#elriel on AO3

[violetasteracademic]

Chapter Four: Keep the Light Alive

Summary:

Azriel discovers a heart-wrenching secret about Elain and finds renewed focus on how to restore their connection.

Warnings: Light mentions of Azriel's childhood abuse, and difficult conversations amongst the IC.

Prieview:

Azriel was usually the logical one. The one who understood sacrifice, perhaps better than anyone. It ripped his heart into shreds to throw Mor to the wolves when Kier and his Darkbringer army were needed for the war. But there was no alternative. Azriel had known it would break her, but he also knew it would be temporary. They would get through it, because getting through it was the only option. There were more than a few lifetimes worth of healing fractures among them all.

Azriel had been more than willing to sacrifice his own body and mind for centuries, honing himself into nothing more than a weapon of torture and killing to keep his court safe. Even though each body, each drop of blood branded itself onto his soul.

He had given and given, and had never asked for anything in return. Not until a gentle seer who painted his world with golden sunlight and brilliant blooms lodged herself inside his heart.

So why did this bother him so much? Why couldn't he stand the thought of Elain having to spend one more second mated to a man she didn't want?

He ordered his swarming shadows to still. Burrowed deep into his mind. He tried to think calmly and clearly. For Elain, he tried to see the bigger picture.

He could not change what had already been done. He could not plea to the Cauldron to take away her pain, to erase the threats of her unwanted mating bond. He could not go back in time to stop any of this from happening. But for now, he could take her to the Continent, and try to restore the peace they had come to find in each other those months after she first turned.

Read the rest of chapter four on AO3 here.

Catch up by finding your chapter on the master list here.

Enjoy, and thank you for being such an incredible community to write for!

[lunaatthezoo]

She'll Wait No Longer: Chapter Two

Chapter 2 is here, my loves, and it's long and delicious and full of smut. Things are getting kinky and intense up in the Townhouse kitchen. Cheeky little preview below ;)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/60399079/chapters/154288933

“I told them I wanted to clean up, so I figured I at least had to…” 

She trailed off as Azriel reached her, coming directly behind her and sweeping the backs of his hands over her shoulders, down her bare arms, all the way into the warm, soapy water. 

“It looks like you might need some help,” he purred into her ear as he started stroking her lower arms, luxuriating in the feeling of the warm bubbles. 

Elain’s body relaxed against his chest, and he felt her breathing deepen. 

“Why didn't you tell me we had a secret ally, Elain?” Azriel asked into her ear, breathing warm air right at the spot he knew would melt her further into his arms. 

His hands were now covering her own, pressing them into the bottom of the sink. His body in turn pushed into hers from behind and his cock stirred at the feeling of her ass pressed against him. 

“I wanted to, but I didn't get a chance,” she said breathlessly, as Azriel’s mouth finally found that decadent throat that would kill him one day. 

He interlaced their fingers underwater, braced on the bottom of the sink, as he moved his lips and teeth over her neck, still pressing into her from behind. Elain shivered before continuing. 

[majimbov]

“I rarely dream,” he said, his voice rough with lost sleep, “most nights are dark.”

Elain nodded politely, bashful at her own confession.

“But when I do, your hair is unbound.”

GIRRRRRLLLLL

Here on my second reread of WBITDG and dying all over again 👌🏻🥹 @bloomingdarkgarden ilysm 🫶🏻

[duskandcobalt]

Stargirl: Part Two

After a month of waiting, Azriel and Elain find themselves back in the kitchen to bring Elain's sexy vision from stargirl to life.

Ya'll know that SZA lyric "now I'm ovulating and I need rough sex" ?? This is that :)

You can read this as a standalone but if you did miss the first part, it's linked above xx

Read on AO3

4.6k words - explicit, 18+ pls

...

One month since she’d had that vision and Elain could still hardly look Azriel in the eye. In fact, she had taken to doing absolutely everything in her power to avoid him because even being in the same room as him for any longer than a couple minutes made her heart race in a way that she was sure would lead to her untimely death, immortal fae body or not.

She’d managed to suppress the memory of that morning, had pushed it just far back enough in her mind to allow her to carry out her day to day activities without remembering how he’d felt inside her. It had worked for a while but for the past few days, that stupid vision was all she could think about.

His scent was everywhere in this house, lingering in every nook and cranny - somehow clinging to her to the point where she could smell his rich cedar scent even as she lay in her own bed each night, trying to ignore the ever growing ache between her thighs. Much like she was doing right now.

 It was a different kind of torture - knowing exactly what it feels like to have sex with someone without actually having sex with them.

Elain drags her hands over her face in an attempt to regulate whatever the hell was happening to her mind and body. She thought hard, counted the days carefully… she was due for her cycle soon - had been preparing tonics with the twins to help ease the unbearable pain. She hadn’t noticed the first time she’d experienced her cycle in this body… maybe because she’d been in such a state following everything that had happened after the war that any shred of desire had been buried under the dark cloud that had seemed to follow her. But now that the cloud had lifted and she had clarity on her powers, Elain wondered if that primal need to be touched which she’d felt as a human on the days leading up to her monthly cycle hadn’t amplified in the same way as the pain. 

That had to be it. That had to be the explanation behind the intensity of the thoughts that had been plaguing her for the past three days. Thoughts so overwhelming that it was as if the floodgates had opened and all the images that she’d pushed back over the past few were hitting her at full force, all at the same time. She couldn’t concentrate on anything, had been pacing around the house like a mad woman - channelling her rampant energy into cleaning every surface in sight as if it would somehow simultaneously erase the memory of all the filthy things Azriel had said to her in her vision.

She needed a distraction immediately, needed to keep her body and mind busy.

… 

Azriel watched from the doorway of the kitchen, slightly amused and somewhat concerned, as Elain furiously scrubbed a rag over what looked to be an already spotless surface. He’d heard her storm down the stairs a little while ago. Her footsteps, usually near silent, had been so loud that they’d been audible even from the floor above hers. 

He couldn’t help himself when he rolled out of bed shortly after her, not even bothering to put a shirt on before silently making his way downstairs. He wouldn’t let his shadows take this task, needed to see for himself that she was okay. 

Elain’s hair fell in soft waves down her back, shielding the smooth expanse of bare skin left uncovered from the way her nightgown scooped low in the back. The cotton slip fell to just below her knees, the white fabric glowed golden from the light of the few candles that were scattered around the kitchen. The outline of her body was just visible through the thin material.

Azriel wasn’t stupid… didn’t need his shadows to know that she’d been avoiding him ever since that morning last month. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, wouldn’t stay in the same room as him for any longer than absolutely necessary. The one time his fingers accidentally brushed hers when he passed her a dish at dinner just two nights ago, she’d blushed so profusely and fled the dining room almost immediately, claiming that she’d forgotten something in the kitchen only to come back empty handed a few minutes later.

 He might've found her behaviour funny if he didn’t miss her so damn much. 

Things had changed after that day, after those thirty seconds. He hadn’t realised how the quiet moments they shared had functioned much like his siphons - tempering the tension between them into something manageable. Without the outlet of their conversations, the tension had become unbearable. But even if missed her, he didn’t blame her. It wasn’t like he’d been able to get that moment out of his mind either.

She’d been making cinnamon rolls for him, explaining why she preferred to grind the spice herself when her eyes had glazed over and she’d stopped speaking mid sentence. Azriel’s entire body had tensed, dread flooding him as he prepared for the worst. He’d witnessed her have a few visions before and they’d always been dark, always alluded to something foreboding. Each time, the way she’d go completely still and her breathing would halt, made his own heart stall until the haze lifted and she returned to herself.

This time had been different. 

Elain’s breath had still hitched, her hands went slack and the rolling pin she’d been holding fell to the floor. She had gripped the counter with such force as if she was doing her best to keep herself upright. Then her chest began moving, the rise and fall of her breasts rapidly picking up pace as her eyebrows pulled together.

He was just about to get up and try to get her out of this vision and back to him when her scent hit him, that familiar honey and jasmine, but amplified - something even sweeter. He knew it was the scent of her arousal, had known it immediately but it was further confirmed when her lips parted into a pretty ‘O’ and a soft sound escaped them. His own body had reacted on its own accord to the noises coming out of her mouth only to be rendered absolutely useless seconds later when he heard his name and every inch of him froze in shock. 

“Azriel,” she had breathed, quiet but clear. There was no mistaking it. No pretending that she had said anything else.

The knowledge that she was having a vision about sex was one thing, but knowing that she was seeing him threatened to bring him to his knees. 

Even after she’d come back into her body, after he’d asked her if she was okay, even after Cassian had come down and Elain had fled upstairs -  all he could think of was how much he wanted to hear her make those noises again, how much he wanted to make her say his name like that. For a whole month now, all he thought of when he closed his eyes at night was Elain’s mouth - the colour of her lips. He wondered if he got her out of her dress, if her nipples would match the pink of her lips. If he spread her open, how would the colour of her sex compare?

… 

“Do you see dirt that others can’t with those powers of yours?” Elain jumps at the low voice, her hand landing against her chest in an attempt to calm her heart as she turns to face him. 

She hadn’t realised anyone else was in the house tonight. Feyre and Rhys were away at the cabin, Nesta and Cassian at the House of Wind. She thought Azriel was in the Hewn City for the night but he must’ve come back earlier in the evening without her realising. 

Her stomach tightens, her thighs involuntarily pressing together at the sight of him. He’s shirtless, tan arms crossed in front of his absurdly broad chest as he leans against the doorway to the kitchen. Those godforsaken sleep pants sit low as ever on his hips and Elain tries very, very hard to look away from the outline of what’s underneath them.

“What?” It’s all she can say, the word leaving her lips in an embarrassing squeak as she finally drags her eyes back up to his face. She crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly extremely aware of how thin her nightgown is when she realises where his eyes linger as they sweep over her.

“You’ve been cleaning more than usual.” He answers. “Even things that are already clean… like that countertop.” His chin juts towards the surface she’d just wiped down for the fourth or fifth time tonight.

“There was a… crumb…” She says it like a question, like she doesn’t believe her own lie. 

“Are you going to tell me why you’ve been avoiding me?” Azriel straightens, his arms falling to his side as he leaves the threshold and walks towards her, stopping just a few feet from where she’s standing. 

Elain draws in a long breath as she tries to make peace with the fact that he clearly isn’t skirting around the topic any longer.

“I don’t… I haven’t been…” 

“You said my name.” He interrupts her fumbling words. “You said my name and then you haven’t been able to look me in the eyes since.”

There it was - the answer to the question that had been haunting her all these weeks. 

She’d said his name. Out loud. 

She’d said his name out loud and he had heard her. Azriel knew that the vision had been about him and she could just about die from embarrassment.

“Tell me what you saw, Elain.” He takes another step forward and her breath catches in her chest. 

The sound of her name from his lips sends a ripple of anticipation through her along with a renewed wave of arousal that she feels high on her thighs. By the slightest flare of his nostrils, she knows he can scent it on her, too. 

“I can’t.” She shakes her head, looks away from his face and looks at his bare chest instead - studies the tattoos there. Another mistake. All she wants is to know what it would feel like to run her fingers over those tattooed muscles.

“You can.” Azriel’s directly in front of her now and the scent of him has her head spinning. It’s all too much to handle and perhaps it’s her hormones but the mortification of him knowing that she’d had a vision about him gives way to pure arousal with the proximity of his body to hers.

“Will you at least tell me if you liked what you saw?” He asks when she still doesn’t say anything. He’s standing so close to her and she’s so dizzy with need that part of her wonders if this is another one of the dreams that have been haunting her nights recently.

Elain nods slowly. Azriel hums, his eyes flicker with something she can’t quite place. He’s silent for a moment, his thumb tracing his full bottom lip. She wants to run her own thumb along it.

“Do you think about it at night? When you’re alone?” His question sends a shiver down her spine. 

She nods again, bites down on her own lip to stop the whimper that threatens to escape her.

“Do you touch yourself when you think about it?” 

“Yes.” Elain breathes - admits to him with that singular word that she often spends her nights in bed with a hand between her thighs, desperately trying to find relief from the ache that plagues her by imagining his fingers in place of her own.

“Show me.”  She gasps as Azriel’s hands land on her waist, fingers pressing into her as he lifts her easily onto the countertop before stepping back. The cold granite is a welcome relief against the burn of her flushed skin. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me.” 

Elain can’t believe this is happening. That her vision may actually be coming to fruition. She cannot reconcile in her mind that she’s perched on the kitchen countertop in her sister’s home, her nightgown hitched up around her thighs and Azriel - Azriel! - has just asked her to pleasure herself in front of him. Most of all, she can’t believe that she doesn’t even really hesitate before she slides the white cotton of her dress further up her thighs.

Her desire overrides the thought at the back of her mind that tells her maybe she shouldn’t be doing this. That she has a mate and even if it means nothing to her, that she should figure out that situation before doing whatever this is. But Elain thinks that maybe… maybe if she just does this once, if she allows herself this one moment, this one night, to get it out of her system then she can sort it all out with a clear head afterwards. That maybe if they do this just once, make her vision a reality, they can go back to how easy it was between them before.

She opens her legs just enough to allow her hand to fit in between them and traces a trembling finger over herself. Her cheeks burn when she feels how wet she is and that warmth consumes her entire body when she risks looking at Azriel and sees the hunger written clearly across every inch of him. Those blessed pants of his doing very little to conceal the physical proof of his arousal.

Elain swallows back any lingering shyness and circles the nerves at the apex of her sex twice before she slides two fingers inside herself. She watches as his hazel eyes flit between her face and the hand between her thighs, as if he can’t decide which bit of her to focus on. Her eyes close as she pumps her fingers, savouring the sound of Azriel’s quiet moan at the show she’s putting on for him. 

She drags her arousal up and over her clit, increasing the pressure of her fingers to match the pressure low in her stomach when she feels large hands settle gently above her knees. The callouses and scars are gloriously rough against her supple skin as he moves higher up her legs, one hand sliding in between them. His fingers brush hers - silently asking for permission. Elain removes her hand and spreads her legs wider, offering herself to him.

His eyes catch hers just as he slips one finger inside her. She draws in a sharp breath at the feeling of that singular finger of his stretching her more than two of her own. 

“I’ve thought about this for so long.” His lips brush her throat. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you like this.”

She wants to tell him that she feels the same, that she’s wanted him long before she’d had that vision, but Azriel adds another finger and his thumb presses against her clit and she’s lost for words. His other hand pushes her dress up around her waist before moving down to wrap around one of her calves, bending her leg up so her foot is on the counter. He does the same to the other leg and Elain leans back on her elbows to compensate for the new angle. 

She’s unable to look away as he stands, eyes raking over her as he nudges her knees wider before bending down. His hands are back on her, one spreading her open while two fingers of the other sink back inside her and curl upwards. Their moans combine, echoing through the quiet kitchen when he lowers his mouth and gets a taste of her for the first time, his tongue runs flat up her centre before his lips wrap around her clit.

It only takes a couple minutes under the spell of his tongue before Elain is coming for him, her thighs threatening to close around his head. Azriel takes it all in stride, doesn’t let up until her legs relax and her hands are in his hair pushing him away. 

“Is that what we were doing?” He teases, pressing a kiss to the curve of each hip as he looks up at her. “In your vision?”

“No.” She pants. His hands are running over her thighs, up under her dress. His fingers graze her stomach, trace along the underside of her breasts before his hands are over them, palming them gently. 

“Tell me, then.” He slips his hands around her back, lifts her until she’s sitting up and they’re chest to chest. His face is inches from hers, his eyes lock on hers - he won’t let her look away this time. 

“We…” Elain can’t resist the urge to touch him anymore. She reaches out a hand, traces the black ink on his shoulder and bites back a smile when she feels him tense. “You had me… over the counter.”

Azriel’s eyes darken as he takes in her words.

Elain eases herself down until her feet are on the floor, her nails dig into Azriel’s arm as she stands on shaking legs. She looks up at him, presses her lips to the centre of his chest while her hand travels down between their bodies. She pushes the soft fabric of his pants down, feels the weight of his cock against her stomach through her nightgown. 

Her fingers wrap around him, her small hand barely able to encircle him. She looks down, swallows at the sight of him hard and leaking in her palm. She drags her hand up the thick length of him and tries to figure out how he’ll even fit inside her. 

“You can take it.” He must’ve seen the apprehension in her eyes when they’d widened as she looked at him. “You know you can take it.”

His fingers land on her hips again, turning her so quickly that she doesn’t even register what’s happening until he presses on the small of her back and leans her forward until she’s bent over the counter. His back hovers over hers, his lips drag along her shoulder and up her neck until his teeth gently close around her earlobe. “Is this how you want it?”

“Please.” Elain turns her head to look at him over her shoulder and pushes back into him, desperate to finally have him in her.

“So eager.” Azriel grins against her skin, pulling her dress back up her legs until it’s bunched around her waist. His hands are on her ass, fingers kneading into her flesh. “Spread your legs a bit wider for me.”

Elain listens, spreads her legs and pulls herself up onto her tiptoes to compensate for their difference in height. Azriel guides himself along her sex, coats himself in her release, and settles the broad head of his cock at her entrance. 

“If it’s too much, tell me.” He eases in, just an inch - pausing when she curses at the way he stretches her. 

“More.” She tells him, resolute. He’s barely even inside her and it already feels so good, the slight pain of her body adjusting to him only adds to the pleasure. “I can take it.” 

Elain turns her head to the side, sees the reflection of them mirrored in the dark window. She has the fleeting thought that maybe they shouldn’t be doing this in the kitchen, in front of a window where anybody could see them. The thought disintegrates when she watches Azriel sink into her in one drawn out movement until his hips are flush against her backside. 

He groans, somehow pushing in just a little further until there’s no space between their bodies at all and then he starts moving - gives her long, teasing strokes that has her anxious for more. 

“Fuck, Elain.” Azriel’s fingers dig into her hips and she prays that the imprint of them lingers long after this encounter ends. She wants the proof that this happened to stay with her. “So wet, so fucking tight for me. How am I supposed to hold back when you feel like this?”

“Don’t.” She pleads, pushes back hard against him to prove her point. “Don’t hold back.”

His teeth graze her shoulder as his hands settle on the counter beside hers right as he thrusts in again, the momentum sends her surging forward, cold granite presses hard against her nipples. The strap of her nightgown falls off her shoulder as her hands slam against the smooth stone to keep her from collapsing completely.

“Like that?” The hint of arrogance in his tone tells her he already knows the answer. 

“More.” She grits out. 

The assurance with which she says it is all he needs before he complies, picking up his pace as he fucks her. His lips move against her ear, talking her through it.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this? To fuck you like this? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about the way your pretty little cunt would feel around my cock?”

Elain whimpers at his words. The language he uses causes her to clench around him.

“It’s even better than I imagined.” His pace is relentless. Elain’s nails scratch at the surface as she fights for leverage. 

She’s already close when she feels his hand land sharply on her ass, the sound of the slap coupled with the light sting forces a small scream out of her. 

“Again.” She demands, surprising even herself - she hadn’t expected that she’d like that so much.

“Greedy girl… you like it rough like this, do you?” His palm lands against her with a little more force. “Want me to fuck you so hard that you think of my cock with every step you take tomorrow?”

“Yes, yes! Harder, Azriel. Please!” Elain begs him.

“Fuck.” Azriel moans as his hand meets her ass again hard enough that her skin goes pink. “Say that again.” 

“Harder.” Elain repeats, waits for the impact.

“No.” Azriel delivers a particularly hard thrust as his hand makes contact with her ass for the fourth time. He rubs over the ghost of a mark that remains on her skin, soothing it before bringing his hand down again. “Say my name.”

“Azriel.” She breathes, attempting to catch her breath. 

“Louder, Elain.” The demand in his voice has her arching her back, trying to get him even deeper inside her.

“Azriel!” She moans, louder this time. His name from her lips sets him off, has him well and truly fucking her, hard and fast, just like she’s begging him to until she’s unable to do anything else except shout his name. “Fuck, fuck… Azriel!” 

“That’s it, Elain. Scream for me, I don’t care who hears.” She feels his tongue on her neck, marking her. “Let everyone know who’s fucking you like this, yeah? Let everyone know you’re mine. Tonight, you’re mine.” 

Sex had been fine for her previously, occasionally it had even been good, but this - in this new body, with him. There was nothing like it. It’s somehow better than her vision - every sensation that she had felt was nothing compared to what she was experiencing now. Everything had intensified. The sound of skin meeting skin was louder, the burn in her calves and core even greater. The weight of him on top of her was even heavier, felt even better.

The feeling is incomprehensible. The way he fills her, the friction of his cock sliding in and out of her sex. The pure pleasure that’s quickly building low in her stomach as he angles his hips up and brings a hand in between her thighs, circling her clit. The rasp of her voice, the way her screams echo through the kitchen - through the empty house - as she comes around him. It’s all so obscene, so perfectly right.

“Good girl. You’re so fucking good for me.” Azriel praises her, fingers still moving in soft circles against her until she relaxes around him, until her breath steadies.

Elain almost cries at the emptiness she feels when he abruptly pulls out of her, his hand lightly fisting her hair to pull her up and turn her around. Her nightgown is completely askew, her breasts half exposed to the cool night air. 

Azriel makes quick work of getting her on the floor, laying her on her back as he settles back in between her legs. She draws her knees up, wraps her legs around his waist, pulls him closer. He threads his fingers through hers as he brings their joined hands above her head. “I need to see your pretty face when you come for me this time.”

She wasn’t sure if she even could come again but she’s still so sensitive from her last orgasm that when he enters her again and hits that spot inside her at the same time his pelvis makes contact with her clit, her body goes taut. This release hits her even harder than the second and she cries out his name. It’s so overwhelming that actual tears form in the corner of her eyes. Azriel’s hands clutch hers tighter, pinning her down as his own rhythm starts to falter.

“I’m right there with you.” His voice is strained. “Gonna come so deep inside you. Would you like that, Elain? Want me to come in you?” 

“Yes.” Elain replies without an ounce of hesitation, her eyes burning into his. “Make me yours.”

She doesn’t take her eyes off him as he finishes, as his hips slam tight against hers. She studies the beautiful planes of his face, the way his lips form her name - commits to memory the way he moans it as he comes. He’s buried so deep inside her that she can feel the way his cock twitches as he fills her. He gives her so much of himself that she feels it drip down her thighs even before he pulls out of her.

Azriel presses a kiss to her cheek, carefully untwining his hands from hers as he sits back on his heels and kneels in between her legs. Elain raises up onto her elbows to watch as he brings two fingers between thighs. She lets out a quiet cry at the feeling of his fingers gliding over her overstimulated sex, collecting their combined arousal. 

When he brings his fingers up to her mouth, she opens for him. Wraps her lips around them and sucks. Their eyes are still locked as she licks his fingers clean.

“So beautiful.” Azriel whispers, withdrawing his fingers from her mouth. He cups the side of her neck with that same hand and lowers his lips to hers for the first time.

It should’ve been the last time, too. 

One night. One time. That’s what she’d told herself just a little while ago. It was stupid, really, to think that was even a possibility.

“Elain?” Azriel’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts and back to reality, as it alway seemed to do..

“Hm?” She hums, their faces are barely an inch apart. He pulls her up and into his lap, holds her close to him. Her legs wrap around his waist, her arms drape around his shoulders. 

“What’s your preferred cleaning solution because I think the counter might be in need of a clean.” 

Elain can’t help but laugh at the small smirk on his face. She’s amused but also relieved, so thankful that he’s back to interrogating her. So grateful that they can resume these easy moments and their shared laughter. 

“I’m partial to vinegar…” She bites her lip, her eyes flickering down to his lips. “But I don’t think it’s clean up time just yet.” 

“No?” Azriel’s unable to hold back his smile. 

“No.” Elain shakes her head, slotting her mouth over his for their second kiss. 

Once was never going to be enough. 

[slytherhys]

Too Sweet (for me) - Part I

A/N: everybody say thank you Hozier for releasing this song and for making me wanna write smut inspired by it. (this is a 2 parts oneshot and chapter II will be posted tomorrow! Enjoy :)

TW: explicit language; explicit sexual content

Part II

Word Count: 906 words | You can also find this story on AO3!

Red, fae lights flashed through the dimmed hall of the pleasure hall, each spark of light revealing bodies moving, dancing, grinding to the obnoxiously loud music as patrons lost themselves in each other’s unfamiliar touch. Azriel wasn’t sure if he was amused or appalled as he watched them from where he leaned against the bar, taking a sip from his whiskey glass. He settled on relieved that not a single familiar face looked back.

If the people around him were curious about why the court’s Spymaster was among them, they didn’t let it show. Other than the pretty fae looking his way with a coy smile every now and then, no one else seemed all that interested in his presence – which served him just right. He wasn’t particularly interested in making conversation. In fact, the very purpose of being here was to be able to forget about himself – about who he was, what and who he wanted – for just a single fucking moment.

He wasn’t sure he was being all that successful.

He signalled the barman for another glass, wondering if maybe the key to forgetting it all was to simply do as they all did – to get so shitfaced that the touch of a stranger wouldn’t repulse him, that his worries and doubts would disappear, drowned in a dangerous amount of alcohol that not even his Illyrian body would be able to burn through fast enough. Rhysand had seemed to think so.

Azriel wasn’t as convinced.

Not when, even three glasses of whiskey in, he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. A kaleidoscope of memories haunted him each time he blinked, painting those empty, craving moments with images of her parted pink lips, her breath, warm and wet against his skin, her hooded brown eyes. How they fluttered shut when his scarred hand wrapped around her throat. A gentle yes so sweet, it had nearly sent him to his knees.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? She was entirely too fucking sweet for him. A lightness that he knew wasn’t for him, no matter how much he craved it. No matter how much he craved her. And, Mother, did he crave her.

But he couldn’t have her. That much, had been made pretty clear.

So Azriel gulped down his drink, wincing as it burned a path down his throat. He willed it to numb him, even if he knew how unlikely it was that he’d be able to burn her memory away from his brain. But that was why was here – to stop him from wanting what he couldn’t have. Or at least to forget about it. At least for the night, he could replace her satin skin for someone else’s, and maybe the rough touch of a stranger would wash away the memory of her soft hands and all the times they had held on to him. Maybe a night spent fucking someone new would make him forget about all the fucked-up, twisted fantasies of her tied to his bed and how they had brought him release.  

He eyed the pretty fae looking his way, eyed the dancefloor with its pumping heartbeat, an incitation promising all sorts of wicked things – and let himself go.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long it took him. Didn’t particularly care about anything but the wind on his face, the cold biting into his skin, sobering him up as he flew. He clenched his hands as he landed on a familiar garden, willing his heartbeat to slow the fuck down as he blinked away the darkness that suddenly seemed to surround him. He didn’t need to look around to know where he was – he knew exactly where he was. Knew the pansies and the violets and the gardenias that peppered up the front lawn just as he knew that there wasn’t a world where he could avoid her a second longer.

This was a bad idea. A terrible idea. He had no business being here, absolutely no business wanting her to open the front door, preferably dressed in her pink satin robe, cheeks rosy and a soft smile on her lips. He had no right to smile at the thought of her welcoming him into her home, into her bed, into her body. He had no right to listen to her sweet moans, to feel her panting against his naked skin as he slid into her–

“Are you coming in?” A sweet voice interrupted him, indecent thoughts coming to a halt. Azriel whirled around, taking in the sight in front of him. Shivers ran down his spine as he watched her watch him back. Leaning against the door, hair tousled and falling down her back, Elain Archeron was a fucking vision. Her cheeks were rosy, her arms crossed over her chest. Under her open, pink satin robe he could see a glimpse of lace that had him swallowing down every obscene thought going through his mind. Elain tilted her head, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking about and wasn't particularly impressed. For a second, he wondered if she would take back her question and send him back to his apartment, but without waiting for a reply, she turned around and went back inside, leaving the front door wide open. An invitation if there ever was one.

He knew, without a doubt, he had no fucking right to follow her inside.

And yet, he did.

[viridianevergarden]

I sincerely hope we will get flash backs into the moments of elriel that were mentioned by the others through Elain or Az’s eyes. I’m sure we will but…

I need to know what they were talking about, if they bantered and joked.

I need to know what they talked about until 3 in the morning aside from those gardening plans.

I need to know about those subtle brushes of fingers and more about those glances.

I need to know just how many times they may have met or stumbled upon one another outside of the prying eyes of the inner circle.

I need to know if Azriel selflessly and instinctually offered to help her even more than we’ve seen. Wordlessly, even.

They understand each other through their eyes alone. I want to see more of that.

They have so much potential to have the cutest, softest, and most precious love out of the 3:3 to me. Friends to lovers is a new approach in acotar.

Feysand has that unwavering, everlasting love.

Nessian has that powerful, passionate love.

Elriel has that quiet, precious love.

[sjmgirlie]

Hello friends ❤️

So I did a thing (and was accepted by ao3) and started my first ever fan fic. And, as you may already guess, it’s an Elriel story.

A Court of Blooming Sight 🌹❤️🗡️🥀🦇

I’ve always wanted to be a writer since I was young, but well, I was never actually a good writer lol. And therefore, I became an accountant.

But this story is something that has been turning in my mind since I really stepped foot in this fandom. I’ve had the pleasure of talking with so many amazing people that I just felt inspired by all of your theories and words about a couple that is truly special to me.

Luckily, since it took a while to be accepted, I’ve already completed 8 chapters. I promise to stay as consistent with updates as possible.

This story happens post ACOSF and HOFAS and is staying as close to cannon as possible. I’ll be flagging any theories I have used from any Eriel accounts as well!

Anyways, hopefully it doesn’t suck!

[annaskareninas]

My ACOTAR Fanfiction Masterlist

(Link to my ao3 profile)

Elucien:

All Roads Lead To You = completed, 5 chapters, 31k words, rating E // Five years after the war with Hybern, the world is relatively peaceful, and Elain is relatively bored. When she decides to travel the Continent in search of her purpose, the last thing she expects is to run into her almost-mate Lucien Vanserra at a wine bar in Montesere -- and get very drunk and go swimming. Together. The next morning, she flees in shame -- but wherever she goes, Lucien just keeps on appearing. As if it's destiny.

Phoenix Rising = 140k words and 32 chapters, rating M // It has been twenty-five years since Elain was Made. Ten years since she lost the love of her life, Azriel, defeating Koschei. Eight years since Beron Vanserra claimed the Dread Crown and became High King of Prythian, forcing Elain and her friends to scatter to the four corners of the world. Lost in her grief, Elain works as a nurse in a war hospital in Rask -- until one day, she recognises a patient: Lucien Vanserra, the last free Heir. Charged with healing Lucien's mortal wounds, she finds herself drawn into an adventure -- of dragons, prophecies, allies and magic. But Lucien has secrets too, and as she grows closer to him, it is her heart that faces the biggest test.

Lonely Together = one-shot, 7k words, rating E // Always the odd one out, always the one without a partner -- Elain can't help the loneliness that plagues her immortal life. Until one Starfall, she decides to finally make a move on her mate, Lucien -- one one condition: that he's not gentle.

Feysand:

A Rake By Any Other Name = Regency AU one-shot, 7k words, rating E, the first in my Regency Romance one-shot series // Feyre gets more than she bargains for when she's caught at a political radical meeting by Rhysand, Viscount Velaris.

Nessian:

Burning Bright = Regency AU one-shot, 8k words, rating E, the second in my Regency Romance series // Dissatisfied with her life living off her brother-in-law's money, Nesta finds solace in Cassian, the groundskeeper, who thinks nothing of proper society -- and everything of pleasure.

Azris:

The Tender and Growing Night = Regency AU one-shot, 8k words, rating E, the third in my Regency Romance series // When Rhysand brings Azriel to a new gentlemen's club, he realises this is a place where he can truly be himself, for the first time ever. And the club's owner, Lord Eris Vanserra, has caught his eye...

May The Best Man Win = Killing Eve AU two shot, 17k words, rating E // MI6 agent Azriel Singer is haunted by the one killer he could never catch - Eris Vanserra, who happens to be nurturing an obsession for him.

Elriel:

I Dream About You = one-shot, 5k words, rating E // Azriel returns to the House of Wind to find Elain, alone; it's time for her to tell him what she really thinks.

Other:

In Spring, Becomes the Rose = Elain/Lucien/Tamlin, 82k words, 20 chapters, rating E // Elain volunteers to go to the Spring Court to help rebuild, with Lucien alongside her. She expects to hate Tamlin -- to hate them both, actually -- but the truth couldn't be further from it. As well as rebuilding a court and redecorating a house, Elain finds herself grappling with irresistible feelings for both males -- as well as strange new powers and magic she must learn to use before it's too late.

Two For The Show = Elain/Lucien/Azriel, 25k words, 5 chapters, rating E // Elain runs into two rich, attractive men at a bar. They both want her. And each other. Sex, dating and humour ensues!

This post will be regularly updated when I post more! Enjoy <3

[lurkinggirlie]

ELRIEL FANFICS

Deleted and now re-uploaded elriel fanfics!

First fic- a winter solstice takes place during ACOFAS. What sort of conversation did Elain and Azriel have about the garden plans?

second fic- Flower fields. Azriel takes Elain to a flower field, and she wants to thank him. inspired by a tweet about a guy putting a flower in the girl’s hair while she gives him a blo*job. (Azriel’s shadows help)

[respecttheshoes]

Part 4 of The Bonds that Break Series

Spiral on Ao3.

Summary: This is Part Four of The Bonds that Break series told in Elain’s POV.

Elain decided to reject her mating bond with Lucien before the war with Koschei and had not seen him in years. She has been married to Azriel since the war ended and thought her life was content – until he returns home from a mission and confesses to her that the mating bond had snapped for him. His mate was none other than the Night Court’s deadliest assassin, Gwyn, the same female that Elain had been jealous of for years. Can their marriage survive this revelation? With her world in turmoil, what will Elain do now?

Part One – Agony in Gwyn’s POV Part Two – Faded in Azriel’s POV Part Three – Snapped with dual Gwyn/Azriel POV

(This is not a happy Elriel tale …)

[2003bookstoread]

A list of my favorite fictional book couples :) like if you agree

In no particular order

Jude/Carden

Aaron/Juliette (Ella)

Alice/Jasper

Finnick/Annie

Elain/Azriel

Aelin/Rowan

Dorian/Manon

Violet/Xaden

Kazi/Jase

Misery/Lowe

Kaz/Inej

… that’s literally the only couples I can think of. I know some of them are a little niche but I wish I could find more fanfics of them. Recommendations are always welcome!

Who are your favorite couples??

(Just added Kaz and Inej!!)

[lunaatthezoo]

She'll Wait No Longer: Chapter One

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

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

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

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

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

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

[nikethestatue]

Elain's Potatoes

Elriel Month: Happy Solstice

Summary: It's Solstice and Elain Archeron is suffering from her cycle. Azriel sneaks out to see her, and cooks her Solstice dinner, and some potatoes, with a twist. He is also on the forefront of the advances of menstrual pad design. Romantic fluff ensues.

(what book was Elain reading?)

Nobody dies in this one, but it's a biggie--8K words

“Elain cancelled on me.”

Nesta’s lower lip jutted forward, and even though she attempted not to show that she was upset, Cassian could see that she was in fact, upset.

“Elain cancelled?” he peered at his wife in confusion, “Elain never cancels,” he argued and Nesta sighed and sipped her coffee from her huge cup, which Azriel brought her from the continent–along with this new drink, called coffee. Cassian’s had it before, because Azriel was a fan, but coffee was bitter and strange tasting. Personally, he preferred tea. Nesta found a kindred spirit in Azriel, and they liked their coffee as black as their souls. 

“Did she say why?” he asked, taking a bite of his eggs.

This was a busy week–Solstice week. It was possible that Elain was running around, preparing, buying gifts and all that, but still, it was unusual for Elain to cancel on anyone, let alone Nesta. The two of them have been looking forward to a day together–shopping, buying mantle ornaments and tinsel, and then they were expecting to meet Feyre for afternoon tea at one of the Tea Houses. Cassian had no say in the matter, but he frowned upon these afternoon teas, because it was just an excuse to eat unhealthy things such as scones and pastries, but it’s not like anyone would listen to him if he told them to indulge in a nice salad. So he kept his mouth shut. At least the three sisters were happy(ier)--nicely filled out, all three with a purpose, one a mother, two mated, the third…well, she was a head-scratcher that’s for sure, and Cassian didn’t exactly know what was happening with her. Elain, so very beautiful, soft, likeable, kind, good natured, and sweet, had way too many men problems. 

“She has her cycle,” Nesta grunted.

Cassian cleared his throat and buried his face in his tea cup. He wasn’t in the mood to discuss his sister-in-law’s bleeding. But he did ask, “so she’ll be indisposed for the whole thing?”

“I don’t know,” Nesta admitted, “but we won’t make her come to dinner if she doesn’t want to come.”

Cassian took a sip of his tea and turned the page of the newspaper that he was reading. He loved these quiet mornings with his wife, his beautiful mate. It’s been less than a year since they had their gorgeous mating ceremony, followed by a much quicker and quieter wedding, where it was only their families present. Nesta wanted a human ceremony and Cassian didn’t mind it. Since then, they’ve been falling in love. The time’s been quiet, and wholly theirs. They went on their honeymoon to Day Court, where Helion offered to give them a seaside villa, which was absolutely enchanting. Nesta wouldn’t leave the azure waters of the sea, swimming from morning ‘till night, only leaving to eat, nap and make love. 

“Azriel will be disappointed,” Cassian muttered absently, turning the page again. 

Nesta threw him a sharp look and raised a brow at his comment. 

“Why would he be disappointed?”

Cassian shrugged and explained, sounding very casual, “Well, you know how he likes the odd little gifts that she gives him for Solstice. I think he will miss that.”

Nesta hummed to herself but didn’t say anything further. 

Did Cassian finally begin suspecting something?

-

Azriel arrived at the River Estate on time, as usual, but without any enthusiasm or any pep in her step.

The shadows that swarmed him already informed him that Elain was not at the house, and he wondered if she was just running late. That was unlike her though. She was punctual, just like he was. Additionally, he assumed that she would be busy preparing dinner, maybe baking Feyre’s birthday cake. But the shadows confirmed that she was definitely absent.

The moment he opened the doors, he was swallowed up in the glitz of the estate, the abundant and glamorous decorations and the scent of roasting chicken.

Try as he might, Azriel couldn't get used to the River Estate. It didn’t feel like anything to him. A shell. In the past, they’d all cram into the townhouse, and it was tight, but heaps of fun all the same. Sometimes, they celebrated Solstice at the House of Wind, and that was a free-for-all of wild shenanigans. One time he woke up dressed as a cow. Another time Mor and Cassian were betting that they could swing from a chandelier–not surprisingly, both fell on their asses and the chandelier fell on the floor, which resulted in the five of them sweeping a million crystals the following day. Cassian swore that he wouldn’t go barefoot into that room even now. Mother’s tits, those were some fun times!

The River Estate made him tense. Like he was in the presence of his High Lord, and not his brother and friend. The baby and Elain were the only two things that he liked about being here–they softened the edges, and made the vast place feel more homey. There have been a few times when Rhys and Feyre were out, and Elain stayed with the baby. Azriel made sure to ‘accidentally’ drop by on those days, under the pretence of delivering something for Rhys. Or ‘forgetting’ that his High Lord wasn’t around to see him. Whether Elain realised that he was chancing an evening with her, he was not entirely sure, but Elain always managed to see right through him. It doesn’t matter. Those evenings were special. They cared for the baby together–fed him, played with him, bathed him, changed him and put him to sleep. Elain had a terrible singing voice, though she played the fortepiano, as he found out. He, on the other hand, had a very good voice, but he never sang…not in front of anyone. When it was just the three of them though, he felt pretty comfortable, and he sang some Illyrian lullabies to his nephew. Elain sat, with her cheek propped on her knee and listened quietly.

“Where is my beautiful mate?”

It was the first thing that reached Azriel’s ears the moment he stepped into the house. Lucien’s voice. Attempting to school his scowl into something presentable and not frightening, Azriel removed his jacket and then stepped into the large parlour where the family and guests were gathered. His eyes immediately went to the window seat, where Elain liked to sit when there were larger gatherings–observing, being part of the party, and yet, always separate. Much like he did himself. Tonight, the seat was empty, and something broke inside his chest at the sight of it, at the absence of her. That’s all he was looking forward to tonight–just stealing a few moments together, exchanging a few sentences, brushing his hands over hers, maybe the opportunity to wrap his finger around her braid. Between Rhysand and Lucien hovering on the periphery, he knew that any chances of something more meaningful would be impossible, but he was used to living on crumbs of opportunities and affection that were thrown his way.

“She won't be attending tonight,” he heard Feyre answer.

“Oh, what happened?” Lucien sounded concerned.

There was a pause, and then Feyre offered, “she is indisposed’.

“Doesn't she live here?” Lucien pressed.

“No,” Cassian boomed, “Ellie moved out and now lives at the townhouse.”

“So, I won’t see her at all this week?” Lucien inquired meekly.

“I am sorry, Lucien. I don’t think so. I should’ve let you know…”

The shadows immediately peeled away from Azriel’s body and slithered off and away, rushing to investigate further. 

-

Mor was getting a platter of cookies and another bottle of wine from the kitchen, when an iron grip clasped her upper arm.

“Aw, Az, what the Hel?” she hissed, not having heard him materialise behind her.

“I need you to do something for me,” he said quietly.

“Now?” she cried and he squeezed her arm tighter, warning her to keep quiet.

“Get off me,” she growled, ready to go to battle with him. “What do you want?”

“Yes now,” he said simply, and gently, but urgently dragged her into the hallway.

“What in the world is so urgent on Solstice?!?” she slapped his chest. 

It was cute, but not as cute as when Elain did it. 

Sometimes, he did something incorrectly on purpose, so Elain could get all adorably frustrated and huffy with him, and push him or slap his chest. He really loved it. 

“I need you to winnow me,”

Her brows knitted together and she gave him a look of pure incomprehension and disgust.

“Are you drunk?” she demanded.

He wasn’t, but he wasn't so sure about her. 

“I am not winnowing you, Azriel,” she grunted at him angrily, rolling her eyes at him. “You can winnow yourself! Why are you wasting my time when I just want to go and get more ham and drink more wine,”

Hissing through his teeth, he muttered, “you don’t need any more wine, trust me.”

“Fuck you,” she snapped rudely.

She could feel the response on his own lips, but he held back. 

“Mor, I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” he said seriously. 

She finally set the bottle down on the counter and he let go of her arm, which she then crossed on her ample chest.

Sometimes, it surprised him that he’d been so attracted to her once in his life. He supposed that when he was a seventeen year old virgin, who barely even spoke to women, let alone saw them in Widnhaven, she seemed amazing. Indeed, she was–brashly beautiful, with her golden hair and big lips and large brown eyes. He even saw something of Elain in her–same intense beauty, though Elain’s was always softer and more delicate. But personalities–-why did he think that this could ever work? They had nothing in common. Their temperaments were polar opposites–she pushed and pressured, she needed things to be done her way, she wanted and if she didn't get it, she demanded it. Azriel did not mind, generally. However, it did grate on his nerves at times, and also, emotionally tired him out. He wasn’t one for endless conflict, acquiescence, and arguments. 

Thinking about all of this, only made him want to get out of here sooner and go where he really wanted to be.

“Why can’t you winnow?” she insisted. 

“I can winnow, but you need to come with me. It will only take 2 minutes of your time. You don’t even need to put on a coat,” he assured her. She frowned, disbelieving, but at least she was listening.

He continued quickly, “I just need you to let me into the townhouse.”

The request clearly confounded her. Her expression was befuddled to say the least, and she just stared at him dumbly.

“Rhys’s townhouse?” she asked at last.

He nodded.

“Why in the world……….oh,” her brown eyes blew up and turned into orbs, as comprehension dawned on her. “Ohhhh…ohh,”

“By the Cauldron, stop it!” he snapped at her.

Thinking, she cried out, “what are you going to do?!? Stalk her creepily?! She has her cycle, and I don’t see why and what you can do for her,”

“Exactly!” he nodded. “It’s Solstice, and she is completely alone. Suffering and in pain,”

“She might be just sleeping,” Mor argued reasonably.

“Or not,” he cut, “and even if she is sleeping, someone still should be with her. Caring for her,”

“And you are the one to care for her?”

“And why not?” he asked defensively, suddenly wondering if this was actually a bad idea. What was his plan, exactly? Barge into Elain’s bedroom, while she was bleeding and in pain? They were…what were they? Friends? Unresolved lovers? Definitely not lovers. He could only wish and hope, but that was in the past. Now, he was to be content with just being her acquaintance. Who desperately wanted to care for her during her cycle. Something that only mates and husbands did for their females. Lucien, certainly wasn't breaking down doors to get to her right now. He was happy to drink Rhysand’s expensive wine and eat the delicious roast. 

Mor looked him over and said, “you aren’t exactly the caring type, Az.”

“I care when I want to,” he said, getting tired and annoyed with this conversation. “Can we go now?”

She hummed and pursed her lips, saying, “I am not sure we should. It’s her personal space, I don’t want to intrude.”

“You don’t need to come in,” his patience was running out. “And if she gets upset, I will take all the blame,”

“Hmm, I don't think so,”

“Morrigan!” she snarled.

“No, I don’t think I will do it,” she concluded. 

“Fine,” he said calmly, but a clear threat was thundering through his deep midnight voice.

“I am glad we agree,”

“I will tell everyone that you are seeing Gwyneth,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

She gasped and clamped her hand over his mouth.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me,” he challenged.  

Azriel was the only one who knew about the two of them. Furthermore, he was the only one who knew about Mor’s ‘secret’, though why the hell she kept it so, he had no idea. 

It was scandalous though–Mor and Gwyneth. Mor was the teacher, regardless of Gwyn’s Carynthian status, and Mor was 500 years older, vastly experienced, and one of the founders of the Library, in charge of the priestesses’ well-being, and identities. A relationship with one of her students would be considered unethical at best, especially since Gwyn still lived in the Library and still served as a priestess there. 

“You asshole,” she moaned. “You are such an asshole!”

He smirked and offered her his arm.

“Ready?”

“I hope she fucking throws you out!”

“She won’t,” he said confidently.

“And I’ll tell Lucien,” she threatened.

Breezily, he waved his hand and muttered, “Oh, I am terrified!”

-

A minute later, they stood in front of the white marble townhouse, which was decorated with pine wreaths and had a crooked snowman standing in front of it from the snowfall that they experienced in the fortnight. The snowman had a carrot for a nose and seven blue dots scattered around its body. Mor blew on her hands and chuckled at the snowman.

“Maybe she won’t throw you out after all,” 

They entered the front garden and she poked at the two giant wilted leaves from some plant, which were stuck in the snowman’s back.

“Wings,” she noted.

He noticed everything as well and was quite pleased with the snowman.

She turned to face him and prodded his chest with her finger.

“You promise you won’t say anything to anyone!”

“I promise,” he agreed. “Though I don’t know if it’s me you should be worrying about.”

“Who else knows?” she exclaimed worriedly.

“No one. But I am curious how you’ll explain getting that pegasus from Helion and gifting it to Gwyn, after Gwyn will inevitably blabber about it to Nesta, who’ll blabber about it to Cassian, who will definitely blabber about it to Rhys. Because there is no fucking way that Gwyn isn’t going to be talking about her new flying horse.”

Mor let out a muffled, pathetic sigh and grabbed Azriel’s arm, turning him to face her. 

“By the gods,” she lamented breathlessly, the seriousness of the situation dawning on her. “Az!”

“What?”

Pleading, she asked, “What do I do?”

He shrugged, still feeling petty over how she almost refused to take him here.

“Azriel!”

“What do you want me to say, Morrigan?” He opened his hands widely. “I can do many things, but keeping Gwyneth Berdara silent isn’t one of them.”

“But if Rhys finds out…” her voice died in a heavy exhale. 

“Yeah, there would be hell to pay,” he agreed callously.

“But I love her,” she murmured.

“Not sure it matters to him.” 

It definitely didn’t matter to Rhysand when Azriel was in a similar situation only recently.

Azriel regarded Mor for a long time, considering whether he should give her advice. 

Azriel held grudges. It wasn’t his finest trait, but he couldn't help it. He was an Illyrian, and a Fae, and his grudges lasted for thousands of years. Could and did he forgive Mor for all the years of incomprehensible rejection? No, not even a little bit. At the same time, he also moved on. There was someone that he was interested in and who reciprocated his feelings and who concerned him much more than Mor ever would again. 

“It might not be the perfect solution,” he said at last, “but use magic. There is a secret keeping spell that you can use, or a Confounding spell,”

“Oh yes, yes…” she was nodding eagerly.

“It’s not ideal, but it’s something. It will tide you over until you figure out what to do. She is young and impulsive–I wouldn’t trust her to keep a flying horse a secret.”

“You are right. Maybe a Confounding Spell, where she’d just forget to talk about it and it won’t be on her mind…”

“We done talking about Gwyn? I want to go inside,” he stomped his feet. “It’s colder than Apollion’s asshole!”

She cocked her brow at him and muttered, “I wasn’t aware that you were so familiar with his asshole.”

-

Elain was in her bed, on top of the covers, curled around her stomach.

Fae periods were atrocious. They were uncomfortable and painful, though not as frequent as when she was human. But her new body still confused her. Why go through so much pain and discomfort only to have to wait years, sometimes decades to get pregnant. It seemed pointless. Why suffer this much, only to wait and wait in vain to have a child?

She couldn’t complain really–her cycle was pretty bad, but not as debilitating as Feyre’s, or even Mor’s. Somehow, she and Nesta avoided being subjected to the horrors that so many other Fae females experienced during their cycles. It wasn’t pleasant by any means, but she wasn’t crying and sweating, or shaking and moaning like her younger sister. However they were Made, she and Nesta were given a little bit of a reprieve from the fate of all other Fae females. 

The pain was manageable, but she was bleeding profusely. It was so abundant, it didn’t allow her the opportunity to leave the house for at least 3-4 days. 

Did she want to go to the Solstice celebration at her sister’s? Frankly, she was glad that she was missing it this year. Because he would be there. And the other he. The one she wanted, and the one who laid claim on her. And she didn’t want to deal with either one of them. She was lonely, but by now, this was something to be expected–she didn't have many friends beside the wraith twins, and she didn’t have a male either. She was almost 27 years old and she definitely thought that her life would’ve been very different right now–she might have had a loving husband in Graysen, and perhaps, even a baby by now. She would’ve been Lady Nolan, wife to a Lord’s son, mistress of the domain, wealthy and respected, and maybe even happy. Instead, now, men ran away from her, knowing that she had the blasted mate bond, which rendered her invisible in their eyes. Even Azriel seemed to have lost interest–why wouldn’t he? He was prohibited from seeing her and to him, she was unavailable anyway. 

She was feeling sour. Unhappy with herself, unsatisfied, unaccomplished. How did Nesta of all people get married before her? Nesta, who never had a relationship in her life, was happily, joyfully mated to a great male, and Elain…well, Elain needed to find it in herself to go downstairs and warm up some soup or something. Nuala promised to bring her leftovers from today’s celebration, but for now, she had vegetable soup to look forward to.

She turned onto her side with a grunt, feeling the blood sloshing between her legs, and wrinkled her nose. Gods. It was so gross. Tucking her nose into the book she was reading, she got lost in the world. She wondered if there was really an academy for the Fae, where they studied and honed their skills and powers? That would be amazing to attend. Not just stumble about in the darkness, not understanding her own capabilities, but actually learn how to harness it and how to do spells and other incredible things. If she had a handsome vampire Professor, she wouldn’t have minded either. He reminded her of Azriel–brutal, brash and solitary. She also liked the other character, the big dragon shifter, who was dripping with raw masculinity. Biting her lip, she turned the page eagerly reading about the angry dragon chasing his love interest across the bubbling hot springs, until they finally finally kissed. Elain’s been waiting for this moment for four books and it was here, at last!

She didn’t know what it was, but she suddenly shifted on the bed, feeling someone’s eyes on her. The townhouse was well-protected, with ironclad wards, fit for Rhysand. No one could get inside. Ever. And yet the feeling of unease spread over her and she lifted her eyes from the pages of the hefty tome. She looked around her bedroom, but there was nothing amiss, except for the unusual clump of darkness in the corner. The shadows typically didn’t gather like that in that spot. And then, to her horror, a figure stepped out of the darkness–a figure of murky gloom–a huge male body, swathed in shadows…

“Aaaahhhhh!!!!!!!” Elain bellowed at the top of her lungs, deafening her own ears with her scream, as she hurled the thick book at the male. 

“Auuuu!” she heard the man’s voice. “By the gods, Elain! What the fuck,” 

Shockingly, it was Azriel who was now standing in her bedroom, the book in one hand, while he was rubbing his forehead with his fingers, where she smacked him with full force. “You could’ve taken my eye out!” he complained.

She scattered back, pulling her robe, her eyes wide with both fear and relief, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

“What are you doing here?” she cried out. “How did you get inside?!?”

He was still grunting and wincing, rubbing his face, “Mor let me in,” he growled.

She began to calm down a bit, but then crossed her arms on her chest and repeated,

“It doesn’t explain what you are doing here? Shouldn’t you be celebrating Solstice with the others?”

“Yeah, come to think of it now, I should be,” he growled. 

“Then why aren’t you?”

His left eye winked a couple of times and she couldn’t help, but giggle. He looked so...defeated. Like she sprung on him and completely took him by surprise.

“I think it’s obvious that I came here to check on you,” he said dryly.

“Oh,” she sat back on her heels and looked guiltily at him. 

His shadows were gone, and he wasn’t wearing a jacket, which told her that he probably winnowed straight from the party.

He walked to the white stone fireplace and poked the burning logs with a poker, adding another log into the fire. 

This was enough excitement for Elain, and she was now feeling exhausted, so she slipped back onto the bed, wincing from pain and discomfort. He caught her expression and turned to her, asking, “how are you feeling?”

“Like crap,” she admitted and he chuckled. 

She wore a comfortable pair of cotton leggings and a hoodie. Her feet were bare and he looked at them, taking in her painted toes and a thin gold anklet, which surprised him for some reason. He looked at her for a while, in complete silence, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the room. She watched him too, silent and serious, and then extended her hand to him, and held it there, waiting. He took two steps to the bed and grasped her small hand in his, while sitting down on the edge of the bed. She smelled heady and the scent of blood, arousal, her womb, her skin, her natural scent of jasmine and honey almost made his eyes roll back in his head. It was the most delicious aroma he’d ever scented. He brought her hand to his lips, kissing her wrist, feeling her pulse beneath his lips, before opening her hand and kissing inside it. Her breathing became uneven and he watched a lovely pink blush spread over her cheeks and her exposed neck. He loved kissing her hands, small and calloused, and covered in a thin net of various scars. She explained that most were from gardening, some were from burns, knife cuts, splinters, scalding water, from doing laundry in the winter and chopping wood, from weeding, and mending clothes. Gentle, pretty, but working hands. 

“Thank you for coming to check on me,” she murmured, reaching up and tucking a strand of his thick, black hair away from his eyes. “You should get a haircut,” she then decided.

He nodded, “I should.”

His rough, scarred knuckles brushed against her cheek and he admitted, “I wouldn’t have wanted to spend Solstice with anyone but you.”

He looked at her bed, and then smiled, “now, who is this?”

She glanced over her shoulder and then took a stuffed pig that rested by her pillow and handed it to him. Azriel chuckled, stroking the soft toy.

“It’s Darius,” she explained.

“Darius the pig?”

“Yes. I used to have a stuffed pig when I was young and then it…” she stopped talking and swallowed heavily. 

He rubbed the pig’s fluffy head with his thumb and pressed, “What happened to him?”

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears and she murmured, “When the creditors came…they ransacked our house, taking everything and anything that was of any value. They even took our hair ribbons and pins. And I was holding him and crying, because I barely understood what was going on and then one of the men snatched him from my hands. He tore his head off…and then stomped on it, so it wouldn't be possible to reattach it later.”

Two fat tears rolled down her cheeks and Azriel just…moved. He couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to, and he didn’t want to. He wanted to love and comfort her. He wanted to protect her and cherish her. So when he pressed his lips to her face, gently kissing off the tears, it was not lustful or domineering, but a promise. A promise that he would always comfort her and hold dear what was important to her.

“I found this one here, because he reminded me of my Darius.”

“I’ll always take care of Darius,” he vowed, kissing her soft, beautiful face. “Of you. Of everything that is yours and ours.”

Her arm fell across his shoulders and she looked at him, her eyes wet, her lips parted, the pig squished between their bodies.

“You are just,” she whispered breathlessly, “you are…extraordinary.”

“No,” he shook his head, as his nose slid down her cheekbone, “just a male, who’d worship and adore you if you allowed me to.”

She cupped his face between her hands and pressed her lips to his forehead.

“You may…you know. You will always have my permission.”

He kissed her hand again and then pulled away. Truthfully, he didn't trust himself. Even now. Even knowing that she was bleeding and aching, tired and weak, but also ripe and ready for him, he didn’t trust himself and certainly didn’t want to take advantage of her. Because he knew that he could. And she’d be willing. And it’s not like he cared about blood either…But he knew that this wasn’t the time and she wasn’t ready. Besides, as much as he desired her, he also wanted to court her and taking advantage of her willingness and proximity didn’t seem fair. So, he pulled away, even though he was gritting his teeth. 

“May I take the pain away?” he offered.

Elain leaned on her elbows and looked at him with a perplexed expression on her face. Her hair was a mess, slipping from the knot on top of her head and it endeared him even further.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t heal, but I am able to take away pain,” he explained.

“How?” she was shocked, for this was an ability that only some of the more powerful High Fae possessed. Rhysand, she’d seen Helion assist his soldiers on the battlefield, and perhaps Morrigan was also capable. Elain wasn’t even sure that Feyre could, or Lucien. Feyre was powerful in her own right, but she couldn’t take pain away. 

He shrugged and didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t know.

But…there was always something odd about Azriel. His power was vast. It was like a churning ocean of dark, mysterious raw energy that spoke to her own. It responded to her, drawing her own like a magnet, pulling it to her skin, so it vibrated and sought to escape so it could dance and play with Azriel’s power. They’d never discussed it, but the most acute sharing of power that they experienced was during the final battle of the war. She could sense it: his power of Death, deeper than the swirling eddies of the Cauldron, and her power, bright and calm, benevolent and immense–the power of Life. 

“You can do that?” she murmured, looking at him in awe.

He smiled softly at her and said,

“You know me better than anyone. You always have.”

She supposed that she did. The mysterious shadowsinger was never much of a mystery to her. He allowed her in.

Azriel lifted her hoodie a bit over her stomach. It allowed him the view of a sliver of her flat belly. She lay back, a little tense, and he whispered,

“Think of me as a healer.”

She raised her brow at him, giving him a look. He smirked and then placed his large palm on her stomach. She concentrated, and then her eyes lit up and she grinned, after he pressed and held his hand to her skin.

“It’s working!”

“I would hope so,” he nodded, holding his hand to her belly longer than was necessary. His index finger moved lightly near her belly button, writing something that only he understood. Mine.

“It feels so good,” she almost moaned and Azriel sighed. He wished that she would whisper the same words, only under different circumstances. When it was from the pleasure that he gave her, when her beautiful body opened up to him, and welcomed him inside. Gods, she would love it. He would make it incredible for her, her body bowed beneath his, writhing, begging him for more, needing him, yielding to him, falling for him, submitting to him. 

He smiled softly, mostly to himself. He was going to have a fun time filling his Elli’s belly with his babies. This little tidbit might not have been something that he shared with anyone, but Elli was his. And the desire to create a family with her, make them children, ran almost rabid in his blood. He was a patient male, and he was willing to wait. But the fact that she was going to become his wife, his lady and the mother of his children was all but a guarantee. He was even more careful on his missions now–not because of any sort of fear, but because he wanted to ensure that Elain got what she wanted–and that was him. He needed to be hers just as much as she was going to be his. 

Elain’s slender finger wrapped around his wrist and she whispered, ‘thank you’.

“You are welcome, beautiful,” he whispered and then dropped the hem of her hoodie down. “Now, have you eaten?”

Unenthusiastically, she muttered, “I have soup.”

“That is thrilling. Soup.” He tsked sarcastically, but then added, “it didn’t answer my question though. Have you eaten?”

“Nuala made me porridge in the morning.”

“Alright then,” he got up and then fluffed her pillows, announcing, “I shall tend to you and make us a fine Solstice meal indeed.”

“What are you going to do?” she asked. “I don’t need to eat…I am not hungry…”

He hummed and said, “Keep reading your thick smutty book that you’ve used as a weapon,”

“I am sorry!”

“Good aim, by the way.”

She laughed softly. 

“Did I hurt you?”

“Only my pride.”

“You know,” he jerked his head towards the book, “I’ve read it,”

“You have?” she exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah, where are you at?”

“The dragon shifter and the phoenix are in the hot springs,”

Azriel’s long whistle interrupted her. 

“They are about to do it.”

“Do what?”

“It. Elli. It.”

He winked and then disappeared, but not before smirking at her blush.

-

In the kitchen, Azriel took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and headed for the basket of potatoes.

In Illyria, produce was often scarce, but potatoes were always available, and dozens, if not hundreds of recipes, included or were dedicated to the humble spud. Females had all sorts of secret recipes for their cycle times, and while Azriel never bothered to find out much about them, he could cook up amazing mashed potatoes, roast them with garlic and rosemary, fry them, smash them with cheese and butter. 

He filled a large pot with water, grabbed the basket and sat down. Considering his options for a moment, he decided on using Truth Teller to peel them. His dagger wasn’t only for killing and maiming–he used it casually as well, but only for himself. Shrugging, he figured that Elain might actually benefit from a mash made with a Made utensil. 

Once peeled and cleaned, he dumped the potatoes into the pot, put it on the fire, and began setting the table–he pulled out the nice china from the cabinet, crystal glasses, and the real silver silverware. Then he lit candles in a large beautiful candelabra and grabbed one of Elain’s flower-filled vases, and placed it on the table as well. 

When Elli was going to be his and they’d be living here together, he was going to make some design changes. The place was a bit stuffy for his taste, and could benefit from fewer walls. He liked wide open spaces, air, lots of light, windows, unfussy furniture. 

“Az!” he heard her yell from upstairs. 

Smiling, he yelled back, “What’s going on, beautiful?”

“I am bored!” she complained.

“I’ll come and get you in a few minutes, gorgeous. I am just finishing up here.”

“Whatchya doing?”

“Preparing Solstice dinner, because we are not savages and we’ll have a proper celebration.”

Azriel found some cold ham in the ice box, pate, smoked chicken, a few varieties of cheese, and then headed to the cellar for the wine. 

-

Elain was feeling hot and heavy. Not because of her menstrual pains–not at all, because Azriel successfully took all of that away–and not even because of her blood, but because of the highly erotic chapter that she just read. And quickly re-read. She couldn’t believe that Azriel read the same thing! It made her tingle in places where she shouldn’t be tingling right now, and brought a wave of heat to her cheeks, and between her legs. Her breasts were aching and her nipples grew hard. It didn’t help that the object of her affection was downstairs, preparing dinner. Gorgeous and red-bloodied Illyrian warrior whose touch drove her wild with lust and desire. And he read this very book–its erotically charged chapters, with the handsome dragon shifter doing things to his phoenix lady that Elain could only dream of. She was so engrossed in the book that she didn’t even notice Azriel, who stood in the doorway, his tattooed forearms crossed on his chest, an amused smirk on his lips.

She blinked at him, pulled back into reality. 

“So?” he asked, “did they do it?”

Elain snapped the book closed and exclaimed, “I can’t talk to you about that!”

He laughed and teased, “but why not? I’d like to know what your thoughts are,”

“Well, you can’t!” she argued primly.

“Well…” he sighed. “Maybe later. When you are mine.”

She looked up at him from the bed and he enjoyed watching her squirm under his penetrating gaze, watching her little bare toes scrunching, as she pressed her thighs together. 

“Azriel,” she breathed, almost frightened by the intensity of his gaze.

“It’s not negotiable, Elli,” he told her firmly. 

“But,”

“It’s all superfluous, you know. All the barriers, real or perceived. You’ve made me the happiest I’ve ever been, and I won’t let go of the feeling. You’ll be mine.”

Then he tossed her some kind of white lump and said, “for now, go change–I’ve made some adjustments to your pads.”

Elain grabbed the cloth that he gave her and got up from her bed, scurrying to the bathing room. She was still not used to the ease with which Fae males approached menstruation, seemingly unconcerned about it at all, and willing to assist in any manner, treating these messy, violent female cycles as part of their lives just as much as they were part of the females’. Still, at least he didn’t offer to go inside the bathing room with her. 

What she was holding in her hand was her usual cloth, but it was folded and stuffed with cotton balls, as well as a strip of bandage inside, which made the whole thing water resistant. She glanced at it, awed. It was genius!

She washed and changed and instead of stuffing her underwear with six cloths, she only needed the one pad. It was actually perfect–comfortable, provided ample coverage, and Elain was thinking how to replicate the design for further usage. When she opened the door into the bedroom, she found Azriel sprawled on her bed, long muscular legs crossed at the ankles, reading her book. 

“This is quite the scene!” he decided, looking at her. “Ready to go?”

“Thank you,” she said softly, her cheeks rosy. She had rebraided her hair, put some blush and lip tint on, and changed into a different, prettier shirt. “For the pad…it’s very cleverly made,”

He sat up and said, “glad you liked it. I’ve made you a set. It’s downstairs.”

He got up, took two strides towards her and then swiftly picked her up off the floor.

She absolutely didn’t mind it, though she attempted to protest rather feebly and he basically ignored her with a chuckle.

“No, take the bag!” she pointed to a bag by the door and he grabbed that as well, groaning,

“What the hel is in it, beautiful?”

Azriel carried Elain downstairs and into the dining room, and she gasped, as she took in the beautifully set table, resplendent with lit candles and flowers. The fireplace was lit now, and it made all her Solstice decorations glow and sparkle to her great delight. Azriel gingerly placed her down in the chair and filled her glass with wine, knowing that she liked white. He filled his own, and then stood with his glass raised, saying,

To the blessed darkness from which we are born, and to which we return.

“Happy Solstice, Az,” she smiled at him and he lowered his head and pressed his lips to the top of her head.

“Happy Solstice, Elli.”

“Thank you for spending it with me.”

“Of course, beautiful. I’d rather be here, with you, than anywhere else. Now, let’s eat.”

Elain felt like a queen, being cared for and served hand and foot by a mighty Illyrian warrior no less. It was surreal, but it felt nice, and what’s more, it was obvious that Azriel wanted to do this with her, and for her. 

He brought platters to the table and then a big bowl of some of the creamiest looking mashed potatoes she’d ever seen. Just the sight of them made her salivate.

“You made these?” she gushed, once he sat down at the table.

“Potatoes for my Elain,” he grinned and placed a heaping serving on her plate.

Elain attacked them ravenously, and Azriel had a satisfied look on his face watching her eat.

“Remember our first Solstice?” she asked him, as she helped herself to more mash. It was truly amazing. Not only delicious, thick and rich, creamy and satisfying, but there was something special to them as well, which she couldn’t quite figure out. It’s like every spoonful gave her strength, made her feel better, eased the heaviness of her cycle. 

“How could I forget?” he leaned back in his chair, twirling the glass stem between his fingers. “It was the first time you served me food.”

She swallowed another forkful of potatoes and argued, “it so wasn’t’.

The glass paused mid-air and he looked at her surprised.

“Wasn’t it?”

“Nope,” she popped her lips. 

“So when was it then?”

“The potatoes–which I did serve you directly–were just the first time I fed you in public. So everyone could see,” she explained patiently. “But you’ve been eating my food for a long time. All the blackberry tarts and lemon cakes–I make those for you. They are your favourites.”

“You made them for me?” he repeated, his voice quiet.

“Sure did. So, if you believe in all that mating nonsense, then we’ve been mated a long time ago.”

He raised his brow and asked, “Mating nonsense?”

Elain shrugged and sipped her wine. She was feeling pretty good actually. Normal. Like she felt when she had her period when she was human.

“I mean, you can’t possibly believe that a big pot is somehow able to find your perfect counterpart?” she challenged him. “Someone who fits you perfectly, and will love you forever?”

Azriel was so taken aback by her argument, he didn’t know what to say. His belief in the existence and the power of the mate bonds was so ingrained in him, and so unquestionable, he always took it as fact. But…what if…

“Look at Rhys and Feyre,” he threw back at her. “Or Nesta and Cassian,”

“Yeah, bad example,”

“Why is that?”

“Nesta fell in love with Cassian at first glance,” Elain said simply. “A lightning strike. He was everything she ever wanted, ever dreamed of, ever needed–he was perfection in her eyes. It was cute,” she smiled, remembering, “watching her back then. How besotted she was, how she wanted to talk about him all the time, how she’d look up at the skies to see if he might be visiting. All I am saying is that she fell in love with Cassian long before she knew anything about any mate bonds. Even the fact that we were different species didn’t stop her.”

“They do exist though,” he insisted.

She cocked her head and waved her fork around, looking like she was humouring him and his silly beliefs.

“Sure, I guess explain then why I am eating your delicious mashed potatoes on Solstice with you and not with my mate? Why you came here to care for me and cook and why you wanted to spend Solstice with me, and not him?”

To that, Azriel had no answer.

“I don’t believe in mate bonds,” Elain admitted truthfully. “But if it makes it easier for you, then I will feed you all the food you want.”

Lightning struck me too, Azriel wanted to tell her. I’ve loved you from the first moment I saw you as well.

“What did you add to them?” she wondered, changing the topic and pointing to her plate.

“A little magic,” was all he said.

So she could feel the presence of Truth Teller’s magic. It was good to know.

“I want to give you your presents!” she almost bounced in her chair, rejuvenated by the potatoes and Azriel’s healing magic. 

He smiled, “what about dessert?”

“We’ll eat it later. I want to give you your presents.”

“Fine, I want my presents too.”

Impatiently, Elain reached into the bag that she insisted Azriel bring with them.

He wondered what it would be this year. It was always something odd and hilarious.

“The bag is for you,” she said, and sat back, watching him, while he rummaged inside.

Firstly, he took out one book, and then, another.

How to Use Your Words and 10,000 New Words for Your Vocabulary

“Excuse me?” he glared at her, though a smirk threatened to break out on his lips.

She was laughing silently.

“You like?”

“Hmmm…I know there is a message somewhere in there,” he told her, “not sure what it is though.”

“There is one more,” she nodded to the bag.

He took out something soft and then unfolded it.

It was a scarf. It wasn’t a beautiful scarf. It was black, knitted somewhat inexpertly, with a cobalt blue thread running through it.

Azriel’s heart jerked in his chest.

“Did you…” he glanced at her, “did you knit this?”

She nodded, suddenly feeling shy.

“I am not good at knitting,” she confessed quickly. “I know it’s very ugly,”

“It’s not ugly!” he cut her off immediately, feeling the texture of the scarf in his hands, loving it already. “It’s perfect.”

She licked her lips and finally said,

“I think it’s Made.”

“What?”

“I wanted to Make it, so it’s magical,” she wrung her fingers, “it’s supposed to keep you warm at all times. I wanted you to be comfortable when you are out there, on your missions.”

“Elli,”

“Try it tomorrow, when you go to your snowball fight. When the other two are freezing, you should be warm,”

“You are giving me an unfair advantage?” he laughed.

“Umm yes! All is fair in love and war,” she winked. “But then you are expected to win, you know.”

“With this thing warming me up?” he puffed his cheeks, “I will destroy them. They won’t know what came at them.”

She clapped with a nasty little giggle and Azriel couldn’t stop laughing. 

Then he got up and went to retrieve something from his jacket. He  handed her a flat box and said,

“I know you don't believe in mates, but it’s the prerogative of a mate or a husband to give his woman jewellery for Solstice.”

When she opened the box, she found an opulent hair pin inside. It was stunning–large, so it could actually hold the mop of her thick hair, but also…

“I wanted something that spoke to you and of you,” he began explaining softly. “So I made it look like a flowering branch.”

The delicate branch was gold, and leaves were made of various gemstones–mother of pearl, diamonds, pale sapphires, and tiny specks of stones that she did not recognise.

“Azriel,” he gasped. “I can’t…it’s too much…”

Wordlessly, he picked up the pin from the box and then gently, but firmly thrust it in her hair.

“Beautiful,” he marvelled.

A rush of…power suddenly engulfed Elain. It was different from her own, but also familiar–she recognised it immediately. It was Azriel’s.

Her fingers flew to the pin and she whispered,

“What is it?”

“Tiny bits of my siphon,” he said softly. “For luck, and for you to always have someone of mine. And protection. And when you need a little more power, I hope they give it to you.”

“Az…” she looked up at him, her eyes filled with happiness and tears.

He cupped her cheek and his thumb stroked her face, before drawing slowly over her lips.

“I am tired of hiding, Elli,” he said gravely. “You and I–we are written in the stars. I know it’s more than you expected, but I want the world to know that you are mine. I am your man. No one else. You wear my gifts, my jewels. And you will be claimed as mine. The pin took a year to create, for every stone I found myself, in different parts of the world. When you are mine, I will explain the meaning behind all of them.”

His thumb lightly wrote Mine on her lips.

“I might be Death, but you will forever be my gentle fawn.”

[sc11vb]

so … I don’t think I’m going to be posting any more KINKTOBER things

BUT i have a really good idea for an elriel fic, it’s gonna be long and good and perhaps an AU - would that interest anyone?

sorry to people who wanted to see the KINKTOBER stuff. next year will be better, i promise. I’m just way too busy to commit to a fic in a single month

[duskandcobalt]

Strawberry Kisses

While searching the River House for her sisters, Nesta accidentally stumbles upon Elain sharing an intimate moment in the garden with a certain Spymaster.

Please note, that while this is technically a bonus chapter to my series, Echoes in the Hallway, it can be read as a stand alone one-shot xx

No warnings, pure fluff. 1.4k words.

ENJOY XX

Read on AO3

The skirts of Nesta’s pale blue gown, one of many gifted to her from Rhysand, fluttered around her ankles as she traipsed through the bright hallways of the River House, poking her head in and out of various rooms in search of her sisters and nephew. They hadn’t been in either of the libraries, the nursery was empty. Even the kitchen, usually the epicenter of bustling activity, had been suspiciously quiet when she’d breezed past it earlier before making her way upstairs. 

Cassian was away on a business trip with Rhysand for the past few days and Nesta had been left to her own devices for just a little too long.  She’d done fine on her own for the first day and a half but she’d slowly been losing her mind without her mate’s company ever since, even if she loathed to admit it. It’s why she’d practically begged Azriel to drop her off in town this morning, hoping that the promise of bookstores, patisseries, and maybe even a leisurely stroll along the glittering Sidra would be enough to ease her gloomy mood. 

It worked for a couple hours but even then she had still felt the need to seek the company of her sisters. Something that had once been rare, but had slowly become a recurring urge ever since she’d found some semblance of inner peace.

Nesta huffed, cursing under her breath as she bounded down the stairs and back into the kitchen to take another peek around. She spotted a covered dish sitting to the left of the kitchen window. She lifted the plate off the top to find a tempting lemon tart, two small slices already missing. Abandoning the search for her siblings, Nesta took a fork from the cupboard and plated herself a slice, humming happily at the delicious tang of the lemon curd that she guessed Elain had made either this morning or the night before. She was halfway through her third bite when a bit of movement outside of the kitchen window caught her eye.

Nesta had always thought that Elain looked like Spring, like the very essence of life, itself - but never more so than when she was in her garden, surrounded by various plants and flowers. She wore a plain linen dress, the butter yellow fabric pooled around her, reflecting the sunshine in a way that set her face and bare arms aglow. Her long hair was unbound, the length of it falling in soft waves down her back. Elain had tied a sage coloured scarf around the crown of her head to keep the golden strands from getting into her eyes as she knelt in front of a flourishing patch of berries, one that she’d been lovingly tending to ever since the weather had started to warm a couple months ago. 

Nesta was just about to turn to make her way outside to say hello to her sister as well as enquire about the whereabouts of Feyre and Nyx but she stopped, eyebrows furrowing, when she realised that Elain wasn’t out in the garden by herself. 

Azriel came into view, his tall frame clad in the same black leathers he’d been wearing this morning when he’d dropped off Nesta in town. He’d told her he was headed Under the Mountain for the day yet here he was - more relaxed than she’d ever seen him - those enormous wings of his were flared out wide, the sunlight beautifully filtering through the delicate membrane as he approached Elain with a dozing Nyx cradled carefully against his chest.

Nesta watched, lips parted in disbelief, as he knelt down next to her sister. The Shadowsinger, usually so reserved and sullen, had a soft smile on his lips. His shadows were nowhere to be seen and there was a certain look in his eyes as he spoke to Elain that Nesta recognised but couldn’t quite comprehend.

She couldn’t hear the words they exchanged due to the wards Rhys had placed on every inch of this house but the manner in which Azriel conversed so freely and the carefree way Elain laughed in response to whatever he had said, was enough to pique her interest. 

She continued to stand frozen in place, afraid the slightest movement would alert them to her presence, as Elain picked out a strawberry from the wicker basket she’d been collecting them in. She quickly wiped the berry off on her skirt, ensuring any lingering dirt fell away before she lifted the fruit to her lips. Nesta’s attention shifted to Azriel’s face as Elain bit into the bright red strawberry. The expression she found there should’ve been enough to make her look away but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. 

Instead, her eyes stayed glued to the scene in front of her. Her gaze followed Elain’s hand as she reached out and extended that same strawberry to Azriel. She watched as he wrapped his lips around the fruit, directly over where Elain’s own lips had just been. His hazel eyes remained on Elain’s face through it all. Elain raised up on her knees when Azriel pulled back, watching the movement of his throat as he swallowed. She inched closer to him, one small hand landing on his shoulder for balance while the other came to rest on his chest. 

Nesta’s breath caught in her chest when Elain, with no hesitation whatsoever, gently pressed her lips to Azriel’s. 

The kiss they shared was chaste, as if they were being mindful of the babe between their bodies. Still, Nesta found herself blushing at the intimacy of it. The way their lips brushed together in a series of pretty, innocent kisses. The sweet way Elain held his face, her thumb stroking along his strong jaw. The firm grasp of Azriel’s free hand low on the swell of her hip, the linen of her dress scrunched up under his long fingers.

There was an ease, a natural familiarity between them that made it clear that this wasn’t anything new. It was immediately evident to Nesta, just from this singular moment, that this kiss wasn’t the first that they’d exchanged. It wasn’t even one of the first few. She’d go as far as to say that they’d done far more than simply kiss, if the comfort with which they touched each other was anything to go by. 

She’d picked up on some form of tension between them once. Last Solstice. She and Elain had passed by Azriel and they’d exchanged a certain look that made Nesta think that perhaps there was something between them. She’d let it go, had convinced herself that she’d imagined it because the two of them had seemingly stopped spending any sort of time together after that night. 

But now, seeing them here - together - it was clear that Nesta hadn’t imagined the yearning and desire in those shared glances. She felt a little thrill of self satisfaction zip up the length of her spine at the knowledge that she’d been right all along. 

She continued to shamelessly watch until Elain finally pulled away from him, a coy smile on her lips and a pretty blush on her cheeks that matched the Shadowsinger’s own pleased expression. Elain bent down to peer at Nyx - still asleep against Azriel’s chest, completely oblivious to the secret relationship that his Aunt and Uncle were cultivating that only he had witnessed. 

Until now.  

Nesta finally turned away from the window, unable to keep the smile from her face as she quickly and quietly made her way out of the house, miraculously undetected by the two lovers. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about it - about how much sense it made. How much sense they made. Azriel, who she was well aware believed he wasn’t deserving of love, and Elain, who loved so easily that it was like second nature to her. They were two sides of the same coin - sun and moon, day and night - perfectly balanced, the perfect complement to each other. 

Nesta knew why they’d kept this quiet, why those secret looks had transpired into this secret relationship. Elain’s situation would certainly complicate things even if Nesta firmly believed her sister shouldn’t have to comply with some predetermined destiny that she seemingly wanted no part of. 

Regardless, Nesta would keep this to herself until they chose to come forward, if they ever chose to come forward. She wouldn’t mention it to anyone. Not to Feyre. Not to Azriel or Elain. Not even to Cassian. Much like what she’d seen on Solstice, she knew that this was their secret to tell. Never hers.

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Thank you for reading! If you're interested, you can find the rest of my writing in my masterlist xx

[slytherhys]

Too Sweet (for me) - Part II

A/N: I'm so rusty at writing smut but I really hope this isn't terrible because I've been fighting with this chapter and I couldn't keep putting it off.

TW: Explicit language; Explicit Sexual Content

Part I

Word Count: 2.2k words | You can also find this story on AO3!

Following Elain inside without pulling her into his arms was a test of self-control. His eyes never left her, not even when she looked over her shoulder to caught him staring – with a too-pleased smile on her face – before turning around again.

Seeing the Town House so empty never stopped being odd, but with the scent of jasmine surrounding him and the sight of a barely dressed Elain leading him to the kitchen, being here had never felt so right. The rooms were dark, the gauzy curtains covering the windows blowing with the spring’s breeze that flowed through the cracks of the windows. Azriel wondered if she’d been waiting for him. If she had turned off the lights in an attempt to keep her well-meaning sisters away. If she had dressed in his favourite nightgown to tease him, taunt him when he came to her begging – and he really wouldn’t mind begging. He nearly laughed at himself for ever thinking he could ever touch someone else. Mother knew he wasn’t even able to look at someone other than Elain Archeron – had lost interest in doing so a very long time.

And she was every bit at fault, Azriel thought with a smile as Elain turned to face him, challenge clear in those pretty brown eyes as she stared up at him. With her knowing smiles and her blue nightgowns, she had accepted him with a fierceness that still scared him, and he hated himself for letting so much come between the two of them. For letting anyone stop him from having her sleeping by his side every fucking night – preferably very naked.  

Elain’s chest rose and fell swiftly, her cheeks darkening under his stare as if knowing exactly what was going through his mind. No matter how hard she was trying to hide it, she was nervous – and he was an asshole because he fucking loved that he had that effect on her. Mainly because he wasn’t immune to her presence either. His brain felt muddled, his entire focus beginning and ending on the woman standing in front of him.

“Hi, baby.” He rasped, slowly walking towards her. Elain stood her ground, crossing her arms across her chest and raising her chin in defiance. His fingers tangled in her hair, and there was nothing but pure need coursing through his bloodstream as he closed the space between them and pressed his lips against hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise. Her arms fell and she melted into his touch. Fuck, but he had missed her – the way her entire body sought to touch his, her sighs whenever his tongue pressed against hers.

Nothing about the way she kissed him back was sweet – her lips were ravenous, her hands grasping his hair as her tongue sought his in a desperate battle of power. He let her take whatever she wanted. There was nothing he could ever have over her that would match the raw need he felt for her.

Elain pushed to the tips of her toes, pressing her body against his as he walked her to the kitchen counter, making her yelp as he roughly grabbed her and set her on the counter. He could barely breathe as she pressed her soaked center against his hard cock, body melding to his as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He moaned when she did it again, hips undulating as she grinded against him at a maddening pace. Azriel pulled her hair back, gently tilting her head to the side as he peppered her jaw with slow kisses.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” Elain breathed, lips red and chafed from rubbing against his stubble. He tried to focus on her, trying not to show how fucking delighted he was at the thought of Elain waiting for him in her skimpy underwear.

“I didn’t think I’d come either,” he mumbled against her skin, tasting her jasmine scent on his tongue. How could he ever think he could forget her? “But I can’t stay away from you.” He confessed, lost in the feel of her.

“Why do you taste like whiskey?” She asked softly, licking her lips, and furrowing her brows.

“I couldn’t find anything sweeter.” He rasped, and tried to kiss her again, but Elain pulled back.  

“Were you looking?” She asked, half-teasing, half-serious. And did you find it? Was what she really wanted to ask. Azriel couldn’t blame her.

“I was trying to stop thinking about you.” He leaned over her, arms caging her in where she sat. “I was trying,” he mumbled, mouth dangerously close to her parted lips. “to stop wanting you, even if it meant numbing myself until I stopped feeling my own body.”

Elain smiled softly, leaning back as she stared at him curiously. “And did it work?”

He cradled her jaw with a scarred hand, forcing her to look into his eyes as he pressed his cock against her center, watching as she bit her lip at the sensation. “What do you think?” He mumbled before kissing her, but Elain pulled away before he could deepen it.

She stared at him, smile fading. “I can’t keep doing this, Azriel.” Her eyes flickered between his, trying to gauge his reaction to her words. He didn’t dare move as she spoke, too uncertain of where this conversation was leading. “I can’t keep having you tell me you won’t have me but then fuck me like you want nothing else.”

Azriel stilled, taking in the woman in front of him. Fuck, but he was in over his head, wasn’t he? This woman who people were so quick to underestimate because she liked flowers and knew the name of every vendor working at the Palace of Threads and Jewels. But this was the same woman who didn’t mind ripping her own skin to shreds when she was gardening, the woman who would stab someone in the throat if it meant saving her family.

By the Cauldron, he’d be a fucking fool not to fight for her.

He let himself bask in that resolve, determination overtaking any lingering doubts he might have. Nothing else mattered. Not Rhysand, certainly not Lucien. It was only her and the decision she made every night she fell asleep next to him, sated and content. Every night she chose him. All he could do was choose her back.

So Azriel leaned down, kissing her languorously. She melted against him, opening up for him until she was writhing and moaning under his soft caresses. “I will have you.” He promised. “I will have all of you.” And before she could consider those words – consider everything they entailed – Azriel winnowed them to her room, gently setting Elain down on the mattress before she could even blink. She stared at him with mirth in her eyes, watching as he kneeled on the mattress, crawling on top of her. All humour left her face as he started climbing up her body, dropping kisses on every inch of bare skin he could find.

She writhed, breathless. “Az, please.” She pleaded as she watched Azriel pull the straps of her lace nightgown down her arms. Goosebumps covered her skin as he pulled the fabric down her chest, baring her tits to him. Perfect, peaked nipples greeted him. Azriel reached down to lick them, letting his lips linger on her skin as she panted.

“Fuck.” He rasped. She grabbed a fistful of his shirt, taking it off before he was pressing her down and wrapping his lips around her tits again, licking them and biting them until she was moaning and whimpering. Her hands covered his ass, grabbing it and pulling him down until his cock was pressed against her pussy. Azriel groaned, gently biting the soft flesh as stars erupted behind his eyelids.

He trailed kisses down her stomach, removing her panties with care until nothing stood between her and his mouth. Softly pressing his fingers to her pussy he parted her lips, watching as Elain gasped at his rough touch. Parting her lips with ease he licked her once, twice, groaning as her sweet taste exploded in his mouth. He could only focus on licking her, ravenous as she bowed off the bed when he grazed her clit with his teeth. The taste of her on his tongue – sweet and tangy and so fucking ethereal – had him palming himself through his leathers, so close to coming he felt like a teen. He sucked on her clit, thrusting two thick fingers inside her without warning.

Elain cried out, legs locking around his head as her entire body trembled. He groaned, feeling her pulse around him as she whimpered, hands wrapped tight around his hair as she rode the aftershocks of her orgasm. She was the sweetest fucking vision, mindless with pleasure, riding his face with her head thrown back and her tits pushed up. It was a fucking miracle he hadn’t cum in his pants yet.  

“You’re so good to me.” He said, watching as she relaxed against the mattress. Azriel unbuttoned his pants, taking his time pulling them off as she watched closely. She bit her lip when he wrapped a hand around his length, stroking it for some sweet relief.

Elain said nothing - she simply smiled coyly and, faster than he'd ever seen her move, tried to reach for him. Azriel grabbed her hand, stopping her and pressing a soft kiss to her palm instead. He chuckled at her exasperated expression as he gently forced her to lie down again. But tonight was about her – and if he needed to, he’d spend the entire fucking night worshipping her just to make it clear.

"What?" She asked, her big brown eyes staring at him in feigned outrage.

Azriel shook his head, smiling down at her. “I want you so much it’s insane to think I ever wanted anything before.”

She smiled brilliantly. “Are you going to fuck me, or not, Shadowsinger?”

He nipped her lip. “Cheeky.”

Her laughter died in her lips as she felt him positioning his cock at her entrance. She was so fucking wet, so ready for him. He pushed just an inch inside before pulling back, again and again, teasing her until she was scratching his back in an unveiled threat. Pure male satisfaction coursed through him as he watched her delirious with need, whining and begging him to fucking move. With a too fucking smug smile on his face, Azriel thrust inside her, only stopping when his all of him was inside of. Groaning as he felt her pulse around his cock, Azriel hissed when he felt her nails scratch down his ass. Elain was panting, looking up at him, a pleading look in her eyes as she wriggled under him.

“Elain–”He threatened, stilling her hips. Elain smiled innocently, pressing a kiss to his chest. "Brat."

"Move." She moaned, eyes rolling to the back of her head as Azriel grabbed the back of her knee, raising it to his hip so he could fuck her deeper, harder.

He pressed a sloppy kiss to her lips as she met every single one of his thrusts. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Azriel breathed her name like it was air itself, moaning as she clenched around him.

“Yes.” She moaned, wrapping her legs around him, urging him to move faster, harder. “Don’t stop.” She whimpered.

Azriel reached down, rubbing her clit as he quickened his pace. He couldn’t get enough of her, wrapping his lips around her nipples and sucking hard as her nails bit into his ass, guiding him. He could feel how close she was, her legs tightening around his hips as he pumped into her.

“That’s it.” He rasped. “Come with me, baby.” He urged.

Elain bit his shoulder just as he felt her clamp around his length, legs shaking as she came with a cry. His own pace turned sloppy, rushed as he sought his own release, spilling inside her.

With a groan and a considerable amount of energy he didn't know possessed, Azriel managed not to crush her, falling into the sheets on a back with swift twist. He was boneless, exhausted, and his entire body was tangling with how hard he had come. He couldn't bring himself to get up, rather content in feeling nothing but the weight of Elain on top of his chest. Elain looked up, a sated smile on her face as she let out a giddy giggle. Azriel smiled softly, watching as she blushed. That she could still be shy after all this time was an incredible feat on its own.

“Are you happy?” He rasped, his chest nearly bursting with emotion as he eyed her flushed cheeks. Elain hummed contently, softly trailing his eyes, his nose, his cheek with her fingers. Azriel couldn’t help but frown, swallowing down the emotion that threatened to spill into the dark and colour the night surrounding them.

“I won’t give this up.” He said, more to himself than to her. Elain stilled in his arms, head raising carefully, as if only now realising exactly what he was promising. Still, he looked at her – made sure she understood everything he was saying. “I won’t give us up.”

Elain smiled sweetly, hands interlacing with his as she chuckled. “It’s about time you catch up, Shadowsinger.”