For Day 5: Chosen Family & Relationships, I knew I wanted to showcase their love. So, I decided to commission the lovely Emily to bring my vision to life. It started out as a silly edit of stockphoto images to reference, and she turned it into a beautiful, wholesome piece.
From left to right, we have Cassian with his and Nesta’s daughter, who I named Althea. Then obviously Rhysand and Nyx. Finally, we have Azriel and his daughter with my OC, Solara, named Tala. I already wrote a little bit about them for Azriel Appreciation Week back in November. I decided it'd be fun for Solara’s blonde genes to come through here. Recessive genes for the win!
Which ACOTAR Dad do you want to see the most? Cassian, Rhys, or Azriel?
The Fade eased open around Nehri, embracing her like she was always meant to be there. The one place which would always hold a space for her, in both body and soul. Here, life was free of complications. Here, she forgets the pain of her waking moments, free to slip beyond the veil, whispering with spirits of Wisdom and Compassion.
And yet, even the Fade was different at Skyhold.
It felt old. Older than itself, she supposed. The veil beckoned her across, trapping her in unending nightmares. The souls of those who died at Haven screaming for mercy, absolution. Those she couldn’t save, begging for the Maker’s forgiveness. She was tormented. They weren’t her people - they would never be her people. But she felt responsible for them. She was their leader, and she failed them.
As she was pulled back into consciousness, she began to cry. Warm, wet tears rolled down her cheeks, washing away the dark kohl that painted her eyes.
“Da’len, you are above this. They are not your people.” Purpose chastised her, and she could feel the tinge of disappointment pricking at the back of her mind.
“They trusted me, and I betrayed them. They put their faith in me, however misguided it may have been, and I failed them!” She sniffles softly, suffering in silence as she has always done.
“Your destiny is not to lead the humans, child. Do not concern yourself with them. Their lives mean nothing.” Purpose’s voice fades as Nehri brushes her out of her thoughts, sitting upright in bed as she catches a glimpse of flickering candlelight at her door.
“Vhenan?” Solas’ voice floats through the silence like music, low and soft, easing the tension in her muscles. She allows her head to fall back on the pillow, tying a bow in the loose ribbons of her nightgown.
“It was just a nightmare, Solas. I’m alright now.” She still hadn’t quite recovered, brushing off the remnants of tears onto her sleeve. She could still feel the burning behind her cheeks, the pain in her heart.
As he approaches, she rolls to the opposite side of the bed, pulling back the covers and inviting him in.
“Will you stay with me?” She asks, only half-pleading. Her body quivers, a side effect of the night terrors she’d been plagued by. He clasps his hand around hers, slipping in beside her. His arms found themselves snaking around Nehri’s waist, his face burrowed in her neck.
“Of course. I am happy to oblige.” He sighs into her skin, perfumed and soft, remarkably flawless. Her hair was fanned out against the pillow behind her, draping over his shoulders. It smelled of incense and spices, memories etched into his mind like runes in a stone.
“To be honest, I... am not sure if I’m alright. Not anymore.” A moment of vulnerability. One single sentence, spoken in confidence. Her soft voice faltering on syllables she was once sure of. It was progress, albeit slow. He was proud.
“You have done well, vhenan. Your grief will pass. For now, you must focus on the future.” He runs his fingers through her hair and down the curves of her waist, marveling at her softness. How many thousands of years had it been since he’d felt her lips against his? The gentle touch of her hand at his waist? Her smile, as she leads him through a dance she’d known since childhood?
“I suppose I should.” She tightens her grip on her hand, nails biting into her skin.
“Sleep, vhenan. You have been through enough.”
“And what if the nightmares return for me?”
“Hush, Marigold. I shall protect you.”
“Marigold? My, my, Solas. You’ve been spending far too much time with Varric.”
“It is a lovely nickname. I believe it suits you well.”
“I... think so too. Varric does have a way with words.” Nehri sighs deeply, curling her legs up. “Solas?”
“Hm?” Solas hums, carding his fingers through her hair. It was impossibly soft, midnight-black and sleek as it glittered in the candlelight.
Absolutely in love with this breathtaking piece of Solara and Azriel by @azeher ! I could not have asked for a better piece, and the fact that she was able to get it done earlier than expected for Azriel Week was genuinely so lovely. I adored working with her, and if you're looking to secure yourself some beautiful art, I recommend her wholeheartedly 🙏🏻 💙
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Happy Day Five of Azriel Appreciation Week: No Need for Poetry! Of course, I'm going to be biased, but my favorite Azriel ship is the one I made myself. 💗 I love their dynamic, the way they support, trust, balance, challenge, and simultaneously heal one another. I think there's something a little extra unique about staying with someone in their darkness instead of leading them out of it. Instead, waiting by their side until they're ready to go on their own until they can confidently take the same path you did. And when that path is just as bloody as theirs, and they love you so much...it's a way for them to realize that perhaps they were never the monster they once thought they were.
@azrielappreciationweek
If you want to see more of them, check out A Court of Storms and Ravens on AO3! ✨️🗡🐦⬛💙🖤⚔️✨️
Pairing: Azriel x OC | WC: 782 | Urban Fantasy AU | Warnings: Sex work/male escort content. very nsfw.
Summary:
There's an appeal to working at the Pearl, the female-centered pleasure hall that Rhysand Blackbeak runs and operates: being wanted.
Azriel Thornhill stumbled into working as an escort at the Pearl, finding something once long-empty becoming satisfied in him at the idea that his time and touch was worth hundreds of gold marks to his clients. And being a PI for his day job meant he could make sure those two lives didn't overlap in a way he wasn't prepared for.
What he couldn't prepare for was the bombshell attorney, Solara Ravencrest, entering the Pearl for a bachelorette party, and wanting nothing more than to be at her beck and call. He never thought he was the type to be swept off his feet, but this confident, wise-cracking, firebrand of a female could very well prove him wrong.
Cauldron help him.
taglist: @sonics-atelier
Immaculate.
It wasn’t a word often used to describe anyone who found themselves in the Velaris City pleasure halls, for work or play. It wasn’t how Azriel Thornhill described himself--not even on the best of days.
The Pearl was the only pleasure hall that primarily served females, and largely hired male escorts. It was a common attraction for brides having their bachelorette parties, as well as the occasional lonely regular. Azriel didn’t anticipate it being in business very long, but he’d underestimated the marketability of attractive males in the hands of someone like Rhysand Blackbeak.
What Azriel figured would only be gig work in-between private investigation contracts had become consistent, part-time employment. And all things considered, Rhysand wasn't bad to work for. He was firm about security, comfort, and boundaries. Cassian, the head of security, was a pretty stand-up guy.
The Pearl was discreet, sexy, and surprisingly “classy”, considering the more carnal, dangerous reputation that tended to haunt most pleasure businesses.
But still. The only thing immaculate Azriel had possibly ever seen was her.
She was tall with a thick head of wavy blonde hair, her bangs braided out of her eyes. Her pantsuit was crisp and clean, high-heeled shoes unscuffed. He didn't know a pitch black outfit could look so pure. But there she was, this perfect stranger that strode into the Pearl with a cluster of excited young females.
Immaculate.
The slow reverb of the song playing overhead felt all-too-fitting as Azriel watched her smirk at a comment one of the other females made. Her stride didn’t falter for a second, a smooth and confident gait.
“Another bachelorette party,” Eris Vanserra drawled from behind the bar. He idly polished a glass until it seemed to reflect the pink neon lights that illuminated the counter and stools.
Azriel nodded from where he leaned against the counter, eyes still soldered to the stranger. Eris’ amused chuckle sounded from over his shoulder. “I see your type just walked in.”
Azriel blew out a quiet, bemused snort. It wasn’t like Eris was wrong, after all. He did have a history of developing soft spots for confident blonde bombshells. If this one was even remotely fiery, he was done for. “Have I become so predictable?”
“Yes. You have.”
“And what do you predict I’ll do next?” Azriel asked, twisting at the middle to look over his shoulder toward Eris. The silver body chains adorning his chest shifted through the movement, the teal and blue overhead lights swimming with the pink neon dancing across the metal.
Eris smirked, setting down the heavy-bottomed glass on the bar and leaning back on his heels as he seemingly pondered. “You’re very quick to brood in most situations. Your whole appeal is just being quiet and attractive, as I’m sure you know. Then you wander over to the customer that’s spent the last hour eyeing you and shower them in your very stoic affections. So, something along those lines seems likely. Unless you decide to change your methods for this one, of course.”
Azriel’s answer was a slight, smug grin. “Why divert from a working system?”
“You assume she’s going to be checking you out in the first place.”
“You assume that my clients checking me out for an hour before I approach wasn’t something I purposely incited,” Azriel remarked.
Eris’ brows shot up, a wry amused smile twisting on his face. He only shook his head, a quiet chuckle leaving him as he turned to retrieve more ice. Azriel took Eris’ exit as his signal to get to work.
He offered an approving nod to Helion, one of the veteran performers that drew in many of their older regulars, working the stage as he usually did. Shirtless, hair unbound, and gold jewelry adorning his dark skin.
Helion threw a dazzling smile toward one of the females that had walked in with Her (the only thing Azriel could refer to the immaculate female as for the time being), and she beamed, leaning in as he climbed into the suspended aerial silk.
Azriel’s private room (outside of the room for entertaining clients, of course) was organized as meticulously as possible. He made his way over to his dressing table to inspect his makeup, and to equip a few more chunky onyx rings. His clients had always said they found his hands attractive, even despite the scarring partially because of the rings that adorned most of his fingers.
He grabbed one of his vape pens and took a drag one he deemed himself acceptable. Not to get truly high, only enough to create that comfortable fuzz in his mind that could absorb any anxiety like a wool blanket.
really didn't mean to post a new solriel sequence exactly 3 months after a different solriel sequence with completely opposite vibes welp,
hope you like my tits lmao
3 panel sequence of some sudden ascension to godhood, check it out early u freaks subscribestar.adult/posts/1670412 #kapricore.art
