You can still vote!

(looks like everyone likes incel Azriel going all feral over mated slut Elain)

KaneScribbles just posted new sketches for Elriel 🎉🎉🎉

I hope you're enjoying it as much as we are!

I want Az to have a baby that looks just like Elain so bad. He will be the most protective and jealous daddy of the bat boys. I want daddy Az doing cute pigtails in her soft golden brown hair, her putting tiny flowers in daddy's hair, him ripping her out of Cassian' arms and giving the "I will kill you later" stare at him for making her cry when he actually did nothing, her saying "i want daddy!" with pure conviction, him falling hard for the doe eyes that she took from her mommy, him taking her in his arms to fly with him, the height difference between them because she looks like a cute little daisy flower standing next to her big winged daddy 😭😭😭❤❤❤

SHE WOULD HAVE HIM WRAPPED AROUND HER LITTLE FINGER

It's much easier to criticize Elain than it is Gwyn.

And that's not to say that one character is inherently better than another. I like them both. But their purposes in the story are different, so they have to be written differently.

Elain, like any important character that can move the story along, is flawed. She's complacent, she has little to no backbone, she has a history of not standing up for the people she loves or herself, and when we first meet her, she's whiny.

Gwyn, on the other hand, is introduced to us as a side character to help Nesta on her healing journey. The only flaw we're really given for her is that she can't really be trusted with secrets. Other than that she's brave, selfless, kind, loving. There are very few negative things we can really say about her.

And that's the point.

Any character who centers a narrative (which Elain will, it's long confirmed) needs to have flaws. It's how they grow, how we get great character development.

Side characters don't get big flaws because they are there in service of the protagonist, not to take charge of the plot themselves.

And story about a character with only minor flaws simply isn't compelling.

And as of right now, Gwyn only has one minor flaw. It's not enough. That, in conjunction with the fact that she has absolutely no ties to the overarching plot, is why I can't see how her book could be next, if she ever got one at all.

Side note: There are questions that could definitely be answered about Gwyn, but they don't need to be answered in order to advance the plot. Because that's not what her character has been written to do. At least not at this point.

So yeah, of course it's easier to criticize Elain and point out all the bad things about her. Of course she has more known flaws than Gwyn. It's because Elain will be a protagonist (likely the next protagonist) and who wants to read a story about someone who is already near perfect?

HANNAH DODD AS FRANCESCA BRIDGERTON BRIDGERTON SEASON THREE: PART ONE

New Chapter of a Court of Blood & Mercy - Chapter 30 "Is This a Dream?" now available! 💋⚔️ 🖤

Oh noooo

Two grown adults have feelings for each other 😱

Somebody call the Prythian police 😠

This adulteress gardener and fuckboy spymaster need to be locked up 😣😣 can't believe they're allowed to roam around in the broad sunlight dead of night 😫

This is literally what they sound like oh my god

Hold tight and don’t make a sound

Elain and Azriel - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Artist: @edazuri for @elriel-month

Elriel Month // Hold Tight and Don’t Make a Sound

Over the years, we have enjoyed many Elriel fics where either Azriel or Elain play the piano, so we thought we would take that idea in a sexier direction for today’s prompt. Of course we know Az is a music fan, but we’re pretty sure (and we think SJM would agree!) that his very favorite song will be Elain’s moans of pleasure 🥵

*******

🎨 Art by @mahpiyaluta_

✨ Commissioned by @elainsweetcobalt and me for @elriel-month (find it on IG here)

💙 Please do not repost. Reblogs are welcome! 

Rain

My contribution to @elriel-month. This is just something I decided to whip up for my friends and other folks to read. Ever since joining the fandom in December 2023, I've met so many kindhearted Elriel fans that I wanted to give back to. This little piece is probably best for the Choice prompt. (Yes, I'm late. Sue me.) Go easy on me please, as I haven't written for a fandom in years lol.

*Inspired by the song Rain by Sleep Token, who I just know Azriel would be a fan of*

Word Count: 1.5k

*Divider by @tsunami-of-tears* (Check out their blog and other pretty dividers!!)

Pain. Blood. Torture. Death. 

For the better part of five hundred years, Azriel has been subjected to unfathomable horrors, the kinds that would no doubt break a human male’s spirit. As the Night Court’s stealthy spymaster and feared shadowsinger, it’s been his job to inflict unendurable pain upon the bodies of his enemies. He spills their traitorous blood and tortures them into the long hours of the night until they have no choice but to finally succumb to death’s sweet song. 

It’s become a routine, so much so that the panicked screams and the precise slicing of his most prized dagger feel like second nature. He doesn’t blink as they plead for their lives. He doesn’t flinch as crimson liquid splatters across his cheeks, in his hair, down his hands. He takes away life as easily as the Mother creates it. And just as Rhysand has perfected the mask of the High Lord, Azriel has mastered his own cruel, stoic front. 

On nights like tonight, however, Azriel questions if he truly does have a mask, or if the centuries spent brutally maiming wolves in sheep's skin has turned him into an irreparable monster. The voices in his head are loud enough to wake creatures that have been asleep for hundreds of years, and a long flight around Velaris does nothing to silence them. Even the shadows at his shoulders swirl in agitation as the words replay on a loop in his mind. 

Killer. 

Bastard. 

Good for nothing. 

Irredeemable. 

Unworthy. 

It is only until he gently opens the front door to his home that he feels some kind of relief. The kitchen smells like jasmine and banana bread, courtesy of the warm loaf cooling down on the marble countertop. A cozy heat burns from the stone fireplace, and the lights in every room are dimmed to a soft glow. And he only permits himself to breathe when his hazel eyes connect with the beautiful brown ones that belong to the most exquisite female he’s ever had the pleasure of calling his. 

Elain Archeron. His love. His lifeline. His Mother-given solace. 

She rises from the sofa, setting aside her book and abandoning the treat she’d been munching on to stand before him. He doesn’t move or speak as her eyes drink him in, observing the blood on his leathers and assessing for visible injuries. Satisfied with the lack of wounds, Elain gives him a small smile and gently reaches for his hand, guiding him into the bathroom. 

Hot steam and the scent of eucalyptus fill the air as Elain turns on the shower. It was the first renovation they’d wanted for their home, a bathing stall large enough to accommodate the both of them, along with the width of Illyrian wings. 

Azriel watches as Elain delicately works the soiled leathers down his body. Her brows furrow slightly at a few small gashes along his chest and side, but before she can fret, his thumb rubs away the tension from the crease. 

“I’m okay,” he says. He means it, too. Her presence has always been a comfort for him. All he’s ever felt around her was peace, something he never thought he would find let alone deserve. On nights where his thoughts run rampant, a soft smile is enough to break the vicious cycle of self criticism. 

Her lips quirk, not fully believing him. Azriel may be the spymaster who can conceal his emotions with ease, but Elain had effortlessly clocked the haunted look in his eyes when he’d first crossed the threshold. “Physically, yes. But I worry more about what goes on up here,” She taps his temple twice. “What can I do to help?” 

Elain’s perception astonishes him. Her ability to pick up the subtle changes in his voice or mood has only grown sharper the longer they’ve been together. Their quiet understanding of each other is something neither one will ever take for granted. To be loved is to be seen, to be wholly understood, and they’ve never taken their eyes off each other since the moment they met. 

But his thoughts were a bit too loud tonight, and the last thing Azriel ever wants is for Elain to worry. And so he says, “You’ve done more than enough already, my love, by simply being here with me. Let me wash, and then I’ll read with you, hm?” With a chaste kiss to her forehead, Azriel enters the shower and slides the door closed. 

Searing water pelts his skin when he steps underneath the shower head hanging from the ceiling. The droplets feel like rain, cleansing him of every violent act he willingly committed in the last several hours as part of his duty to the court. Hands braced against the wall, he silently watches the bloody water race down his body and swirl around the drain. His eyes flutter momentarily, allowing the heat to soak into his aching muscles. 

Behind him, a soft palm latches onto his bicep, turning him from the wall. Elain stands before him, wet and gloriously naked, with a bottle of shampoo in her other hand. She waits for his permission, letting her back hit the cool tile as he cages her against the opposite wall. When he nods, eyes never breaking from hers, she lathers the shampoo in her hands. 

“What are you thinking about?” Elain probes gently, delicate fingers working the soap into his hair. Azriel can’t stop himself from leaning into her touch, allowing her to take care of him in the way only she knows how. 

After a long moment, he whispers hoarsely, “Sometimes I wonder if this is who I am. That this job…this life…that in trying to rid the world of evil, I’ve become it.” His throat bobs once as a few tears slip down his cheeks. “Some days the thoughts are louder than others. Tonight they were relentless.” 

Elain listens intently, switching to a bar of soap to clean his chest, his arms, his back and legs, and finally his wings. All he can do is gaze at this beautiful female as he pours his heart out. He’s never been a man of many words, but Elain makes him want to talk forever. To share his joy, his pain. His hopes and fears. To shed his armor and bare his soul to her. 

“When I came home,” he breathes, fingers moving from the wall to trail down her cheek, her neck. Her skin flushes, and not from the heat of the water. Azriel chuckles softly. “All it took was one look from you and my head went quiet. The power you hold, Elain…not a single person in this world has ever been able to do what you’ve done for me.” 

She’s trying to focus on his words, the love that fills them, but gasps a breath as his hand skims down the side of her breast, warmth building in her core. He can scent it, she knows, by the way his nose flares slightly. “And how exactly do I look at you?” 

The corners of his lips twitch upward, palm finally resting against her hip. He tugs her closer so their chests touch, never wanting to have even a sliver of space between them. “Like I’m worthy,” he answers. “Of love and happiness and everything in between. All things that I’ve found once you waltzed into my life and chose me.” 

A choice that he would never truly believe was real, if only considering it a beautiful dream. 

A choice that Elain had made with such unwavering conviction, it had brought him to tears. 

A choice that allowed them to love each other openly, for the rest of their existence. 

“You’ve always been worthy, Azriel,” Elain says, mouth ghosting over his own as her hands tangle in the hair at the nape of his neck. “Your job is not who you are. You put on a mask and play a role, just like we all do. And underneath that mask, is the most gentle, kind-hearted, beautiful male. Choosing you was the easiest decision of my life because you made it easy, just by being who you are. And I will continue to choose you until my last breath.” 

He lets the tears fall freely now because vulnerability has never been something to shy away from, not with her. She tenderly wipes the tears with her thumbs, holding his face with a gentleness that shatters his heart.   

“I’ve waited for you for a very long time, Elain, to the point where I almost gave up on finding any semblance of love or joy or tranquility,” Azriel says truthfully. The sheer longing in his bright hazel eyes tugs on her heart strings. 

“Well, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting, handsome,” She replies playfully through a wet laugh, bumping her nose against his as tears mix with water. “But I hope you know that I would choose you in every single lifetime, no matter what. You are so completely mine, Azriel.” 

He kisses her. He kisses her hard and long and fierce, claiming her mouth with a passion solely reserved for her alone. His arms slide underneath her thighs, laughing quietly at her brief shriek as he lifts her against the wall, one hand gripping her wrist against the tile above her head. The wicked smile she flashes his way is as stunning as a sunflower field in springtime, and the only thought now in his mind is how utterly thankful he is for the beautiful female in front of him. 

“And you, Elain Archeron, are so completely mine.”