#azriel belongs in therapy

[a-frog-with-a-laptop]

Things I wish to happen in House of Flame and Shadow

Due to CC3 coming out at the end of the month and me having the book on preorder since around November. Here are some wishes and dislikes for the next book. As always spoilers are incoming.

Many people don't want Aelin to come back but honestly, I want her back to show the high lords she is better than them and to have Helion and everyone else simping at their feet because they are so damn hot.

I want Aelin to have her powers back. This is not negotiable. Micah opened the gates = Aelin got her powers back.

Or she sees an Asteri with her powers and rips them to shreds. Whatever works.

There will be no Aelin/Fenrys and Maeve problems happening with Hunt/Ruhn/Lydia and the Asteri.

In fact, they will live happily ever after because Bryce will have already grabbed what she needed and come back to Lunathion and saved them all within 5 days. The rest of the book is everyone living happily in peace.

Someone slaps Rhysand.

Someone slaps the inner circle.

Aelin slaps people for being idiots.

The prison is actually the Dusk Court and that's where the dead people go, and Danika, Connor, Sam and Gavriel are all still alive. (I can explain).

Azriel goes to therapy.

Elain and Lucien get together.

Lorin (Ruhn's Mother) is Rhysand's sister and she helps Ruhn find Bryce and then when Ruhn and Bryce reunite with each other she sees Rhysand. (I can also explain).

The Multiverse is saved by girl power and all the next books coming out afterwards are just the girls being better than the men.

I fall into a bright portal and end up in their multiverse like Amren did.

I will probably add more as time passes but here we go.

[arcturustarlight]

I'm gonna be honest. I think (it's just a guess I'm not sure of myself) SJM wasn't actually quite sure who to pair Azriel with. He was obsessed with Mor for 500 years and during ACOMAF, the reader would get hints that Mor too, feels something anything for him despite everything.

Then we had Elain who their dynamic would be the pretty brother x pretty sister (some people need to wake up, Elain is NOT a quiet, shy, introverted damsel). She got some ideas, leading them out in ACOWAR but noticing how it didnt work and the mate that was wrong for Nesta was right for Elain.

When she plans a mate, she plans a HEA. Lucien was supposed to be Nesta's mate but given the fact that they would kill each other, she gave him to Elain.

I truly guess that after Gwyn entered the series and had interaction with Az, she was like let's gooooo. Like ACOSF was the best opportunity for the following book in the series and its love interest (aka, Az and his mate)

Morrigan was barely present in ACOSF, Elain and Az barely talked until the bonus chapter where the ship sank to the bottom of the ocean (where it belongs). Az has two bonus scenes and had hints with Gwyn (privet dagger handling, see you tomorrow, Shadowsinger, the shadow darted to dance with her breath, her smile glowing, a smile creeping to his lips. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.)

All the evidence leads to Az being the main character in the next book (thank fuck, he needs some development and therapy) with my beautiful, angelic Gwyn as his LI.

[shallyne]

The Diary of Feyre Archeron Ch 10

Chapter ten! Last chapter before the epilogue. Enjoy!! Full fic on AO3

Words: 1.1k

June 29th

Rhys came with me to the Rainbow today. It has been nerve-wracking if I put it lightly. It took me about an hour before I even could step a foot into the artist's quarter but Rhys was there, reassuring me and giving me the time I needed. I actually wanted to do this after work but Rhys took the day off for us both and we walked to the Rainbow. In my quest to ignore it the past years I never realized how close the quarter was to the lounge.

After I managed to actually walk into the Rainbow (I gripped Rhys's hand the whole time like my life depended on it) I got that sudden feeling of nostalgia. Seeing people carrying canvases and paints, even the street musicians who were in their element. It was such a weird mix of emotions, on one side I wanted to bolt in the other I felt at home there, like I belonged. I teared up just standing there, probably looking like an idiot, but Rhys wiped my tears away with the hand I wasn't squeezing.

We even ate lunch there, right beside a gallery. I haven't gone into the gallery but Rhys and I agreed that this would be the next step, for the next time.

I'm actually excited! It's so strange, tho. Having all these different emotions.

July 12th

Tonight I had the first nightmare that I was alone to deal with. Rhys had to work longer and Elain and Nesta were on a double date with Azriel and Cassian. They invited me, too, but I was so exhausted after therapy that I just fell into bed right after dinner. I assume that's also why I had nightmares again, a lot has come up. I wish someone had been there but I managed, somehow. I didn't throw up and I, fortunately, didn't have a panic attack either. That's good, it's something to celebrate. I really don't know if I should tell Rhys, though, because I know he's going to feel bad for not being there and I don't want him to feel bad. I have to do this alone, it was bound to happen sooner or later. I don't know, I'll think about it. He's not in his office later when I work, so there is enough time to debate this until I meet him in the afternoon.

Also, I've bought a new dress. It's not like the others I took from home, this one is much more revealing. Mom would hate it, so I know it's great. Rhys will love it.

July 13th

I couldn't even say hello before he asked me if I had nightmares again? Is it that obvious??

But, okay, but that's not what I'm going to write about today. Something happened. Something GREAT!!! Rhys and I had sex last night. For the first time. And the second. And the third. Okay, a lot of times and it was amazing. It was the best sex I ever had. Not that I'm surprised but also I'm a little surprised because I didn't expect that. It was like something you'd read in Nesta's smutty books. I can't stop thinking about it. About Rhys and the last night and well, that's bad because we will have a barbecue tonight with the whole family (Nesta, Elain, Mor, Cassian, Azriel, Rhys's mother and sister, Rhys and me) and apparently you can read all my emotions on my face. Fuck, I have to work on that. I will! I'll try while getting ready. I'm still at Rhys's place but he already had a dress ready for me so I won't have to stress about that. (not in a controlling way like, his mother made that dress. She's a seamstress and I feel really honored to wear her dress but nobody would blink an eye either if I would turn up in pajamas)

I feel like I'm walking on clouds! It's surreal. If someone told my 16 year old self that I am where I am now she would laugh. She wouldn't believe it at all. I barely can.

December 15th

A decision was made!

I'm quitting my job at Rhys's lounge and going to art school. I started painting again around august and I just can't stop. There is so much that I have to tell, to get out. Rhys and I spent a whole night talking about the future weeks ago and the decision was a hard one to make but I made it. I'm going to art school. I'm living my dream, the thing I've worked towards my whole life until we had to leave my hometown. It's happening and I made the decision all alone. Without Rhys (although I've talked his ear off about the pros and cons), without Nesta or Elain, without my therapist. It was my decision! Isn't this exciting? I'm standing on my own two feet again. Baby steps evolved into quite big steps. I can't say how light I feel these days. I can paint it but words can't even begin to describe my feelings. I still have rough patches, especially now that it nears one year since my abduction but I'll get through this. I'm not alone. I'm not there anymore, I am safe now. And I am going to art school! Oh my god!

No words left, just happy.

January 1st

If you like a thing you should put a ring on it!

Okay, well, that's not the exact lyrics. I had to modify it a tiny little bit to fit my situation. Our situation. Rhys and my situation. Well, happy new year! I'm engaged! We are engaged! There will be a wedding. Between me and Rhys. Rhys and I. Engaged. Soon to be married. I'd say I believe I'm dreaming but I am not, I am looking at the ring as we speak. It's a family heirloom, Rhys told me. It's been through generations. The ring is also SO beautiful. It's a sapphire and in is etched with a six pointed star. The band of the ring is twisted of silver and gold. Never in my life have I seen something that beautiful. Sometimes, when the light falls in it in the right way, it looks like there is a star inside the stone.

Which actually brings me to the proposal. It wasn't something big, it was just me and Rhys and we went stargazing. I tried to find a constellation he had pointed at and when I turned around he was on his knee (his bad one, I basically had to pull him up), asking me to become his wife. Of course I cried. Nothing could beat this proposal.

It's Rhys and me. For the rest of our lives.

I'm thanking the stars everyday

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader

[nikethestatue]

Apparently people are saying that Elain's drawer is evidence that her mate is Tamlin and I am literally packing my bags and leaving.

There are some weirdly desperate people in this fandom.

Sorry to tell them, but Tamlin, whom SJM calls a ‘douchebag’ is not getting his little redemption arc through dick therapy with an Archeron sister. 

The ability to latch onto the most random shit in these books and draw illogical conclusions never ceases to amaze.

Every day it’s:

‘Elain said she needs sunshine and Lucien is sunshine!���

“Gwyn said she has slightly more pliant bones and she therefore can have Azriel’s children!’

“Elain likes flowers therefore she belongs in Spring!’

‘Gwyn glows, therefore, she is Helion’s daughter!’

“Cassian said Elain doesn��t look good in black therefore, she doesn’t belong in Night Court!’

I am pretty sure that if Elain starts hooking up with Tamlin, both Rhys and Feyre will daemati the crap out of her to make her forget all about him. 

[vikingmagic33]

Happy Azriel Ship Day 2022! @azrielweek2022

I’m excited to share my very first fanart commission. This art by the amazing @artofseda on Instagram!!

Celebrates the 1 year anniversary of my Gwynriel fanfiction series In The Name Of Science/On My Radar on AO3. Gwyn & Az are what finally inspired me to write. I wanted to tell the story of Gwyn’s struggles with flashbacks of her attack and how she sets about scientifically to overcome her touch triggers with the help of our Shadowsinger (who might have a few tiggers of his own) and the very hands that saved her.

Meet the Shadows in all their snarky glory & enjoy some free therapy and smut along the way :)

Reposting not allowed. Shares through stories allowed with proper credit for artist and commissioner. Characters belong to SJM and featured heavily in ACOSF.

[once--upon-a-blog]

What NOT to do during ship wars... A rant

Most of you must be familiar with this walking, talking, typing toxic bin but if you aren't, here's the posts for reference

Oh the misery!

Gwyn's being a little coltish even after all the shit she's been through.

How dare she?!

Shouldn't she realise that she has to women up?

Shut up and hide underneath a blanket?

Never show face

Not be so energetic after being raped

What a loser, am I right?

The above statement was me being sarcastic ⬆️

What about Elain?

Wasn't she super skittish to talk about periods with her OWN sisters?

How is that going to fit into an adult book?

Doesn't it feel like she's gonna run for the hills at the sight of a dick (Azriel's giant dick at that)

That was also me being sarcastic... Don't hate on a character for being shy.

It was just me pointing out how baseless and stupid her/his/their (whatever gender they might belong to) argument was.

And honestly almost half the fandom forgets that Elain is older than Feyre until someone reminds them.

See the issue here was never Gwyn's personality it was the fact that Gwynriel has an ACTUAL solid chance.

I LOVE how this b**** complains about Gwyn's out there/playful/sunshin-y sometimes childish nature when she's so fucking immature that she takes a CANON trauma, might I add, a trauma millions of people around the world have experienced in real life and stomps it down to a fake cry for attention just because she's afraid that her ship's not going to happen.

Has this complete... Ugh!

*MUST refrain from swearing too much*

Has this person NEVER heard of survivors guilt???

At this point I'm seriously wondering if she's EVEN read the book.

Gwyn is obviously going to be skittish about sharing this info with Emerie and Nesta.

For heaven's sake

The girl couldn't bring herself to sing, or even leave the effing library for WEEKS.

She considers herself to be at fault for her sister's death, she said so herself in the book...

And honestly if you had half a working brain cell, you would have figured it out all by yourself.

But no-

Miss ma'am here thinks if someone refuses to share their trauma early on, it NEVER FUCKING happened.

(People attend therapy for years just for the ✨fun✨of it, am I right?) ⬅️ also sarcasm

( God I wanna reveal her name soo bad and the fact that she has 3000+ followers 🤦‍♂🤦‍♂)

In conclusion, I'd like to tell her that-

[freyjas-musings]

I try really hard not to say anything because I have a real life and this is my outlet to forget my stressful life for a bit ...clearly I was kidding myself if I thought this fandom is a way to relax and have a bit of fun ....

Now , after bullying a Minor aggressively over wanting to celebrate a character that belongs to Sarah J Maas that she as a fan loves.... lets clear a few things up ....

I am proud of this young girl who has been nothing but graceful and polite in the way she handled the bullying for wanting to celebrate a character she likes .... She has just as much say in wanting to celebrate a character as we all do ....

The first excuse for the outrage - that elain week was originally in April ... yes it was but it was the first week of April last year ... and nothing was announced even until the end of March this year and Gwyn week was only announced in the last week ... so unless people were planning to announce a pop up elain event with a days notice ... clearly there were no plans of having an elain week during the first week of April... that's a lie and an excuse ...

Gwyn week was announced in April since it is also a SA awareness month ... it is only fitting to appreciate a character thats been so popular and positive during that Month ... especially when her character brings comfort to so many survivors within the fandom....

The second excuse - that it was organised by a person who ships Elain and Lucien.... Now this is low and disgusting .... what makes you think these people are wrong wanting to see Elain with her mate ??? Clearly you all haven't gotten her POV ... so what makes you so sure that it is wrong ... the character probably has reservations I get that ... but its not like he has forced himself on her ... Canon suggests he has given her space and time ... and clearly you all are not writing the series... So your argument that its Wrong is silly ...

Also, Azriel literally smothered Elain and disrespected her choice to help with the scrying .... His thoughts in the POV bonus chapter were clearly misogynistic and disgusting.... I love him but he needs intense therapy ... He literally treated Elain like an object that he wants to taste once .... if anything shipping them and then calling the rest of us misogynistic is a joke and shameful ... get over yourselves... that pairing is just toxic for anyone who has basic reading comprehension... yet most people have never lashed out at that fandom group for being anti feminist..... and anti elain .... if u r allowed to ship them then eluciens are allowed to ship them just as much .... you have a problem?? Suck it up ... we all are ...

Third excuse for outrage .... Gwynriels are the reason elain gets hate, hence we are not allowed to celebrate the character??? Have you people lost it ??? Do you lack grey matter in your brains??? Elain getting hate has nothing to do with the Gwynriel pairing .... a character is not defined by which person she needs to end up with ... it might be a difficult concept for most of you to grasp but anti elriel is not anti elain ... but given how Gwyn's character has been butchered and continued to be butchered to make Elriel more palatable.... I am not surprised they think everyone's like them ... No ....

There are people who don't like Elains character... for multiple reasons of their own ... its as simple as them not participating... there are just as many who don't like Lucien or azriel ... stop gatekeeping characters as plot points to ships alone ... its silly and exhausting...

So the outrage was just a tantrum thrown by a bunch of adults who lack basic maturity ... now, you want to celebrate Elains week in September as well ... go for it ... have as many as you want ... who said there can only be one week ... people who want to participate will do so ... Elriels ... you guys could have still done that without throwing that ugly tantrum and no u cannot dictate who can and cannot participate....

You want it to be a closed event then call it a closed event exclusive for the elriels ... u can't say its Elains week but gwynriel and elucien shippers can't participate... although if you are saying that it speaks volumes about the quality of people on your side isn't it??

Same with Azriel week you guys want to have 2 weeks celebrating Azriel have 2 weeks ... participation is optional ... do what suits you but do it with dignity ... without stepping on anyone else's toes ...

Just find other ways to keep yourselves happy rather than by throwing childish tantrums and with performative outrage ... baseless and absolutely needless... None of this will confirm or manifest any ships ... what's sunk has sunk ... no amount of outrage and bullying can salvage the wreckage...

Please get a life everyone ....

[elentiyawhitethorn]

The Bet | Extra POV #4

Day 37 (Rhys)

CW: mention of violence/past abuse

AN: The scene where Rhys talks to Feyre after Tamlin shows up at the gallery, as requested by @feysandandnyxsworld

Masterlist//Moodboard//Timeline//1871 words

Feyre stood in the kitchen, hands braced on the sink. Rhys could see her face reflected in the mirror. She looked so fragile. So empty.

The sound of her hoarse “Let go of me” had broken something inside of Rhys. He was never going to forget the undiluted terror in her eyes.

And now here she stood in front of him. She could be thinking of nothing but Tamlin. And maybe Rhys. Maybe she was scared of him too.

Rhys never should have lifted a finger against that man, never should have let his temper slip its leash. He usually had better control over himself.

“Hey.”

Feyre froze and her eyes flicked to his in the mirror. She didn’t turn around.

“Hey.”

Rhys locked his gaze with hers as he stepped forward.

“I’m so sorry, Feyre. I never should have attacked him like that. That was not my right.”

Feyre replied, “Okay.” Nothing more. Her voice was unsteady and painfully soft.

“No. Not okay. I shouldn’t have... I just... when we were in the gallery, you looked terrified,” Rhys started to explain, knowing he owed her an explanation. “And I remembered what you said in your studio, about how he trapped you. I started to suspect. But when Tamlin grabbed you, I knew. I knew that he was the one that hurt you. He’s the reason you go to therapy and support groups and have panic attacks and look so depressed all the time. He’s the reason all the light has left you. Maybe I’ve never seen you before you met him, but I see you, Feyre. I can tell you used to be happier. And I just wanted to make him pay. I know that’s not an excuse. I was just so angry.”

Feyre swallowed as she stared at him in the window’s reflection. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not.” Rhys stepped toward her once more, then paused, not wanting to frighten her. Because he had doubtlessly already done that tonight.

Rhys took a deep breath. “You were yelling at me to stop. And it didn’t matter what he’d done. Nothing mattered except for you telling me to stop. And I didn’t.”

“It is alright,” Feyre repeated. “He deserved it. And maybe you shouldn’t have done that anyway. Honestly, it scared me. You scared me. And I just don’t want to deal with violence anymore.”

The words, the brutal honesty of them, had Rhys’ chest aching. How could he have behaved in such a manner?

“Please promise to never to do that again.”

“Of course I promise,” Rhys breathed. “I’m so sorry, Feyre. I will never act like that again. But that doesn’t warrant your forgiveness. I don’t deserve that.”

“Don’t tell me what you don’t deserve.” Feyre’s tone became stern. “I forgive you, because if I came across the woman that hurt you, I would have done the exact same thing.”

Rhys held his breath as he took that in. That Feyre would cross the same lines for him, that she would care enough to defend him, even if it cost his trust… and yet… “I know.” And that said it all.

Feyre tightened her grip on the countertop as she gazed at him through the glass. “She really... works with Tamlin? And what’s Hybern?”

“Yes. And Hybern is a company that she works for. Amarantha. It’s only fair you know her name. And the rest of it—you’re caught up in all of this now, after all.”

No matter how Rhys wished she wasn’t.

“She holds a lot of power, but she isn’t at the top. That’s the CEO. They call him the king. I’m not sure what his real name is.

“My family owns a business called Velaris. It’s been passed down through the generations. I never took to it, ended up hiring a few people I trusted to look after it. Business isn’t really my thing.

“Amarantha wanted control of Velaris, so with the king’s permission, she arranged a meeting with me. Velaris belongs to my family. I only agreed to go as a courtesy; I never had any intention of selling. She threatened my family. Mor, Cassian, Azriel, and Amren. She said she’d kill them. There was one other option, aside from letting them die or selling my family legacy.” Rhys felt his eyes shutter. Feyre could see the expression on his face; he could tell from the way she sucked in a breath.

There was no need to explain further.

“I texted Mor, telling her I wasn’t coming back for a while,” Rhys added. “None of them knew anything about this. They thought I was just going to a business meeting. So did I, for that matter. So I told Mor not to worry, I just needed some time. And then I became her whore.”

“How long?” Feyre whispered.

Rhys shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “Two years.”

Feyre started crying, tears making a trail down her beautiful face. Rhys felt his own face grow wet, but he felt no shame.

“How did it stop?” Feyre asked.

“She got called back to Hybern’s headquarters. Damage control. Apparently Tamlin started dating someone and she needed to let me go to deal with it.”

That was the bomb that Rhys knew he needed to drop. That was what Feyre deserved to know.

She gasped. “Me?”

“Yes,” Rhys said in verification. “She was supposed to go get him in order. Hybern had wanted Tamlin to marry Amarantha to solidify ties between the two companies. Tamlin didn’t want to, though. He wanted to marry you.”

“But. I didn’t. Tamlin was supposed to marry your… her? Why would he give up marrying some rich bitch for me? He didn’t even like anything about me!”

The truth of it had Rhys wincing. “He never wanted Amarantha. No one did. And I heard Tamlin picked up some girl off the street to avoid her. I’m sorry.” It didn’t matter if Feyre had ever loved the man. She still deserved to know what cards she had been dealt.

“Don’t be sorry, Rhys. I know he didn’t love me. And I’m glad to know why he wouldn’t let me leave. I always wondered, because I was poor and he spent virtually all of our time together trying to change everything about me. I know I shouldn’t, but I always wish he’d have chosen some other girl to terrorize.”

Her voice was quiet, but strong. She was strong.

Rhys took a step toward Feyre, bringing him even closer. She still had her back to him, only watching him through the reflection, and Rhys wondered if she couldn’t turn around. If it was too much for her.

“I don’t think you shouldn’t. Anyone would wish it wasn’t them.” Rhys decided to tell her more. She had the right to everything. “As you’re probably aware, that was almost a year ago. I was allowed to leave, so I went home. And the others were so angry. They had been worried sick the whole time, looking for me. And then I confessed everything, and they weren’t so angry at me anymore. I never mentioned Tamlin’s name, I can only assume, because Mor would have put it together, that you were…” He cleared his throat. “I got a job as a flight instructor, like I’d always wanted, and gave complete control to the board I put in charge of Velaris. The months passed. And then Mor told us her friend Feyre was coming to New York to be an artist.”

Rhys stepped closer, mesmerized by the way her eyes sparkled with unshed tears and understanding.

Another step.

“Rhys,” Feyre rasped. “I—”

He was directly behind her now, but he knew better than to touch her. He would never invade anyone’s privacy like that, let alone someone who had dealt with everything Feyre had. The ball was in her court now.

Feyre made her move. She stepped backward, her back lightly brushing Rhys’ chest. Rhys slowly, ever so slowly, leaned forward and pressed himself closer against her.

Feyre tipped her head back onto Rhys’ shoulder, finally ending the staring contest. Feyre’s eyes drifted closed as her head fell against him.

Rhys buried his nose in Feyre’s neck and she let out a contented sigh. He wanted to touch her, but he kept his hands at his sides, letting her direct this. She apparently wasn’t satisfied. Feyre reached back and grabbed his hands, sliding them onto her hips.

Rhys tightened his grip on her hips as he trailed his lips down her neck. Her skin was so smooth. It was addictive.

And the way her breathing turned ragged as she leaned into his touch… Rhys was discovering a whole new level of lust as he touched her.

But it was more than that. This wasn’t just unadulterated desire, this meant something. Rhys knew it did from the way Feyre had looked at him. She didn’t just want this—she wanted him. She wanted him as much as he wanted her and they could be something.

Rhys brought one hand to Feyre’s chin and delicately turned her face to his. “Feyre,” he whispered, hoping all the emotions coursing through his veins were conveyed in that one word.

Feyre turned in Rhys’ grasp, fully facing him now. One of his hands remained on her hip, the other now delicately tracing her jawline. He kept his movements soft as she raised her hand to his face, and Rhys’ breathing caught the second her fingers came into contact with his skin.

She wiped away his tears, and the act almost had Rhys crying all over again. Gods, she was perfect. He raised his own hand and rid her of her tears as well.

His forehead brushed Feyre’s and she bit her lip unconsciously. Their noses brushed, their lips coming closer and closer together. Rhys could already imagine the feather-soft touch of her lips on his, had been imagining it since day one. Just another centimeter and he wouldn’t need to imagine any more, and they could both finally stop pretending they didn’t mean anything to each other.

Just before Rhys could press his lips against hers, she froze and backed out of his arms.

What had he done?

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have—” Rhys started, needing to covey how awful he felt, but Feyre cut him off.

“I can’t,” she whispered, then spun around and ran from the room.

“Feyre!” Rhys called. “Feyre, please. I’m sorry, can we just talk? Feyre.”

His voice trailed off pitifully as the reality sunk in.

Feyre wasn’t coming back.

Rhys had screwed up today, perhaps more than ever before. He had beat the shit out a man who definitely deserved it, but the action of which had scared the woman he cared about. The same woman who he had pushed too far past her breaking point.

And all the hope that had gathered in Rhys’ chest as he held Feyre in his arms dissolved into nothingness as he came to the conclusion that he had misread her intentions. After all, what intelligent, beautiful, hilarious woman who had every man in sight wrapped around her finger would want to spend the rest of her life with him?

———

Tag List:

@a-court-of-milkandhoney

@aelin-bitch-queen

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@morganofthewildfire

@nehemikkele

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@rowanaelinn

@scatterbrainedgirl

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thebonecarver

@whythefuckdoiexist

@yesdreamblog

[dani-reads-bookish-things]

My take on Azriel’s POV

Long post incoming but if you’d like one psychologist’s take on Azriel, please keep reading! This is my first time posting. I came to the fandom ~2.5 years ago, and I thought that everyone had said everything that needed to be said at the time but with a new book, I’m very interested in participating in the fandom theories and interpretations!

So I’m a psychologist and part of my job is to take data and interpret what I think it means. I have a specific set of lenses that I look through, and am I sometimes wrong? Absolutely, but that’s something I always disclose, that it might be trial and error, I try to make all the information make sense, and ask for feedback. I am also always very intentional with my language and word choice in my work. I am by no means trying to say I have the best grasp on mental health or think that my viewpoint is 100% accurate, but I just want to explain some of the psychological things and writing choices that stood out to me.

I think the thing that has bothered me most is people being upset and uncomfortable with Az’s POV and how he views Elain. More so because I think it’s a misunderstanding, but of course, everyone is entitled to their own interpretation and reactions.

SJM is always intentional about what she does so I was curious as to why she left out emotional/romantic words and writing in Az’s POV and maybe that is what bothered others about it (it didn’t bother me, give me more horny Az please). He didn’t express any longing or emotional/romantic feelings towards Elain (and neither with Gwyn and I’m not going to discuss shadow interaction at all because that’s a whole other post). His behavior, to me, definitely did convey longing and romantic interest though. I wouldn’t say it was normal, but it wasn’t abnormal that he keeps the medicine gift on his nightstand and stares at all the time and hasn’t used it once. It’s meaningful to him in some way (I have my own interpretation as to why but I’ll leave that out for now and just focus on what it does mean behaviorally). He pleasures himself in the dark of night with thoughts and images of Elain after even his Shadows have gone to sleep (which I interpreted to mean that he doesn’t want this separate entity but also part of him to know about how he wants and desires Elain).

I think Azriel, who has a history of not feeling worthy of his romantic interests per Mor, doesn’t allow himself to be hopeful for himself. As he’s contemplating kissing Elain he thinks, But he could have this. This one moment, and maybe a taste, and that would be it. To me, Azriel just wants this one moment of happiness and to give into his desires and then he’d be satisfied for the rest of his life (I don’t think he would, but it still says a lot about how he views himself and what he wants out of life IMO). So I think he hasn’t allowed himself to fully be hopeful and give into the growing feelings for Elain because he doesn’t think he’s worthy of her and doesn’t believe that they could actually have a relationship for whatever reasons (mainly the mating bond it seems, could be more to it). After he leaves Rhys, he thinks, He'd been so vigilant about keeping away from Elain as much as possible, and had stayed up here to avoid her, and tonight...tonight had proved he'd been right to do so. So some internal belief he had (that is most likely untrue because that’s how anxiety works. Not that anxious feelings aren’t valid, just that we overthink or think things will be worse than what is actually real), was “proven” right to him.

Furthermore, when Rhys says, “So you’ll what? Seduce her way from him?” (Another word choice example that stood out and bothered me (but is intentional), as if Elain belongs to Lucien, which in this world with the mating bond, it is seen this way, but I think Elain would disagree with Rhys.) the book says Azriel said nothing. He hadn't gotten that far with his planning, certainly not beyond the fantasies he pleasured himself to. I’ve seen plenty of people cite this is as more evidence of Elriel not being endgame because Azriel hasn’t thought of a future with Elain. But if we continue down the trail of the psychology of Azriel, I think it’s more representative of him NOT allowing himself to go that far, because if he dreams and fantasizes about this grand love story with Elain, and then it doesn’t come true? That’s more hurtful for someone like him, to have dreamed and lost, than to have never dreamed at all.

So it just bothers me when people say “Elain and Az are so toxic, he definitely needs to be with Gwyn, and she can help him better than Elain could.” Um no, Az the is common denominator in all this (insert TikTok sound: We are not rehab for broke men), so neither of these girls should be seen as more worthy or better for him. Az needs to work through this on his own and unlearn the mental pathways he has in his brain, and if either girl is by his side and makes him realize things, good. But they are not in any way responsible for his mental well being and recovery, they can definitely help if they wish to.

I don’t want to say that that Az’s behavioral/mental patterns are unhealthy as in it’s bad (because that conveys judgment in my world and I try to stay away from that language unless something is clearly unhealthy), but I think you could say it’s not healthy as in it’s not good. Because I don’t want people to believe that people who have this mind frame or mental pathways (because I’ve seen children and adults that demonstrate this mindset) to think that it is wrong or bad, or that they can’t have meaningful relationships while they have this mindset, because it’s possible for people to have meaningful relationships and be on the road to a healthier mindset simultaneously, but definitely something that needs to be worked on so that relationships to be more successful and have less barriers.

Because also saying that he can’t be in a relationship with Elain (while simultaneously pushing a relationship with Gwyn, and I know this isn’t all of Gwyn and Az supporters) also then disparages all the characters and relationships that SJM has ever written. All of her characters are processing trauma and feelings when they enter relationships. These relationships aren’t perfect which is what makes them realistic. When Feyre accepts the mating bond with Rhys, she tells him, “I want you to know that I am broken and healing, but every pieces of my heart belongs to you.” Azriel’s mental state does not make him any less deserving of a relationship. In the real world, is it best for sometimes to take time for yourself, maybe go to therapy? Yes, but this faerie world, therapy the way we know isn’t an option and so healing happens in different ways and through relationships.

Do I believe Elriel is endgame? I so want to believe it because I think both Elain and Az compliment and balance each other. Other people have made glorious posts on this, so I won’t go into it. But I think Elain’s journey and book would focus on her identity, standing up for herself, being the person who she wants to be, going for what she wants, being more than just a pretty face and seen as someone who needs to be protected all the time; which I think is something her sisters AND Azriel need to learn (Yes, it was cute and made me squeal when Az told Amren that there was a darkness to the Trove that Elain should not be exposed to, but buddy, Elain is going to surprise us all, you included).

So if this is route that is taken, I think Azriel could learn a lot from Elain being that optimistic fighter and believer in love, that no mating bond itself is going to dictate who she can want and can or can’t have. Because whether she ends up with Lucien or Azriel, the only thing I believe is certain is that the mating bond with Lucien will be addressed, and that will require her standing up for herself and being clear about what she wants.

[a-frog-with-a-laptop]

some people are pro elriel, others are pro gwynriel. I'm pro theriel, azriel x therapy.

[theladyofdeath]

Alone in the Ashes {6}

A Court of Thorns and Roses fanfction, characters belong to Sarah J Maas. Modern au. Revolves around Nesta x Cassian, Feyre x Rhysand, and Elain x Azriel. Other characters appear throughout. Based on multiple prompts sent in by anons tbr below.

Warning: Mature content. Alcohol abuse, verbal abuse, sex, language, eating disorders.

For summary & chapter index, click >  Alone in the Ashes {Acotar}

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Dinner at the Archeron’s, part 2: the aftermath. 

Comment to tell me what you think, or to be tagged! x

“You're the person I don't need to explain myself to - not when it matters. You see everything I am, and you don't run away from it.” ― Sarah J. Maas, House of Earth and Blood

Cassian and Nesta rode in silence. 

There was not much to say, surely not anything that would make things better. 

Cassian came to the conclusion that Nesta’s dad was an ass, but he decided to keep that thought to himself as they drove. The sun had sunk while they were at dinner - if that’s what that was. The Velaris night sky was lit with stars, but Nesta was staring blankly out of the front window. 

“Hungry?” he asked, considering the meal that was prepared had never been eaten.

Nesta shook her head.

“I can stop somewhere, if you are.”

No answer.

He didn’t know why he was trying, it was clear she wasn’t going to respond. Cassian had agreed to go because he thought it would be fun, thought he would see Nesta Archeron in a familiar environment, thought he might even see her crack a smile. 

But what he had witnessed was not as pleasant. 

What he had witnessed was Nesta Archeron living her worst nightmare.

Cassian had known Feyre for a long time, but she rarely spoke of her father, and now he understood why.

“You know, you and I are a lot a like,” Cassian began.

Nesta didn’t acknowledge him.

“My dad was a drunk, left when I was young. My mom died my senior year of high school. I was an only child, though.” 

Nothing.

Cassian nodded, anyway. “What he said to you tonight, Nesta-”

“Don’t,” she hissed, arms crossed. “Don’t fucking talk to me like you know a damn thing about me.”

Cassian pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex. “Why do you do that?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do,” Cassian snorted, pulling into a parking space and turning off the engine. “Every time I try to start a conversation you speak to me like I’m a pile of shit.”

“Well, you saw my dad,” Nesta snapped. “I learned from the best.”

She opened the door, hopped out, and slammed it behind her.

Cassian took the keys out of the ignition and followed her lead. “I’m trying to help.”

“I don’t need it,” Nesta said, hurrying up the stairs.

Cassian was right behind her. “Bullshit.”

Nesta stopped on the second floor landing and spun around to face him. Her eyes, a mixture of gray and blue, were furious. “You will find that you’ll be a lot happier if you back the fuck off. Okay? I don’t need your pity or your fucking therapy.” 

Cassian’s lips formed a straight line. “I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, Nesta. Not a fucking word. I was there tonight. Alright? I saw how his words affected you, how his drunkenness made you sick. I saw how uncomfortable you were being back in that house. And I get it. Don’t act like you’re invincible. The longer you act like you’re invincible, the angrier you’ll get.” 

Nesta lifted her chin and met his gaze. “To feel anger, I’d have to be able to feel.” 

She turned her back to him and walked away, to the end of the hall, and let herself inside of her apartment. Cassian was close behind, and as he opened his own door, he thought there was a hell of a lot more to Nesta Archeron than most people thought.

~~~~~

Rhysand had driven Feyre home in silence. By the time they made it back to their apartment, she looked exhausted.

Rhysand felt awful. Feyre was the last one to leave the house, which meant she spent years taking care of Isaac, never knowing what mood he was going to be in. He had never healed after their mother’s death, had never learned to cope, had never found peace. And it directly impacted his daughters. 

It had not been the first time that Rhysand had helped Feyre drag her dad up those stairs and into his bed. 

“I’m sorry about tonight,” Rhysand said, as he joined her on the couch. 

Feyre was looking at her hands. “There’s a reason I stay away from him.”

“I know,” Rhysand said, and he put his arm around her and drew her close to him. Feyre clung to his shirt and closed her eyes. “What can I do to make you feel better? I could get you super drunk again. You know, as long as you promise not to puke all over me this time.”

Feyre chuckled against his chest. “One drink, maybe.”

Rhysand nodded and trudged to the kitchen. He came back with a bottle of wine and a bottle of whiskey. He handed her the bottle of wine and she took it, laughing.

“I don’t get a glass?”

“You said one drink,” Rhysand said, plopping back down on the couch beside her. He nodded toward the bottle. “That’s one drink when a glass is omitted.” He held up a half empty bottle of whiskey. “As is this.”

Feyre chuckled and held up the wine bottle. “Cheers.”

Rhysand clinked his bottle against hers and pressed it against his lips. It burned down his throat, a feeling Rhysand welcomed. 

“Tell me something,” Feyre said, a minute later, eyes sparkling. 

“Tell you what?” Rhysand asked, taking another shot from his bottle.

“Anything,” Feyre smiled. “Something I don’t know.”

“You know everything I know,” Rhysand promised, sinking into the couch cushions as he watched her drink wine straight from the bottle. 

“That can’t be true,” she laughed. “You tell me something, and I’ll tell you something.”

Rhysand sighed, searching deep within his mind. I’m in love with you. Wanna fuck? Those were his only thoughts.

He decided against them both. 

“Oh,” Rhysand said, at last. “Our junior year of high school. Remember the winter formal?”

The light in Feyre’s eyes danced. “I remember dragging Cassian home drunk, yeah.”

Rhysand laughed. “Yeah, he used to be a sloppy drunk. Remember my date?”

“Macy Woodsworth?” Feyre asked.

Rhysand nodded. “Yeah, well, we fucked in the bathroom.”

“I already knew that,” Feyre laughed, hiding her face with one hand while she drank from the bottle with the other. 

“I know, but I told you that I was, like, really good at it,” Rhysand said, unable to remember that horrid night without laughter. “But, it was a nightmare.”

Feyre shook her head, grinning. “How so?”

Rhysand took a long, slow drink before he said, “I kept banging her head against the door, and I slipped a couple times. Oh, and I only lasted, like, twenty seconds. My stamina was not the best. Sex was a fairly new thing for me at that point.” 

Feyre howled before taking the bottle out of his hands and drowning herself in whiskey. Rhysand watched, adoringly, as she placed it back into his hands. Rhysand’s head was already starting to feel light as Feyre asked, “And how about now?”

Rhysand halted. “Now?”

“Your stamina?” Feyre asked, pulling her knees up beneath her on the couch and facing him.

He remembered the week before, when Feyre drunkenly kissed him in the bathroom and asked him to join her in the shower.

Rhysand sipped from his bottle. “I can’t share all my secrets.” 

Feyre tilted her head to the side. “I suppose not. But, I do suppose I have to tell you a secret now, don’t I?”

Rhysand looked up at her, beneath dark lashes. “That was the deal.” 

Feyre took a minute to think, tapping her index finger against her lips. The whiskey was half way down Rhysand’s throat when Feyre said, “Speaking of sex, I had a dream about you last night.”

Rhysand choked, whiskey sputtering out of his mouth. He coughed, for a good minute, before he collected himself. “Sorry, what?”

Her eyes were growing hazy. The alcohol had done its job. She was calm, serene. 

“I had a dream about you,” she said, blue eyes wild. “And me. And you were wearing a lot less than that.” 

She fiddled with the collar of his shirt. 

Rhysand was frozen in place. Her fingertips brushed along the skin of his neck. He was watching her, lips parted, unable to form a thought. He could hear each breath he took. 

“You’re drunk,” he whispered, laughing under his breath.

Feyre nodded. “Tipsy, maybe.” 

“How was I?” Rhysand asked, one brow raised. “In your dream.”

Feyre grinned. “Much better than you were with Macy Woodsworth, apparently.” 

Feyre pulled her hand back, but Rhysand’s reached up, his fingers wrapping around her wrist. She looked at him, met his stare. That grin faded. 

“When you look at me,” Feyre breathed, shaking her head, “it’s different than you used to look at me.” 

Rhysand brushed her hair behind her ear. “I’ve always looked at you the same way.” 

Feyre closed her eyes, dwelling in his touch. Rhysand brought Feyre’s hand back to him, and laid it against his chest, his hand covering hers over his heart. Her eyes opened, slowly.

They sat like that, staring at one another, Feyre feeling Rhysand’s heart beat, nearly pounding through his chest. 

Rhysand’s fingers brushed down her cheek, her neck, down to the neckline of her dress. 

Feyre’s breath caught.

“I’m drunk,” she whispered, her voice quiet, her fingers grasping the fabric of his shirt.

“I am, too,” he said, voice low, hitched. 

Feyre laughed, breathily, as she climbed on top of him, straddling his lap. Rhysand’s knuckles grazed her thigh. She ran her hands through his hair before leaning down, and pressing her forehead against his. 

“Feyre,” he said, voice soft, strangled. 

But he didn’t have to ask.

He didn’t have to say another word.

Feyre’s mouth pressed lightly against his. 

The first kiss was soft, gentle. 

Slow.

Innocent.

Rhysand’s hand found the back of her head, and he pulled her face closer to him, to his lips. She tasted sweet. Cherry chapstick, peach moscato, a hint of whiskey. 

He had dreamt of this moment, fantasized about it. But none of that compared to the real thing, the taste of her lips, his heart beating wildly, his entire being full of euphoric bliss. 

Her tongue brushed along his bottom lip.

The second kiss was lustful. 

Needy.

Full of longing. 

His tongue danced alongside her own, he could feel himself go hard beneath her. She whimpered, softly, as his fingers tangled into her hair. She clung to him, unable to let go, not wanting to let go.

Rhysand didn’t want her to let go. 

The third kiss was hungry.

Desperate.

Primal. 

Rhysand longed to be inside of her, and she knew it, too.

His mouth found her neck and he sucked the tender skin just above her collarbone as she slowly, calmly, unbuttoned Rhysand’s shirt with her eyes closed. 

She pulled it down his arms and tossed it onto the floor before pushing Rhysand back against the couch and running her hands down his body.

Rhysand felt like he was dreaming.

It couldn’t be real.

But there was no mistaking the excitement, the anticipation, that thrummed through his body at her touch. Her fingers trailed from his shoulders, down across his hard chest, his abdomen, to the waist of his jeans. 

She pulled back, and Rhysand tensed with worry. But then, she pulled the straps of her dress down, until it was lying in a circle around her waist. She sat atop him, in a black laced bra, her eyes watching him, waiting for his reaction. 

Rhysand didn’t know how to react, though.

He was paralyzed by the beauty before him. 

“Touch me, Rhys,” she begged.

His lips found her body, the spot between her breasts. Her head fell back, her eyes fell shut. Her skin was warm, soft, scented of lavender and vanilla. Rhysand forgot everything else in that moment, everything but his lips against her skin. 

He unclasped her bra and it slid down her arms.

He was left staring at her breasts. 

The silence in the apartment was excruciating. Rhysand didn’t know how far he should go, when he should stop, when too far was too far. 

But Feyre was still watching him, smiling faintly. 

Rhysand palmed her breasts in his hands, his thumbs brushing over her nipples before his mouth, his tongue, found them. He sucked, gently, nipped at them with his teeth.

“Rhys.” She whispered his name, one hand knotted in his hair, the other digging into his shoulder.

Rhysand looked up at her, and he knew he must look mad, crazed, knew his eyes were bright, knew his cheeks were flushed, his breathing uneven.  

But Feyre did not hesitate.

She fiddled with the button of his jeans until they came undone. Then she stood, her dress falling to the floor, her panties soon following, and she was standing before him, bare.

Rhysand’s eyes swept over her, slowly, drinking her in, memorizing every inch of her ivory skin. 

He had never seen anything, anyone, so beautiful. 

She knelt before him and slid off his jeans, his boxer-briefs, and he watched her eyes widen as she smiled, mischievously, at the sight of him.  

Feyre’s eyes met his as her tongue brushed over the tip of his cock, just once.

Rhysand cursed, quietly, which made her sly smile widen. 

Completely aware of every sound, every movement, every breath going on between them, Rhysand held out his hand to her, a silent question, a silent plea. If she said no right then, he would have accepted it, would have said okay and walked away, but, by the Cauldron, it would have destroyed him.

But she took his hand, and he pulled her up, back on top of him, onto his lap. She hovered there, just above him, as his hands roamed her body, her neck, her shoulders, her breasts, her abdomen, her thighs. His fingers brushed over her pussy, a tease. Her breathing hitched. 

“What are you waiting for?” she breathed, breath scented of sweet wine.

What was he waiting for? He had imagined this moment so many times, too many times, so many times that he didn’t want to rush it, didn’t want to mess it up. 

But she didn’t give him time to ponder it for long. 

A noise so pure, so sensuous, tumbled from her lips as she pushed herself down on top of him. Rhysand’s head fell back against the couch, his hands clinging to her hips as they moved, as she rode his cock. He pulled her face toward him and kissed her passionately, lustfully, urgently. As her body leaned into him, the rest of Rhysand’s nerves faded. He swallowed her whole, his tongue between her lips as she moaned, quietly, into his mouth. 

And then he lost all control as he faded away, lost in the beauty and pleasure of Feyre Archeron. 

He leaned her back against the couch and nipped at her ear, her neck, her nipple, biting softly at the sensitive nub as her nails dug into the middle of his back.

“Rhys,” she begged, and the next words she whispered set him on fire. “Fuck me.”

He grabbed her by the ass and thrust himself inside of her. 

Feyre’s eyes fluttered shut as she lay before him, back arched, biting her lower lip, her brows furrowed.

Making love to Feyre was different than he’d imagined, better than he’d imagined. It was real, every minute, every second of it was real. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe she’d wake up in the morning and regret it, although he prayed to whoever the hell was listening that she didn’t, that she wouldn’t. Rhysand had fucked plenty of women through the years, but none of them felt like this. He hadn’t been in love with any of those women.

But he was in love with this woman.

This beautiful, snarky, sarcastic, kind, thoughtful, exquisite woman. 

Rhysand fell on top of her, his body beginning to tremble, damp with sweat, their bodies aligned. 

Feyre clung to him, the little sounds falling out of her mouth growing louder. She called his name, first a whisper, then she screamed it, gasping, nails embedded in the tanned skin of his back.

“Feyre,” he breathed, he moaned, as her knees began to shake, her legs wrapped around his waist. “Fuck, Feyre.”

His mouth crashed against hers as he met his climax. 

He swore his heart stopped, if just for a second.

And when he pulled back and leaned up on his elbows, his cock still inside of her, he admired her flushed cheeks, the adoration in her gray-blue eyes, her smile, soft and devious. 

She ran her fingers through his dark, damp hair, before taking his face into her hands. “Much longer than twenty seconds.”

Rhysand hung his head and laughed before meeting her eyes, once more. 

He kissed her, gently, and held her to him, afraid to let go.

~~~~~

Elain stood in the entryway of her father’s bedroom, watching him sleep.

Feyre and Rhsyand had brought him upstairs earlier that evening and dropped him in his bed. They didn’t bother removing his shoes or putting a blanket over top of him.

Elain didn’t blame them.

She was infuriated.

One night. She wanted one night where they were all together, but she couldn’t even get that. 

He had promised he would be there, had let Elain believe that he was excited, then he showed up drunk.

She should have known better. 

Should have known he would ruin it.

Elain thought about Nesta, thought about the horror on her face as their father spoke. Elain tried calling her, but she didn’t answer, her phone had been off.

All she wanted was one night.

One dinner with her family.

She watched her father sleep, and she was seething.

Drunk.

He’d shown up drunk, completely unaware of who he was impacting. No, Elain was no longer a child, but she didn’t deserve that, didn't deserve to have her father come home drunk and pass out on the dining room floor.

She suddenly realized what Feyre had dealt with for all those years before she moved out and moved in with Tamlin. 

Elain slunk back down to the kitchen and started cleaning up. The dining room was a mess, the meal she made, the meal she slaved over, hardly eaten.

She put the leftovers in the fridge, put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. 

She dragged herself upstairs and into her bedroom.

For the first time in a long time, she was ready to sleep, exhaustion drowning her out. It had been too much, it had all been too much. The emotional toll of utter disappointment consumed her.

She pulled her phone off her nightstand, ready to scroll through Pinterest until she fell asleep, when she saw she had a text message from an unknown, local number.

And when she opened it, she found the slightest hint of peace as she smiled.

Mila held a glass Coke bottle filled with water, her pink tulip peeking out of the top. She was smiling, brightly. The face of pure, innocent joy.

Got your number from Feyre, hope you don’t mind. Mila wanted you to see her flower’s new home. It was all she could talk about all night. Thank you. - Azriel

Elain read the message again before putting her phone on night mode and closing her eyes. Before she did that, though, she sent Azriel a short reply.

Of course. It was my pleasure.

~~~~~

“Goodnight.”

“G’night, uncle Azzie.”

“I love you.”

“I love you moooore,” Mila sang, and Azriel laughed. “Uncle Az?”

“Hmm?”

“Will my flower be okay tonight?”

Azriel smiled. He was laying next to her, the best he could on a twin mattress, anyway, propped up on his elbow. “Yes, I’ll make sure of it. You need to go to sleep, though. It’s late.”

She yawned, and nodded. “Okay. I miss mama.”

Azriel tried to control his facial expression, his tone, tried to keep it neutral as he said, “I know, babe, I know.”

“Will I see her again?” she asked. “Does she not love me anymore?” 

He saw the true fear in her eyes, the honest pain. Azriel leaned down to kiss her forehead, brushing back her dark, auburn hair. “Your mama loves you. She just has to go away for a little while.”

Her lip quivered, but she nodded. “Do you love me, Uncle Az?”

Azriel smiled, hating Amarantha for putting such a sweet, innocent child through such pain. “I love you very, very much.”

She nodded, sniffling. “I love you, too.”

“I know,” he whispered, and kissed her forehead. “Time for bed, okay?”

Azriel tucked Mila in, turned on her Batman nightlight, and cracked the door. He pulled a beer from the fridge and opened the sliding door, walking out onto the balcony.

He was fucking exhausted.

He sipped his beer, slowly, and sat in the late night silence. The stars were out, lighting up the night sky. Azriel always loved the Velaris night.

He didn’t have peace for long, though, because a knock came to his door. 

He glanced at his phone. It was nearly 11.

Nonetheless, he and his beer went to the front door and threw it open.

Mor was on his doormat, blonde hair pulled into a ponytail. She smiled at him, wistfully. “Hey, Az.”

Azriel laughed, softly. “I thought you weren’t coming in until tomorrow.”

“I wasn’t,” Mor admitted, “but you needed me, so I left the moment my last final ended.”

Azriel’s eyes softened as he stepped aside. Mor walked in and dropped her bag by the doormat. 

“Mila sound asleep?” She asked.

Azriel nodded, closing the door behind her. 

“And how are you?” She asked, brown eyes soft, full of worry.

Azriel leaned back against the closed apartment door. He didn’t know how he was, didn’t know how he should feel.

“Nothing surprises me anymore,” he said, honestly. “I wake up every day and expect the worst.”

Mor’s smile faded. “You’re a good man, Az.”

Azriel shook his head. “Even if that were true, it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Mor walked to where Azriel stood by the door. She took the beer from his hand, and set it aside, before taking Azriel by the hand and pulling him into her arms.

“It’s all going to be okay, Az,” Mor whispered, rubbing the back of his head as his face nestled into her shoulder. He had to lean down to wrap his arms around her waist. “It’s all going to be okay.”

Azriel clung to Mor, to her embrace, hoping that was true.

But all he could think about was Mila’s little voice, asking her uncle, Does she not love me anymore?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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 @empress-ofbloodshed​ 

Prompts:

{ “I’m gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you ever met that asshole” - Feysand } -anonymous

{ “How about Nessian needing to fake date when they go home for the holidays?!” } - anonymous

{ “could u pls do like an elriel fic where azriel is like this mysterious bad boy and elain is a goody two shoes lik aaaaa i cant get that image out of my head” } - anonymous