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pit-and-the-pen · 2 days

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Unrequited Love

A/N: I had to get to the airport to return a rental car like 5 hours early so I’m so sorry for the pure amount that I’ve been posting today but as a socially awkward girly, if I’m on my own phone then for sure no one is going to talk to me.

Anywho here is some angsty angst about day court!reader and Azriel. I’m thinking of making this like a mini series but idk who reader would end up with. (Let me know if you have any suggestions!)

Forgive any typos I wrote this on my phone.

Warnings: none

WC-1.4K

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My blood was boiling beneath my skin. Azriel has been complaining for the better part of an hour about Rhys gag order regarding Elain. I was trying not to roll my eyes as I had reached my wits end with his lamenting.

“I just don’t understand why he needs to meddle in this. I get she’s Feyre's sister but he doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “I just can’t help but think that sometimes the cauldron gets it wrong.”

His words were spoken so plainly. Anger wanes for a second as I swear I could feel my heart break inside my chest. The words seemed to echo in my head Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. I almost would have rather had him carve out my heart with truth teller.

“What do you think?” He asks me and I sit reeling over his words. I can’t think of anything to say to him. The comforting words I would normally have for him can’t get past the anger starting to cloud my vision. So I simply shrug, avoiding the question. Desperately trying to change the subject.

“So this new book I’m reading…”

“Oh c’mon.” He interrupts me. “I know you have something to say. And I trust your advice more than anyone else. There isn’t anyone else I would rather talk to about this.” His eyes softened as he looked towards me. Instead of melting under his gaze like I normally do, red bites at the edge of my vision.

“I think you should leave her the hel alone.” My tone is not gentle. He freezes.

“What?”

“She has a mate already. And regardless of if you think the cauldron got it right. Lucien is the one mated to Elain,” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “And Lucien is a wonderful male who has been through a lot of shit. He deserves someone as sweet as Elain, if she ever comes around. You should stop meddling.”

His mouth opens, when no words come out, he closes it again. You see the muscles in his jaw tick as he clenches his teeth.

“What has gotten into you? When did you become Lucien’s spokesperson?” He spits at me. His face starts to get closer to mine as he leans over the table, slowly starting to rise to his feet.

The sane part of me is telling me to stand down. That one of the most powerful warriors in all of Prythian was starting to get angry at me. My mate was starting to get mad at me. But I would not cave under his intimidation.

“I became his spokesperson when you showed no respect for him. Or for Elain.” I noticed I was starting to get to my feet. “What about what she wants? She doesn’t owe you anything more than she owes Lucien. Rhys told you to stay away from a girl you feel entitled to and now you want to mope like a petulant teenager. Grow up Azriel.” He flinches before something stoney sets in his eyes.

“At least I’ve actually told her how I felt. What about you?” My stomach drops into my knees. “Sitting and pining over the same person for a century.”

“You knew?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper. This was not happening. I should have left when I had the chance.

“It’s not like you tried to hide it. I thought at some point you would get the hint that it wasn’t going to happen but yet there you always were trailing behind me like a sad little puppy.”

My hands on the table started to glow faintly. My anger was finally breaking through the surface.

“You asshole. You stupid Illyrian bastard.” The smirk that graced his face fell instantly. “After everything that I’ve done for you, you want to use my feelings for you as some fucking weapon against me.”

Even I was surprised at the venom in my words but I was on a roll. “I sat by for five hundred years. I sat by as you pined over Mor, someone I consider my sister. I felt that bond go unreturned.” He completely froze at my words. Words I have never spoken out loud to anyone.

“Wait-“

“No. You get to hear this shadowslinger.” I pressed my finger to his chest and he stepped back like I had hit him. A small part of me wishes I had. But this. This right here is why Rhys kept me around. I didn’t need to throw a punch to put someone on their knees.

“I followed you around like a lost puppy and you loved it. Every second of it. I was stupid enough at some point to believe that it was because you felt it too. And I couldn’t get away from those feelings,could get away from you. Every time I tried I would damn near drive myself crazy and then you would smile or say some funny joke and I was right back to where I started.” I willed the slight shake in my voice to disappear. “You just wanted to feel important because the one you truly loved wouldn’t have even entertained the thought. Took other males into her bed, but not you right? So why not go for the next available thing. Me. Who cares if I got hurt? Who cares that I still fucking loved you through all of it? Not you clearly. You played me like a fucking fiddle and I played my part well.”

When I finally looked back up at his face I saw nothing but a shell of the male that stood in front of me. Even his shadows had retreated from his side. Looking down I realized they were sitting at my feet. I pushed down the glimmer of something I didn’t have time to think about at the sight.

“Please. Just stop.” He pleaded.

“Why? Because it hurts to hear? Fuck you. “And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I watched him pale. “You didn’t think it killed me to feel that empty weight in my chest every time I looked at you. Everyday that I waited and wished that you would feel that stupid bond I’ve had to live with for the last two centuries.”

He gasped at my words cutting me off

“You never told me about that. I just thought it was… I don’t know… I thought it was a crush like how I felt with Mor”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I shouldn’t have had to! The whole point is that you feel it too. Bonds aren’t supposed to be one sided but for some gods unknown reason, you didn’t,” I felt the anger really starting to boil over.

“Every time I heard you rambling on and on about how perfect Mor was, about the females you took into your bed. I sat by all of it, for what? Three sisters for three brothers?!” I was screaming now, my hands shaking by my side

“What happens when she’s all fixed up too Azriel? When she feels this same thing I feel when she looks at Lucien. Onto the next one for me to hear about I guess . Always on the sidelines. Always the sweet face to come back to at the end of the day but never the one you want to be with.” I took a deep breath for the words about to come out of my mouth, steeling my nerves.

“I’m done. With this. With you. Fuck this entire gods damned city. I will not sit by and play second to whoever you deem worthy enough for the rest of my life.”

He held up his hand like he was going to reach up for me but the light that was glowing off my skin was warning enough.

“Where will you go?” Was all he had the nerve to say.

I let out a cold, twisted laugh. “Anywhere but here. Hel I could finally go home. Helion has

been asking me to come back for years now. All I know it will be somewhere where you can’t come and ruin another half a century of my life. Because that’s what you did. I wasted all this time on someone I knew wouldn’t love me. But I can agree with you on something, Azriel.” I paused long enough to see the hope in his eyes as he whispered “what?”

“That sometimes the cauldron does get it wrong.”

I walked out of that room with my head held high

#acomaf #acosf #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar #acowar #azriel angst #azriels kinda dick in this one #I promise I love him but this popped into my head #azriel x reader #azriel x you #no happy ending #a court of thorns and roses #i make no apologies #well maybe a little

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c-e-d-dreamer · 2 days

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Nesta truly deserves the best kind of self-care to celebrate @nestaarcheronweek aka a stack of romance novels and no one bothering her!

Cannot thank @/brunagarretart enough for bringing this gorgeous art to life! Obsessed with all the details including Nesta's soft expression, the book titles, and, of course, her shoulder freckles. 😍

Please do not repost without credit and don't feed into AI programs.

#nestaweek2024 #nesta archeron #acotar #acosf

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purple-writer8 · 2 days

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Suburban Legends - ACOTAR

Azriel x Winter Court Reader

“When you hold me, it holds me together.”

warnings: unrequited love, pining, evil thoughts, intrusive thoughts, lesser fae thinks shes not enough, hating on girl, self doubt, self loathing, reader is a handful, ice powers, groping, lesser fae slander

1.7k words

Part Two to Heather

Masterlist :)

He kissed you. Azriel kissed you. And then you winnowed away, because he kissed you in a way that you knew would screw you up forever. Because Azriel could never love you. You were not soft like Elain, were not some soft baker with beautiful High Fae features.

No. You were just a winterling. A lesser fae that iced everything around her. You paced the House of Wind, paced and paced through the entire manor— scared out of your mind of seeing Azriel again. Why would he kiss you?

Your mind raced and raced and raced.

Azriel deserved someone better than you, he deserved Elain. Not some winterling that got jealous because of a sweater, jealous and you two weren’t even together. Oh, you were so embarrassed— you wanted to die. You got a quick snack in the kitchen, thanking the house for it, and then you rushed up to your room.

Cauldron, you would die of embarrassment if you saw Azriel.

The way that he kissed you, it killed you, because you knew that you were doomed. How were you supposed to live now that you had tasted him? He had kissed you out of pity, you were sure. Or maybe he just didn’t know what to do.

As you ate your chips and dip, you noticed a shadow slithering underneath your door. You ignored it. He probably just wanted to know if you were freaking out or something.

You heard footsteps outside your door and froze when they stopped in front of it. You whispered a curse when your plate with your snack turned to ice, you really had to start controlling your powers.

A knock sounded against the wood of your door, and you wanted to die. You could feel the ice appearing through your body, invading your skin as it did whenever you were in distress— a winterling defense mechanism. You remained silent, unmoving, and after not answering the door for minutes, the shadow and it’s singer left— footsteps disappearing down the hall.

You were tempted to run out of your room and go after him but you were never going to do that. You would die of embarrassment if Azriel simply rejected you, telling you that he only kissed you because he felt bad.

Azriel knocked on your door every night for an entire week, maybe to reject you, or maybe to send you on a mission. You were not sure, but you had barricaded yourself in your room. If you were needed for a mission, Rhysand would reach you, you were sure. Your room had turned into a winter wonderland, your anxiety making your ice powers almost uncontrollable— and frankly unbearable. You were sure you had frost bite by now.

A knock sounded to your door, and instantly you turned to it, watching for the shadow that would always check on you when Azriel came. But no shadow appeared. “Darling? It’s me.”

Surely you could die from embarrassment when you heard the High Lord outside your door. You whimpered when more ice manifested from your fingertips, it fucking hurt and you were sure your fingers could be thawed off your hands any moment now.

Dark majestic talons caressed your mind, and you were tempted to let them in— but instead reinforced the walls that kept Rhysand out, because how fucking embarrassing is it to let your High Lord see how you’ve iced your entire room just because a guy doesn’t want you.

You are supposed to be better than that. But you weren’t.

“Open the door,” the High Lord ordered, and you complied.

His violet eyes widened when he took in the state of your room. “I… What… I… Ice.” Was all he managed to say as he stepped into the room, shivering as the cold hit him.

You smiled awkwardly, unnaturally, “hey.”

“So when Cassian said you turned his room into ice… he meant this?” Rhysand asked and you nodded, awkwardly shifting your weight on your feet. His eyes took in your form and you almost covered your face, but you didn’t. Because the one person who knew all your flaws and ugliness was your High Lord, and he accepted you that way.

It wasn’t a pretty sight when you lost control. As a winterling lesser, the powers that you had were all ice ones. You could wield ice from your fingertips, and when distress happened upon your body— ice bloomed through your flesh, because your blood turned cold. You weren’t good at controlling them; so when anxiety hit you, your veins turned black and you froze everything around you.

Every vein in your body was noticeable, your eyes were white, and you were covered in ice.

Rhysand was probably disgusted by you.

“Azriel says you’ve been cooped up here since game night. Says you won’t open the door for him.” Rhysand stated as he looked around your room, blinking slowly as he took in all of your belongings being frozen.

“For him. But I opened the door for you,” you answered sheepishly.

“He let me know what happened… that night when he went to get you outside… I…” You put your hand up when he said those words.

“I know. I know. He doesn’t like me. I was stupid to complain about a sweater. I mean, my audacity, right?” You laughed dryly. Rhysand frowned, eyeing you— then eyeing your room.

With a snap of his fingers, your room was back to normal. “We’re going out to Rita’s tonight, join us,” Rhysand stated simply, and you were about to decline, but his stern gaze told you that it was a command— not a suggestion.

“I would much rather stay in,” you try anyways. Rhysand shakes his head. “So you could drown in ice and self pity? Get a grip, darling.”

You don’t admit that it hurts. It was not self pity, it was self hate, loathing. You ultimately nod, because you know he is not gonna let you just wallow in your sadness even though it’s all that you want. “Talk to him,” Rhysand said before winnowing away.

You scoffed at nothing. Absolutely not. If he rejected you, which you were sure he would, it would cause you more self hate than you could ever deal with.

You got ready that night in your usual attire. Glittering gowns with diamonds that resembled little snowflakes, reminiscent of your origins. You would look at the clock as you did your hair, and when ten pm rolled around and Azriel did not knock like every other night that week— your whole life was ruined.

At eleven you called for Rhysand in your mind so he could take you down to Rita’s and that he did, though the flight was silent. You were not very fond of him ordering you to hang out when you were miserable.

At Rita’s, you wanted to die.

Azriel was there, sitting silently next to Elain. And instantly your evil mind was hoping she got poisoned by the cocktail she was gently and elegantly sipping.

You truly were unlovable and unlikeable, huh?

You could feel those hazel eyes on you, though no shadows came to greet you. You did not dare meet his gaze because you were sure you would hurl ice all over the floor, so you rushed to find your High Lady and Mor who were chatting by the bar.

They greeted you happily, chatting you up over things you could care less about— because how could you focus when you could see everyone fawning over the shadowsinger in your peripheral vision. He was so magnetic to every fae that it was almost obnoxious.

Feyre started talking about the mating bond with Mor, indulging her in a debate about whether all mates were meant to be. All you could do was fantasize about you and Azriel, mismatched as you may be, surprising the whole court by being mates.

A fae can dream.

A male appeared out of the blue— a handsome male— and he asked you to dance. You indulged him. It was better than standing there pretending to care about Feyre and Mor’s conversation. You loved them, but your mind was elsewhere.

The male danced to the music, swaying along with you, his eyes focused on your white ones. “Shit… I can imagine you sucking my cock with those looking up at me… a perfect lesser fuck,” you gasped at his lewd words because, what the fuck?!

Your heart thudded and you smelled danger, so you gave him an awkward smile and stepped back from him, only for him to snake one strong arm around your waist, tugging you close. “I-Uh, have to go,” you chuckled nervously, looking around for your friends, though the sea of people dancing made it near impossible for you to see their usual booth.

“What does a little lesser like you have to do that is better than being with me?” He asked, leaning down to your ear, an act that sent shivers down your spine. Fear. Which was stupid because you were a spy for the Night Court, you could handle him.

Before you could even snap at him, his hand groped your behind, causing you to gasp and push him away— but in that moment he was stronger, so he tugged you right back to his bulky body. “Who do you think you are?” You scoffed at him, a snarl on your face.

“I’m taking you home tonight, lesser.”

“Over my dead body.” The man stumbled backwards as he looked over your shoulder, to the shadowsinger that had appeared between the crowd. Every fae in the room turned to look at Azriel, at the icy rage that surfaced on his perfect face. He parted the crowd as he stood there, his wings tucked tight as he glared at the High Fae that had been harassing you.

A comforting shadow slinked to you, wrapping around your icy wrist gently. Its gentleness was a stark contrast to the sheer anger it’s master exuded from his being.

“Fuck… I didn’t know… didn’t know she was yours, shadowsinger.”

“Now you know not to fucking touch my mate.”

Author’s Note:

this definitely needs a part three i know

General Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @sheblogs

Series Taglist: @illiicits @dee-writes-smut @going-through-shit @saltedcoffeescotch @evergreenlark

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high-queen-feyre · 3 days

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@lorcandidlucienwill one last angst for the road...

Who took care of Eris' hounds while he was UtM? They they know what was happening? That their dad was trapped?

They refused to eat from the workers hands, since Eris fed them himself or took them out hunting.

A few months pass and no Eris...

They bark and growl all night and day, almost asking "Where did you go?"

A few more months later the growls turn into whines

Multiple years pass and the hounds collectively agree that Eris abandoned them.

The older ones go out to hunt while the younger still stay in the first house. They take care of themselves while Eris is trying his hardest to break free so he can go home to them.

It takes half a century, for Eris to be free, and the first thing he does is winnow in the forest house, calling to his pup, preparing himself for the worst.

One after another they come out of hiding, tackling him to the ground, licking all over his face while he laughs for the first time in 50 years.

His hound snuggle up around him, in his warmth, cause Eris didn't abandon them.

#acotar #acowar #acosf #pro eris vanserra #eris headcanons #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris acosf

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nessiandaily · 2 days

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Lady Death🖤 by langevel.studio [instagram]

#nesta archeron #art #acosf #acotar #a court of silver flames #mypost

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the-valkyries-gwyn-nesta-emerie · 2 days

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“Azriel slaughtered all of them within moments. He didn’t hesitate. But I could barely move, and when I tried to get up … He gave me his cloak and wrapped me in it."

Art is by Kloartz

I love how the artist captured this scene. It is heart-wrenchingly beautiful.

And I'm not going to romantize this scene but the fact it's a direct parallel to Lucien giving Elain his cloak after her traumatic event speaks volumes to me.

These two are endgame. No doubt in my mind about that.

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #acosf #he slaughtered all the soldiers within moments #azriel and gwyn #gwyn and azriel #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #a court of silver flames #acotar series #acotar #gwynriel fanart #acotar fan art #acotar fanart

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selinaoceann · 1 day

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#acotar #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #vassa acotar #jurian acotar #jassa #elain archeron #elucien #acowar #acomaf #acofas #acosf

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simmanin · 1 day

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you wouldnt last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

(happy wednesday!)

#pro elucien #pro elain archeron #pro lucien vanserra #acotar #acowar #elucien #the half step heard across the world #pro gwynriel #pro gwyneth berdara #pro azriel acotar #whos afraid of little old me #sjm #sarah j maas #acosf #acotar mates

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dustjacketdraws · 1 day

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@nestaarcheronweek for day 4: lover

I wasn't intending to make them vampires, but it just fit

Edit: click on the image for better quality, I'll figure this out one day

#trying to limit my color palette status failed #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #nestaweek2024 #fanart #dustjacketdraws #acotar #acosf

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podemechamardek · 2 days

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@nestaarcheronweek | Day Three: Self-Care

For today I wanted an illustration that shows Nesta doing something that makes her feel like herself and at the same time sharing that part of herself with those she loves and who love her in return.

Jessica is really sweet and was able to do this soft illustration of Nesta dancing with Nyx and I’m so grateful for that. I hope we get to see more moments of Nyx with his favorite aunt (Nesta, obviously) in the next books.

Art by: Jéssica Brasil (jessi.brasilart)

Commissioned by: @podemechamardek

🚫 Please do not repost.

#nestaweek2024 #nesta archeron #nyx archeron #nestha archeron #nesta #nessian #a court of silver flames #acosf #acourtofthornsandroses #acotar #art #art commission: acotar

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pit-and-the-pen · 2 days

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Azriel NSFW alphabet

Literally just Azriel brain rot. Buckle in

NSFW below the cut (18+ minors don’t interact)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I’m a firm believer that this man is the biggest cuddler after sex. He will fully wrap you in his arms and wings and just hold you close to him. He’ll give you sweet kisses on your forehead and the top of your head, humming as he does.

If anything is particularly rough (Which I am a firm believer in dom Azriel) he’ll draw you a bath and smooth out any sore muscles with his hands.

Basically this dude knows what it’s like to be left alone and would rather die than make you feel like that after being intimate

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On him, like any good Iilyrian baby, it’s his wings. Besides the normal ego the wings normally come with, he’s able to look at them and see all the good they’ve done. Proof of how far he’s come in life. He’d learn how to fly, become one of the top Iilyrian warriors and had an amazing family. Looking at his wings, the same wings he shares with his brothers, he can’t help but feel his pride stir.

On you, everyone always goes back and forth on boobs or ass but are missing the best option. Thighs. Azriel adores your thighs. Something about the soft feeling of them under his hands instantly comforts him. And not only in a sexual way (although he has pushed your thighs tighter around his head on multiple occasions) but comforting like a cat kneading on a blanket. He loves using them as a pillow, you playing with his hair as you talk about your different days or you both reading a book. He loves your thighs no matter the size, the stretch marks, he loves every inch of them

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I feel like all the fae males cum a ton. Probably left over from centuries of breeding being the most important thing, but Azriel takes the cake. For sake of not having to find something to clean up the sheer amount, he’s almost always coming inside of you. And even then it’s still enough that it runs out of you, something that normally is enough to make you both want round two.

I also feel like if he’s in one of his more dominant moods that once he does cum inside you he’ll use his finger to push it back in, mouth parted as he sees just the sheer amount that pools onto the sheets

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I feel like you and Azriel would be pretty open with each other. He doesn’t want to hide things from you and he wouldn’t want you too either

That being said, I do think he likes you being dominant more than he would ever let you know. The way the tone of your voice drops slightly, the way you tease him is enough to drive him crazy. You always seem to know when he needs it too. There's not one particular thing he could point out to say he loved but you doming him is something he enjoys a lot when it happens.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This man is quiet but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t had plenty of experience. I mean, look at this man. Tell me you wouldn’t have to fight off both males and females when the mating bond first snapped. This man fully knows what he’s doing and I firmly believe his spymaster skills make him perfect at learning exactly what you need to make you into a complete whining mess.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves when you ride him. Something about feeling your thighs spread out on top of him and having full access to your chest and throat just does something for him.

I also live and die by Azriel having a breeding kink so I think he would love having you in a mating press. Your legs perched up on his shoulders as he presses so deep into you you can’t do anything but scream his name. He would still be free to pepper kisses all over your neck and face and he can feel how deep his cum is pumped into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He is pretty serious overall. It’s that dom persona but sometimes when you try a new position or play and something twists the way it's not supposed to or your bodies just make the noises bodies do, you’re both laughing and giggling. On slower nights you two can make jokes but overall it’s pretty serious because the love you two have for each other runs so deeply.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think he keeps it trimmed. He defo has a happy trail that you love to kiss down. But he doesn’t really care about what’s going on down there, especially when it comes to you. As long as he can get between your legs, he doesn’t care how much or how little hair you have. And I think his hair is a little lighter but not by much.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Azriel can be tooth rotting sweet when he wants to be. I’m talking rose petals and candles, full body massage. He would pull out all the stops when it comes to spoiling you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he’s away on missions he would try. Some errant thought of you would cross his mind and since he has a hard time sleeping on missions, he would try to rub one out but it never feels the same so he doesn’t really bother with it. He has you and you’re more than happy to help him whenever he has one of his random moments of need rushing through him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Restrains- He loves holding your wrists down, whether it’s with his own hands wrapped around your wrists pinned above you heads, or his shadows holding down all of your limbs as he absolutely worships your body, something about seeing you desperately trying to reach out and touch him makes him go feral.

Wing Play- At first you both were very tentative for you to touch his wings. He’s so proud of them and despite the fact that you’re mates, it felt too intimate. But after much begging on his part, you finally did and gods. His usual perfect timing was fully broken the first time. He came in his pants like a teenager and spent the rest of the night absolutely worshiping you. From then on, if you ever wanted to have him on his knees, you would just run a nail softly along the membranes and he would be a whimpering mess for you.

Brat Tamer- This male would love it when you talk back to him. The way you would puff up your chest, staring up at him trying your best to be intimidating. He would just coo at you and whisper something about keeping up that attitude later in the bedroom. And of course the moment the door closed to your shared bedroom, you would be apologizing for your words. Maybe if he’s feeling nice, he’ll let you off but if he’s not. You would definitely be limping around the next day.

Breeding kink- He would love to fill you up. As much as he adores seeing his cum on various parts of your body. Theres nothing he loves more than seeing it drip out of you, fucking it back into you with his fingers or his tongue.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers your bedroom truthfully. The two of you have made it so comfortable, bits and pieces of the both of you filled the space. The way your smell mixed with his lingers around puts him instantly at ease.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

For real, you could just look at this man and he would be hard as a rock. Seeing you sparing with Cassian would also be a sure fire way to get him going. Or if you are trying to get him really riled up, placing your hand on someones arm as you’re talking to them would have him literally picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder to remind you exactly who you belong to.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No temperature play of any kind, no ice or fire. Fire/wax for obvious reasons but cold/ ice because it reminds him of the winters at the war camp and those memories are not something he wants to imagine when he’s having sex.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man will eat you out like he has been stranded in the desert for a hundred years. He cannot get enough of you. He’ll hold down your hips, shadows holding your arms down. Absolute filthy noises would be spilling out of his mouth as he lapped you up. You would literally have to pull him away by his hair and his face would be covered in your arousal. He could go down on you for hours if you would let him and he would still probably whine as you pulled him away.

That being said, this man does love a good blow job. I think he would have two moods. One where he’s just letting you explore, tongue lapping at him and he’d let you set your own pace. Just taking everything you would give him. Now. On nights where you have done nothing but tease him. Strap in because this man will (consensually) push you down to your knees with your hands tied behind you back and use your throat like it was a damn fleshlight. He would keep going until spit was trailing down your chin, eyes glassy with tears. When he finally did cum he would make you hold it on your tongue before telling you to swallow, sticking out your tongue afterwards to show him that you were a good girl and listened to him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This man is the best of both worlds. Depending on both of your moods it can be soft and slow or wall shakingly rough. Sometimes he’ll being going slow and you’ll push his hips to make him pound into you and the little bit of control he’ll have snaps and before you know it, he’s flipping you over and fucking you hard enough to have you seeing stars. But on nights when both of you need to show your love to each other, he’s simply just grinding into you. Hitting that perfect spot inside of you and I love you’s are spilling past both of your lips unhurried.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not totally against them. When the mating bond first snapped all you had to do was look at him the right way and he was taking you against the nearest surface. More than once during trips to the court of nightmares you two were found tucked away into corners, both in various states of undress. His shadows were particularly helpful during these moments because he could wrap you in them and make sure no one saw that the front of your dress was pulled down or how your skirt was hiked up to your waist. But for the most part, he likes taking his time with you. He wants the time to take you apart piece by piece and have you screaming and shaking beneath him.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

SJM told us this man was a freak and I firmly believe it. There’s very few things that he isn’t willing to try at least once. If he thinks it will make you happy then he’s game.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man could go all night if you would let him. Your stamina would give out long before he would. And he’s almost always making sure that you get off at least once but we all know there would be many many more before he would even think about his own release.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I have no idea what toys exist in this world but lets pretend the ones that exist in Crescent City are available. I think he would for sure have a vibrator. More than once he has had you tied up in your bed, vibrator strapped to your thigh and just stood at the other end of the room. You would be half delirious with the amount of orgasms the toy had pulled from you before he turned it off with a smirk at how totally fucked out you were.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man is the biggest tease. He knows how much you love his muscles so he would just walk around the house shirtless. Commenting on how your eyes followed him like he was a snack you wanted to devour. He would tease you for that glazed look in your eyes and how your pupils would dilate. If anyone was ever around when this happened you would blush as he slowly raised a hand to shut your slightly open jaw. Laughing softly as everyone else started to slowly leave the room because they knew what was about to happen.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Listen. For how quiet this man is around the inner circle, he would be moaning and panting into your ear. His dirty talk alone is enough to reduce you to a shaking mess. But when he’s pounding into you he’ll be cursing and roaring against you. More than once you’ve had someone pounding on the door because of how loud the two of you were being. He would only make it a point to be even louder when that did happen and when the two of you finally crawled out of your bedroom, the house would be empty.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Azriel was terrified the first time you two had sex. It’s no secret that he’s insecure when it comes to his hands and he was afraid that you would be wary to have him finger you but that fear was quickly dismissed when you begged for his fingers. Now whenever he seems to get too far into his head, all you have to do is slip one of his giant fingers into your mouth and he would snap out whatever funk he was in and he would go absolutely feral. You made the mistake of doing it at dinner with the rest of the inner circle once and everyone just stared at you two with wide eyes as Azriel just sat back further into his chair, legs spreading as he smirked with pure male satisfaction.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Our shadowslinger is hung. I think he’s at least 8 inches but he’s also thick. Like if you wrap your hand around him, your fingers just barely touch. The illyrian joke about wings is definitely true and he’s the biggest of the three males. The rest of the girls nearly fell out of their chairs when they held their hands out trying to get you to spill just how big he was. All three sisters and Mor are just sitting there like 🫸 🫷“What do you mean , keep going??? Girl are you okay???”

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mother. This man’s sex drive is ridiculous. Despite having many partners over the years, there was a lot of time between then and he never let them be truly intimate, opting for quick fucks that were satisfying on the surface level for sure but he desperately yearned for real intimacy. So once he found you he couldn’t get enough of you and you him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll always wait for you to fall asleep. And you normally fall asleep pretty quickly after he’s rung orgasm after orgasm out of you. Some nights we would just stare at you as you slept soundly besides him, wondering how he got so lucky to have you next to him.

#acomaf #acosf #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar #acowar #azriel smut #azriel nswf #this is just self indulgent at this point #i need him biblically #i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism #azriel shadowsinger smut #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #azriel

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c-e-d-dreamer · 1 day

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Sometimes, when Nesta stays out too late at Rita's with the Valkyries, when she stays up too late reading in the library, Cassian carries her back to their bed all soft and sweet 😌

A very happy Day Four of @nestaarcheronweek! And a very very big thanks to @maybemacdc for working with me on this absolutely beautiful and tender commission 🥺 Please do not repost without credit and don't feed into AI programs.

#nestaweek2024 #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acosf #nesta x cassian

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emmitaaa4 · 3 days

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look me in the eyes and tell me this isnt cassian with azriel.

thats right you cant.

#azriel #cassian #bat boys #acotar #incorrect acotar quotes #acotar memes #azriel acotar #cassian acotar #azriel x cassian #acosf #sjm #sjmaas #a court #a court of thorns and roses

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thesunloveschips · 3 days

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Eye of the Storm - Chapter 10: An Unfamiliar World

Summary: Nyra is one of the older Archeron sisters. Twin to Nesta. Plagued by a mysterious illness that her mortal body cannot endure for too long. And yet, it seems her curse is to see her family suffer. When the youngest of her sisters is whisked away into the land of fae, immortality soon follows for the rest of them. And as an immortal, there is more to her that she has yet to know.

Chapter Summary: Nyra tries to recall her memories from the Cauldron which includes the silhouettes of unfamiliar people. Rhys's sister makes an appearance. Nyra confronts Nesta. Shadows are supportive little darlings.

A/N: I am immensely thankful to @stormhearty. Your friendship is something precious for the real me who is a slightly crazy woman who loves food and fictional men. Thank you for helping me with this chapter. I will continue to fangirl over characters from books and manhwa with you.

Click here to access the Masterlist of the Eye of the Storm

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Nyra's POV

Approximately an hour was left for dinner. I was still sitting by the window in Elain's bedroom. Nesta was sitting on the armchair across me and the occupant of the room was still unconscious.

None of us were talking but I could hear the Cauldron cry as if it was in the same room. Its cries and pleas which I did not want to hear. Not after what it did to my sisters. I closed my eyes and remembered it.

It was cold and lonely in this place. The sensation on my body made it seem like I was floating. And then there was a rip. Pain shot through me. Pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I could not move. Could not open my eyes to see what was going on. It started from my head, from between the eyes. And then it was there, on my chest. I felt like something was being taken from me and that my body was desperately clinging on to it.

It was exhausting. I don’t even know if I was crying. And then pain vanished. I was someplace warm now. I opened my eyes and saw the darkness around me. I was a silhouette of light. Underneath me, a body floated. My body. My weak, mortal body. I was still connected to it. A single glowing string continued to connect me.

And then there were whispers behind me. I turned around and saw other silhouettes. There were many. Each of them were standing at a different distances from me. All of them with glowing eyes. They were different in appearance—different heights, build, sex, skin colour, hair colour, clothing and so much and yet, the only thing that was common was the glowing eyes. I noticed that only one of them did not have glowing eyes. In fact, her eyes were closed. She was the one standing closest to me. A young girl with large bat-like wings.

My entire being felt a pull. I looked around trying to identify the source. It was that string connecting me to my body that floated in the abyss. I looked behind at the figures and found them facing me. Even the young girl with closed eyes. Everyone except the girl lifted their hands and a string flowed out from their palms towards me. With a bundle of strings in my hands, I let them go. The strings floated around me. I waved my hands and with knowledge I did not know I possessed, I manipulated the strings.

They weaved themselves under my guidance into something. A string from my own palm emerged and joined the creation. Whatever that was finally created, came to rest in my arms and I held it. I looked at the body below me and dropped the thing on it.

I had created a body which was merging with the mortal one that floated. The golden body and my own body were merging. I felt more strings from those behind me and I pushed them towards the merging bodies. Something happened. It seemed to help with the merger. And the final product was complete. I looked behind at the figures and they were looking at me, not with glowing eyes but with their own eyes. Approval, happiness, determination, pride—many emotions floated in their eyes. All of them giving me the nod to do something.

I looked at the girl whose eyes were still closed but this time, her lips were parted. And her young voice spoke. “You were poisoned.” I froze.

Another voice from behind her spoke. “You fought well.” It was a woman—tall and larger than women. Easily six feet.

The girl spoke again, her voice pained. “He has been waiting for so long.” And her hand darted forward to push me towards the new body that had been created.

Something stopped me from reaching my body. Some creatures. Many creatures of different shapes and sizes. They were blocking my path. I had to go. The pull was getting stronger. I closed my eyes and the next thing I knew, I was moving—fighting. Like a warrior with practised ease and strength, I was destroying the demons surrounding me.

A familiar presence was nearby. I looked around and felt the gaze of a predator. A familiar presence. I walked closer and identified that to be the one whom I shared a womb in this life. A sibling. What was their name? Was it a girl or a boy? Either way, they shouldn’t be in this place. I raised my hand when I got close enough and pushed them away. Their presence completely vanished and I was left alone with the figures around me.

My fight continued. I won. I walked over to the body waiting for me like a vessel to fill it. A pained cry caught my attention.

“Please.” It begged. And some stupid part of me walked over and helped it. It was wounded and I healed it. “I am forever in your debt.” We talked a lot and then I walked back and felt my essence enter the body.

Once I had entered the body, I looked around. There was no light, no screams, nothing. Just pure darkness. I lifted my hands and checked them. I was glowing. Energy crackled around me. Something glowed from above me. I looked up and saw a bright thread, the only source of light in this darkness. An identical thread sprouted from my chest and ascended to meet it. I watched as the two thread merge into one, as though they were never separated. And then something grabbed my wrists. It coiled around them like a rope and pulled me upwards.

The next thing I knew, I was exiting the Cauldron. People around me were screaming my name. What was it? I could not even see anything clearly. Wisps of darkness and water blurred my vision to the maximum. Something cool and comfortable was all over me. Some energy. It helped me walk and led me to the source of the shining thread. And then they laid me down and I fell a wave of comfort and relief. And I fell asleep.

There was much more to all of this than what I could comprehend right now. That girl and all the figures lined up behind her. This silence in Elain’s bedroom was too loud. I wanted to scream and run and vomit and do so much, all at the same time. The beast within me was my own self. My real self. My power. At present, she was tame; like a cat curled up for a nap. But the cat was starting to get irritated. It was on the verge of transforming into another feline creature of greater size and power should it be provoked for too long. The only thing calming my inner self was the night sky. The stars were a calming sight.

But why did I feel like this? Like a part of me was absent. And the emptiness was seeping into the rest of me. A desperate feeling of yearning was there. For what? For who? Why? To be yearning so much to the point where it was starting to frustrate me—whose absence was affecting me so? I knew it wasn't father. I did not interact with the man who had been so absent from our lives. During our childhood when we were wealthy, it was a physical absence. During our teenage years when we were poor, it was an emotional absence. When Feyre was taken and we mysteriously became rich, the physical and emotional absence became far too much that I did not bother. We talked only when it was required. With him entrusting the keys of the house to me because he was too afraid to face Nesta, who was the healthier twin.

Was it for Feyre, who had been taken from us only to return as a completely different person? I did not even recognise the girl who came back the first time. A girl with life breathed into her only to tell us about the man she fell in love with. She left to save him. And then she returned as a fae. A broken shell of the woman she had become previously. Her subsequent visits showed improvement but I did not recognise her even then. She was no longer the woman who was our sister. She was free and powerful and independent and that was good for her but my sister had died and a new woman had taken her place. Feyre was no longer our sister in many aspects. And yet she was. But I had this powerful feeling that she would not have come to us after becoming fae if it weren't for the mortal queens and the Book of Breathings.

From what Nesta told me, Elain had begged not to be drowned in the Cauldron and yet she had been the first one to be Made. The woman who went in crying and the woman who returned were two different beings. And now, she was lifeless. The only semblance of who she was could be found in the open curtains. I looked at the sleeping sister. She was pale and thin and the bones of her hand, cheek and neck were too prominent.

Nesta, who had kicked and screamed, before being thrown into the Cauldron. How did she emerge? She hadn’t told me anything. But the woman who was sitting in front of me was withdrawn. She was no longer the panther who waited in the dark before striking. She was a cat who had retired to sleep. Nesta’s claws were no longer sharp.

Then for whom was I feeling so much? This burning sensation. I think I would've cried if I hadn't averted my eyes to look at the sea. Even in the darkness, I could identify where it was after having looked at for so long during the day. So much love, it made me feel like I was bundled up in a velvety blanket. But the other emotions made me feel like the blanket would be ripped away from my body and I would have to wake up to a horrible world.

Nesta's movement began to distract me from my own inner turmoil. She had stood up, walked towards the door, opened it and peeped outside to see if anyone was there and then closed it again. She came back but did not sit down. "We ought to get ready for dinner."

"I suppose we should." I stood up and then looked at Elain. We did not speak because we did not know what to speak of. We walked over to the door connecting Elain's room with Nesta's and entered and closed the door behind us.

"Your room is ahead." Nesta pointed towards the door straight ahead.

"What do you feel about all of this?" I turned to the window. I knew that Nesta required space before she could answer difficult questions. Not looking at her meant that she would feel less pressurised and that she would have more clarity of thought.

Nesta looked outside the window. "We are in an unfamiliar world. I do not mind it much. I do not have a marriage waiting for me. But…"

"You worry for father?" I wanted to know what she felt for him. She did not despise him as much as she tried to pretend. And she would always leave the room whenever I tried to confront her about it, knowing my sick body couldn't follow her. But now I could. And it seemed like she was realising that bit too.

Nesta scoffed. "The man could barely pick himself up even when Feyre went out to hunt. You were sick. We needed the money for your medicines."

"What about you and Elain? What were the two of you doing?" This was it. This was everything. Our lives had revolved around this for so long. Feyre had continuously begged me not to confront Nesta or Elain about this and I truly found her foolish for that. Her kindness had been extended to undeserving people.

"We could never send Elain out. She…"

"Then what about you?" I asked softly. I did not have the patience to shout at her and she was no longer poised to strike. So would she answer me? "Feyre was just a child."

"I know you would've gone out." Nesta's voice was a mere whisper. "You would've done anything and everything for all of us. You're like Feyre in that aspect."

"I think I would have." I spoke. The salty scent of her tears spread around the room. "Do not try to deflect, Nesta."

I knew how much Nesta hated that cottage. That bed where mother had birthed us and died. Everything around us was a reminder of the weakness we carried within ourselves.

"And that trait of yours made you push me out of the Cauldron." Nesta looked at me, vision blurred by tears.

"What were you doing, Nesta?" I had to be more firm with her. I was rarely firm with any of them. That had costed us too much. And whenever I was, I snapped too badly.

"I was scared!" Nesta's voice rose.

"Scared of the world and in that house, only our father knew how to navigate through it." I added and hummed. "He disappointed you, didn't he? When he did not go out to find work and instead remained… hopelessly hopeful for a miracle." I moved towards the door Nesta had pointed at, the one that would lead to me bedroom and stood by the door. The door knob was a beautiful piece of wood, simple and shaped. "Our mother's lessons never included any survival skills but our father's travels did."

I remembered how Feyre had snuck into our father's office to see the maps and the trinkets he brought back from his travels. How father sat her on his lap and told her stories of the world outside. Nesta was staunchly against that. I simply smiled and encouraged Feyre to listen to father's stories. He would tell her about the different people, cultures, cuisines and adventures he had. And eventually those stories shaped Feyre into becoming the one to step outside their home to be the breadwinner.

"And even now, you love him."

"That's ridiculous." Nesta sneered.

"Why?"

"Because I am my mother's daughter."

"All of us are."

"I am more of her than any of you ever was."

"And what are we?"

"Not hers." Nesta did not say anything more but I understood that this was a partition that would remain in her mind. That Nesta would forever see herself as someone apart from her sisters.

"Is that why you never stepped out? Because our mother would've deemed it beneath her to toil for the family? And you're her daughter?" The words escaped me before I could filter them. I saw Nesta flinch. I knew I had struck well when she reacted and I did not like this. I did not like this conversation. Did not like that she was like this. Nesta would've done anything and everything for Elain and I but for Feyre, what was it?

I remembered all the times when we were young and Feyre used to look up to us. I spun my history lessons into stories and told my own version of it to put the younger ones to sleep while Nesta silently watched even though she pretended to be uninterested. Stories of kings and queens, princes and princesses and adventurers and treasure hoarders. Mythologies were the easiest to tell her.

Feyre learned words easily as she listened to my stories and Nesta's advanced speaking. Maybe that's why mother never realised she did not know how to write and read. And for a long time, I did not. Not until mother had passed. Feyre was friends with Elain in a way she never was with me. Friends who would run around the house together, paint together, garden together. To her I was an older sister, but Elain was a friend more than a sister. But Nesta?

For so long, I'd seen her hopefully look at Nesta for the love and companionship she received from us. She did pick up the fierceness from her but she never knew how to wield it. She learned it all on her own and while I was proud of her for being able to do everything on her own, why was she? Why was she the only one providing for us in a house with two more healthy women? Why was she the only one who could do anything and be useful in a house with two capable women?

I'd fed her false hopes during our childhood that Nesta would come around but I believed them to be true. I'd seen how Feyre, fascinated with the first set of paints, had created something and gift it to Nesta. The first of her creations was a gift to someone who simply took it, said her thanks and retired to her room impassively. Feyre did not know what it was called but she saw Nesta using something to mark the book from where she paused; a bookmark.

I saw Nesta keep that bookmark for years, not even allowing me to touch it. Elain did not know where that bookmark was from. The same went for her drawings. Every little scribble, Nesta kept them guarded in her drawers and never told Feyre. She never scolded Feyre for continuing to draw even when we had limited paper after losing our riches. She simply kept them when Feyre thought they were being burned to feed the fire in the cottage. Nesta was a woman of actions and words so why did she not act?

"We are our own person before we were her daughters." I twisted the doorknob to open the door to my room. The luxurious space greeted me with nothing but unfamiliarity. This was not home. "And you are no longer hers. No longer her daughter. I hope you come to accept it someday." I took a step but my other leg remained where it was. "You must apologise to Feyre for not stepping up. The both of you need to move past that."

I let the door slam behind me and began pacing the room. The fact remained that Nesta and Elain did nothing while father and I were physically incapable of going out. Feyre was the only one who did it. And I did not know why I kept defending both of them in my head. I removed the hair tie and enjoyed the feeling of my hair being free.

What did it mean to be an elder sibling? To step in for the younger ones? If that was the case, Nesta and I had done that many times before mother died. Things changed after that. Even then, I'd seen Nesta actively step in for Elain and in my sickness, for me but Feyre was someone she left behind.

I opened the closet wondering whether I needed to dress for the dinner or whether this gown would be appropriate enough. A silk gown of midnight blue grabbed my attention. I took it from where it hung and admired how it was more soft than the one I currently wore. I closed the door of the wardrobe and took the dress with me to the bathing chamber.

The bathtub sat there like the king in his kingdom. I looked away from it and stared at the mirror in front of me. A woman with incomparable beauty stared back but she was so confused. What good was flawless hair and skin and body when I could no longer identify myself? The woman in the mirror was an unfamiliar face. I was never this beautiful, never this healthy. This was definitely someone else.

This is not home. I wanted to cry at that.

The Cauldron had demanded far too much from me. It had exhausted me before I could leave its clutches. I felt it all over my body and I knew I was close to hyperventilating. I'll never return home. And all that pain. I would have died and yet, here I was.

What was the point of snapping at Nesta? We were here, no longer human. We could never return. And what was there for us in the land of the fae? There is nothing. This is not home. My home with my sisters and father. And when I inadvertently looked in the direction of the bathtub, I saw the Cauldron—black and cruel. I screamed in my head at myself to run away. But my legs, why weren't they moving? The Cauldron seemed to nearing me and I wanted to vanish into the shadows.

And as if my prayers were answered, the shadows emerged from behind like the waves of an ocean. I saw their reflection in the mirror and I crumbled as they embraced me and took me away. It was cold and calm. Only the wind remained for me to hear. I could not process anything but my own cries and tears. Where's my home? I screamed into the shadows and wailed. Tears had blurred my vision but I could see enough to identify that I was someplace dark. I sat down on the cold floor with my knees to my chest.

Home was Nesta's stubbornness, my father's hopes for tomorrow, Elain's smiles and Feyre's wildness. But I was somewhere where I could recognise none of my sisters. My stubborn sister had left everything to the youngest, who in turn lost a part of herself. My happy sister no longer smiled. And what was I?

I don’t know how long I was crying but a hand grabbed my shoulder. It was the only source of warmth. It was a large hand and I looked back. There was no one. I could not see the hand on my shoulder but I could definitely feel it. It was still there. And the shadows retreated and I was on the bathroom floor with a worried Nesta in front of me. She saw me and was saying something. She hugged me and rocked me and I closed my eyes. It was when I could hear my surroundings that I dared to open my eyes. Nesta was crying as she held me.

I moved my hand, took her elbow and tried to remove it away from me. It was a heavy arm and my movement made her release me from my embrace to look at me. Her tears were flowing and she looked so worried. “Are you alright?” She grabbed my cheeks and inspected me. “Did something happen? Talk to me, dear.”

Nesta was never affectionate unless she was worried. And that she definitely was at the moment. “I’m fine.” I whispered.

I escaped her embrace and stood up. I had yet to wash my face and I did just that. I kept on gathering cold water in my hands and splashing it on my face until I felt content. I looked up at the mirror and saw someone who I was starting to recognise. Me. The broken me. I took the towel hanging nearby and dabbed my face with it. I had to change clothes. As I was removing my clothes, I heard her call my name.

"Come to me after you've spoken to Feyre." Nesta knew what I was talking about. I wore the midnight blue gown which exposed my neckline and clung loosely to my figure. My hair was in a bun but with a few stray curls escaping here and there. We stared at each other until I made the move to leave for dinner even though I did not know where it was going to.

I walked ahead. I could hear Nesta behind me but I descended the stairs and heard the noise coming from one of the floors. I followed the voices and halted. I was suddenly reminded of the fact that I will be dining with strangers. Even though I'd met a few of them and dined with the brothers before, that was back in my own home. I saw Feyre and her family and I felt like something was attacking me. Meeting her in-laws was not how I ever expected it to be but when I saw Feyre walking towards me, I realised that I did not recognise her at all. Where the hell was my sister and who was this woman?

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