#pro elriel

[acourtofquietdreamers]

Azriel Week Day 4: Paid Time Off

𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝙧𝙖𝙯𝙤𝙧-𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙥 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙨��𝙞𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘬𝘦. 𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙨 𝙡𝙚𝙛𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙖𝙪𝙩 𝙖𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙨. 𝘚𝘰 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴.

…

𝘈𝘻𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘭 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘬 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘹 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘭𝘺, "𝘗𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦?" 𝗛𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁.

Art by the sweet and talented sunshinecovey_ on instagram and commissioned by me 🦇🌸

In Azriel’s bonus chapter, we learn he’s been sleeping terribly because of his feelings for Elain, but when Elain asked him to put her necklace on, his head went quiet. I think we’ll see Azriel finally get a restful sleep once he’s able to sleep next to the woman he’s been wanting and needing for over a year now. The woman who caused those razor sharp thoughts in his head to quiet at the prospect of being close to her.

Once they finally act on their feelings, I think there’s nothing Az would rather do on his time off than spend time with Elain (and catch up on his sleep 😅). We already saw hints of this when he chose to spend time with her in the garden or stay up with her at 3am to talk while everyone else went to bed 💗

Please do not repost without permission. Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Find this art on instagram here!

@azrielappreciationweek

[rae2velaris]

I've had an anti-Elriel ask me in the past why I would ever place the scene with Elain and Azriel sitting peacefully in the garden as one of my favorite Azriel moments.

If people don't get WHY having complete PEACE with someone's company without the need for conversation, then they have yet to appreciate this small, IMPORTANT moment of companionship.

As someone who's been through a verbally abusive marriage, all that matters to me with finding a partner or even just a friend now is PEACE and understanding.

Those abusive experiences opened my eyes to what truly matters with a relationship. And with all honestly, I believe Azriel and Elain understand and crave this mutual, comfortable, peaceful companionship.

Personally, I've finally found my person now, and my soul is slowly being healed. No more unreachable expectations, no critiquing, no fear. Just peaceful companionship.

To have someone in your life who just accepts YOU and respects your peace is worth more than people realize.

[elainsgirl]

The fact elriels have an actual, canon scene of Azriel offering his scarred hands to Elain, Elain looking down at them and calling his scars beautiful which caused him to blush, before taking his hands’ in hers, not hesitating one bit to touch him, is absolutely crazy to think about.

[nikethestatue]

Azriel Appreciation Week (Day III)

Connections

@azrielappreciationweek

[stargirlfeyre]

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

[shadowsatdawnx]

if SJM went the route of gw*nriel it would make azriel the worst, most fickle fuckboy MMC that she has ever written and that’s why i know it’s not going to happen 🫶

[elrielsgarden]

Elain Archeron belongs in the Night Court. She said so herself. 👏🌸

[elriel-quotes]

My sisters both stiffened at Cassian and Azriel, at those mighty wings tucked in tight to powerful bodies, at the weapons, and then at the devastatingly beautiful faces of all three males.

Elain, to her credit, did not faint.

And Nesta, to hers, did not hiss at them.

A Court of Mist and Fury - Chapter 24

[lovemyromance]

what's your favorite elriel theory

I'm being petty, but I think that Azriel was always destined to be for Elain. Like yes, I think it's so powerful that Elain & Azriel might end up choosing each other over a mating bond -

But I also think there's enough textual evidence to support that Azriel has shown more mate behavior towards Elain than her actual mate.

I know this sounds crazy, but while I believe Elain & Azriel will choose each other FIRST, I still think SJM won't be able to resist and will reveal Elain to either have TWO mating bonds (one blessed by the Mother -> Azriel, and one from the Cauldron -> Lucien), or the mating bond with Lucien is fabricated (a la Maeve in TOG) and Elain's real mate is Azriel.

I think Azriel was slowly dying from the poison/faebane in ACOMAF when Elain was thrown into the Cauldron. He did cry out when she got thrown in – which Feyre thought was from the poison – but what if even Feyre misunderstood? What if he was crying out for Elain - not because of the poison?

He has always been soft with Elain. Even Rhys hasn't bothered to act differently around Feyre's sisters – but Azriel immediately went into gentleman mode around Elain. She had the man reciting poetry at their very first meeting, for god's sake. I think they've always had a connection. Elain might not have been able to put a name on it because she was human – but Azriel must've had some indication.

And then the tiff with Hybern happened.

Azriel was on the brink of death - but he cried out when the King instructed his men to throw Elain in first. And then suddenly, Elain is fae. But before anyone can even blink, Lucien swoops in and claims her.

Now if I were Azriel - I'd be HELLA doubting myself at this time. Because if I had felt a mating bond with a human, who knows if that was even possible? What could it be that I'm feeling, then? And then when that human I share a connection with suddenly becomes fae - but she's immediately "given to another" that doubt comes in FULL FORCE.

It makes perfect sense that Azriel is so hesitant to act on his feelings for Elain. The mating bond is the most sacred thing in their world. Azriel essentially has to say "Fuck your mating bond, I think my connection with her is stronger". Why would he do that before he knew Elain even wanted him back? Why would he fantasize about a future together if he didn't even think she would choose him over a mate?

This man is full of so much self doubt, and unfortunately, his logic tracks. Like the way he is - makes sense. The angst, the self-hatred, the guilt he carries around -> All of this only serves as a barrier to his love with Elain, not just Rhys.

This is a couple that has been set up for an EPIC love story. And after the hard and fast narrative of ACOSF....An Elriel slow, romantic, angst-riddled forbidden love story is exactly what we need.

[flowersandshadows112]

When you think you’re the biggest Elriel shipper, but your opponent is Azriel🙃😏

[rae2velaris]

Sometimes, I think about how concerned Azriel was for Nesta in HOFAS when the mask still possessed power over her.

He held firm on bringing her back.

Listed all the people who loved her dearly.

Caught her and stroked her hair.

Prayed thank you to the Mother.

Azriel and Nesta are dearly close friends.

Can you imagine the absolute care and dedication Azriel will have when the official forbidden love trope begins between Elain and him?

Someone Azriel cares immensely for?

[elainsgirl]

[rizzoreads88]

Azriel is down so bad for Elain🥹♥️

I honestly cannot wait for their book🔥

✨He likes her so much he keeps her gift on his nightstand and looks at it every night…✨

✨He has a physical reaction to E/uciens mating bond and needs to be able to leave if it becomes too much…✨

✨He can’t even stand the sight of e/ucien talking together in the same room✨

If they weren’t endgame there was no reason to include all this and then give us canon confirmation they are into each other.

[truthflower19]

Just here watching how all this author engage with their audience and give teasers and news to their readers. 5 years and will still have not get any information about an Elain’s book or any acotar book

Just watch how the lightlark author just publish book and said that next year she will publish 2 more must be nice

Any one know if this light lark series is good?

[faeprincesswarrior]

I’m deceased.

You already have me

Azriel's confession

An Elriel one shot (Elain’s POV)

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

Warning: sexual content (not explicit)

-----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had thought of her.

“They’re lovely,” she said quietly.

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

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

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

“It should have been you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Elain felt him inhale with her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[elriel-quotes]

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

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

A Court of Wings and Ruin - Chapter 24