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highqueenofashandstars · 10 months
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Tumblr is a weird place where you have mutuals and friends you’ve made solely by liking and reblogging each others posts for years, yet have never actually talked before. It’s like we’re all hibernating goblins that come out of our shitholes to shitpost and reblog for five minutes and then disappear back into the void for the next 24 hours to marinate again.
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rainingriversofyou · 5 months
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Starborn, Fireheart & Lady Death - CC, TOG & ACOTAR
Artist: renata_watsonn
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oristian · 1 month
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+ PRYTHIAN’S PRETTIEST COUPLES ,
ART CREDIT — frostbite.studios
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karinagiada · 7 months
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The Queen herself, wreathed in flames. 🔥
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loonylooly · 2 months
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After like, waaay too long, i finally finished prythian fashion the second 🤭
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Hope ya'll like them
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brielyasmin · 2 months
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And suddenly, it's my favorite Acotar Appreciation Week of the year again!
I just wanted to paint a very soft and peaceful moment between Elain and Lucien as a couple ♡ Hope you guys like it as much as I do!
For #ElucienWeek2024 - Day I "Fated"
Characters belong to Sarah J. Maas
find my art.
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inkedinshadows · 1 month
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Nights and Days
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Pairing: Azriel × reader
Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.
Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter
Word count: 6.3k
A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺
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Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.
After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.
They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.
“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.
“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”
He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.
They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”
“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”
His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”
She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”
“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”
She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”
Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”
If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”
Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.
“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”
“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.
Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.
“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”
Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”
Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”
Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”
“So?”
He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?
“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”
Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.
Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.
She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”
He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”
She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”
“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”
“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”
Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.
“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”
She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”
Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.
“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.
“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”
“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”
“It matters to me.”
His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.
“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.
“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”
This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”
And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.
“Sleep on the bed. With me.”
Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”
“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.
Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”
She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?
“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”
“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”
She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”
The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”
“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?
“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.
“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”
He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.
She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.
“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.
“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”
How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.
But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.
“You're cold, aren't you?”
She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”
“Liar.”
“Prick.”
“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”
Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”
His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”
Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.
She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.
Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.
“Make room for me?”
His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.
“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.
Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.
“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”
His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”
“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.
Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.
“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.
Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”
Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.
She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.
“Can you turn over?”
Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.
“Why?”
“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”
It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.
But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.
Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.
Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”
Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”
“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.
And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.
His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.
She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.
What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.
“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”
“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”
Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.
Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”
“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”
“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.
Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.
“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”
She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”
Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.
She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.
Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.
She wanted him. She needed him.
Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.
She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”
And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.
“Because I want to see you first, princess.”
Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”
He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.
Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.
Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.
“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.
Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.
His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.
“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.
“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”
Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”
“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”
Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.
His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”
She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”
A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.
Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.
His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.
But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.
“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”
A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”
He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.
“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”
She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.
Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”
Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.
“Do you want to come, princess?”
Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.
“Use your words, Y/N.”
“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.
But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.
She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”
He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”
“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”
The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.
He wasn't wearing any underwear.
The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.
Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”
For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.
Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.
Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.
“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”
She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.
“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”
With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.
He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.
Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.
“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”
His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.
A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.
She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.
They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.
Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”
“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”
Wrong words.
“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.
She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”
Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.
Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.
A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.
As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.
“Can you promise me something?”
She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”
Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”
Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.
She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”
Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.
“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”
Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.
She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.
Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.
“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”
His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.
When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.
“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”
Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…
She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.
“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”
His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”
“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”
Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.
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Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover
(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)
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lib-arts · 24 days
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The Archeron sisters
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art by me
Day
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Night
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Dusk
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rosiethorns88 · 3 months
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Heyy everyone! Happy Friday! Dropping in the long awaited and final of the Bat Boy strut series, and another therapy illustration as I waded through some appointments this past week (nurses were oogling over my shoulder). In my head, I can't see Az taking part in a bat-catwalk willingly along side the other two goofballs, so he may seem a bit annoyed here, but flexing all the same. A companion to Rhys' Invisible Lint and Cassian's Mocking Grin illustration from previous years. That last photo is a close-up to show his hands. Just his hands, y'all... Now that all three bat boys are licensed and available to purchase (or pre-order) I'm running a special bonus offer through July 15, 2024 where you can get a combined multi-color foil print of the trio when you purchase any three of these limited edition sized artworks from either of my shops. Link is in bio! 🔥
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azrielslittleslut · 3 months
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The Frenzy (pt. 1)
Azriel x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Azriel and Reader accept the mating bond.
Warnings: smut, NSFW, 18+, p in v, oral (m and f receiving), praise, language, shadow play, usual mating bond shenanigans, this might get a little crazy idk yet
Word count: 1.8k
a/n: this fic will be multiple parts. All of them will be smutty, as Az and his new mate will be exploring their new bond.
Enjoy!
The glass plate slid across the wooden table, the sound absurdly loud in the otherwise quiet dining room.
"Here," you murmured to the beautiful male sitting across from you. "Eat every last bit of it."
Azriel swallowed, and you found yourself staring at the way his Adam's apple bobbed with the movement. "Are you-" he stammered, blinking slowly. "Are you sure about this? You know what this means?"
You giggled as you leaned forward to pick up a piece of bread. You made sure to lean forward far enough so that your cleavage would be on full display for him. "I have never been more sure of anything in my life. And yes, you silly bat, I know what this means," you said as you raised the bread to his luscious lips.
You and Azriel had become friends nearly seventy years ago when you came to the Night Court to help Rhys with some court matters. The friendship had started off slow, usually with the two of you sitting in silence. He would read his spy reports and you would read your epic fantasy novels. He had always teased you for it, not understanding your love for those things when you lived in a world full of magic and mythical creatures.
That teasing had turned into an easy friendship, and it did not take long for romantic feelings to bloom. At the time, you had thought something would become of it. That was until Amarantha came and Rhys was taken away from them.
You were with Az while he screamed at the stars for his lost friend. You had held him during his nightmares and bandaged him up after fights and battles. You had kissed his beautiful, scarred hands when he despaired over them, over the pain and bloodshed they had caused.
The trials of life had overshadowed the feelings of love, but you had accepted that. Being Azriel's closest friend was better than not having him at all.
That was until six months ago when the bond snapped into place. When it happened, the two of you just stared at each other. Azriel had fled, of course, as he was not a male who faced his problems head-on. You had stared at him in silence as he flew away, trying to fight the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks.
A few days later, Azriel approached you, apologizing for his behavior. "I got scared," he said. "I don't want to fuck this up. I don't want to hurt you. You mean too much to me."
You had taken his face into your hands, pulling it down so his lips were almost touching yours. "You're a horrible spymaster if you're that oblivious to the feelings I have for you."
That started months of Az courting you, bringing you flowers, taking you on dates. He did not have much experience with healthy relationships, and he had insisted on doing it right.
But tonight.. tonight was the night you were ready to accept the bond. To accept him. You had taken him to your private residence on the outskirts of Velaris. It was far away from everyone and everything else, especially your family and friends and their prying eyes and ears.
Now, you found yourself staring at the most beautiful male you had ever seen in your long life. Your mate.
"Are you going to eat, or am I going to have to force-feed you?" you asked him, raising a brow.
His eyes darkened, and he lowered his eyes, noting how close your fingers were to his lips. He said nothing as he opened his mouth to take a bite.
You watched in silence as he ate the whole thing from your hand. When he was done, you traced your index finger across his lips to wipe away any crumbs. "Good boy," you purred as you ran your hand down his face to trace his jaw.
Whatever control Azriel had been holding onto snapped. Faster than you could move, he winnowed into shadow and reappeared right next to you. In a swift movement, he lifted you up into his strong arms, holding you close. Your breasts were pressed against his chest, and your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist.
You let out a soft moan at the feeling of his hard cock pressed against your center. "Already hard for me, shadowsinger? We're just getting started," you teased as he carried you to the bedroom.
He let out a growl as he threw you onto the bed. He leaned down, tucking in his wings, and you felt the ghost of this breath against your lips. "I get hard every time I look at you." He laid a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away. "You are the most beautiful person I have ever met, and I thank the Mother every day for bringing you into my life."
His hazel eyes were so full of love and adoration that it took your breath away. You reached a hand up, tangling your fingers in his soft curls. "I love you, Azriel." Your voice was breathless as your need for him ran through your veins.
He kissed you then. Gone was the gentle and tender male from before. This kiss was full of passion and dominance, and it lit a fire in your bones that send a rush of heat to your throbbing pussy. "Please, Az," you beg. "No teasing right now."
Azriel wrapped his lips around your tongue and sucked, grazing his teeth along the tender flesh. "I know, love." He pulled away just enough to raise a finger to his siphon. "Teasing will come later."
He tapped the stone, and both of your clothes disappeared in a flash of cobalt. The feeling of his naked body against yours was dizzying in the best way. You ran your hands over him, trying desperately to memorize every bump and scar as if this was the last time you were going to touch him.
He kissed his way down your chest, cupping your breasts to raise a nipple to his lips. He flicked his tongue out, and you moaned a the feeling. He continued his torturous path down and down until he made it to your dripping pussy.
You raised up on your elbows, looking down at him. "I said no teasing." You tried to close your legs to stop him, but his shadows wrapped themselves around them, holding you open.
He kissed the inside of each thigh before hovering over your slit. Your breath caught at the sight of him between your legs. A dark part of you wanted to show it to Feyre so she could paint it for you.
"I have to get you ready for me, princess," he says, his voice low and sexy as hell. "Plus, I've wanted to taste this pretty cunt for years now."
He licked a stripe up your center, and your vision went white. He circled his tongue around your clit and the world around you fractured and fell together again. You buried your hands in his dark locks, grinding your hips against his face. "Yes, Az. Yes, yes, yes."
"You taste so fucking good," he groaned against your pussy. "Better than I ever imagined."
You were beyond words, unable to think as he took you apart with his tongue. You let out a sinful moan as he thrust in a finger. You started to feel the pressure of your orgasm starting to build in your lower belly. You weakly pulled him away, although you very much wanted him to stay between your thighs for much longer.
"I want to cum on your cock," you whispered, pulling his wet face up to yours. He kissed you savagely hard, and you moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips.
His shadows released their hold on you, and he nudged your legs farther apart as he settled between them. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him brush against your tender flesh. With one hand, he aligned himself with your entrance. With the other, he gripped your hand in his own, placing it above your head. "Eyes on me, love." You locked eyes with him, meeting his lust-blown gaze with your own. "I love you," he murmured and pushed himself in.
You screamed at the feeling of his cock filling you, stretching you. He worked his way in with slow thrusts, letting you adjust to his size.
I guess they weren't lying about wingspan, you thought to yourself smugly.
With a final thrust, he seated himself into the hilt, his hips flush with yours. "Move, Az," you plead as you scrape your nails across his broad shoulders.
With a groan of pleasure, he began to fuck you. It started out passionate, with slow and deep thrusts that had your head thrown back. You wrapped your legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts with your own.
He leaned to kiss your neck. "Say it," he murmured against your sweat-slick skin.
You knew what he meant. "You're mine."
He pulled out and slammed in hard. The movement caused your hand to slip and brush against the arch of his beautiful wing. He groaned, biting your shoulder.
"You're mine," you say again.
He placed his forehead against yours as he said, "And I am yours." His thrusts became harder and faster, and you could hear the headboard banging against the wall.
"Fuck, you feel so good. So tight around my cock."
His filthy words caused you to clench around him and he roared, his thrusts so wild and unchecked that you struggled to keep your legs wrapped around him.
Suddenly, you felt that pull in your chest, that wonderful bond that connected you to him. It was pulling at your heart, reaching out for his. It was golden, laced with shadows and starlight. It was beautiful and perfect, better than anything else in the world.
He was your friend through trials, your lover through the dangers of this world. He was yours and you were his.
You felt that pressure begin to build again, and you pull him in for a kiss. "Cum with me, mate," you say against his lips.
Azriel slammed into the hilt and let out a roar that rattled the windows in the bedroom. His shadows wrapped around the two of you, placing you in a shadowy cocoon, away from the world. Your back arched as your climax slammed into your body, and you screamed as you rode out your waves of pleasure. He kept fucking you, filling you up with his cum, claiming you.
For a few moments, the two of you stared at each other, soft smiles on your lips. He was still buried deep inside of you, and he made no move to pull out. That bond glowed between you, and he brought his face down to kiss you softly. "My mate," he murmured. "My perfect mate."
You giggled as you nipped at his lower lip, causing him to groan. Your breath hitched as you felt him harden again inside of you. His eyes filled with a primal desire that caused you to moan softly.
"Again," you commanded, already needing him.
The frenzy had begun.
if you want to be added to a tag list for this fic, let me know!:)
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Another one thank you.
Azriel and Nyxie
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gwandas · 4 months
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We don't talk enough about how funny the dreamer shit in ACOTAR is. The IC are all sitting around acting like they're these underdogs when they are literally the government. Wdym you're dreaming of a better world... that's your fuckin job. Get to it, chop chop!
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rainingriversofyou · 3 months
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The Archeron Sisters - A Court Of Thorns And Roses
Artist: gracerstudios
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i-only-see-daylight · 6 months
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Aelin: If I died-
Rowan, sharpening his knives: Death will not get you out of this relationship.
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spacerockfloater · 5 months
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The way people switched on Tamlin the moment Rhys was introduced is diabolical.
“Tamlin never really loved Feyre, it was all a trick from the start”: It is stated that Tamlin was disgusted by the idea of forcing someone to fall in love with him and considered it slavery, but ended up being so in love with her that he ultimately lets her go and choses her freedom and safety over that of his own people. Rhys confirms that Tamlin loved Feyre too much. And he loved her truly. Not because he had to. Tamlin treated Feyre with dignity when she was engaged to him. He introduced her as his lady, to be respected and cherished by all. And she really was loved by his people, too. Rhysand uses her as his lap dog to scare Hewn City and parades her as his whore.
“Tamlin never did anything for Feyre, he just used her”: He improved her and her family’s life in every aspect and offered her everything he had.
“Tamlin had sex with someone else in Calanmai”: Out of duty and responsibility because he didn’t want to force Feyre, who still wasn’t sure about her feelings, into it. All of the High Lords perform the Calanmai. Lucien says so. How convenient that this is never brought up with Rhysand. He surely does perform it as well. All the theories in here, “Lucien doesn’t know what he’s talking about/ This is a SC ritual only/ He probably just passes the duty on to someone else” are just a way for people to villainise Tam and glorify Rhys again. All of them inaccurate. The Calanmai is canonically performed by every High Lord. There’s no evidence that proves otherwise. As the son of one High Lord and the ambassador of another, Lucien would know. He is 500 years old. It’s just more convenient for SJM to never bring this up again because it raises the question of “Who was Rhysand fucking all these years?” and it makes her favourite character look bad. And once he is engaged to her, Tamlin flat out refuses to do it. Let’s be real for a second.
“Tamlin didn’t help Feyre under the mountain”: He literally could not. He was bound by a curse. He was forced to be Amarantha’s consort and a consort cannot oppose you. His powers were bound. Alis warns Feyre that Tamlin will not be able to help her. Stop acting as if he didn’t want to help her. He decapitated Amarantha the moment he got his autonomy back. Claiming that there’s no proof that Tamlin was under the influence of a spell when he literally didn’t break the curse and Amarantha’s magic didn’t allow him to use his powers is crazy. And even if he tried, he could never provide actual help. We see this when he begs Amarantha for Feyre’s life. Him showing he cares about her would only make Amarantha more jealous and vicious towards Feyre.
“Tamlin made out with Feyre instead of helping her”: He couldn’t help her run away. No one could do that. She would never make it, Amarantha would find her. In fact, Tamlin specifically could not help her in any way. He could only assure her he still wants and loves her. And she wanted that just as much. Rhys abused her physically, mentally, verbally, drugged her and much worse. And he enjoyed all of it. If he didn’t want to raise suspicions, he wouldn’t have placed a bet in her favour. Rhys is a sadist, SJM just decided to mellow him down in the next book so that we’d all like him over Tamlin.
“Tamlin ignored Feyre’s wishes and only wanted her to be his bride, he didn’t let her be High Lady”: Both Tamlin and Feyre were bad communicators going though trauma and Tam had a whole court to care for. Tamlin was unaware of how Feyre felt because she barely spoke up once. Rhys knew because he literally lived inside her head and had all the time in the world to focus his attention on her since his court suffered zero consequences during Amarantha’s reign. And Tamlin simply told her the truth: there’s no such thing as High Lady. Even her current title is given to her by Rhys, the magic of Prythian has not actually chosen her to be High Lady. The title and its power are decorative. And she said she didn’t want that anyway.
“Tamlin locks Feyre up and uses his magic to harm her”: He locks her in his humongous palace to keep her safe, after she just came back from the dead and his worst enemy is kidnapping her every month, while he runs off to protect his borders. Rhysand locks Feyre in a fucking bubble. Tamlin loses control of his magic. He doesn’t want to harm her. That’s not abuse. Abuse is intentional. Feyre and Rhysand lock Lucien and Nesta up. They lock the people of the Hewn City up in a cave. Feyre loses control of her magic and harms Lucien’s mother. Double standards I guess.
“Tamlin is a bad and conservative ruler”: Tamlin is such a beloved ruler that his sentries literally begged to die for him. Feyre had to fuck with their minds to finally turn them against him. They were his friends. He was so progressive that the lords fled his court once he became their ruler because he wouldn’t put up with their bullshit like his father did. He loved all of his people. He is against slavery. The Tithe was just tax collection. Rhysand practically rules over just one city, while ignoring Hewn City and Illyria. He treats 2/3 of his realm like shit and everyone except the residents of Velaris hates him. He collects tax, too, but we conveniently never see this. He ranks the members of his inner circle (my 1st, my 2nd etc.) and reminds them every moment that they are his slaves first and anything else second, while Tamlin treats them equally and even gives Lucien an official title by naming him Ambassador.
“Tamlin conspired with Hybern”: He was a double agent and his short lived alliance, two weeks all in all, not only didn’t harm a single soul, but ultimately saved all of Prythian as he was the only one who brought valuable information to that meeting. He dragged Beron to battle. Rhysand’s alliance with Amarantha harmed thousands and only helped save one city, Velaris.
“Tamlin is responsible for turning Nesta and Elain into Fae”: No, that was Ianthe, who got the info from Feyre. Tamlin was fooled by her, just as Feyre obviously was, or she wouldn’t have trusted her. Tamlin was disgusted by that act.
“Tamlin is less powerful than Rhysand”: Rhysand himself says that a battle between them would turn mountains to dust. Tamlin killed Rhysand’s dad, the previous High Lord of the Night Court, in one blow. He is just as powerful as Rhysand. SJM again just wants us to believe otherwise. And he is smarter, too. He was the only one not to trust Amarantha. And he was a good spy for Prythian against Hybern.
All of these takes are cold as fuck. SJM was testing the waters with ACOTAR and she made sure the main love interest, Tamlin, was insanely likeable, so that the book could be a satisfactory standalone story in case she couldn’t land a trilogy deal. She didn’t know it would be such a big hit. But once she realised she could turn this into a franchise, she had to figure out a new story to tell. She may claim otherwise, but there’s just too many plothotes to convince me. And in order to make her new main love interest seem like the best choice, she had to character assassinate the old one. There was no other way. ACOTAR Rhys was too much of an evil monster to be loved by the majority of the audience. But Tamlin was introduced to us as such a heroic and passionate man that is literally impossible to turn him into someone despised by all. Feyre’s relationship with Rhysand reads too much like cheating on Tamlin. That’s why anyone with basic analytical skills is able to realise the flaws of the narration.
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oristian · 8 days
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“I’m here, Nes.”
@nessianweek Day Two — Yearning
Nesta once distanced herself from Cassian as a means of punishment, seeing herself as something tainted and Cassian as something wholly good. I think back to that vulnerability, and other scenes, where Nesta fully opened herself up to Cassian and how he became a comfort for her. Two individuals would wanted to be together, who wanted the other, to the extent where they couldn’t stay away.
“There will be no one else. For either of us,” he promised. “Yes,” she whispered. “Ever,” he promised.
Nesta laid a hand on his muscled chest, letting the thunderous beating of the heart beneath echo into her palm. Let it travel down her arm, into her own chest, her own heart. “Ever,” she swore. — ACOSF, Chapter 58
ART CREDIT @/tasbaqaart
COMMISSIONED BY @oristian
PLEASE DO NOT REPOST
FOUND ALSO ON INSTAGRAM (HERE)
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