#i have the most correct azriel opinions

[gwyns]

“he gives off such pathetic wet cat vibes” he really does though 💀😂 it’s kinda cute but sad at the same time

he's the most pathetic, sad, wet cat man who just wants to be loved, dominated and called a good boy :(

[yearning-for-autumn]

Psycho Coach - Cassian Headcanon

Summary - Cassian trains the kids, but forgets he can't yell at children like he does the Illyrian armies.

Warnings - None

A/N - This is based on my own headcanons for a next generation of the inner circle. It's just a little scenario I had to get out of my head, so, enjoy!

It was Milo who struggled most during basic training. The eldest of Azriel’s twin boys had always been more bookish than physical, a mystery to Azriel who had always naturally excelled in training. 

It was clear to Cassian that Milo tried 10 times harder than the others just to keep up, especially to his eldest daughter Zelda who could hold her own with the Valkyries already.

“Milo! I’ve told you 10 times to straighten that back leg. Run the drill again”

Cassian was used to yelling at the Illyrian warriors he trained every day and he didn’t hold back on his kids.

A hundred different scenarios raced around his mind, of Milo unprepared and injured, or killed in battle.

He watched as Milo ran the drill again, still weak in his back leg. He kicked upwards at Bryony, Cassian’s middle child, who easily blocked him and sent him toppling backwards. 

Cassian ran his hands over his face in frustration.

“I have told you enough times to straighten your leg, I should not have to repeat myself for you to apply my corrections!” He yelled, “What are you going to do when you’re in a real battle, huh? Rely on one of them?” He gestured to one of the kids who were all standing with grim faces. 

Every one of them had been on the receiving end of one of Cassian’s tyrades, but they all knew Milo wasn’t one to be able to sit and take it.

Milo’s face crumpled, and tears spilled down his cheeks before Cassian had even finished chewing him out. 

Cassian was on his knees before the kid as soon as he noticed his shaking shoulders, gathering him against his chest.

He couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t still frustrated, but even he knew when he had gone too far, and Milo was a soft kid. Cassian was horrified at making his nephew cry.

“Shh, shh don’t cry, I’m sorry, I was being psycho coach again, wasn’t I?” He asked, trying to turn Milo’s tears to laughter. Milo sniffed and nodded, laying his head on Cassian’s shoulder like he was trying to kill him with guilt. 

Of course Azriel chose this moment to come and check on everyone’s progress. He looked at Nyx, the eldest, for an explanation. 

“Uncle Cass was being an arsehole to Milo.”

Cassian shot his eldest nephew a disparaging look.

Azriel scooped Milo up out of Cassian’s arms and held him, even though the kid was definitely too old to be carried around anymore, shooting Cassian a disapproving stare. Cassian held his hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t mean to make him cry, I was just trying to correct his form.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, but didn’t look too angry, even he knew that Milo could be a bit…sensitive sometimes. He busied himself instead with kissing Milo’s forehead, pampering him far too much in Cassian’s humble opinion, but then he was the one that threw his own children off the balcony to teach them how to fly. 

I have no idea how to end this little headcanon scenario so…yeah. I just really wanted to write out this scene that I have had in my head for aaages. I know not everyone will care about my own personal next gen headcanons, but I am personally very attached to them.

[nikalaeva]

I like the romantic fantasy genre. But I guess I'm asking too much when I want both romance and plot. In most of these books, the plot and fantasy part are decorations like in a kindergarten, just a background. No matter what popular (or not so popular) book you take, the author only promises an interesting story. Let's take my "favorite" example - ACOTAR. This is not my first romantic fantasy, but disappointment I felt after spending time on these books is greater than the Burj Khalifa. There is no plot in any of the books in this series. Walking, having sex and talking is not a plot. Every action must have consequences, every next scene must be a continuation of the previous one. Take one away, and the whole story will fall apart like a house of cards. Even sex can be part of the plot. I write for myself, just for fun, and in one of my stories, because of sex between FMC and her friend, her dragon (don't laugh, this was before the Fourth Wing and even House of the Dragon) was attacked and almost killed. What would happen if we removed the sex scene? The heroine would either have prevented the attack or come to the rescue faster.

Feyre, Amren and Rhysand stole relic from Tarquin. Blood rubies are cool, but taking them away doesn't change anything. Mor stole Feyre, the High Lord's bride, from his home, and Rhysand made her an emissary of the Night Court. Remember what Cresseida said about that? The people of Prythian give a shit about laws because they don't exist. Feyre destroyed the Spring Court, and Hybern easily invaded the Summer Court - great, that's as it should be. Did Tamlin and Tarquin do anything to punish Feyre? Okay, that's a bad idea during a war, you need strength, and Feyre isn't completely useless. And then? I was hoping for at least a line about the Night Court turns the treasury inside out to pay for the damage. Azriel attacked Eris. Eris is the High Lord's eldest son, practically a prince. Azriel is just a spy. It doesn't matter who he is for Rhysand and the Night Court. If Prythian had human laws, Azriel should have been executed immediately. If Prythian had laws, Azriel must be punished by the Autumn Court (even if they took him into slavery) and be banished from the Night Court for, like, 100 years, as an apology from Rhysand, who allowed this.

But SJM is a coward. She's as afraid of the consequences as Rhysand was of telling Feyre the truth about the pregnancy - because only her opinion is correct, and the reader is not allowed to have his own.

[lovemyromance]

Why am I seeing the GAs/ELs claiming Elriels are just acting "hypocritically morally superior" when we say we want what Elain wants?

Then they go on to say "why should what Elain wants even matter?"

Um, idk it's because it's her fucking book? It's not Lucien's book. It's not Azriel's book. It's Elain's book, first and foremost. SJM has always talked about stories spotlighting strong female main characters.

Saying we want what Elain wants is not a bad thing?? If it's her book that's next, then yes. What she wants is the most important thing.

We are not SJM. We don't get to decide "what is best for her". In fact, acting like you ship Elucien because you "want what's best for her" is acting morally superior and condescending.

You are actually just assuming you know what is best for her. Especially when Elain acts like a ghost and loses her boldness around Lucien canonically right now. We don't get to just act like we know the character better than the writer herself. SJM will write what she wants. Elain will desire whomever she wants.

And I will goddamn support whoever Elain wants. Because SJM will write it so whoever Elain wants and ends up with IS THE CORRECT, BEST choice.

When Elain wanted Greyson, I wanted her to be happy and get Greyson. When he rejected her so cruelly, I was angry. I wouldn't have wanted her to end up with Greyson after that but if Elain had continued to want Greyson, I'm sure SJM would have written it so I would've rooted for that as well.

Elain now wants Azriel. That is not something Elriels made up. It is on the page. She is the one initiating every step of their late night encounter in the BC. She is the one who wants Azriel to kiss her. She is the one who gets aroused just when Azriel touches her neck.

If we want Azriel, it's because Elain wants Azriel.

That being said, if I were to open the next ACOTAR book and I see Elain is so hurt by the misunderstanding in the BC that she spends more time with Lucien (somehow...lmao) and starts to grow feelings for him ... I WOULD ALSO SUPPORT THAT!

I have said it time and time again, and so have many, many other Elriels. If Elain had wanted Lucien from the get go, we would've also supported Elucien. Hell, I did support Elucien, until I saw how uncomfortable and resentful Elain was of that bond in ACOWAR.

And honestly, I might've even been of the opinion that "eh SJM might have them makeup and it'll be her usual reluctant mates plot" IF SJM hadn't then brought in Azriel and shown me how Elain acts and behaves differently with someone she actually wants.

It is wildly different. If you cannot see that and acknowledge that, then it's your fault, not SJM's writing.

If I open up the next ACOTAR book, and Elain suddenly wants fucking Tarquin or Helion.... then I would root for Tarquin or Helion. Whether it's Azriel or Lucien or anyone else doesn't matter. What Elain wants is what SJM will write as her endgame. And true, Elain could grow to like someone else.... but right now, she likes Azriel. So right now, I am supporting Azriel.

It's not that fucking hard to understand.

Elain is an Archeron sister. The sisters are the focus of this book, SJM has said that time and time again. Yes there will likely be books beyond JUST the sisters, but not UNTIL the sisters' stories have been told.

AKA it's not gonna be Feyre, Nesta, Gwyn/Vassa/Mor/Amren, then Elain.

Elain's story does matter more than Gwyn's or Emerie's or Vassa's or Mor or Amren. I would say Feyre's matters the most, and Nesta and Elain are equal in terms of importance. That's how the series has been set up.

I don't know why people keep thinking this is Throne of Glass or CC. It's not. The setup and pattern has been made very clear. People are choosing not to see it, and then coming up with every single reason under the sun for trashing the people who read what was written and are rooting for Elriel accordingly.

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Made it to chapter 16 today which means Feyre and I have both had our first impressions of Rhysand's Inner Circle and ohhhhhhh boy

Its hard to pinpoint why exactly, but theres something so discomforting about watching them interact. I think the main thing is that for all their "casual-ness", theres still clearly a rigid hierarchy between them and they all seem to 'know their place' so to speak, its not at all like Lucien and Tamlin's relationship in the first book which genuinely felt like a friendship that was unburdened by their status or positions. Like, theres this one moment where Mor and Amren are like kinda bickering with each other i guess, and Feyre remarks that Mor is probably super powerful if she dares talk back against Amren (in an incredibly minor matter Im pretty sure but I already forgor ngl) and because this is the book where Feyre's perspective starts being Objectively Correct all the time, I guess that's true, I guess the only reason someone would dare voice their opinion on something to this friend group is if they were physically more powerful because otherwise you just level a fucking mountain during an argument

Anyway, Im gonna switch topics for a short moment but I promise this diversion is relavant to the point above. So, sometimes when I go into the anti-tags on here looking for criticisms or complaints of the books, I instead find anti-ship posts that are mainly just about trash-talking some ship, mostly ones relating to that whole Elucien/Elriel/Gwynriel shipwar, which I already have thoughts on but I'll save those for later. In any case, one day I stumbled upon this pretty long anti-elriel post about how the gifts Elain gives Azriel on winter solstice arent actually cute and it describes how she gave him like, herbs that help with headaches "because his friends are always giving him headaches" apparently. And then that post went on a whole rant about how insensitive that was of her and that she doesnt actually understand Azriel's dynamic with his close friends, but honestly, judging from this chapter Elain was absolutely spot on

And I usually wouldn't say this because yknow, its only one chapter and we're probably gonna get the nuances of their relationship later, but this is a book written by Sarah J Maas, her characters and their relationships are rarely particularly deep and, more importantly, her writing is incredibly unsubtle. If Azriel was in any way fond of his friends shenaningans I wouldve noticed it, because Feyre wouldve noticed it like 15 times during that whole dinner. But she didnt.

Its especially bad for Cassian and Azriel because it feels like Cassian thinks they have this great rapport but Azriel just genuinely kinda dislikes him. Not to mention that whole fucking mess with Azriel and Mor and Cassian and Mor having sex so she wouldnt get married off or whatever, good god how is every conversation between them not insanely awkward

Even beyond that, idk man, theyre all just so insufferable. I dont understand how Amren, ancient eldritch being trapped in a fae body that she is, can stand to be around them, I wouldve left them 5 centuries ago if I was her. I guess the explanation is that she finds the government position interesting but its like, youre SECOND to the most boring and annoying man on the planet only kinda ruling over a court that you dont even actually care about from everything Ive heard. Again, if I was in Amren's position I would not be hanging out in an APARTMENT in a boring ass city at the behest of a quartett of stupid bozos, I wouldve weaseled my way into being the personal advisor of Beron or some shit so I could watch the Vanserra Family Drama unfold live

There was one good thing about this discomforting dinner though, and that was how inexplicably gay Cassian was for Rhysand. He was really out there, looking at him with such love, calling him pretty twice in like two minutes being all "I knew I wanted a piece of him the moment I first saw him, the high lord's pretty son" like okay. I know what you are

[separatist-apologist]

The opening ceremony has turned me back into my Olympic sports critic era, only seen every four years when i pretend to know what im talking about. So. Who's the most likely to get super into the olympics (assuming they are not in the Olympics) and what sport (s)

A LIST???? WAR IS OVER. Also I know next to nothing about the Olympics and will never know anything more unless @unhealthyfanobsession writes a new fic (I didn't even know fencing was a sport)

As a reminder: if you disagree with me I don't need to know about it and also I have the only correct opinion in the fandom so I will be taking no feedback thanks

Starting with least likely to most likely (source is my beautiful mind):

Amren: The WHAT?

Eris Vanserra: Could not care even a little- refuses to pretend. Annoyed every time he steps into a bar all televisions are playing gymnastics.

Elain: Doesn't like all the arguing."everyone is a winner!" attitude that has people asking her to leave the room at tense moments. Cannot, for the life of her, see what the big deal is getting worked up over sporting events.

Mor: Willing to listen to who is winning what, and a staple at every Olympic themed party, but has no interest or opinion in anything going on.

Nesta: Low-key judging how invested people are, but also mesmerized by the high dive (i know this in my heart). Claims she's not interested, but always standing behind sofa will the events are on like your dad who swears he hates reality TV. "Who is winning again?" "What are the rules?" Cassian is silently screaming

Feyre: Interested in archery, obvs- totally could have gone pro were it not for that wrist injury all those years ago. Knows EVERYTHING about it, backseat coaching. Not interested in any other sport

Emerie: In it for the memes, specifically. Turns out several very viral, very hilarious ones came from her side blog. She knows just enough to make a timely joke, and likes the racing events because they end quickly

Lucien: The athleticism is just interesting, okay???? He's not even that invested but he's been sitting in the bar for 30 minutes while his drink gets cold watching two dudes fencing, he's never been more enraptured in his life

Rhys: Very invested in a handful of activities, wishes it was Winter Olympics, though- thats where the REAL skill is. Okay grandpa why don't we get you to bed now

Gwyn: Passionate about the whole thing, but is unwilling to fight about it. It's just fun to watch her country dominate in every event. Passes around Olympic memes, is the only one who knows Emerie is behind it- she'd know that sense of humor ANYWHERE

Azriel: Knows SO MUCH about EVERY event HOW?? WHY?? Will drop facts at random, silencing every argument. Why does he know so much about the new kayaking sport? Find out only later he could have gone pro FOR REAL, chose not to. Will fight if his team loses

Cassian: USA!! USA!!! USAAAAAAA LETS GOOOOOO!!!!!!!

[elains]

Is CC3 bad? I’ve heard it’s not very good at all

It all depends on perspective of who is reading, I believe. I would say that if you loved HOSAB and HOEAB, there's a chance you could genuinely like HOFAS too. But my objective opinion is that the book is not great and falls short on many points

Some more spoilers and the TLDR below.

The first half of this book drags. Sure, there are things happening, but my general impression reading is that it was slow-paced, dragging, and rather awkward. We get some gratuitous torture porn to see how sadistic Pollux and the Hawk are, the Frat Boys are going around and want to get Ruhn out. In all fairness, having so many PoVs and where they cut was sometimes a problem to me: something exciting was about to happen, then cut to a section which was comparatively boring and then more pages until I got my resolution.

The Crossover is CRIMINAL. Anon, I'm a lore girl at heart. I was super looking forward to what it would reveal of Prythian's past, of what happened to Fionn, Theia, the Daglan. Nesta and Azriel are easily the highlight of it, their interactions where the breath of fresh air in what was otherwise a slog to get through. The Crossover is one single HUGE loredump and you know what's more? By the end of it you ask "And this needed to be a Crossover why exactly?".

There's nothing there that couldn't be learned from the Midgard or the Prythian. I kinda think SJMs ran into a corner by ending HOSAB as she did. It feels as though the crossover was meant to be bigger, but it fell flat, and she had to course-correct. To be honest, it was a bit of a chore to get through these parts.

Bryce is also a personal problem to me because I cannot just connect with her. I would have liked much better if more of her human side was explored, rather than the fae, as the humans are the most oppressed and have it worst here. I don't know, her desire for change and everything feels shallow. Hollow. As if she would never have gone down this path had Danika not died — and I could accept that, if I thought it wasn't framed for me to think of her as heroic and not a hypocrite. There IS such a thing as too much girlboss.

Ruhn and Lidia are the highlight of this book for me. I love them in HOSAB, I love them in this one despite some things coming right out of left field lol. Still! Definitely the two characters I enjoyed most.

I know Sarah wanted to try to tackle some big social issues but look. Would you get if I say that the girlboss slips into it? The way she handles these topics, the tone of them, doesn't land right for me. Someone shouting words of change and order, but look a little more closely, dig a little, question, and it's just superficial. In your face, with not the appropriate nuance. Bryce's general attitude does not help.

Oh and there's one hell of a cliche in the end that had me ROLLING MY EYES. Unnecessary. The resolution also feels rushed to me and there are things that I just stared blankly at the book "Is this for real?". Once again, I think she raised the stakes waaaaay too high and the resolution doesn't match them, the same issue I had acowar.

All in all, this book was a let down from HOSAB.

[acourtofthought]

Words, Words, and Nothing but the Words

Feyre's, Nesta's and Cassian's own thoughts and beliefs can influence our interpretation of the text or of how the actual interaction / actions between two characters might look. Anything they are seeing is through a lens that's colored by their personality, opinions, etc. and not necessarily to be taken as fact so I was curious what it would all look like if I only included the actual words / thoughts both Azriel and Lucien spoke to or about Elain (in chronological order and to the best of my knowledge, if anything is missing, it was unintentional):

“I can imagine"

“Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.”“It is sometimes,” “If you are caught in a storm, if the current drops away. But we are trained so thoroughly that the fear is gone before we’re out of swaddling.”

“You’re my mate.”

“Get her back,”

“Where is he keeping her?”

“Tell me anyway. List all of them.”

“I survived well enough when I found you.”

“I need to find her.”

“My mate is none of your concern.”

“She insisted. Tamlin was … Things were bad, Feyre. I went in his stead, and I did my duty to the court. I went of my own free will. And we completed the Rite.”. “Please don’t tell Elain,” he said. “When we—when we find her again,” he amended.

“I’m getting my mate back.”

“Two,” he snapped, “I knew if I was correct and called you on it, you’d find a way to make sure I never saw her.”

“She is my mate and in my enemy’s hands—”

“You have the gall to question my priorities regarding Elain—yet what was your motive where I was concerned? Did you plan to spare me from your path of destruction because of any genuine friendship, or simply for fear of what it might do to her?”

“Tell me about her—about Elain,”

“Elain loves this lord’s son.”

“My mate is engaged to a human male.”

“I want to see her. Just once. Just—to know.”. “If she is worth fighting for.”

“And then I’ll ask your mate how he survived it—knowing you were engaged to someone else. Sharing another male’s bed.”

“Come get me when she’s ready.”

“What of—Elain?”

“I would never hurt her.”

“Is … is there anything I can get for you?”

Too thin. She must not be eating at all. How can she even stand? The thoughts flowed through his head, one after another. His heart was a raging, thunderous beat, and he didn’t dare move from his position a mere five feet away. She hadn’t yet turned toward him, but the ravages of her fasting were evident enough. Touch her, smell her, taste her— The instincts were a running river. He fisted his hands at his sides.

He hadn’t expected her to be here.

But there she was. His mate. She was nothing like Jesminda. Jesminda had been all laughter and mischief, too wild and free to be contained by the country life that she’d been born into. She had teased him, taunted him—seduced him so thoroughly that he hadn’t wanted anything but her. She’d seen him not as a High Lord’s seventh son, but as a male. Had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been … thrown at him.

“I’m going to assume that one of those cups belongs to your sister.”

“Do you mind if I help myself to the other?”. He tried to sound casual—comfortable. Even as his heart raced and raced, so swift he thought he might vomit on the very expensive, very old carpet

“There’s a plate of biscuits. Would you like one?”

He had not seen her entire face since that day in Hybern. Then, it had been drawn and terrified, then utterly blank and numb, her hair plastered to her head, her lips blue with cold and shock. Looking at her now … She was pale, yes. The vacancy still glazing her features. But he couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. She was the most beautiful female he’d ever seen. Betrayal, queasy and oily, slid through his veins. He’d said the same to Jesminda once. But even as shame washed through him, the words, the sense chanted, Mine. You are mine, and I am yours. Mate.

Her eyes were the brown of a fawn’s coat. And he could have sworn something sparked in them as she met his gaze.

He knew without demanding clarification that she was aware of what he was to her. “I am Lucien. Seventh son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court.”

For a long moment, Elain’s face did not shift, but those eyes seemed to focus a bit more.

he clenched his teacup to keep from shuddering at the sound of his name on her mouth.

“Yes.”

“Yes.” It was all he could say.

He wished she’d shoved him out the window behind her. “It—it was a mistake.”

He fought against the bristling rage, the irrational urge to find the male who’d claimed her and shred him apart. The words were a rasp as he instead said, “I know. I’m sorry.” She did not love him, want him, need him. Another male’s bride. A mortal man’s wife. Or she would have been.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, so he said nothing, and drained his tea, even as it burned his mouth.

He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.” Her too-thin shoulders seemed to curve inward.

Her thumb brushed the iron ring on her finger. Another male’s ring, another marker that she was claimed—

“She needs fresh air.”

“Take her to the sea. Take her to some garden. But get her out of this house for an hour or two.”

Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?”

“But you heard something else.”

“What did you see,”

“Let me do something. About Elain.

It wouldn’t hurt to have a healer look her over. Externally and internally.”

“I think she went through something terrible,”. “And it wouldn’t hurt to have your best healer do a thorough examination.”

Lucien muttered something about not needing to be monitored

“I’m sorry,” he blurted.

“It—it was a tug. On the bond.”

“I’m sorry—if that unsettled you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“There’s a bond—it’s a real thread,” he said, more to himself than us.

“And I got to Elain’s end of it when she ran off.”

“No—I didn’t have time. I felt her, but …”

“I can help her,” said Azriel

“What other?”

“Should we—does she need …?”

“She doesn’t need anything,”. “We’re the ones who need …” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” “The Cauldron made you a seer.”

“There is another queen?”

“You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.”

“The sixth queen is alive?”

“I’ll go.”.

“I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but …”

“Yes. Let me help in whatever way I can.”

“What about Elain?”

“I’m getting her back.”

“I’m getting her back.”

“Are you hurt?”

“Hold tight,” he ordered her, “and don’t make a sound.”

“We need Helion to get these chains off her.”

“This is Truth-Teller,” he told her softly. “I won’t be using it today—so I want you to.”

“It has never failed me once,” the shadowsinger said. “Some people say it is magic and will always strike true.”

“It will serve you well.”

“Are you hurt?” he asked

“Well, I never want to fight in another battle as long as I live, but … yes, I’m in one piece.”

“I heard—what happened. I’m sorry for your loss. All of you.”

“He was a good man,” he said. “He loved you all very much.”

“I heard you made the killing blow,” he said.

“First—here. To help. Then …” Another glance at Elain. “Who knows?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Are we …” “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“Sit. I’ll take care of it.”

“Wait,”. “Wait until everyone is seated before eating.”

“Happy Solstice,”

“You as well.” “Both of you.”

“No need to trouble yourself. I’m—”

“How is she?”

“Good. But is she still …” "Does she still mourn him?”

“To accept a life shackled to me?”

“She wants nothing to do with me.”

“I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.”

And as for here …” “I can’t stand to be in the same room as her for more than two minutes.

“Happy Solstice.”

“Enchanted gloves,” “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.”

“Thank you.”. “This will be invaluable.”

“What happened to Elain?”

“I know. I helped rescue Elain, after all.”

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

“Not the ones under my command,”. “We won’t make the same mistake twice.”

“I am not always in this city to see my mate.” (sounds a lot like that Nessian line, doesn't it?)

“What happened to the duke?”

“My shadows don’t like the flames so much.”

I'm not including the Bonus Chapter because I wanted to show how what's in the books doesn't match up to the Bonus Chapter as E/riels interpret it.

You can be physically attracted to someone without sharing any sort of depth to your relationship and that's what E/riels near kiss seems like to me.

To some, the bonus chapter is supposed proof of E/riel in love. But where is that evidenced in anything Az says of or about Elain in the books? Over the course of three books, he barely says a thing to her or about her. The very first time he really bothers to ask her a question that someone didn't tell him to say is when it's in regards to her powers.

And being protective does not equal romance or real / healthy love when you consider the relationship of Feyre and Tamlin. The romance is in the little moments of connection, the banter (especially in an SJM book), not the grand scenes displaying heroism. "He saved her! He wanted to die for her! It must be love!" Ummmm...... You actually need to have conversations for love to occur. Not to mention the IC (especially Az) saves everyone, including one another and that does not equal romantic love.

There is no point including the scene where Az and Elain chatted in the sitting room on Solstice (not to mention all we gleaned from that is a discussion about gardening) because we have multiple scenes of Feyre leaving Elain and Lucien alone to talk as well (before he headed off to find Vassa and immediately after the war). We don't know what those conversations were about and speculating is worthless especially because SJM couples don't fall in love off page.

The sum of Azriel's spoken interactions with or about Elain include:

Protecting her, making sure she doesn't have to serve them like his mother served others, and showing interest in what her powers could do for them. And his most major scenes with Elain are ones where he can play the hero or reminisce on being her hero 😬. The most picturesque or poetic E/riel scenes occur when they are from another characters perspective, not between the actual characters themselves, i.e., Feyre wondering why they weren't made Mates, the discussion that Az has never lent out TT, or her idea for a painting. She is planting ideas in the readers head rather than the reader witnessing any real feeling between the characters themselves. It doesn't tell us whether Az only lent out TT this time because he's never had to sit out of battle, it doesn't tell us whether Feyre gave real consideration as to whether Elain and Az have anything in common aside from being "polite". Elain was sitting silently in the garden with Az when Feyre brought up the question about mates and Elain was depressed and withdrawn. She based her questioning of fate off two people who weren't speaking and had barely spoken. Sorry but that's just strange and not how SJM builds romance. Feyre is great but she doesn't always have the best track record when it comes to her sisters.

I feel everything Az does with Elain is merely a reflection of the problems he has in relation to himself. His need to protect those he considers weak, his guilt over what happened to his mother, latching on to someone who shows a little interest in him after Mor's rejection. He never gives Elain credit for anything she's done as an individual. He doesn't talk to her about her sisters, her father, Graysen (the last two the actual sources of her trauma), that she helped saved him and Briar, Cassian and Nesta, how far she's come since she was first made (which even Nesta acknowledges), nothing. I just don't see love from Az and I truly think the Bonus Chapter is simply a result of Az feeling jealous that he wasn't given a bond (with someone) and frustration over everything he struggles with in his life. Mor not loving him, his guilt over the things he's done, the constant anger he always feels, feeling like he's the outsider. To him Elain, or the "idea of Elain", represents the path to filling all the holes he currently has inside of him and that's an extremely unhealthy mentality.

And Lucien's thoughts and spoken words? Without ever truly having the freedom to interact with her as he'd like because of the sisters consistently blocking their interactions as well as her own hesitation over having a bond, his Elain scenes include:

Wanting to know about her, wanting to help her heal, apologizing for what happened in Hybern, acknowledging her feelings for Graysen, supporting her vision by risking his life to see if he can bring back an army, expressing empathy over the loss of her father, giving her credit for her very major part in the war. Most of Lucien's interactions with Elain are about Elain. How she's doing, what she needs, acknowledging her as an individual outside of himself. Lucien isn't focused or driven by what Elain can do for him, his sole concern is helping her feel better whether that involves him or not.

And that all comes from the actual words Lucien speaks, not someone thinking "maybe Lucien thinks this!" or "maybe Lucien, that!". Even knowing that the female who chose him (Jesminda) ended up not being his mate as he'd thought for centuries, he is still fully committed to doing what's right for Elain. He doesn't owe Elain anything, he didn't ask for the bond, he didn't expect or want a bond, yet he's still nearly perfect when it comes to their bond and treating Elain as an individual outside of himself.

And when Feyre does interject her own thoughts, you see flaws in her thinking. "Elain might hate Lucien's gloves because she prefers to get her fingers cut up and dirty". There is no logic in that statement yet E/riels latch on to it, once again taking Feyre's word as gospel in the Elain / Az / Lucien situation.

Feyre herself is the one who told Lucien Elain wears gloves in the garden, there are multiple scenes of Elain wearing gloves in the garden and later, it's confirmed that Elain needs Feyre to pull thorns out of her hands because of torn gloves leading Feyre to think "if Elain had been wearing Lucien's gloves, nothing would have pierced her".

But at the end of the day, a romance between two characters is not going to happen because another character first predicted it or considered it. Rhys may have helped Nessian by sticking them together but they only happened because they were always meant to happen and he understood it's where they both were headed regardless of being too stubborn to get there themselves. They led themselves to that point and Rhys just nudged them along by placing them in close proximity.

The readers themselves are going to see the characters falling in love on page, not through the lens of someone else and it's wild that E/riels think an Elain and Az love story has already happened.

[starsreminisce]

I never understood why Feyre is labeled as E/riel shipper when after acowar she never mentioned them ever again. she even talked about Lucien's glove to Elain and how she should use them to not get her hands hurt in her bonus chapter. or how in acofas Feyre kept encouraging the two to talk that Mor told her to get out of their business and let them deal with it themselves!! I think she stopped engaging the idea after Rhys told her so but I'm not sure, what I'm sure about is she never thought about Elain with Azriel after acowar.

or how they keep saying she will be mad at Rhys for stopping them while Rhys other than proving Az only wanting Elain for sex, he brought up some good political reason that could put their court in danger AND most importantly their baby! do they really think she wouldn't also be mad at Az for putting them in danger bc he was horny?

It's probably because they tend to cling to the one part that validates their belief without giving much thought to the context that surrounds it.

The same reason why they would say Azriel "wouldn't go so far as to call Gwyn a friend" is because that's verbatim from his chapter. This completely ignores the fact that he didn't correct Clotho about his relationship with Gwyn or express how he felt after the necklace was given away.

Feyre asked why they weren't matched, similar to Azriel's inquiry about why the third sister wasn't assigned to him.

However, you should also consider why she didn't want it to be Lucien. She held anger and weariness towards him for what transpired in the Spring Court.

Despite this, she continued to encourage Elain to get to know Lucien. She even went as far as showing her trust in Lucien again after the war and nudged Elain, who then invited him to live with them again.

She specifically pointed out how, throughout the rest of the year, Lucien was willing to turn a blind eye to those he had every reason to hate and be angry with, all to offer them help.

Azriel only said coldly, “If Lucien kills Graysen, then good riddance.” ... Lucien had encountered him, I realized. Somehow, in living with Jurian and Vassa at that manor, he’d run into Elain’s former betrothed. And managed to leave the human lord breathing.

Feyre observes Lucien literally fighting against his instincts.

She mentioned the lack of communication between Elain and Lucien but didn't mention the time Azriel and Elain spent together.

Feyre didn't ask Elain for her opinion on Azriel, remind her to reject the bond, or reinforce her belief that Elain and Azriel were a better match, even after their lengthy conversation during Solstice, especially in front of Rhys.

Feyre, Nesta, Cassian, and Rhys have all noticed and mentioned something about the Elucien dynamic that we, as readers, need to know.

But little about Elain and Azriel other than it's weird.

Even Nesta's observation over Azriel's brooding at Solstice:

Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past, leading Nesta into the room. Mor lounged on a green velvet couch before the fireplace;

Nesta didn't say anything about this exchange but she did have something to say about this:

Elain, the wretch, had taken the seat between Feyre and Varian, about as far from Lucien as she could get.

I also don't think that Nesta knows how Azriel felt about Elain either.

Azriel lingered near the door, quiet enough that when Feyre and Mor began talking about some of her paintings, Nesta went over to him. “Why don’t you sit?” She leaned against the doorway beside the shadowsinger. “My shadows don’t like the flames so much.” A pretty lie. She’d seen Azriel before the fire plenty. But she looked at who sat close to it and knew the answer.

I find it interesting that Nesta talked about exactly where Mor was sitting (in front of the fireplace), and it was Feyre and Mor who were conversing before she went up to Azriel. There was no mention of what Elain was doing at that time or how close to the fire she was sitting.

This once again highlights how E/riels tend to invalidate just how deeply Azriel felt for Mor and blatantly ignore all the obvious signs of his attraction to her, all in favor of their preferred ship.

Mor and Azriel had four books of in-your-face buildup as well, but it seems like SJM has made it now mean nothing.

Shadows darkened his eyes, full of enough pain that she couldn’t stop herself from touching his shoulder. Letting him see that she understood why he stood in the doorway, why he wouldn’t go near the fire. His secret to tell, never hers.

It's worth noting that Nesta's observation wasn't about her figuring out that Azriel liked Elain. Instead, it was her acknowledgment that Azriel was standing back, likely because he was hurt about something, and when he was ready to speak about it, he would.

If most of their "evidence" is based on events up to ACOSAF, and there is limited evidence from ACOSF, except of his bonus chapter that's canon for Elain but not for Gwyn with the exception of half a sentence, that's a pretty telling sign to me that SJM is moving away from that pairing. Conversely, in almost every instance where Lucien is mentioned, there is some form of connection to Elain, reminding us that SJM has not forgotten about them.

The only person who did take notice of E/riel was Rhys and had something definitive to say.

Considering how the inner circle typically reacts when Rhys says something, his words carry much more significant weight.

After all, even Feyre understood and forgiven Rhys for keeping the pregnancy risk hidden from her.

[casuallivi]

The Midnight Kiss

List of things that got a chokehold on me: Elain, Elain Archeron, Elain Kingslayer, Elain the Quiet Dreamer, Azriel, Flashbacks.

Characters blueprint: Cass: inappropriate, flirty | Elain: hyperactive, daydreamer | Azriel: passionate, straightforward | Mor: damaged, ambitious.

Enjoy. Comments are welcomed and cherished :)

Part 2: What in the Freaky Friday nonsense is going on

A fish out of water had more mouth action than Elain, because she was paralyzed. Completely and utterly paralyzed.

She saw it happening in slow motion, her eyes turning the size of golf balls as Azriel’s big hands cradled her face, bringing her closer to his puckered lips. She opened her mouth, if to scream or laugh she would never know, because in that moment his mouth hit hers, a peck landing awkwardly between her upper lip and the smooth skin under her nose. His half-lidded gaze moved up to hers, brown and hazel locking together as he gently tilted her head and corrected the kiss. Elain quivered. Not from the weirdness of him deciding to kiss her out of nowhere – which was extremely weird – but because her face tingled in every point of contact they shared.

He might as well have sucked the air from her lungs, because she was breathless instantly, electricity shooting up her spine. Elain ha always thought that kissing one’s boss was a big no. Right now every part of her chanted yes, yes, yes. Her brain short-circuited.  God, how long has it been since she kissed someone? It’s been a while since she dated someone, and Elain was never a fan of the whole one-night-stand culture.

Elain Archeron liked to bring the implicit rules of friends-to-lovers into real life. She liked to meet someone organically, get to know what send their brain ticking, test their sense of humor before evolving form the crushing-stage to the I-want-you-stage. The crushing stage happened to her a lot. The problem was most of her crushes were temporary and fickle, a week's worth of infatuation till her energetic brain got bored and needed something new to feel stimulated.

With Cassian things were different. He was different. Cassian Marino came, stayed and still was the object of her fantasies – the man was going strong for a whole year! Elain knew he would be one of her one-week-crushes the moment she heard his rumbling laughter ricochet like a thunder in the studio. Nuala, her amazing bestie, cashing a favor, led to Elain meeting the biggest handsome man she ever seen in her life. That day Cassian was too busy flirting with a giggly model to notice her. Elain, on the other hand, noticed everything about him.

For Christ’s sake, the man looked like a walking ad to a very expensive shampoo for lumberjacks. He was tall, tall and buffed! His arms alone were probably the size of her head, the muscles covered in healthy-looking and sun kissed bronzed skin. Long black hair shined in perfect behaved waves cascading down from the top of his head to the juncture where his shoulders met his neck, handsome features completed by bushy eyebrows framing delicate hazel eyes, a strong nose, luscious lips and a face clean of bothersome beards, which elevated his already high status in her opinion.

"That's Cassian, our CEO." Nuala said. "He used to reside in Cali, personally managed the franchise there, but I think he's moving here now that his brother is back in the country."

Nuala went on about his brother, saying lots of uninteresting stuff she’d learned since his return, classic office gossip. Elain didn’t listen to a single thing, didn’t care about it at all, worrying simple about retaining the import part of the conversation.

That's Cassian. That's Cassian. That's Cassian. That's Cassian. That's Cassian. That's Cassian.

Elain twirled a curl in her finger. In one day, she snagged a good paying gig and a Greek god of a crush, what a sweet deal. Feeling giddy, she set up her equipment and began her work. The day was perfect. Nuala coworkers were kind, the models were amazing, the clothes were stunning, the lighting was on point and Elain was confident she would deliver a perfect book. Soon her bliss was interrupted. The brother, who she found uninteresting and didn’t care to learn a thing about, and who also happened to be Nuala’s immediate boss, decided he had nothing better to do than micromanaging her the entire day. The man was so annoying he managed to purge the Cassian-induced-bliss from her mind, only thoughts of strangling Azriel with her camera’s safety strap remaining.  

At first, she tried to be polite, keep it professional, be considerate of his direction without changing her style too much.

"Mr. Marino, I've been a professional photographer for four years, I know what I'm doing."

"Ms. Archeron, take my lead. I have more years in this industry than you have of life,”

“Really? Your age doesn’t show at all.” She interrupted, looking him up and down. Elain hated condescending people.

Azriel glared at her.

“I don’t like this pose. Emilia's dress looks blurry."

"I asked her to sway the dress to help capture the skirt’s details. I want to showcase the multicolor peacock feathers." She explained patiently.

"Yes, and by doing that I get a blur in the upper half.” Azriel tapped his pen aggressively on the computer screen where the photos were simultaneously displayed as she took them. The staff girl sitting by the computer – a young-looking thing, still fresh with pimples in the face – paled, her distress making Elain take a deep, deep breath.

Don’t forget Nuala works here, she reminded herself, keep cool. Do it for her.

"Mr. Marino, these are a rough idea of the result, not the result.”

“I don’t want my cover dripping with photoshop.” He objected.

“It won’t be. I guarantee you the photos I'll place in your hands will be perfect. You just have to trust me, trust me and let me do my job."

Azriel managed to back up for the total of two seconds before he started nagging and disturbing her again. Worse, the bastard screamed at her. Screamed.

“Can’t you to do your job right?”

Elain didn’t think she was getting paid enough to put up with that. She exploded, responding him with the same sweet tone.

"Can’t you take that stick out of your ass and let me take the goddamn pictures?" She nearly busted a vein in her forehead, but boy was it worth it.

"Excuse me?" Azriel said in a lethal quiet tone.

"Nuala!" Someone yelped, trying to grab her before her body hit the ground.

Later, Elain would learn her friend passed out for a second, hallucinating the words “you are fired” blinking in capital letters in front of her face. Right now she was too busy having a staring contest with an impossible man to care for her friend’s mental state.

"You are excuse! Now get out of my set." Elain pointed to the backdoor.

Azriel exhaled, making an incredulous sound, looking a lot more like a maniac than he had earlier.

"Are you high? This is not your set, Archeron, this is my set."

"Well, I'm the goddamn photographer, without me there's no cover, so right now this is my set. I suggest you shut up and let me work, or get out. Preferable, get out."

The studio was deadly quiet after that, they could cut the tension in that place with a knife. In retrospect, Elain may have stepped a tiny-itsy-bitsy out of the line, which was totally not her fault, at all. I mean, no one likes to work with an overbearing person breathing down your neck... The mood only improved when Cassian sauntered over to solve the dispute.

"Wow, wow, wow. Let's calm down, you two are making my models tenser than a virgin’s bun in a brothel’s brunch.”

Elain held her laugh. Azriel groaned loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose, mumbling something along the lines of, "...one more harassing complain because of these stupid puns…”

Cassian slapped his shoulder so hard he budged an inch. "Az, chill out man. We don't have the luxury of losing another photographer." He whispered to his brother.

Turns out Elain was the sixth professional they called to solve the cover mess. All the previous photographers ran away for being yelled at, or quitted in minutes… for being yelled at.

"And you, little miss hot overalls. Standing up to the big man, I like that.” Cassian winked at her, a charming smile stretching over his face. “What is your name again, sweety?"

"Elain,” she answered a little harshly, still worked up from the conflict. “Elain Archeron."

“Lovely Elain, who came all the way from my dreams to save us in this dire situation.”

“Oh, for the love of God,” Azriel groaned from somewhere, but Elain only had eyes for Cassian, who was kissing the back of her hand, making her red in the face for a whole different reason.

"A pleasure, my darling. I'm Cassian Marino, your faithful slave."

He wrapped a heavy arm around her shoulder, turning her away from Azriel, ready to goad her with soft words and pleasantry.

"You see, Elain, my brother here is acting like a stressed porcupine because he's worried about this month’s issue. We need the pics asap, and as you know, since you are a very fine skilled photographer yourself, they need to be treated before we can print anything. I’ll let you in on secret because you are a pretty girl.” He glued his lips to her ear making her shiver all over. Her fighting fire extinguished instantly. “My brother is a tad egocentric, he thinks he’s the only one who can do things the correct way, but I know you'll delivery us killer pictures, won’t you honey?”

“Of course.” She had conviction in her ability to do a good job.

“Of course. You do look like a girl who is a pro where hand jobs are involved.” Cassian pretended to be clicking an invisible camera, giving her a shameless wink. Elain giggled. Actually giggled. “You won't let this issue get delay, will you, lovely Elain?

"No." She said smiling, turning serious once his obnoxious brother was in her line of sight again. "But he needs to let me work, I do not need his constant directions.  I know what I’m doing. He’s breathing down my neck since I got here, acting stricter than a virgin’s father in a sausage fest.”

Cassian stopped leaning on her shoulder to lean on his brother’s, his hearty laugh lifting her spirits. "I like her. Can we keep her?” A flush spread over her cheeks. He said he liked her. Cassian looked at her from over his shoulder. “Do your job bella, I’ll take the prude father. Come on, let the girl enjoy her sausage fest in peace.”

And her job she did. All it took for her to finished the shoot and deliver the treated photos in time was Azriel stopping being a stick in her ass. Elain handed him stunning photos and a viral cover, thank you very much

See? That’s why she liked handsome, good-humored men, with sunny smiles and braze personality. They were natural problem solvers, had that especial ability to make her feel sublime. Contrary to handsome, snarky, control freaks who nitpicked every single detail of, well, everything.

Oh, what an irony that said good-humored man was somewhere near, but she was in a locked embrace with the control freak, his snarky mouth kissing her so good her lids shut down, stars blowing up behind her them. A frail whimper escaped her, her body going lax, melting into the slow-deep-sugary-kiss that sent her sanity to the moon. Her insides burned like a supernova, and it goddamn long time to realize that it was for lack of oxygen. Azriel pulled away first, experiencing the same effect, dragging a much-earned mouthful of air in. To her utter shock, as he pushed back, Elain tried to chase after him.

The hand he had twisted in her hair stopped her from following, kept her at bay, his lips moving to a new caress that allowed them to breath. Elain found herself staring at the sky, where fireworks still popped, small kisses being peppered all over her jawline, then his lips dip lower the slightest fraction, just enough to touch the side of neck.

The contact with the galloping pulse on her neck gives them pause. Seems to wake him to the fact that he was about to manhandle her in an open backyard, where everyone could see. Seems to wake her to the fact that she wouldn't care if he did.

Azriel’s breath is erratic, out of control, his mind a whirlwind of chaos and something very unexpected; want. Want hits him out of nowhere. The reality of what he’s done doesn't seem to sink in properly. Slowly, he disentangles his fingers from her hair, putting distance between their bodies, the soft hand with manicured nails, that were twisting the front of his shirt, let him go, dropping back to her lap.

"Wow,” she mumbles.

Azriel looks for something to say. Anything.

"Feeling in love yet?" the words are barely out of his mouth before he’s making a constipated expression. Jesus, Cassianism was beginning to rub on him.

The insult doesn’t land quite right with his voice coming out way breathier than before. Shit. The kiss was supposed to be a provocation. Azriel intended to give her a peck and prove her so called 'resolution' was bullshit. Getting over people was way harder than kissing a nameless face on a whim. He knew that better than most. Azriel had looked at, and thought about, the same woman his entire life, even after breaking up numerous times. He tried to get her, of course. Over the years he went on mindless blind dates set up by his brother and friends, kissed a woman here and there, did his best to surpass the miserable cycle of breaking-up-getting-back-together-without-never-really-being-together he had going on with Morrigan during the entirety of his mid-twenties to his early thirties.

The problem was he could never prioritize any of these women over her. Could never prioritize himself either. He could count on the finger of one hand how many times he went on a second date with the same girl. His dates followed a pattern. He either didn’t click with them, or got back together with Mor before processing if he liked them. All it took was one crying phone call and, bang! Back to the mess. Another favorite of hers was cry and bang on his door till his neighbors were treating to call the police. If she happened to know he dared to go on a date, his phone would blow up till he picked up. Picked her up.

“You know I love Az, I really do, I never loved anyone in my life as I love you.”

Liar. She loved herself more.

“I can’t be in a public relationship, you know that. You know how misogynist this industry is. They want celebrities single and alone so they can fantasy about us in bed at night. If I go public with you my career is over. People will hate me for being loved by you.”

She was right about people’s misleading obsession with celebrities. Some of them might burn her pictorials to feel better or something idiotic like that, but they would calm down and forget about it. People were fickle like that. Nothing lasted long in this industry.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live without you. I rather die than live without you.”

From all of her veiled threats, these were the ones he hated the most. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true. You know is true, you know I’m not strong to go on without you.”

Her crying ringed in his ears like a death melody. “I can’t be your lifeline forever, Mor.”

“Please, please, give me another chance. I’ll do better, I’ll talk to my manager, I’ll prepare him for the blow.”

He didn’t miss the wording she choose. The blow. Because he would destroy her career, the second thing she was passionate about the most in her life.

“He’ll come around. He’ll understand. People will forgive eventually, the industry will take me back later, it will all work out somehow. If I can’t be a model anymore, If I can’t… Please Az, please.”

It was the same old story, really. She will do this, she will do that, she will change, she will do better, she will be perfect, except she never did. She never changed. He was the one doomed to end up feeling an asshole in the few times he was able to say “no” to her, to stay broken up. During those times, misery reigned in his life even harder. He felt miserable for not giving her a chance, for turning his back on her, for not believing that she could better herself… Then he was the one knocking on her door, guilt guiding him back in her path.

Ten years went by like that. Time slipped away from his finger, the things he enjoyed weren’t so joyous anymore, the girl he loved only loved herself. One morning Azriel opened his eyes and the only thing he could feel was loneliness, he felt

so

fucking

lonely.

The loneliest he ever felt was being in a relationship.

Except he didn’t have a relationship.

He had a messy-something-ship, an anchor tied to his feet by a knot of his own making. It was only then he noticed he had no strength to keep doing that, because he had started to think about her like an anchor, a weight dragging him down, drowning his spirit, killing his soul. That day Azriel decided it was time to stop the cycle for good, even if it meant living miserably, feeling like a monster for abandoning her. It was better to live hating himself than hatting her. He could never hate her.

That’s why the want was so unexpected for him.

The moment he kissed Elain he felt the tingle of a little something trying to snap his attention, like a spark ready to burst. His lips sizzled, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up to attention, and when she snapped out of her daze to correspond, an electric current dispersed under his skin making him beaming with energy. But why now? Why her? What changed? Elain Archeron and him weren’t friends, calling themselves “coworkers” was the best way they found to keep civil. How could he be kissing this girl when they barely knew a thing about each other... Right? Feeling intrigued, Azriel began to catalog the things he knew about her.

Azriel met Elain through Nuala, one his most competent employees, who happens to be her best friend. She has been a photographer for five years now. She has two sisters who she won’t shut up about it; the MMA fighter and the Arts professor. She has a particularly keen eye for nocturnal shoots. She drives an old Honda with no electrical windows. She gets restless in long meetings and changes subject constantly mid conversation. She likes trashy movies with no real cinematic value. She likes floral collections, jeans overalls and gets extra giggly around latino models. She hardly drinks coffee. She likes to tell shitty jokes. She can curse him three different names under one minute. She can’t sing shit –but she will go up in a stage with so much confidence you’d think she can… And she has a ten feet fall for his brother.

Okay…

Maybe he knew a little bit more about her than he imagined. Azriel’s brain slowly began to work, a scheme cooking in the back of his mind. How far could he take this?

"Come on," he helped her up, careful to kick the beer bottles from the way to avoid her stumbling, fingers woven with hers as he dragged her towards the house.

"Where?

"Upstairs."

"Why?"

"I want to talk."

"We can talk here,"

Elain watched the back of his head moving from side to side.

"Too many people. I don't like people."

"I'm people!" She squeaked.

He stopped, looked at her, rolled his eyes, them kept going.

Elain gulped, a thick nervous lump forming in her throat. One minute they are kissing, the next he is taking her to a reserved place because he wants to talk? Jesus H. Christ and all the saint who are in heaven.

Suspicion trashed against her ribs. He probably didn’t mean talk, talk, right? She may be relatively new to the fashion industry, but Nuala wasn’t. Elain had heard all about the conversations people like him liked to have in events like this. About the luxurious parties thrown so the rich and famous could mingle without a care in the world, about people locking themselves in a room that did not belong to them to get nasty in someone's sheets. Her heart trashed as she tried to categorize this party. Was this a party, or a party party? This wasn’t, by all means, a super fancy event. Cerridwen, Nuala’s twin and a model, liked to host New Year’s for her close friends and family, and their close friends and family. Elain saw models and designers toasting here and there, but a lot of familiar faces who regularly worked backstage were here as well. Before she could decide her answer, Elain was back to the same bathroom where she had a pity party earlier.

Really? He liked bathroom quickies? How distasteful.

A key twisted inside the lock, the noise ringing loud in her ears.

What kind of panties was she wearing again?

Azriel reared her back till her ass touched the sophisticated marble sink. Elain eyed the facial liquid soap hastily dropped on the sink, judging her. Judging for rage-washing her face because Cassian was dating, only to be locked in here with his brother in the same night. His brother. His blood. Oh my. What was Azriel thinking dragging her up here? Did he think they would do it because they kissed? Was he all about one-nights like his brother claimed to be until yesterday? No, no, no, no. Elain never had a one-night, and she didn’t intend to start now!... or did she?

The predator stepped in front of her, fingers hooking in the belt loops of her shorts. Up and down he went, feeling the machine-made needlework.

“Listen,” he began.

She panicked and pressed her palms to his chest

"Ican'thavesexwithyou!" there. She said it. She dropped the bomb.

Azriel lifted his gaze.

"What?"

"What?"

She doubted the man ever looked more spooked. "You think I want to have sex in a disgusting bathroom?”

Eyebrows rising, Elain scanned the bathroom. Pristine white tiles, watercolor on the wall, fresh towels folded in square cabinets, a toilet so shiny it reflected their distorted legs, mirrors without a spec of tooth paste. Nope, this man has no idea of what “disgusting” stands for.

"Are you a germophobe?" She smiled at him sweetly.

"Are you a pervert?" Her smile dropped. Elain hoped he was a germophobe, the biggest germophobe in the planet! She would lick something of his everyday just to spite him.

Azriel rubbed his temple, mumbling, "worse than Cass, swear to God…" then he said, "nevermind that. To be clear, I am not trying to have sex with you."

"Why not?"

Elain crossed her arms over her chest, offended. Why wouldn't he want to have sex with her? She was a healthy, young, pretty and independent woman. What a joke, this man. This lousy idiot wouldn't recognize a catch if she sat on his face.

"Do you want to have sex with me?"

Did she? I mean, till tonight she never thought about him as man, never bothered to look at him twice, not when his brother was right there beside him, trading jokes with her, touching her when he laughed, flexing so she could feel his biceps. Her mind was all Cassian till Azriel kissed his presence known, making Elain swiftly comb through their previous interaction to see if this was a thing brewing. It wasn't. Calling him by his first name was the extent of their proximity.

"No." She said at last.

"That's why."

Azriel shook his head in disbelief. He was bewildered to be having such a ridiculous discussion, in a ridiculous place. Sex! In a stranger’s bathroom, for fuck sakes. See? This is why he avoided interacting with her outside of work-related functions. Elain Archeron had a way to shatter his rationality, sucking him right into the crazy wonderland where her mind resided, instigating him to act as childish as her. Azriel ruffled his hair. Well, he might as well get used to it if he was really going to do what he was thinking about doing.

"Okay. Here goes nothing, Archeron." He breathed in and out. "We had a thing," Who? "Morrigan and I. It was messy, complicated and no one knows about. And no one needs to know about it. Got it?"

"Got it... Wait a minute, you messing with your brother's girlfriend?!??" His voice had hit an all-time low, but Elain could not help but yelp. His hand flew to cover her mouth, a large sexy hand which managed to spam half her face with easy. "How dared you! Your own brother!" She screeched behind his palm.

"I said, had, past tense. If you wanna get technical about it, he's the one messing with my girl... Ex-girl…" a pensive pause later, he added, "well, she was never really mine, but that story is long and boring and I'm not sure your slug brain can follow before I sober up and shut down."

Elain pried her face free. "Are you insulting me?"

"Dunno. Am I?" Azrile smirked, cleaning his hand in his pants.

"Don't insult me, or I’ll lick you up." She threatened. "Why are you telling me this anyway? You hate me!"

At that, he frowned. "Why would I hate you?"

"Believe me, I've been asking myself the same thing." The v between his brown deepened.

"I don't hate you, Archeron."

"The way you treat me tells another story, Marino." She emphasized his last name the way he did hers. "Admit it, we did nothing but fight from day one."

"Because you are a confrontational little goblin who keeps fronting me. I'm your superior, you should do as I tell you, not try to freestyle in work as you do in other parts of your life."

Elain turned her head to the side. Just because he was making sense, doesn't mean he had to agree with him.

"Nothing I do is good enough for your pompous taste. I can deliver a perfect set and you'll still find a way to be displeased."

Azriel paused, comprehension striking him like a lightning. "Is this about the wine ad?”

"Of course, this is about the wine ad. That concept was perfect and you know it!"

Roughly five months ago, Nuala had pitched the perfect concept to spicy up their issue: mixing the photoshoot of Bela Gio's new collection with a wine ad for an expensive cabernet. Elain found her friend’s insight brilliant, because the collection was centered on the color wine. Unfortunately, the idea was mercilessly shut down by Azriel.

“I’m disappointed with you, Nuala. You, of all people, should be past pitching stupid suggestions. Do me a favor, don't waste my time unless you have a real idea.”

The briefing room froze. The bastard was so cold, he killed her friend's fire for days. There was no reason for such a crass rejection, especially not in front of the team. When not even the good old pizza-and-romcom-night was enough to restore her friend’s spirit, Elain lost it. Next thing she knew, Elain was doing want any good photographer would do in that situation; trying to convince her client he secretly wanted the posing tips he thought he didn't. In this case, the posing tips were the concept.

“Azriel can be narrowminded. He’ll come around once he sees your idea is solid.”

“You sure?”

“Positive!”

They secretly worked after hours – in her free time, mind you – preparing a low budget demo that showcased all the charm of the idea. Bella Gio's collection had already came in anyway, all her pieces stored in the usual room on the 11th floor, draped in protective plastic, waiting for the day of the official shoot. Cerridwen accepted being their demo-model, cost free, and Elain spent a copious amount of hours editing their scenario, glamoring the white sheets away. Honestly, the three of them deserved an ad award for pulling that off!

Azriel, however, had a different idea about their heist and what they deserved for it. The man went bonkers. The man was livid. The man nearly popped a vein in his neck from screaming! He excused Nuala after a hard sermon, but Elain...Oh boy.

Elain he kept to torture, drilling on her like a qualified spymaster who slaughtered his victims with half-blunt tools.

“This was your idea, wasn’t it? No, don’t bother denying, I can recognize your thumb all over this from a mile away!”

"… I don’t think you have the smallest clue of how idiotic that was,"

"...had damaged any one of those pieces. God forbidden they leaked somehow, the shit storm you'd drop on my lap!”

“… idiot, stupid delusion, when I clearly told you not to do it…”

"Ms. Gio could sue you for this fucking mess, she could sue this entire department! The fucking company going down in shambles…"

"...don’t know how you’d deal with getting your coworkers fired, this magazine going under, because you could not accept the idea was bad…”

"moronic attempt to be a hero, you had to swipe in,"

"... newbie who seems to have learned nothing about trademark in her life!”

Elain thought he would never stop. No one should be able to scream that long without needing a water break, it was inhumane. Truth be told, she felt really hurt and upset in the beginning, but as the minutes went on, Elain began to actually feel impressed with how many different ways he came up to call her an “idiot” in forty-five minutes. That’s how long he pierced her eardrum. Forty-five perpetual minutes.

At last he said, "Get out of my office,” all red in the face, tie loose and crumpled around his neck from a moment where he was probably imagining strangling her, but redirected his anger to the piece of fabric in time. Elain was more than happy to disappear from his sight – and maybe never come back. Yeah, she should scram from that office all together.

“Archeron.” Her hand paused on the doorknob. Yelling sure was tiring, because Azriel sounded less hostile now, as if he regained the smallest semblance of control over his emotions. "This was extremely irresponsible. Don't do this again.”

"Don't do this again." Elain mocked in the present, the memory of that awful day triggering her urge to punch him. She had that urge a lot. "You never apologized, by the way." She refused to meet his eyes. "You never apologized for yelling at me like that."

“I didn’t.”

“You did not.”

"Well, I'm sorry... I’m sorry that you can’t follow a simple order."

That’s it.

Elain attacked quick as a serpent, years of cat-fighting her sisters flashing before her eyes as her hands flew around his neck, ready to strangle the life out of him. Unfortunately, she only managed to get a good hard squeeze before he grabbed her wrists, immobilizing her there. Next thing she knew, he was meeting her hostile glare.

"I’m sorry I yelled at you. I should have handled that better, but I didn’t. I sorry for lashing out. Listen, there are dozens of agreements going on behind a Collab like that, contracts signed to protect a stylist's hard work, to protect our work, our magazine. Fifty-four Marinos employees could lose their jobs in the blink of eye if things turned south that day, do you understand that?” Elain tried to find an occasion where he spoke so patiently and calmly with her before. She came back empty handed. "I know you have knowledge gaps because fashion was not your passion, but it is mine. I know photographing weddings and anniversaries gave you more liberty,”

"I also did graduations." She interrupted softly, unable to shut up, but slightly off game in face of this new soft-spoken side of him.

The corner of his lip tuned up. Azriel was actually mildly surprise she waited so long to cut him. It was unlike her to know how to stay quiet.

"Weddings, anniversaries and graduation.” He corrected himself. “Got it.”

"And sports event,"

"…And sports event,"

"And occasional swingers nudebooks." At that, he reared back.

"Occasional what?"

"Oh, you know, it's when swingers schedule a little rendezvous and want a couple of pictures as memento. They hire a photographer, strip naked, get down to it, and we,” she wiggled her hands free, pretending to hold an invisible camera, clicking the imaginary button on top. Azriel turned pale in the face. Suddenly, Elain's body begins to shake with laughter. "I'm just fucking with you."

Suffocated, Azriel popped the first button of his shirt open, his blood pressure was reaching an all-time high.

“What am I even doing here,” he wondered out loud.

Why did he pulled her aside in the first place? Having a serious conversation with this girl was impossible. Azriel cursed his imagination for giving into her provocation and wandering into weird territory. He had no interest in thinking about a swingers party, even a fake one.

“You were apologizing to me," she says.

“No, I don't think that was it,”

“You were. You were telling me to give up my amazing creativity in order to fit in this tight-ass system. Sounded like a weird apology to me, but you are a weird man, so it adds up."

His head falls against her neck, a rumbling groan heating her skin. Azriel doesn't know if wants to strangle or kiss her into silencing. A kiss or two could to wonders to shut her up, she looked much prettier with that mouth opening to house his tongue instead of spouting nonsense. He kissed the spot where her pulse beat, surprised to found himself enjoying the way she shivered in his arms.

“Your creativity is welcome when we work with flexible people, not with someone as intransigent as Gio.”

Elain pulls his face up, smiling sweetly as she brings him closer to whisper, “don't yell at me anymore, it is not professional nor required, and I'll punch you square in the nose if you do it."

"Deal."

They shake on it.

"My sister is an MMA fighter, so you can bet your ass she taught me how to punch."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Satisfied with the apology Elain moves to the door, Azriel pulling her back by the arm.

"Where are you going?"

"Eeerh, back to the party?"

"I haven't said what I wanted."

"Are you kidding me? You talked so much! Honestly, I don't think I ever heard you talk this much, for a second there was I worries you'd turn the Shakespeare on,"

"Listen, I have a proposition to you." Taking a page from her book, Azriel interrupts her and talk, spilling the words fast, before the courage leaves him. "You want to get over my brother, and I want to get over her," her name gets stuck on his throat, the midnight kiss she shared with his brother burned on his lids. “I hate to admit, but that crazy talk about a lover might be exactly what I need to move on. What we need. So, instead of doing weird things with strangers, let's help each other, let's date and move on."

Elain is speechless, her mind blank. His words are rushed, but honest, the sincerity in his voice fascinating her. A sea of hazel invades her sight as he seeks her gaze, apprehension burning in her walls.

Azriel changes his weight from one foot to the other, the silence is uncharacteristic to her, it unsettles him.

"Date me, Elain." He repeats. "Date me and I'll date you."

Calling her name is a low move. He never called her name. She'd always known he had a sexy voice with that rough baritone thing going on, but that voice saying her name does things to her.

Date me, Elain. Date me, Elain. Date me, Elain. Date me, Elain. Date me, Elain. Date me, Elain.

"Why - why me?" She asks with a small voice, fingers clutching to the material of the shirt above his shoulders. "You say you don't hate me, but you don't like me either. We are not friends."

She was right, they were not friends. Friends didn’t kiss like that. They were past being friends.

"I'm not my brother, I don't like one-nights, it's impersonal and I detest strangers in my space. It's hard for me to connect with people I don't know. You, I know you - you get on my nerves, but that’s just who you are as a person, I've learned to live with that. And kissing you,’’ he touches her lips, “I enjoyed kissing you more than I anticipated.”

Elain swallows dry, the insult flying over her head. She enjoyed kissing him too.

Warm lips land on her cheek, the sweetest of kisses imprinted there, then another one, closer to the corner of her mouth, sharp teeth pinching her skin next, the amorous bite making all kinds of forbidden images flash in her mind. Christ.

"You said to do different, right?" She agrees silently. "Could you imagine me having a heart-to-heart, in a filthy bathroom, with you, of all people?"

Nope. Never in a million years.

"This is me doing different." He kisses the other side of her face, making Elain unsteady on her feet as she processes what is happening, the monumental proposal turning her lightheaded and astonished.

So, by Azriel's logic, the woman he used to see was dating Cassian, who Elain wanted to start seeing, and since his not-girlfriend stole Elain's future-boyfriend, Elain would now steal her ex-boyfriend – or almost boyfriend – and they would embark in this crazy romance to move on from their failed lovers?!

Was that it?

Jesus.

On his side the situation made a bit more sense, she supposed. For him, Elain was a new girl in the equation, completely unrelated to his old flame, but for her… did he really expected her to trade brothers like that? Swap bodies and keep the last name and all would be good and right in the world? Who, in their sane mind, would try to get over a man with his brother?

“So. What do you say?” Azriel asked expectantly.

Good question.

What did she say?

Sweet mother of God.

What in the Freaky Friday nonsense was going on!

[unanswered-stars]

let's get juicy with these questions: 🍄 🍬 ❄️ 🏜️🧩

Always lovely to hear from you Hunt! You want juicy you get juicy…

🍄 - Eris’s chambers have always been incredibly warded and Azriel always assumed it was for protection but it’s actually because Eris sleep walks and after Beron tried to beat the habit out him numerous times as a boy he found that warding his chambers so he could not leave in his sleep was enough to satiate his father.

🍬 - Hot take incoming, you have been warned. The person I am most mad at about in the whole pregnancy thing is Majda. My reasoning is if I were in that situation I would be far more upset at my medical provider keeping that from me than my husband. Reason being I can understand that emotions can completely cloud your judgement especially when it comes to the people you love most. My medical provider does not get to be emotional about what they choose to share with me. They give me the whole picture no matter how ugly and all the research they have along with their UNBIASED opinions, if they are not equipped to handle a problem I best be the first person they are talking to about it. To be clear I dislike both Majda AND Rhys for their role in hiding the truth from Feyre but I place more weight on Majda’s lack of transparency. Also to be clear my husband would never in 7million lifetimes keep something like that from me (the man can’t even wait for a gift to come in the mail before he spills the surprise). The only world in which I find this excusable is if there was a behind the scene with her and Rhys and he command her as High Lord, thus magically preventing her, or she genuinely feared for her life because of Rhysand.

I am very passionate about transparency and honesty in the medical system, having worked in it and experienced it. During my last pregnancy I had some “fun” things pop up and my midwife knew that her expertise was not going to cut it so in addition to all the work and research I was doing she did her own and called various people to find me the help I needed. Even once I had that outside help it was a conversation point during every appointment to make sure I was still happy with the outside resources I had found and making sure I thought they were still helping me adequately. She put time and effort into making sure that I had the best overall comprehensive care that would lead to the best outcomes for me and baby even though some of that care did not come from her she was not afraid to ask for help. I could never in a million years see Majda doing this for a patient based off her treatment of Feyre. Someone can correct me if I’m wrong but at least Rhysand was actively looking for solutions to the problem, why was an Illyrian midwife never brought in to consult or at least another medical practitioner from the Night Court. Majda is just soloing it and la-de-da and it irks me. I am willing to conceded that there could be things that happened off page but since we don’t actually see it then I remain justified in my dislike of Majda. If you think I’m letting Rhys off the hook you can look at my post here for my tangent on him.

❄️ - so my dream fic idea is actually a secret one I’m working on but I will say I think @chunkypossum would do a better job because it’s angst city and she is the queen of azris angst. I will say you wouldn’t like it because *spoiler* it includes major character death…

🏜️ - I love any and all comments that seriously all make my day. I will say one of the funnest ones to read was @chunkypossum live commentary on The Beginning and End of Friendship is was so fun to read through my fic with her commentary on the side and experience it through someone else’s eyes.

🧩 - I have to vibe with it if I don’t vibe with it I struggle. I am a completionist so is almost unheard of that I don’t finish a fic once I start it but sometimes it’s a struggle.

Thank you so much for sending in these questions! I love answering all of these. If you want to join, the list of questions can be found here!

[merpshire]

Just finished reading House of Flame and Shadow (Crescent City Book 3) by Sarah J Maas. It was a fine read and pretty much exactly what you’d expect to get from her. In my opinion, the book felt like it got edited to all hell in order to keep the story arc down to a trilogy. There’s scene jumps constantly where it doesn’t make sense to have scene jumps and the cast is so big that the book doesn’t do most of them justice. Some major spoilers to follow as I talk about more specific things!

The book has some enjoyable scenes, particularly if you’re a fan of angsty romance, angst in general, or comeuppance for assholes. However the pacing of the book is so fast that it never feels like there’s any stakes and all the characters’ plans just work out. A lot of the comeuppance could be a lot more satisfying if time was taken to actually put the characters in bad situations they have to get out of. For example when the characters are in Avallen, they never really find themselves at the mercy of King Morven. They go where they want and do what they want and the one time Morven gets involved, they just kill him.

I enjoyed getting to read Lidia’s scenes in this book but feel like SJM missed the mark on her backstory. There’s a lot of hinting about her terrible father and life, then some interesting scenes where she clearly knows King Morven more than the other characters. Unfortunately, none of that matters as she is not King Morven’s daughter and her family lineage is actually the same as Aelin from the Throne of Glass series. I know that there’d have to be some major explanations for how she and Cormac didn’t know each other and all that jazz but it could’ve really helped some of the other issues the book had.

My only other major complaint is that this book was setup to be like a big fun crossover with the ACOTAR characters and then the book didn’t do anything with that at all. We only see Nesta and Azriel (technically Rhysand in the beginning but all he does is ask Bruce a few questions and leave) as they walk through some underground caves with Bryce, who leaves once their journey ends. The whole time Bryce is in the ACOTAR realm is one big exposition dump that could’ve come from anywhere. I was disappointed with the crossover stuff, but oh well!

Anyway, it was a fine book and I enjoyed it a reasonable amount despite these complaints. XD If you like SJM’s work and aren’t invested in your own particular lore theories being correct then you’ll like this book.

[tadpolesonalgae]

But... They kept Nesta and dealt with her? So what's their problem now? Favouritism.

( not me trying to justify her being a mean girl 😂)

No but for real ALL of them have done so much wrong shit and they throw the ball at her for being probably better than Rhys himself? like my boy I love you and all but didn't you also kill children from the winter court? ( Correct me if I'm wrong ) I don't know about you but damn

Feyre I also love you but you destroyed a whole entire court and most likely ruined a lot of innocent people's life instead of fucking up tampón's( I really wanted her to beat him up ) he's a high lord compared to him, his people are the ones getting the short end of the stick. He'll be fine.

Nesta....

Cassian and Azriel of course have also probably done a lot of wrongs that we ourselves are not aware of because we see things from feyre and Nesta point of view and we barely know anything about them.

Amren....

And

Elain 😬

Mor??? Honestly I barely know anything about her 😭

The reader being a mean girl is the last thing I would think they'll draw the line to ( probably did worse 😂 but she has just been introduced so I'll just say what's on my mind now lol )

I think with the killing of the winter court children it’s kind of confusing because 1) it was under Amarantha’s reign so he didn’t want to do that and most importantly 2) I’m pretty sure during the High Lord’s meeting he says that it wasn’t him who tore their minds apart? Because I think that’s the scene we have where someone asks where he was during the massacre and he has to tell a whole group of High Lords what Amarantha had been doing to him and that he was kept confined to her bedroom?

Aside from that though, I’m really looking forward to going into their past together (reader and the IC) and hopefully getting to touch on some of the other pivotal moments in their relationships! I really want to write the scene where she takes an oath of submission to Rhys because that’s where I think they first started to break apart as a group :)

Also with Nesta, I suppose she never committed any physical violence, whereas reader whose been waring on Rhys’ temper for quite a while now, so he’s past the point of forgiveness. Hence the harsh sentence. (But she’ll be back)

Additionally I think most of us can agree reader’s attitude absolutely sucks 🤦🫣

I’ll be so interested to see if your opinion changes if the story continues! 🧡💛

[starfall-spirit]

These Two Hearts

Most Romance Week Prompts are based off of a song.

Day 5: Tracy Byrd's Keeper of the Stars

Honestly, the song is more for the ship than this specific prompt. Keeper of the Stars is established Gwynriel in my opinion.

SJMRW Prompt: Feelings Realization

Ship: Gwynriel

Summary: Feelings are realized during a late night training session.

She had done it. Gwyneth Berdara had finally flown the nest.

Since Sangravah, the young priestess had mastered her fears and hesitations, becoming a warrior and master of her own fate. That achievement showed, as she took her throwing knives to the standing dummy that evening as star after star winked into existence, crowning Velaris and the waters beyond in glittering night.

She didn’t know why she came out here. It had been ages since she felt the need to sneak up to the training ring when the rest of the House was asleep. Maybe it was the fact she couldn’t sink a throwing blade for the life of her.

“Restless first night, then?”

She paused. There was that too. Though she’d graduated from the library’s cradle of safety, settling into the House of Wind for more than a Valkyrie sleepover was too foreign to give her an easy night. Not that the shadowsinger questioning her needed to know that. “Only because I’m thinking about how things went today. If I don’t get this down on my own I’ll make a fool of myself tomorrow morning.”

A soft hum left him as he approached. “We can’t have that, now can we?” His fingers just brushed her right wrist and she gave a nod, granting him permission to touch—show—to demonstrate. A warm hand wrapped around the back of hers, his finger and thumbs adjusting her hold on the blade. “Your stance is correct,” he murmured, a warm breath fanning a few wind-whipped strands of hair that had freed themselves from her braid. “Your feet, at least. But your posture is too tense. You need to relax to give your throw accuracy.”

“Oh.” Such a simple word, yet it sounded so ridiculously breathless.

He stepped back and she almost grieved the loss of his warmth against the early spring night. What was wrong with her? He was her instructor—her friend, and— “Relax your body and follow the throw like I taught you earlier,” he instructed, summoning a fae light a bit nearer the target, arms crossed as he waited with impressive patience considering the hour she opted to “train”.

Mimicking the form Nesta had so easily mastered this morning, Gwyn threw the blade, striking the very bottom of the target. “Well, you hit the target this time. And it stayed.” She groaned. “I mean it. A few more minutes and you’ll have your half-spin in ship shape. He returned to his position behind her, this time adjusting the angle of her wrist. “Don’t throw as hard as you can. You have to find the balance. Speed, strength, height.”

She nodded, waiting for him to back up again. The next throw was significantly better. She whipped around with a grin, startling when she found him closer than she expected. “Excellent.”

The swell of pride she often felt when her training improved faded as another feeling took its place. A feeling triggered by heat and proximity. Were Azriel any other male, she knew she’d be scrambling for an exit, but this feeling—that flutter in her chest was far from unpleasant. And she knew.

Then and there, without a doubt, she knew she was falling for the shadowsinger. She could only hope he’d catch her in the end.

"Gwyn?"

"Hmm?" She snapped back to focus, finding his brow scrunched in worry.

"I was just saying tomorrow you might be ready to start on a different style of throwing. Slightly more advanced."

"Oh. That sounds lovely."

He nodded, though his frown deepened. "Get some rest, Berdara. I'll catch you at sunrise."

"Right. Sunrise." Before he could take to the skies, she snatched his wrist in hers. "Thank you, Azriel. For being there."

He smiled. "Always."

~~~~~

Tag List: @sjmromanceweek // @s-uppertime // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris

Shoot me a message/comment/ask if you'd like to be added or removed.

[lovemyromance]

It's fine if you're confused with what Elriels are trying to say! I didn't tag you and therefore I have no obligation to make an argument that's been simplified enough for your personal understanding. I'm not arguing anything on behalf of Elriels, nor am I or any one person representative of an entire group of people.

Also I don't really analyze line by line. I see people saying "Elain and Azriel have no romantic interactions" and then I post a screenshot proving that statement is false, here are receipts of them having romantic interactions. I don't think bringing up physical screenshots from the books requires any interpretation or deeper analysis.

But if that's what you consider "deep analysis" lol then sure?

And again- I am going to say it one last time so your ~literally expert~ self understands:

There is nothing wrong with analysis. But saying your analysis of SJM books is "more correct" or "accurate" than others because you have an English degree is ridiculous.

I've seen so many Elucien or Gwynriel posts with the most outrageous theories. Never had a problem with any of them. I appreciate discourse and like participating in debates. What I do not appreciate is someone trying to make it seem like they have any authority in books made for the masses and that others are wrong in their opinions or interpretations, just because they have a degree. These books are made for everyone.

Yet, you seem to have a tendency for thinking it's all about you - so carry on, I suppose. This post wasn't for you nor was it about you. But keep arguing about something literally nobody is talking about while purposefully ignoring the main point I was trying to make 🤷🏻‍♀️

Just saying, you don't need a masters degree in English literature to read SJM books.

If you did, she wouldn't be anywhere near as popular as she is today. She makes romantasy to peddle to the masses, not your traditional English Lit professors or typical highbrow scholar.

Her writing is not deep, whatsoever. The idea that one would need any sort of advanced degree to read fairie smut is honestly just laughable?

SJM is producing entertainment for the masses. ACOTAR is not some soul-crushing memoir or display of staggering wit.

Which means her writing-and everything in it- is very surface level. What you see on the page, is what you get.

There is simply no need to analyze anything in ACOTAR because it's simply not complex writing that requires such efforts? Readers are easily able to understand her writing, whether they have a degree in 14th century English language and composition, or if they just picked up ACOTAR because they saw it on BookTok.

It's easily digestible. That's why it's so popular.

It's why I always am so utterly perplexed anytime I see a PowerPoint presentation or line by line analysis of scenes from these books. It's not that deep? The message of her books is easily understood.

The people diving into her pages, posting line by line analyses and adding their personal interpretation, claiming it as law are so crazy. I've seen so many posts in this ship war saying "oh welllll I have a degree so therefore I know exactly what SJM truly meant to say" are absolutely delusional at this point. Because honestly, how are you going to say you have a degree in English lit and not understand only the author's interpretation and intent is the true authority?

TLDR: stop trying to claim you are some kind of expert or have any shred of credibility regarding a stupid ship war because you have a degree smh it's weird as hell... go read some Tolstoy or something and leave the fae smut be

[unhealthyfanobsession]

nesta rhys bonding over being the eldest sibling and the pressure that comes w it? this one might not be to everyone’s taste but they’re my favs (forgive me) and i like them getting along. also your rhys is SO GOOD ugh chef’s kiss. you make me love him again queen. YOUR POWER.

I’ll let you in on a secret … writing my version of Rhys is my guilty pleasure so here you go:

Nesta loved to read, which meant that every description started to feel stale at some point and there were certain phrases that peaked her annoyance by even entering her own brain. One of those overused phrases, for Nesta, was when an author described a tense moment by saying that the air grew thick.

Nesta hated that phrase.

So right now, as Rhysand of all people stared down at her with gaping lips that for once did not know how to formulate words, Nesta refused to acknowledge that the air had, in fact, grown thick.

Really, she knew, it was her throat constricting in shock.

When Rhysand offered to teach her to use the Illyrian bow, Nesta was convinced it was some scheme Feyre cooked up to try and make them “bond.”

But Rhysand had been determined from the start. Careful and steady and respectful. He never mocked. Didn’t even tease. He just gave precise correction as he drove her to pick the massive weapon up again and again and moved the target back farther and farther.

After weeks of slow progress, when Nesta drew her elbow back and released the massive arrow as an extension of her body until it slammed directly into the Center of the target at the very farthest corner of the training ring … it left them both slightly in a state of shock.

Bodies tense.

Jaws dropped.

Air thick.

“It wasn’t because of Feyre,” Rhysand blurted. Nesta rose her brow, gaze still fixed on the target. “Why I wanted to teach you myself. It wasn’t because of Feyre.”

“You said it was because you were better at the bow than Cassian and Azriel.”

“And I am,” Rhys preened, “but only because I practiced the most. They preferred other weapons.”

“Why did you prefer the bow?” It seemed impractical, for a High Lord who possessed magic that moved faster, farther, and with more power than a bow. Close up sword and combat training always made sense, but why would he need distance?

“I promised my sister I would teach her when she was older.”

Nesta swallowed, once again refusing to think of the air as thick. Rhysand barely ever spoke of his sister. Nesta didn’t even know the female’s name, she realized.

“I am a very poor replacement for that promise, I imagine.”

“She would have liked you, actually, I think.”

Nesta gaped. “That may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

He smirked, “Astrea was … strong willed,” he smiled. “Opinionated. She hated Illyrian society but craved the opportunity to prove them all wrong. What you did in the blood rite … she would have killed to do that.”

“I’m sure she would have if…”

“If I hadn’t signed her death warrant.”

“That is not what I was going to say.” It was strange, this pensive, maybe even self-deprecating side of Rhysand. Nesta squared her shoulders, “No mistake should carry the consequences that ours did.” She swallowed, “And no child should have to be responsible for their family.”

Rhys’ eyes went dark. “Our mistakes were very different, Nesta Archeron.”

“Were they?” Nesta set the bow down, pulling at the straps on her wrist guard. “Because it sounds to me like we both failed at a job that should have never been ours - protecting our younger siblings.”

“It’s different,” Rhys’s voice was still quiet, eyes turned down, “because I had the power to stop it.”

Nesta whirled around, eyes narrowed in confusion. She never imagined he’d meant …

“I hate that you let Feyre go into those woods, Nesta. I hate what she had to do. I hate it with everything inside of me, but you were just a spoiled girl who didn’t know any better. I was a Carynthian warrior with the power of a future High Lord. It is not the same.”

“I was just a spoiled girl who didn’t know any better,” Nesta agreed. Long last defending herself or her actions to anyone. “But you didn’t know any better either. No matter how important you may think you are in your own mind, Rhysand, you can’t stop death.”

The High Lord let out a low chuckle. “And you can. Ironic, how these things work out.”

“I can’t stop death either,” Nesta shook her head. “I can just … delay it.”

“Long enough,” Rhys looked up to the blazing sun shining over the training ring. “Long enough to save the sister you couldn’t save before. I will never get that chance.”

“You saved your brothers.” Nesta wasn’t sure why she was comforting Rhys, or why he was being so … decent to her, but she knew from too many nights with her head laid on Cassian’s bare chest as he told quiet stories from his childhood, that she spoke the truth.

“It’s hard,” she said when he only shrugged. “Being the oldest. It feels like you are responsible for everyone else, and even if it doesn’t feel that way everyone acts as though it should. As though you are another parent. The expectations … everyone forgets that the same steel is welded to our siblings’ spines and they can take care of themselves. Or maybe sometimes they can’t, but there was never anything that either of us could have done that would have changed any of this.”

“She definitely would have liked you.” Rhys smiled, and for a second Nesta understood what everyone went so stupid eyed for. “You and her and Amren together would have been the end of me.”

“Don’t worry,” Nesta clapped him on the shoulder, “Amren and I are still working on our many plans to be the end of you.”