass post.#acotar 5

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slytherin-pen · 2 months ago

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Mama’s Boy

pairing: Azriel and his mother

word count: 2.5k

warnings: mentions of past abuse and violence

tags: mentions of Elriel, some backstory lore, Azriel is mad at Rhys

summary: After his fight with Rhys, Azriel retreats to the one place he can find peace—Rosehall. There, we meet his mother Eve.

a/n: sooo, i’m three days late for @nameless-acotar-weekend but listen—i did my best. also, i’m super excited about this one! i took this as an opportunity to flesh out some of my headcanons/theories regarding these two. i’m also trying to work on writing more of the small details and i think i did that. i hope you enjoy!

The Illyrian Steppes were quiet this time of year. A spring wind rustled the grass, the air crisp and sharp due to the altitude. Azriel soared above it all, his shadows trailing behind him as he approached the only place in the world that could offer him peace right now. Rosehall.

It was nestled far from the camps, warded so that only he and whoever he allowed could see it—much less enter.

Azriel landed softly on the dirt path before the estate. He barely had time to fold his wings before the cats came.

A blur of color and fur streaked toward him—tabbies, greys, calicos, and the one black tom who always yowled like he was swearing. Azriel knelt as they surrounded him, sniffing his boots, batting at the shadows that danced around his legs. He felt a rare smile tug at the corner of his mouth.

The door opened before he could knock.

Eve stood there in a soft blue tunic that clung to her slim frame, the sleeves rolled up signifying she had either been cooking or gardening. Her black hair was pinned back in a simple twist, and her wings drooped behind her. Azriel briefly wondered if there would ever be a day he didn’t blame himself for being unable to protect her. But her eyes, hazel and so familiar to his own, softened the moment she saw him.

“My boy,” she breathed.

Azriel’s throat tightened. “Hi, Mama.”

She moved forward, taking his face in her hands. She didn’t flinch when his scarred hands came up to cover hers. He’d stopped expecting that flinch years ago, but it still shocked him when it didn’t come. “You didn’t say you were coming.”

“Needed to see you,” he murmured.

Her brow furrowed. Despite the years they missed out on together, she could always read him like a book. “Something happened.”

He only nodded.

She stepped aside to let him in. The scent of roasting lamb and wild herbs hit him immediately. The estate was warm and alive, a fire burning brightly in the hearth behind the screen. Jars of pickled vegetables littered the shelves in the kitchen and dried herbs hung from the ceiling. Bolts of cloth were stacked in corners. Half-finished dresses hung from racks scattered around the room. And the cats who had followed them inside perched on the couch, coffee table, and windowsills as they watched him with flicking tails.

His mother pointed toward the couch in front of the hearth. “Sit. You’re pale.”

“I can’t be pale, Mama. I’m Illyrian,” he replied with a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Don’t argue with your mother Azriel Donnall,” she scolded.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied, chuckling softly.

Azriel unbuttoned his jacket and sat on the couch in front of the fire, resting his arms on his knees. One of the cats, a cream-colored puff ball of a thing, leaped into his lap without invitation. He began to stroke her head with his hand.

Eve returned to the kitchen, where she stirred something in a tall iron pot. “Did you eat?”

“No ma’am.”

“Good thing I make enough to feed an army, then,” she said in a light, sing-song voice.

He watched her in silence for a while, letting the tension bleed from his shoulders as the smell of garlic and spice filled the room. He hadn’t realized how tightly wound he’d been until he stepped into this place. Into her quiet, protected world.

“Rhys gave me an order,” he said eventually.

She turned her head but kept stirring. “What kind?”

He twisted his scarred hands in his lap despite the cat nudging them with her head, begging for more pets. “To stay away from someone I care about.”

Her stirring slowed.

“I kissed her,” he continued. “And he said to stay away from her.”

His mother said nothing for a long moment, then tilted her head as she asked, “Did she want you?”

“Yes.”

“And did you hurt her?”

“No.”

“Then he has no right,” she said, her face scrunching up in anger. It wasn’t a face Azriel saw very often. For many years he didn’t think his mother was capable of such emotion. Thought it was too deeply associated with his father, Fergus, for her to allow herself to feel such a thing—much less express it.

But one night he came barreling in through the door after a half-ass job of stitching himself up in his Velaris apartment—empty save for the few supplies and furniture items needed in emergencies like those—that she’d properly scolded him for the first time in his five hundred and sixty years of life. Her brows and nose had scrunched like they were now and her face had turned red as a tomato as she lectured him on taking proper care of himself. And on not letting Rhys overwork him, but they both knew that wouldn’t change, not unless another Shadowsinger appeared.

Her ranting had quickly ended when he had whispered that he just wanted his mother. She’d cooed at him and taken his hand, leading him to the dining room where she redid his stitches, fed him, and then sent him off to bed.

Nights like that didn’t happen often, the guilt Azriel felt too strong in normal circumstances for him to allow her to coddle him in such a way. The tables have turned now, and it was his turn to take care of her. But when he was vulnerable like that night, and tonight, he allowed her to be the mother she never got to be without fuss. To make sure he was fed, to kiss his boo-boos, and check on him throughout the night—though she didn’t know he knew about that part.

Azriel exhaled shakily. “He’s trying to protect his family.”

“And who protects you, Azriel?” She looked over her shoulder at him. “Who protects my boy?”

“I don’t need protection, Mama. I am a grown male, with multiple methods of defending myself.” He sighed. “She has a mate. She doesn’t want him but…he wants her. And Rhys is worried about the consequences that may follow should he choose to fight for her.”

His mother huffed indignantly. “While I may understand where he’s coming from in a diplomatic sense, a mating bond is not law. Especially if it hasn’t been consummated.” She raised a singular brow at him in question, and after he gave a brief nod, she continued. “That’s what I thought. Mother only knows what decides who is mated to who, and we’ve seen firsthand how incompatible some mates can be.”

Azriel scrubbed at his face, both in frustration and in an effort to remove the cat fur that was starting to tickle his nose.

“I know, Mama. But trying to tell Rhys that is like talking to a brick wall. His mating bond is something straight out of a fairytale. They’re perfect for each other. He’s so high on the happy hormones he can’t think straight.”

“Well,” his mother sighed, “just give it time for now. Maybe he will eventually see the error of his ways—however, that is doubtful. But maybe something will change between the two of them. Whether that be breaking the bond or…”

Azriel nodded solemnly.

“Dinners ready,” she called, thankfully changing the subject.

At the table were dishes containing fluffy rice, roasted lamb with garlic and figs, and warm flatbread brushed with butter and herbs. She sat beside him at the dining table, handing him his napkin and silverware like he was still her child and not one of the most feared males on the continent.

“Eat,” she murmured. “And then you’ll sleep.”

He did. He ate every bite. He helped her clean up after despite her swatting him with a dish towel, and when she nudged him toward the spare room that had been turned into his, he relented. He was asleep within minutes, curled beneath a patchwork quilt that smelled like lilac and woodsmoke.

Azriel woke to the sound of birdsong and soft humming. When he stepped out into the living room, he could see his mother was already in the garden through the living room window. She had a woven basket looped over one arm and a small trowel in the other, a few of the cats following her every move.

The goats roamed nearby, grazing on the grass and wildflowers. The chickens were still in their coop, but he could hear the roosters waking up to start their day—and everyone else’s within a five mile radius.

He stepped off the front porch steps, rolling up his sleeves. “What can I do?”

Eve handed him the basket. “Pick the ripe potatoes. And the mint. The rest we can leave another day.”

He did as asked, enjoying the silence between them. There was no need to talk. Not here. She moved between rows of herbs and vegetables with ease, nimble despite the wings that hung like broken branches behind her.

“They don’t hurt anymore,” she said suddenly.

“What?”

“My wings. I thought they always would. But they stopped.” She straightened, wiping dirt on her pants. “They still feel wrong, but they don’t ache constantly, only when it’s really cold.”

Azriel swallowed. “I’m glad.”

She looked at him, long and steady. “You were only two when they took you to the dungeons. And then when you were eleven you were sent to the camps and I thought I’d never see you again,” her voice cracked at the end.

“I know,” he said quietly. “I know.”

“And decades later when you brought me here, I didn’t know how to be your mother anymore.”

“You learned,” he assured her, smiling ruefully.

A tear slipped down her cheek and he sent a shadow to wipe it away.

They resumed harvesting in silence, the spring breeze ruffling their hair. And Azriel, not for the first time, wondered what it would be like to stay here. He usually only stayed for a few days at a time, always having to rush off to his duties as Spymaster. Maybe in another world, he got to live with his mother. Got to be raised by her. Instead, he had to keep her hidden away like a princess in a tower for her comfort and safety.

His father and stepbrothers were, unfortunately, still alive. He’d like to think the beating he and his brothers gave them would deter them from ever trying to hurt his mother again, but he could never be too careful. Not with her.

Fergus, Uilleam, and làcob had been a type of cruel he still hasn’t come across again in his centuries of being the Night Court torturer. Even his stepmother, Dara, had been a piece of work. And though he and his brothers did not lay a hand on her, her screams of fear after witnessing what he had done to her husband and children that day told him she got the message.

So he keeps as much of his mother’s whereabouts a secret as possible, and that includes not visiting often or staying too long in case he is trailed. He doesn’t even tell his brothers much about her. They know she exists, and they know he visits her, but that is the extent of their knowledge. And he will keep it that way—until the rivers run dry, the moon turns blue, and Hel freezes over—because the more people who knew, the more danger she was in.

By mid-morning, the sun had warmed the earth and Eve had opened the front windows to let in the breeze. Azriel helped her move a display table outside, setting it up beneath the shade of a birch tree.

“Today’s trade day?” he asked.

Eve nodded. “Yes. The girls are coming.”

The “girls” were a loose collection of females from nearby hills and hidden cottages. Survivors, all of them. Some bore the scars of escaping their abusive husbands or families, others just had that hollow look in their eyes that he had seen too often in his mother. But here, at Rosehall, they were vibrant. Whole. Eve had given them that.

They arrived at noon with jars of honey, wool, bundles of soap, and bolts of cloth. They greeted Azriel with smiles and nods, some whispering behind their hands. It took some of them decades to become comfortable around him, but they learned to trust him as Eve’s son and not fear him as the Shadowsinger.

He watched as the females traded goods and gossip, tried on new cloaks, and stitched hems right there in the grass. One brought Eve a fruit cake, another a bottle of berry wine. The females smiled and laughed with each other, Azriel’s mother shining the brightest of them all.

Azriel smiled more that day than he had in months. Seeing his mother like this, in her element, in company that loved and appreciated her almost as much as he did, warmed his cold, dead heart.

When the sun dipped low, and the females gathered their things, Eve hugged each one like a sister. Then she returned to the house, her eyes alight.

“You’re staying for dinner,” she told him, bracing her hands on the archway to the kitchen.

Azriel turned from where he was adjusting the logs in the fire. “I wasn’t planning to leave yet.”

“Good.”

She made a stew with lentils, root vegetables, and chicken with a side of bread. They ate on the porch, listening to the goats and chickens wandering around the property. Several cats were draped over the railing or sprawled out on the wooden planks soaking up the last rays of the sun.

After dinner, she sat beside him on the porch swing with a needle and thread, repairing one of his tunics.

“You don’t have to—”

“Hush. Let me do this. I never got to patch your clothes when you were small,” she said with a small smile, but there was emotion swimming in her eyes, and a hint of pleading.

So he let her.

And when she brushed his hair back with gentle fingers, the way she used to when he was too bruised to move, he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let himself lean into his mother’s touch. Savor it. His eyes closed on their own accord and a soft sigh escaped his lips.

That night, Azriel stood beneath the stars, looking out at the moonlit mountain. Eve joined him, wrapping a blanket around her thin shoulders.

“Are you going to stay angry at Rhys forever?” she asked as she stood next to him.

He crossed his arms over his chest, his shadows swirling around him. “No. But I needed space.”

“And will you go to her? This girl?”

He was silent.

Eve stepped closer. “You were never a mistake, Azriel. Not even in that house. You were the only thing that saved me.”

His throat burned. “I just want to be enough for someone.”

“Oh, my sweet boy,” she said, her voice thick with sadness. “You are. You were always enough. They were just too blind to see it.”

She pulled him close then, one clipped wing curling around him. “You are my heart, Azriel. My brave, beautiful boy.”

He closed his eyes. He would deal with the mess revolving around Elain and Rhys when he returned to Velaris, but for now, he would soak in every moment of peace with his mother. Because despite their immortality, there wasn’t enough time in the world to make up for the childhood they both lost.

#acotar #sarah j maas #acotar fic #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel’s mother #acotarunnamed2025 #a court of silver flames #azriel fic #acotar headcanons #acotar theory

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jasmineandcedar · 9 months ago

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Get a grip

An Elriel one shot (Azriel’s POV).

(jump down to “keep reading” if you want to go straight to the one shot - mind the tags)

I see adoration, connection, and beautiful consent in how SJM has written Elain and Azriel’s relationship. We see how they narratively lift each other as characters, just like Nessian and Feysand. Azriel is Elain’s choice - her breaking free of the stifling expectations that have plagued her. With Elain's encouragement, we see self-sacrificing Azriel finally rest and able to fight his feelings of being unworthy of touch and romantic love.

On top of how they care for each other, there is also mutual lust - in the most beautiful slow-burn of the ACOTAR series (if you ask me).

Whilst I will always have a weakness for Elriel's quiet and gentle love, here’s a celebration of the sometimes misunderstood aspects of their developing romance - lust and desire. Inspired by Azriel's bonus chapter, it's my attempt at depicting how Azriel’s racing thoughts and desire for Elain might manifest at night, when only the Mother might witness him. It's also a celebration of Elain and the desirable things about her. A light-hearted vindication of the shadowsinger and the seer - whose only crime seems to be desiring each other, both sexually and romantically. (I love me a forbidden romance! 🤭)

I shall let them.

Warning: smut (sexual fantasies, Azriel jerking off), light angst

(This is my first attempt at writing something even remotely smutty. It’s all in good fun!).

I wrote this thinking of it as a continuation of my one shot Wingspan (you’ll find it here, but you don’t need to read it to read this one).

_______

Azriel arrived at the House of Wind with hot frustration pulsing through his normally icy veins. Shadows swirled at his feet as he ran a hand through his windswept hair, tucked in his wings, and entered the lower levels of the House. With Nesta and Cassian already fast asleep, he hurried through the corridors towards his room. His steps were guided by muscle memory alone, his thoughts racing with images of Elain.

Since fate had cruelly decided they couldn’t have each other, the thought of her would have to do—for now.

And it would do.

Thoughts of her fingers grazing his. The jolt that went through his body as their eyes met. Her golden-brown hair falling in waves like a silken waterfall down her back. How the chilly night air painted her cheeks and nose in a lovely shade of pink. The gentle care with which she nurtured life into being in every garden she touched.

It was curious—how a single memory of her could satiate him more than sharing shallow corporeal pleasures with another had ever been able to. He hadn't seen the point in any of that in a long time, couldn’t fathom why he ever had, now that he could steal glances from Elain Archeron, secretly brush his fingers against hers, or simply watch her be.

The ache in his chest was rivalled only by the ache in his pants. As it were, he could only do something about one of those aches tonight. He fully intended to. He would take advantage of that ache currently throbbing in his pants until he was a throbbing mess in his bed. It was the only hope he had of getting any sleep.

He entered his room, grateful for the solitude of the late hour. Locking the door behind him, he only managed a few strides inside before he fell back against the stone wall, spreading his wings along the cool and smooth surface for some relief. He let his shadows—the ones that weren’t already asleep—seal his room off from any unwanted attention.

Then, he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

His lips parted as his fingers drifted to his waist, tugging at his shirt to undo the fasteners of his pants. His fingers were cold from his flight, and he shuddered as they grazed the sensitive skin of his lower abdomen. He leaned his head back against the wall and let out another deep breath before he bit his lower lip. Hard.

He inhaled.

Thoughts of her flashed through his mind—her delicate fingers twirling the string of her apron, the way she swept strands of golden-brown behind her ear as she knelt in the garden.

He exhaled.

Fuck me, he thought behind closed eyes, letting his head fall back against the wall again, a little harder than necessary.

Perhaps it was pathetic, the level of detail with which he had committed to memory even the most minute of encounters with her. He could live with that. Somehow, he didn’t mind it at all. Those minute encounters seemed to be what kept his heart pumping, after all. What he couldn’t live with was that raging ache that threatened to rip through his pants if he didn’t deal with it soon.

He groaned with relief as he finished unfastening his pants to grip his cock. He was painfully hard, to a degree only Elain Archeron could induce. He wrapped his fingers firmly around his length and let them glide over it.

"Elain Archeron," he sighed at the thought of her. To his shock, he heard himself almost giggle at the way her name slipped from his lips.

Then, because no one was there to witness the fearsome Spymaster, he whispered her name into the night one more time, as if to taste it. Despite his misery, he couldn’t help but smile at the sound of it. It was sweet like honey, the way her name took shape on his tongue—just like her gentle soul, which seemed to understand both the words he spoke and didn’t speak.

His grip around his cock tightened, hand wrapping around it much in the same way he was wrapped around Elain’s finger.

His heart had belonged to her and her alone since she had given him that headache powder—when she had made him feel genuine happiness for the first time since he didn’t know when. It had been hers since she chose to spend her first Solstice night with him, of all people, sharing her dreams for the gardens. Her eyes of molten chocolate had lit up and he had looked at her in awe, undisturbed, until dawn. He wasn’t even sure if he had blinked; he hadn't wanted to miss a single second of her elation. That night, she had taught him what joy felt like, and it had stunned him.

He wanted desperately to return to that night. To be able to look into her warm brown eyes without suspicion or accusation from anyone over what his heart desired. He wanted to go back and give her his heart again, just to make sure she knew it was hers.

But perhaps she had already wrapped his heart in her soft hands when she looked upon his brutalized ones and breathed the last word he would ever have associated with himself, regardless of how many times others spoke it of him.

Beautiful, she had breathed.

And he had believed her.

Yes, he was hers already.

The things he would do to not just be hers, but to call her mine.

The thought of it had him tightening his grip on his cock. Slowly and firmly, he let his fingers glide from the base of his length and stop just below the head. The pleasure of it all was excruciating. He had always thought the line between pleasure and pain was a rather fine one, a proclivity he now reaped the benefits of.

He groaned, his breathing growing heavier. He wanted desperately to bring himself over the edge, but he wasn’t done yet. Rolling his head back, he focused, exhaling deeply and feeling the muscles of his core contract. Then the ache in his chest mirrored the ache he gripped between his fingers as he stroked himself again, even harder, for good measure. He felt his body twitch at the impact.

That’s it, he thought to himself as he got himself closer to that blissful edge and forced himself to hover in that space where pleasure and pain intermingled.

If she would let him, he would grab hold of her and never let go. Yes. If she wanted it, he would hold onto her.

Hard.

With both hands.

From behind.

And fuck her slowly.

The thought alone nearly pushed him over the edge. That wouldn’t do—he wasn’t ready for this to end just yet. He shook his head, relaxed his grip on himself and let out another trembling breath.

What he could do to her from behind, though, should she want it… He would wrap those golden-brown waves around his fist like a belt and pull her up against him. He would tilt her beautiful face the way he wanted it—the way they both wanted it—just like he had done that second Solstice night, giving him perfect access to her lovely neck.

That neck of hers. He sighed desperately at the image that flashed before him. Of course, Elain had to have the most delectable neck in all of Prythian.

Unable to hold back, his grip around his length tightened again as he clenched his jaw, held his breath, and stroked himself fiercely to the thought of it.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

He let out his breath and forced himself to loosene his grip again.

That second Solstice night was etched on his mind like the tattoos etched on his upper body. He had been the luckiest bastard in all the realms combined when she had allowed his fingers to taint the velvety skin of her neck. No—when she had urged him to stroke the velvety skin of her neck, with the way she had leaned into him.

He groaned, his hand tightening reflexively at the memory, the implication of her actions that night almost bringing him to completion once again.

She had wanted it. Wanted him. He knew that now. And that small, precious truth was enough for him to keep battling those demons that told him otherwise.

“Get it together,” he panted, the muscles in his upper body once again contracting with each ragged breath. He resorted to dazedly letting his fingers glide in long motions along his length as he indulged in the memory of her.

It was a fruitless endeavour. He knew he would be frantically stroking himself again in a few moments anyway.

He was insatiable. And she was too lovely.

That neck.

He had let his thumb draw lazy circles on that flawless neck. No—there had been nothing lazy about it. His focus on her that night had been sharper than any duty had ever commanded his attention. And when that sweet, intoxicating scent of her arousal had reached his nostrils, he had almost fallen to his knees. An unusual urge almost anything Elain did seemed to inspire in him.

Azriel wasn’t one to kneel before anything or anyone. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had done it once—that one time he had knelt before Elain when he rescued her from those Hybern scum. She was the exception to that rule.

No, kneeling before Elain was the rule.

He’d live his life by that rule if she would let him.

She could hold his gaze with those beautiful eyes that looked upon this miserable world with such fierce hope, and it was like a kick to the back of his knees. He would be on the floor begging already if he only let go of what was left of that restraint he hung onto for dear life whenever she was around.

Eyes closed, his shirt clinging to his hot skin, he leaned heavily against the wall and tilted his head to the side. His racing thoughts drifted back to her—to those soft waves of golden brown that would wrap so perfectly around his fist. The cool touch of the stone wall against his wings added to the sensation as he rolled his hips, letting his cock glide through his tight grip with slow, hard thrusts—just like he would fuck her if they ever got the chance.

How many thrusts would it take before she collapsed in his arms? He chuckled, low and dark. It didn’t matter much. As if one time would ever be enough. Since he was apparently known for being such a cruel bastard, he would show her all the ways he could make her come until it was her turn to beg for mercy. He smiled at the thought before he felt that sting in his chest return.

Skin to skin—that was where they belonged. Breathing the same air. With his hand tangled in her soft curls, he’d whisper praise in her ear, shower her soft skin with the equally soft kisses she deserved, her back pressed against his chest as he made love to her. He had a feeling she would like that just as much as he would. Maybe she would even treat him to a moan. The mere thought of her moans was like a fist around his cock.

He could certainly make her moan.

Oh, the ways in which he could make Elain moan. Perhaps he would even make a quest of it.

With his tongue, that’s how he would start. Her inner thigh. And, Mother save him, when he got between those inner thighs…

When he had Elain coming on his tongue.

When she wrapped those thighs around his face as he had her coming on his tongue.

He almost sobbed at the thought of it, fisting his cock ferociously, grip rough and brows furrowed as all thoughts of restraint shattered.

“Fuck it,” he panted.

Every muscle in his body tensed as he as he came with her name on his lips, his skin overheated and body quivering. His head tipped back against the wall, pleasure pulsing through him like the tremor that had rippled through his veins when she met his gaze earlier tonight. His lips parted and a low moan, followed by a string of curses, spilled out of him.

A few moments passed as he caught his breath, dazedly stroking himself through the last waves of pleasure before he finally opened his eyes. He looked around the room lazily. Then, realization dawned on him. He swore again, low and dirty, at the mess he had made.

His eyes fell upon the headache powder at his bedside table. Unused, as it would remain. He felt that familiar sting in his chest at the sight of it. He was left only with the empty feeling of her absence—unsure of how emptiness could feel so substantial. His chest tightened again at his own misery where he stood alone, his cock still in his hand, staring at the soiled floor.

“Pathetic,” he muttered at the thought of himself. He hadn’t even made it to the bed. That must be a new record. He would have to get that under control, should he ever get to spend a night with Elain.

He sighed deeply, turrning to look out the window across the room at the pitch-black tapestry that was the night sky. Just as the realization of his own misery had dawned on him, dawn would be emerging in a few hours, spreading soft pastels across the night sky. It reminded him of her—like everything seemed to do these days.

He thought of that dusty pink gown she often wore, the one that made her soft skin appear even softer. As if that were even possible. He wanted to rest his head against that softness and fall asleep.

Azriel had never yearned for arms to hold him. Not until Elain.

Something burned behind his eyelids. He knew it would crush him to dwell on it.

“Get a fucking grip,” he muttered to himself, even as his hand returned to once again grip his hardening length.

It would be a long night.

(I just want them to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Is that too much to ask? 😭)

#elriel #elriel fanfic

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mycadences · 8 months ago

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You're telling me that SJM, a fated mates writer, introduced Lucien Vanserra as Elain's mate in ACMOAF as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM introduced Gwyneth Berdara in the latest ACOTAR book and wrote mating language about her with Azriel as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM purposely wrote in a Facebook comment about how Elucien would have "tension, growth, and healing" to be found together as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM had Nesta find out about Gwyn's oddly complex lineage, comment on some sort of crackling power in her and also about how rare it was for her to have a last name, all as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM wrote Azriel's shadows, who "kept him company, as they always had, as they always would", vanishing around Elain as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM wrote Azriel's shadows singing and dancing for Gwyn as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM wrote Azriel saying his almost-kiss with Elain was a mistake and admitting to himself that he had no thought about her beyond his sexual fantasies as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM wrote Azriel's chest sparking for Gwyn and him smiling at her happiness as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM wrote Azriel's ENTIRE bonus chapter (let's face it, at this point everyone agrees his BC is as anti-E/riel as it gets) as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM had Rhysand directly referenced and shot down the "three brother three sisters" theory (the same theory E/riels are banking on) as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM wrote Azriel and Elain's interactions with similar vibes as Feyre and Tamlin's as a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM wrote Azriel and Gwyn sharing so many complementary traits (competitive, singing, interest in combat, not afraid of bloodlust, low self-esteem) is a red herring?

You're telling me that SJM wrote Elain and Lucien sharing so many complementary traits (peace-loving, abhorrence of violence, both very social, light and sun imagery, diplomatic personalities) is a red herring?

At this point, isn't it easier to agree that there's just ONE red herring (Elriel), and it applies for TWO couples (Gwynriel and Elucien)?

Rather than these dozens of red herrings all for one couple. It doesn't make sense. If Elriel were meant to happen, realistically SJM only needed Elucien as a red herring and she just had to need to write Gwyn's interactions with Azriel in a similar way as she wrote Emerie's interactions with Azriel, because no one ships Emerie and Azriel. They don't have mating language together, they don't banter together, his shadows don't do anything special for her, etc.

#pro gwynriel #pro elucien #gwynriel #elucien #why does one ship have so many red herrings?#gwyn x azriel #elain x lucien

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loveyazy · 7 months ago

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Got inspired by a friend's Elriel x Taylor Swift post!

1. Begin Again

I've been spending the last eight months thinking all love ever does Is break and burn, and end But on a Wednesday in a cafe I watched it begin again

Elriel passages

Elain cocked her head. Didn’t dissolve into the crying mess she usually became when Graysen came up.

-ACOSF, chapter 17

“I..." He watched her swallow. She clutched a small gift in her hands. "I was coming to leave this on your pile of presents. I forgot to give it to you earlier." Lie. Well, the second part was a lie. He didn't need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face. She'd waited until everyone was asleep before venturing back down, where she'd leave her gift amongst his other, opened presents, subtle and unnoticed. Elain closed the distance, and her breathing quickened as she again paused, now a scant foot away. She extended the wrapped gift, her hand shaking. “Here."

— Azriel ACOSF BC

But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it. “Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. He nearly groaned with relief and need as he lowered his head toward hers. Offer and permission.

— Azriel ACOSF BC

Rhysand blinked. "What of Mor, Az?" Azriel ignored the question. "The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

— Azriel ACOSF BC

2. You Are In Love

But you saw enough Small talk, he drives Coffee at midnight The light reflects The chain on your neck He says, "Look up" And your shoulders brush No proof, one touch But you felt enough

Elriel passages

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight.

— ACOFAS

— Azriel ACOSF BC

Letting his scarred fingers touch her immaculate skin. Letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took a damn long time fastening the clasp. Azriel's fingers lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch. Until his palm lay flat against her neck. It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers, but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching.

— Azriel ACOSF BC

3. Lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

Elriel passages

So Elain silently cried, the tears so unending that I wondered if it was some sign of her heart bleeding out. Some sliver of hope that had shattered today. That Graysen would still love her, still marry her—and that love would trump even a mating bond.

— ACOWAR

No, she tended to her gardens here, silently mourning her lost human life. Mourning Graysen.

— ACOFAS

Azriel didn’t let go. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

— ACOFAS

and Azriel … those longing glances toward [Mor] had become few and far between. As if he’d given up. After five hundred years, he’d somehow given up.

— ACOSF

4. Daylight

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

Elriel Passage

But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would, he found himself leaving the room. Entering the foyer. Soft steps padded from under the stair archway, and there she was. The faelights gilded Elain's unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. She halted, her breath catching in her throat.

— Azriel BC

5. invisible string

Time, wondrous time Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies And it's cool, baby, with me And isn't it just so pretty to think All along there was some Invisible string Tying you to me?

Elriel passages

She was wearing a pale pink gown

— ACOWAR

Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm. I couldn’t tell if she was looking at his blue Siphon or at his scarred skin beneath as she breathed, “Beautiful.”

— ACOWAR

Azriel’s head lifted from where he was sprawled in his own blood, eyes full of rage and pain as he snarled at the king, “Don’t you touch her.” Mor looked at Azriel—and there was real fear there.

— ACOMAF

Elain stepped out of a shadow behind him, and rammed Truth-Teller to the hilt through the back of the king’s neck as she snarled in his ear, “Don’t you touch my sister.”

— ACOWAR

Azriel was nothing short of beautiful. Even with those scarred hands and the shadows that flowed from him like smoke, she’d always found him to be the prettiest of the three males who called themselves brothers.

— ACOSF

When human, Elain had easily been the prettiest of the three of them, and when she’d been turned High Fae, that beauty had been amplified.

— ACOSF

He’d flown in so silently, I hadn’t even heard the beat of his wings.

— ACOMAF

Elain was again at my side. I hadn’t heard her steps. Hadn’t heard any sound for moments.

— ACOFAS

Elain politely refused, taking up a spot in one of the wooden chairs set in the bay of windows. Also typical.

— ACOFAS

They’d sat in them, before this fire, so many times that it was an unspoken rule that Azriel’s was the one on the left, closer to the window

— ACOSF

6. willow

The more that you say The less I know Wherever you stray I follow Begging for you to take my hand Wreck my plans That's my man

Elriel passages

“Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision.

Offer and permission.

— ACOSF BC

His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair and stepped back. Forced himself to say, "This was a mistake.” She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, "I’m sorry."

— ACOSF BC

7. ivy

My pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand Taking mine, but it's been promised to another Oh, I can't Stop you putting roots in my dreamland My house of stone, your ivy grows And now I'm covered in you

Elriel passages

He offered her a smile back. "I wasn't sure if I should give you your present." He left the rest unspoken. Because her mate was here, sleeping a level up. Because her mate had been in the family room and Azriel had needed to stay by the door the whole time because he couldn't stand the sight of it, the scent of their mating bond, and needed to have the option of leaving if it became too much. Elain's large brown eyes flickered, well aware of all that. Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days.

8. cowboy like me

You're a cowboy like me Perched in the dark Telling all the rich folks anything they wanna hear Like it could be love I could be the way forward

Elriel passages

“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

— ACOWAR

Azriel donned the frozen mask he’d perfected while in his father's dungeon. "I don't know what you're talking about.”

— ACOSF BC

9. Guilty as Sin

I'm seeing visions, am I bad? Or mad? Or wise? What if he's written 'mine' on my upper thigh Only in my mind?

Without ever touching his skin How can I be guilty as sin?

I keep these longings locked In lowercase inside a vault Someone told me There's no such thing as bad thoughts Only your actions talk These fatal fantasies Giving way to labored breath Taking all of me We've already done it in my head If it's make believe Why does it feel like a vow We'll both uphold somehow?

Elriel passages

Mad. Elain might very well have gone mad—

— ACOWAR

"I have seen the victims of trauma before. Her symptoms match well with many of those invisible wounds. But … she was also Made by something I do not understand. Is there something wrong with her?” Madja chewed over the words. “I do not like that word—wrong. Different, perhaps. Changed.”

— ACOWAR

“A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

— ACOWAR

He had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night. Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep. How that beautiful face might appear as he entered her, what sounds she'd make.

— ACOSF BC

Her arousal drifted up to him.

— ACOSF BC

Elain shuddered, drifting closer. So close one deep breath would brush her breasts against his chest. She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open…

— ACOSF BC

She opened her eyes, hurt and confusion warring there before she whispered, "I’m sorry."

— ACOSF BC

10. The alchemy

I haven't come around in so long But I'm coming back so strong So when I touch down Call the amateurs and Cut 'em from the team Ditch the clowns, get the crown Baby I'm the one to beat Cause the sign on your heart Said it's still reserved for me Honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy?

Elriel passages

Just as he knew she was well aware of why Azriel so rarely came to family dinners these days. But tonight, here in the dark and quiet, with no one to see…He pulled the small velvet box from the shadows around him. Opened it for her.

— ACOSF BC

She looked up at him, her face so trusting and hopeful and open. “Yes" Elain breathed, like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut.

— ACOSF BC (I know I used this again but it's perfect!)

I'm sure there are more but right now these popped into my head! And it's long enough already. Part 2 later?

#elriel #pro elriel #elain x azriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses

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