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#a court of thorns and roses
foxfairyreads · 2 days ago
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What if— 🌞🦊
Support me on Instagram @ marcellamac_art !
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elriell · 2 days ago
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TEARS OF GOLD
Thrilled to display the next commission I have been planning, this beautiful piece created by the wonderful @imjenndove on insta & is inspired by Eros & Psyche art.
(Do not repost. Reblog from this post or find it from source on other socials, as people refuse to credit commissioners properly. Thank you.)
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gothicbabydollz · a day ago
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Can you do an Azriel pwp plz :)
ofc ofc :)
pairings: Azriel x gn!reader
warnings: 18+, smut under the cut, dom/sub dynamics, dom!az, rough sex, pet names (little one), Az having a sir kink ;)
a/n: this isn’t proof read so forgive me if there’s any mistakes
~~~
your knuckles had turned white from how hard you were gripping the headboard, desperately needing something to hold on to as Azriel took you how he wanted
he was relentless and rough
each thrust sent the bed slamming loudly into the wall, combining with your lewd moans and Az’s grunts
your head spun with pleasure, your eyes fluttering and jaw hanging open.
sweat, drool and tears wet your face
azriel succeeding in fucking you completely dumb
“you take me so well, little one”
he groaned lowly, eyes glued to where you two were connected, watching your tight hole sucking him in
you clench around his cock in response, a small fuck slipping out from under his breath
azriel’s grip on your waist tightened, using it to pull your hips back to meet his thrusts
you already knew his fingerprints would be staining you for days
his cock barely grazed a sensitive spot inside you but still, it had you keening
azriel grinned, pausing to grind his hips against you, pushing the head of his cock into that spot
“right, there?” Az practically cooed
your breath had caught in your throat at the overwhelming pleasure, unable to do more than nod
he wrapped a strong arm around you and pulled you up, back flat against his chest, slick with sweat
you held onto his forearm to keep from wobbling
ou whined loudly, grinding your hips back when his own remained still
his deep chuckle sent a shiver through you
“need something, my little one?” he asked, breath fanning the side of your face
you only pushed back against him further
Az growled, “Use your words.”
looking back at him, the sight almost had you coming undone alone
messy hair damp and falling over his forehead
hazel eyes peering at you from under his narrowed brow
tongue darting out to wet that bottom lip you loved to bite so much
he really was the most beautiful male you’d ever laid eyes on
“fuck me, sir,” you panted, “Please.”
his grin returned
azriel drew his hips back to rut into you, moans falling from both of you
you let your head drop back onto Az’s shoulder as he began fucking you again
the noises of skin on skin is music to your ears, you tugged your lip between your teeth at the downright filth and lewdness of it
having been on the edge for a while, it didn’t take long for Azriel to bring you back to it
your stomach was coiling but you needed and wanted that extra push
you turned your head, nuzzling your nose against his neck and inhaling his scent
“mm, sir…”
azriel let out a hum, his breath coming out in harsh pants while he moved his hips into yours, “yes, little one?”
you kissed his neck, nipping at the skin
“harder.”
the noise Azriel released was sinful as he pushed you back onto your hands and knees
“you want it harder, little one?” he mused with a harsh thrust that had you lurching forward to grip the headboard once again, “as you wish.”
he pounded your poor hole just as you’d asked, putting his weight behind each deep thrust
“azriel!” you cried out his name, the only warning you could manage to let him know how close you were as
he already knew, of course
you were like a vice around his cock, pulsating around him so much, he was amazed at how he was able to keep fucking you
“that's it, take it…” Az’s words were barely more than a mumble, he too ready to burst from pleasure, “take my cock little one, it's all yours!”
“now, cum”
one last snap of Azriel’s hips sent you both spiralling
a faint splintering sound could be heard over the ringing in your ears
not that you cared, even when your bodies toppled to the side
azriel was spilling into you as you came with an shout, your own release staining the sheets beneath you
his arms were wrapped tightly around you, holding your trembling body against his
the two of you panted heavily, coming down from your highs
azriel began pressing his lips to your shoulder in featherlight kisses
soft praises tumbled from his mouth
you’re okay, little one
did so well for me
i’ve got you
you almost whimpered when Az pulled out from you,
cursing under his breath as he caught sight of his seed dripping from your abused hole
it took all his might not to scoop it all up on his tongue and fuck his cum back into you
“Az…”
he tore his eyes up to your face, “yes, little one?” he ran a scarred hand soothingly up your back
you smiled softly at his change in demeanour before gesturing to the slant in the bed
“we broke the bed” you couldn’t help but laugh as you watched Azriel study the snapped wood that would normally hold the right corner up
he shook his head, “you can explain to Rhys.”
he laughed at your reaction to that before pulling you into his arms
both of you laying in awkward comfort due to the new positioning of your bed
you practically limped into the dining room the next morning
Azriel gladly let his proudness slip knowing he did this to you
Cassian’s face said it all, he was holding back a shit eating grin as he watched you and Az take your seats
Nesta simply looked at you, “You’ve made your point. We’ll keep it down.”
her words set Cassian off earning a vulgar gesture from you as you groaned, heating with embarrassment
“bullshit, you’ll keep it down.”
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thegirleatbooks · 2 days ago
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I found this in twitter 🤣💖
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🕯 🕯
🕯 elain 🕯
🕯 💕 🦇🌸 💕 🕯
🕯 azriel 🕯
🕯 🕯
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talkfantasytome · a day ago
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Autumn in Velaris
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Drabbles and one-shots written all within just a random, modern AU in the city of Velaris that will likely be randomly used. It's lovely in the autumn. Nesta and Cassian share a nice apartment, Azriel and Gwyn are growing closer in more ways than one, and fall festivities abound.
Pieces listed by ship, and then chronologically in the timeline (when relevant).
Nessian
Salute This Moon
A Touch of Spice
Full Body, Right?
Gwynriel
Don’t Think Too Hard
A Good Boy
Never a Waste
Can’t Scare Me Away
Something To Look Forward To
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princessofmerchants · 2 days ago
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~25 ACOSF Days of Solstice~
They fell silent again as Gwyn shifted her feet, angling the blade. The wind waggled the ribbon again, as if taunting her. Cassian glanced over at Az, but his attention was fixed on the young priestess, admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face. Gwyn whispered, “I am the rock against which the surf crashes.” Nesta straightened at the words, as if they were a prayer and a summons. Gwyn lifted the blade. “Nothing can break me.” Cassian’s throat tightened, and even from across the ring, he could see Nesta’s eyes gleaming with pride and pain. Emerie said, “Nothing can break us.” The world seemed to pause at the words. As if it had been following one path and now branched off in another direction. In a hundred years, a thousand, this moment would still be etched in his mind. That he would tell his children, his grandchildren, Right then and there. That was when it all changed. Azriel went wholly still, as if he, too, had felt the shift. As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved. Smooth as the Sidra, swift as the wind off the Illyrian Mountains, her entire body working in singing harmony, Gwyn lunged toward the ribbon, twirled, and as she spun, her arm opened up, executing a perfect backhanded slice that cut the winter morning itself. Half the ribbon fluttered to the red stone. A flawless, precise slice. Not one frayed strand rippled in the wind as the severed ribbon hanging from the beam flapped. Nesta bent down, picked up the fallen half of the ribbon, and solemnly tied it around Gwyn’s brow. A makeshift version of what the priestesses wore atop their heads with their stones. But Cassian had never seen Gwyn display her Invoking Stone. Gwyn lifted trembling fingers to her brow, touching the ribbon with which Nesta had crowned her. Nesta’s voice was thick as she declared, “Valkyrie.”
—ACOSF Ch. 60
This scene opens Chapter 60, and I believe this is SJM's writing at its best.
Three strong women, reforming an ancient female warrior group, their strength born from struggle and pain but finding light and purpose together...this is the moment the narrative bends around them.
Gwyn's invocation, "I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break me," and Emerie's reminder that they are an "us" now. Nesta's admiration for her strong friend. It is archetypical yet utterly personal.
But the moment is told through Cassian's eyes. SJM is at her core a romance writer. The partners she writes for her strong heroines have this lens through which they grow to see and know their mates (used here in all senses)—a lens shaped by love, strength, admiration, and at times wonder.
(NB: I'll admit, for me, this moment is also one of the strongest bits of textual evidence that SJM's romantic plans for Azriel will involve Gwyn. His admiration of her here, albeit observed by his brother, is right in type with the mold of SJM's romantic pairings.)
But this part of ACOSF is also why I see....literally SEE these three females in future books playing a role that is world altering. I mean, it's right there in the text: "The world seemed to pause at the words. As if it had been following one path and now branched off in another direction. . . . Right then and there. That was when it all changed."
And I get chills reading this because while ACOSF gives us their participation in the Blood Rite as one way they emerge as a unit, I feel in my bones their role, and the role of the Valkyries which they have brought back to life, will shape the outcomes of the world conflicts to come.
I can't wait to see it.
25 ACOSF Days of Solstice Masterlist
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lala2sstuff · a day ago
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Burn and Fade, pt01
Everyone has a breaking point—a moment where it all becomes too much. It’s one thing too many, one mistake or burden more than can be handled. One truth more than should have been revealed. One betrayal more than can be forgiven. For Cassian, it’s probably this moment. Two souls meeting on a battlefield, two former lovers with a connection that neither of them wants to acknowledge. Two opposing families fighting for control in a world that is growing smaller by the second. Because Nesta Archeron, enemy of the Night Court, is standing before him with her sword drawn, and the only way that Cassian is leaving this place alive is if Nesta leaves with him.
OR, that AU I decided to write for some reason, where the Archeron sisters are fae and raised in the Night Court until Mama Archeron decided to start a war to take over and everything went to hell. Mentions of blood and violence, implied character death (spoiler--I can't bring myself to kill my babies), tons of angst, kind of dark, Nesta almost kills Cassian, and oh yeah, where did Feyre and Rhys run off to? And where did Lucien take Elain? Story will look at all three sisters, but starts with Nessian.
Read it on AO3 or Check out my Masterlist for more chapters and stories
OR leave me an ask with a request or comment on the story, I DARE YOU
Pt01 behind the cut
Everyone has a breaking point—a moment where it all becomes too much. It’s one thing too many, one mistake or burden more than can be handled. One truth more than should have been revealed. One betrayal more than can be forgiven.
For Cassian, it’s probably this moment. Two souls meeting on a battlefield, two former lovers with a connection that neither of them wants to acknowledge. Two opposing families fighting for control in a world that is growing smaller by the second.
“Nesta,” Cassian can barely catch his breath to force her name out, his voice ragged and pained. He’s holding his side where he’s already been stabbed by an enemy blade, nearly run through, the warm blood seeping through his fingers and caking in the lines of his hand. If he somehow manages to survive this, if he somehow makes it back to Velaris, it will take hours to scrub his palms clean, and probably even longer to clean the blood from around his fingernails. But it’s hard for Cassian to imagine that far ahead right now, harder still for him to contemplate what it would mean.
Because Nesta Archeron, enemy of the Night Court, is standing before him with her sword drawn, and the only way that Cassian is leaving this place alive is if Nesta leaves with him.
Her blue-gray eyes are cool and distant as she gazes at him, but Cassian knows it’s only for show. He’s seen Nesta when her guard is up, when she’s determined to keep her emotions at bay for the sake of whatever task is at hand. He fought side by side with her once, years ago, to help protect the humans and find freedom for them on the other side of the wall. He knows that she’s trying to distance herself from what has to be done.
“Nesta,” Cassian breathes, barely able to speak at all. At this point, he’s not sure how he’s still standing. The battlefield has grown cold and quiet. The world around him is dimming. Even in the coming darkness, however, he can still make out Nesta. “Nesta, don’t—don’t do this. You don’t want this.”
The problem is that Nesta really doesn’t want this. Maybe, once upon a time. So long ago, now, that she can barely remember where the idea of it started. Two powerful fae families, the Night Court split between them, and each vying for control. Power. 
Where had the idea for war come from? Was it her mother? Was that how it had happened—her mother, beautiful and cruel and filled with ambition, whispering quietly in her father’s ear. Her father, desperate to please a wife who would never be satisfied. Like Feyre and Rhys, she and Cassian fought together, killed together, bled together. In those days, they had gone into battle as if they were born to fight, feeling fully alive. It was like a game, then. To see who could fight the longest, who could survive the worst, who could kill the most. In the hours and days after a battle, they’d come together and compare their wounds, counting the bodies of those they’d slain without any thought of what it truly meant—the lives they had ended, the families they’d destroyed. It was a heady rush of violence and sex that was deliciously distracting in the face of whatever it was her mother had been planning.
A political marriage between Feyre and Rhys, one meant to end in murder. Instead, the lovers disappeared. War began.
The Court of Nightmares was bathed in blood and Velaris was in shambles.
And for what—Nesta stares at Cassian and wonders. What is all of this for?
A court that Nesta never wanted? Revenge for a sister who wanted to escape? 
Blood drips from the tip of Nesta’s sword, the sound carrying to her ears over the quiet breeze that sweeps the battlefield, and Nesta can feel her heart keeping pace with each droplet that falls. The blood belongs to Cassian. Her former lover. The beautiful male who once stood by her side through unspeakable darkness, when it felt as though all the world was ending and she would cling to anything, anything, to feel grounded. To survive.
Cassian had once been her survival.
No, she doesn’t want this. But she doesn’t know how to walk away, either. “Give up, Cassian.” She takes a step forward on blood soaked ground, the dirt caking like mud around her heels. She’s wearing the Illyrian leathers she trained in so long ago, the same ones that still bear the scars from when she’d practically been cut open in the last war. She was certain that she was going to die. Cassian had rushed to her side. He’d cradled her in his arms. He’d spoken things...things he hadn’t meant for her to hear.
She’d heard the word that neither of them wanted to say, the truth that neither of them could bring themselves to speak. It quietly whispered to them, then, a gentle tug in the back of their minds, the same way it whispered to them now in a strangled sort of agony. Mate.
“Nesta…”
“You can’t win this.” She closes the distance between them, trying to ignore the something inside of her that’s screaming with panic at the scent of Cassian’s blood, the sight of him barely standing, the knowledge that time is running out. She watches Cassian fall to his knees, wincing as he does, and crouches down beside him so that they’re close to eye level. He’s in so much pain. She can hear the thought as it passes through her mind, as if someone else is speaking to her. He’s in so much pain. He’s not going to make it. “Give up, Cassian.” 
It’s hard to keep his eyes open. It’s hard to keep his hand in place. It’s hard to hold onto his sword. Cassian can tell that his siphons are beginning to dim. He can feel his wings drooping lazily, splayed on the ground behind him. The walls are closing in. He can still see Nesta clearly, her golden hair bright even on such a cloudy, bloody day as this. The blue-gray in her eyes is thawing. 
Good, he thinks softly. He prefers when they blaze, when all her fire and passion is on display instead of hidden behind that practiced indifference that she worked to master all those years so she could please her mother. He likes it best when they blaze at him, bright and unyielding, filled with humor or hatred, or desperate need, anything but that cold look. “I can’t.” He pants, sword falling from his hand. It barely makes a sound. “I can’t.”
Nesta wants to be angry. She wants to scream, to cry in frustration, to tear this godsforsaken world into two. She wants it to end—all of it. She can’t keep fighting. She can’t keep killing. She wants to see Feyre, to know that she’s okay. She wants to find where Lucien has hidden Elain, stolen away in the night to try and protect her from watching her friends and family destroy the only home she’s ever known. She wants to go back in time and stop all of this from happening.
She wants Cassian to live.
Mate.
He’s in so much pain. He’s not going to make it.
“Velaris is gone,” Nesta can hear her voice cracking, the sound of her heart finally beginning to break. “There’s nothing left. The Court of Nightmares already belongs to us.” Us, Nesta thinks. Her. Nothing has ever belonged to Nesta, not really. Nothing except what she once shared with Cassian. “You don’t have anything left to fight for.” 
She hates to see Cassian so weak, pulling his hand from his side to reach out and support himself as he falls forward. She rushes to catch him and prop him up, silently hating herself for making him so weak. She hates her mother, for raising her to fight and scheme and envy power. She hates Prythian for not stopping any of it from happening. She could destroy everything, everyone, for what this fight has come to.
He surprises her, though. He smirks. It reminds her of the first day she met him, when they were barely more than children and he and Rhys were still fighting with each other more often than not. He’d made some smartass remark about Nesta then, about how she’d never be a good fighter with all that golden brown hair of hers always getting in the way. It had only taken one hit for her to knock him on his ass. She’d come back to training the very next day, her long hair pulled up into a braided crown. He’d said she looked like a queen, then. A goddess.
His voice had been mocking, but they both knew it was sincere.
He smirks and looks up at Nesta through eyes that are half-open and drifting closed. “I wasn’t fighting for Velaris.”
Cassian and Azriel had already saved everyone they could. Everyone, Cassian had thought, except for one person—the one person.
Mate.
Cassian had been fighting for Nesta. To stop the war. To save her from her mother. To save her from doing anything else she would regret.
Nesta. How strange it is to be at the end of the story, to know that you’re dying and to feel the life leaving your body, and to hear that small voice, that gentle tug. Mate. It was terrifying that first time he’d heard it, still barely more than a child. She’d knocked him to the ground when they were sparring together, taunting him with a kiss. The thread between them had snapped into place, pulling so sharply that it had stolen his breath. He hadn’t been ready to acknowledge that voice then, the quiet whisper in the back of his mind, even as that thread kept pulling them together day after day, night after night. 
Mate. It’s not frightening now. It’s soothing. It’s comforting. If Cassian has to die, then at least he’ll die for something good. For someone, Cassian thinks, that he loves.
But Nesta is not comforted. She is not soothed, nor placated, nor appeased or satisfied. Nesta Archeron is furious and panicked. Mate. It’s not a whisper for her now but a scream, sharp and unrelenting in her ears. Her heart is pounding so fast that it aches, the adrenaline flooding her body so quickly that her hands are starting to shake. Cassian’s eyes close and his breathing slows, and Nesta can’t ignore the truth anymore. She can’t pretend that it isn’t Cassian’s blood on her sword, that she hasn’t brought destruction to the home that she loved, that she wasn’t complicit in unforgivable atrocities. She fought in her mother’s name. She destroyed everything that mattered to her.
Including Cassian.
Including, she thinks, her mate.
The sound that escapes her then is something she can’t comprehend. It’s too filled with pain and terror, with knowledge of what she’s done and who’s become, and everything she’s lost. 
Her home is destroyed. Her sisters are gone. Her mate is dying.
Everyone has a breaking point, that moment when you can endure no longer. For Nesta, it is this moment. All thoughts of war forgotten, she cradles Cassian in her arms, the last few moments of his life slipping away. She closes her eyes, silently praying that there’s still enough time. 
She thinks of the farthest place from this wretched court she can, holding Cassian tightly, and winnows them away from the battlefield to find a healer.  
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tessasclockworkangel · 9 months ago
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Sometimes I think that I could be the beautiful sword wielding girl with a dark past then I have the misfortune of remembering that I'm a fucking nerd who uses books as escapism.
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llstarcasterll · 8 months ago
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a court of silver flames is snatching my wig every which way from tuesday holy crap
TWITTER || INSTAGRAM
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thegirleatbooks · 19 hours ago
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⚠️headcanon elriel⚠️
"𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐧, 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬. 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐄𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮."
Waiting for this day
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Cr : cosmikla
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rhysand-vs-fenrys · 9 months ago
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Azriel honestly just stood there throughout the entire first half of ACOSF going “I shall offer to chaperone, I shall let them fuck like bunnies, I shall cockblock at certain times so they’re desperate for each other, and then let them go on sprees for days. This is how I win the Snowball War.”
Rhys, seeing all this in his mind::
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ekbelsher · 4 months ago
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Everyone thinks my version of Cardan looks like Cassian, so why not do him too? Thought I’d take a stab at straight-up digital colour over a pencil drawing, and it came out looking kind of like a page from a comic book. Based on a scene from Embers & Light by @duskandstarlight -- check it out if you’re up for some Nessian! 😊
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