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separatist-apologist · 5 months

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My Whole Life Is Ruined

Summary: When you hold me, it holds me together, and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Surprise @talons-and-teeth! I'm sorry for the wait- I was not your original secret santa. I pulled this together based on what I know about you and I hope you like it! @acotargiftexchange

Big thanks to @octobers-veryown for making a moodboard with practically no instructions other than one Taylor Swift lyric and the description "Azriel has been hiding the fact he's Gwyn's mate and they have sex about it."

Insomnia was nothing new.

Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she’d fully slept through the night. The past chased the present, running in circles as she ran after her tail, almost grasping it before she woke covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Sometimes, bathed in nothing but moonlight, Gwyn wondered if there would ever come a time when she didn’t dream of her sister, of a life long gone.

It didn’t rattle her as badly as it used to. Sitting in the bed Nesta had so graciously offered up, Gwyn pushed the blankets from her legs to let the cool, winter air caress her overheated skin. Leaving the library still felt like a picked over wound. She didn’t want to go back, cloistered away from her friends and the life she’d begun to enjoy living. That didn’t mean she wasn’t scared.

Anxiety seemed to thrum beside her heartbeat, a constant presence she could only just shake if she was otherwise occupied. Right then, in the dead of night, Gwyn felt it snake around her until it was wrapped tight around her throat, choking a scream that always seemed so close to escaping.

She didn’t bother changing out of her thin nightdress, certain neither Cassian or Nesta would be up this late. If they were even back—they’d gone to Hewn City that evening for some meeting with a Day Court prince, giving Gwyn full run of the House of Wind. Not that she did anything terribly interesting with all that power—Gwyn got a book and some hot chocolate and spent the night curled in a chair reading until she finally dragged herself into bed.

Maybe she should have trained on the roof first. Really worn herself down so her brain was too exhausted to conjure up memories of the past, all the while whispering of how she might have prevented it, if she’d only been stronger, smarter, cleverer. Forcing her to relive it, to pick it apart to see what could have been different.

That was exhausting, too.

Cold air hit her the moment she pushed open the door, howling a greeting that might have scared someone else off. Gwyn liked the biting cold, the raucous yelling, the silhouette of the mountains looming like shadows in the distance. A half moon poured light over the rooftop, causing sleeping weapons to glint beneath. Maybe, she thought ruefully, she should have put on socks. Hair caught against her lips, and as Gwyn worked to push it out of her face, wishing for a hair tie, too.

It wasn’t too late and yet she was already here, wasn’t she? Might as well just power through, ignoring her discomfort like she was so accustomed to. The bite of cold was a reminder she’d survived—she was alive. So what if it burned a little? Sometimes Gwyn thought she fought better when she was in pain.

And more often than not, she suspected she deserved to feel it. That the curling peace was a mistake and everyone was going to realize what an imposter she was. They’d tell her she didn’t belong with them and cast her back out. Gwyn was always just waiting for it, a hammer that might fall at any given moment.

A blade just against her neck, never quite striking.

Gwyn pulled out a dagger, her favored weapon, and held it for a moment in her hand. Nesta was all brute strength, and Emerie terrifying yet easy grace, but Gwyn liked to be the shadow in the dark. The knife at someone's side rather than a screaming sword coming for a person's throat. While Nesta and Emeries radiated the kind of beauty that made men cower, Gwyn liked to think she was sweeter, more unassuming. People looked at Nesta, at Emerie, and were taken by their perfection.

They looked at Gwyn and wondered why she was with them. So Gwyn trained harder, made herself someone that couldn’t be ignored. Not forever, anyway. She was good at hiding, besides, taking to trees, blending into the background so often that on more than one occasion, Cassian and Nesta didn’t realize Gwyn was in the room until she cleared her throat.

Unbalanced, Gwyn took a second dagger and for a moment, was the wind itself. Recalling the movements Azriel had been teaching her, Gwyn stepped like a dance, twisting her body and slashing her blades against invisible foes.

A real ones, too. A shadow moved from the edge of the ring, catching her by surprise. Gwyn darted, and just as Azriel had taught her, grabbed them, slamming their body to the ground. It was thunder the way that massive, familiar form crashed against the world, a mighty god dragged from the heavens themselves.

Azriel groaned, eyes closed even as his hands grabbed her waist, holding her knee painfully against his ribs. “That was good,” he gasped, fingers curling into her skin.

“I’m so sorry,” she replied, dropping the blade she’d pressed to his throat. A thin line of blood snaked over golden, tattooed skin, staining the rather lovely black jacket he was wearing. Why was he up here, she wondered? Shouldn’t he be enjoying himself with his friends and family?

Azriel swallowed hard, opening hazel eyes that cut through the otherwise oppressive dark to look at her.

“I’m not.”

And then he released her, letting her scramble backwards, heart thumping in her chest. Azriel didn’t move, wings spread wide around against the ground. He looked like a fallen angel and Gwyn was awed at the sight, the realization that it had been her who’d felled him. He was looking right back at her, his expression clouded by shadow. Was he angry? He said he wasn’t, but surely he didn’t appreciate being assaulted in his own home.

Not that she saw much of him since she’d moved in. Azriel, who maintained a bedroom in the House of Wind, was suddenly gone and when Gwyn was really down, she sometimes thought it was because he didn’t like being around her. Here he was, though, clambering to his feet, his eyes sliding down her body. She could feel the heat of them like he was touching her skin and was grateful for a sudden burst of wind hitting her like a bucket of ice water.

Careful, she warned herself.

It was hard, though. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful Azriel was. She wasn’t stupid. It didn’t hurt that in her worst moment, Azriel’s had been the very first she’d seen. A savior—a dark angel, come to wreak bloody vengeance on her sister's behalf. It had been Morrigan who’d taken her away to safety, but when Gwyn thought about how she’d escaped, she always remembered Azriel’s curved, lethal blade, sliding cleanly through the bodies of the same males who had killed her sister.

She’d always been grateful to him for it, even if she’d never tell him. He’d never once looked at her like he remembered, had never betrayed an ounce of pity. She’d expected him to say something back when he’d first joined their training, wary and distant. And maybe he knew, because he kept his distance until it was safe, had held himself at an arm's length and let her decide how much or little of him she wanted.

The problem was Azriel himself. Outside of being the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, he was just nice. Not in the way Cassian was, with big smiles and silly jokes, but with serious eyes and a dagger in hand, forcing her to move again and again and again. Your steps are off, Gwyn—you’ll get yourself killed that way. Eyes on your opponent, don’t look away. Hold your breath, don’t let them know you’re there.

Because he knew it mattered to her. That she wouldn’t be caught off guard ever again, that Gwyn would never let someone hurt her. Often, she wondered if he didn’t understand that pain, if it didn’t mirror some tragedy of his own. They didn’t talk about it—they didn’t need to. It was an understanding between them, something so intimate she would never share it with another living soul.

She kept waiting for Azriel to step back, to tell her she’d done enough, that she should finish with Cassian. He never did. Even when he was gone, Gwyn practiced knowing he’d want to see the progress she’d made while he was gone. And when he returned, he’d wait on the roof even when she’d flippantly told him it would be easier to just send word via letter.

I don’t mind waiting.

Those words still felt so charged to her. Like he was trying to say something else, eyes glittering and bright like the stars overheard. Gwyn pulled herself from her thoughts to look up at Azriel looming overhead, his wings flared around him as if he was trying to make himself seem larger. It was working—he was massive, muscular and tall and just like before, half fallen angel, half terrifying god come to earth so he might reign.

“You look cold,” Azriel commented, caught looking at her.

Gwyn put her hands on her hips. So what if he was? “I’m not.”

“Bullshit.”

Smothering a smile, Gwyn asked with faux outrage, “Are you calling me a liar?”

She swore the corners of his lips twitched. “To your face, even.”

“The cold doesn’t bother me,” Gwyn said, shifting from one leg to another, a gesture he seemed to register with sharp-eyed interest. Proof, she realized as his fingers began making quick work of his jacket. “No, that’s not—”

“Suck it up,” was Azriel’s dark voiced response, draping the warm jacket against her shoulders, leaving himself only in a black shirt stretched over his muscular torso. His eyes slid back down to her legs, lips flattening as he realized she was without shoes, too. “You’ll catch your death out here.”

Gwyn could smell the heady, masculine scent of him coming from the fabric, her arms far too small for the large holes. Still, she didn’t protest, turning to look toward the outline of the mountains instead.

“Maybe. But what a way to go.”

“It’s hardly heroic to die from the cold,” Azriel murmured, turning to follow her gaze. Did he know what she was thinking? How they had nearly died in the blood rite, thrown in wearing only a thin night dress against well-armed warriors? She wondered if Azriel would have found that heroic, even if it had been the cold that had gotten them.

Gwyn blew out a breath, the steam of air curling between them as one of his shadows darted out, illuminated by starlight. It wasn’t the first time and she wondered if they thought she, too, had a shadow for them to interact with.

Or if it meant something else.

Something more.

“Inside,” Azriel finally said, a gust of wind ruffling his night dark hair.

“You’re fussy tonight,” she grumbled, not protesting when his fingers pressed against the small of her back, pushing her toward the door. Heat pulsated from the touch, settling low in her stomach. “Did something happen?”

Azriel pulled open the door with his free hand, his touch never quite leaving. “No. Hewn City is unchanging.”

She glanced up at him, the light softening the harsh lines of his face. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s predictable.”

“I want to see it,” Gwyn declared, though in truth she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. Still, the corners of Azriel’s mouth twitched a bit, as if the whole thing amused him.

“You would devour them,” was his easy, good-natured response. “To their endless delight.”

“And yet I’ve been snubbed yet again,” she teased, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Do I file my complaint with you…or…?”

“You were spared the grating presence of Vanserra,” Azriel said, cocking his head with a half smile. “But I will pass along your discontent to the High Lord.”

“Be sure that you do,” Gwyn replied, grinning by the time Azriel deposited her into a chair in the study. He didn’t go far, sitting on the arm, his wings draped behind them. She could see the flexing muscle of his thigh beneath his well-tailored pants. If she’d wanted, she could have touched him.

It was obscene how badly she wanted to. How she had to clench her fingers to fists to keep from reaching out, well aware that Azriel would withdraw entirely and, perhaps, never speak to her again. He’d been nothing if not unfailingly polite, besides…though…he had been looking at her in the clingy, short nightdress, hadn’t he?

Just because you were cold, her mind reminded her. After all, she was still wearing his jacket. Gwyn shrugged out of it, heat blooming over her cheeks as she shoved it into his lap. There. She’d gotten to touch him without him knowing and give him back his jacket before she convinced herself to keep it.

And possibly sleep in it.

Azriel arched a dark brow, hazel eyes staring at the rumpled fabric now balled in his lap. “What did the jacket do to offend you?” he asked, taking it in broad, callused hands. He’d removed his siphons, leaving the scarred skin wholly on display. She wondered what had happened to him—and why.

If he’d ever gotten his revenge for it.

“It’s yours—that’s enough,” she replied flippantly. Holding her gaze, Azriel picked up the jacket and brought it to his nose. Time seemed to stop, frozen entirely as she watched him do this.

And he watched her, daring her to say something. She opened her mouth, gaping, only to close it.

And Azriel smiled. Broad and unrestrained, as if he were so delighted he couldn’t help himself. Tilting his head toward the roof, he murmured, “House—some tea, if you don’t mind.”

Of course the house didn’t mind. Two cups of steaming tea rattled on the coffee table before them, complete with sugar and honey, if either of them wanted it.

Gwyn didn’t think she could pick up a cup without betraying the rattle of her hands. Why? Azriel had discarded the jacket casually, tossing it to another chair like it was uninteresting to him. And was he closer, now? His thigh was, she was certain, but had his arm always been behind her. If she moved a few inches, he could have slid into the seat to join her.

He could pull you into his lap if he wanted.

Which, of course, he didn’t

Didn’t he?

“Why are you here?” she asked, hating that breathless quality of her voice. Azriel heard it, too, head snapping to the side, nose flared as though searching for something she couldn’t place.

“I like to be near you,” he replied. He could have thrown her across the room and surprised her less. Once again, Gwyn opened her mouth only for no sound to leave her throat.

“You—you’re never here,” she finally managed. Azriel leaned forward, the faelights gilding the dark ink of his tattoos scrawled over his biceps. He took one of the cups and handed it to her, fingers brushing her own.

“I can’t stand being around you,” was his maddening, level response.

Gwyn’s stomach sank. “What?”

She couldn’t drink—not when such a strange admission hung between them. Azriel, so unused to verbosity, was now forced to explain himself. It occurred to her just as he turned fully to look at her, some of the color drained from his otherwise beautiful face, that perhaps he wanted this confrontation. She didn’t, though, and wished she could have told him so. Things were fine between them—distant, maybe, and filled with a lopsided yearning on her end, but that was better than whatever he was about to do.

Gwyn had the distinct feeling Azriel was about to crush her. Emotionally ruin her. Destroy her so recklessly there would be no coming back.

“You still don’t feel it?” he asked instead, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “After all this time?”

A new fear speared through her gut. There was only one thing Azriel could possibly feel—and one thing she could possibly not. Gwyn had to set the shaking cup of tea down before bolting from her chair, arms wrapped around her chest.

“You don’t feel anything,” she declared, deciding if she felt nothing, neither did Azriel.

Pain lanced across his expression, replaced by grim determination. As he stood, Gwyn knew Azriel wasn’t going to let it go until they both felt exactly as he did—until she felt the mating bond.

Gwyn shook her head, backing away as he advanced. “Don’t do this, Azriel—”

“Is it that terrible, then?” he asked her, his low words filled with a familiar emotion. One she recognized all too well—the loathing, the self-hatred, the expectation that of course she would reject him.

“It’s—” Gwyn couldn’t breathe for the closeness of him, for the wanting to touch him. And maybe she did feel it, in her way. Had felt it the moment he’d strode into that cursed, wrecked room looking like the god of vengeance. She’d merely been too hurt to know it, too broken, too emotionally devastated. He should have frightened her and he never had.

Even then, towering over her with his muscular frame, Gwyn didn’t flinch away. She merely met his gaze with blazing defiance.

“You’re wrong,” she told him, keeping her voice light as she pushed at his chest so she could slip around him. “Or mistaken. There is no bond and I’m certain if you saw a healer, they’d—” Azriel grabbed her wrist, spinning her so her back was pressed to the floral papered wall behind her. Dipping his head, Azriel ran his nose the length of her neck.

“You’re no mistake, Gwyn.”

“I am,” she whispered without meaning to. Azriel could do so much better. Surely…surely he wanted better. What had that been like for him, she wondered, and before she could stop herself, she added, “When did you feel it?”

Something primal flared in those bright eyes of his. “Dinner with Nesta and Cassian. You touched my hand and I…” Holding up the offending hand, Azriel flexed his fingers in memory. “I felt the snap.”

That had been almost a year. It had been the last time Azriel had dinner with all of them, and right after she’d formally moved into the House of Wind. Gwyn still remembered that night—Azriel had bolted before dessert, murmuring something about needed to talk to Rhys. Gwyn had thought nothing of it—might never have thought about it again had he not pinned her against a wall to declare that had been the moment he’d felt a mating bond snap.

“We’ve been training together for months,” she replied with no small amount of outrage. He’d been keeping this secret for that long?

“I thought you’d feel it,” Azriel all but growled, eyes bouncing over her face. “And when you didn’t…”

“Rhys knows?”

“And Cassian—”

“So Nesta, too?!”

Gwyn shoved him again, harder this time. Azriel let her, she suspected, stepping back so she could have some breathing space. “They all know but I don’t.”

“And you’re taking the knowledge so well,” Azriel replied with a bite of sarcasm.

She whirled, wishing she had a dagger in hand even has the dried blood from his healed wound still taunted her. “I think I deserved to know before Cassian.”

“I needed his help,” Azriel admitted, running a hand over his mouth. “I needed to know how he managed it.”

“How difficult could it be,” she asked flippantly, intending to leave him there so she could think. Foolish to turn her back on a predator. Azriel had her again, wrapped in one strong arm, the other holding her jaw so she had to look at him.

“Hell,” he rasped, his anguish plain. “Every minute of it has been hell.”

In Gwyn’s defense, she managed one, final, protest. “It’s just—”

His mouth covered hers before she could finish that statement, could say what they both knew she’d been thinking. As if he found the words so abhorrent he wouldn’t hear them, would swallow them until he’d snuffed them from their very existence.

Gwyn forgot what she’d been about to say at all. She’d thought about what it might be like to kiss him. If his mouth would be soft or rough, if he kissed like he fought or if there was passion bubbling beneath his icy exterior. She hadn’t been prepared for what it would feel like or how desire would overtake her so thoroughly she didn’t care about anything else. Were those her hands cupping his neck? Her lips hungrily kissing him back like a crazed, desperate creature?

Her tongue meeting his own, her legs moving until he had her back against the wall so he could press the length of his body against hers?

There was only one thought in her name, an echo repeated over and over. Mate. Mate. Mate.

Maybe he should have just kissed her at that dinner. Skipped the yearning, the anguish, the uncertainty. At least they would have been kissing, anyway. Gwyn forgot herself entirely, nails digging against his shoulder until Azriel helpfully hoisted her into the air so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

“Don’t talk about my mate like that,” he panted, dragging his teeth against her neck. “I love her.”

Gwyn whimpered. What did she say to that? As it turned out—nothing. Azriel kissed her again, sparing them both whatever incoherent nonsense might have tumbled from her lips. She might have sworn she loved him too, if only to convince him to keep kissing her like he was.

Gwyn was certain Azriel’s kiss had ruined her life. How was she supposed to go back to things as they were before? It wasn't knowing that he was her mate, but knowing the way his hands felt cupped against her face and the way wildfire sparked in her blood when his tongue slid into her mouth?

The worst of it was when his hands left her ass, letting her slide down the hard slab of his body before she was ready. He pulled away, lips swollen and eyes wild, to take a healthy step away from her, though it seemed to take an immense amount of effort. For her part, she kept herself pressed to the wall, unsure what was happening.

“You know now,” Azriel managed, his voice hoarse, “and that’s…that’s all I wanted. I ah…I should go before—”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, strangely hurt by this new rejection. Gwyn knew all about mating bonds. What fae didn’t? Before she’d come here, she’d once dreamt of her own mate, giggling with her sister in their bunks as they imagined what that person might be like. If they existed at all, given the rarity of such a thing. It was almost funny that he’d been right here all along, close enough she could literally touch.

And he was going to leave? He didn’t want to accept it? Did she? It was all happening so fast but of course you didn’t reject a mate. She could see the wariness on his face, could watch in real time as he pulled up his defenses as she realized that yes. That was exactly his expectation.

Why? She knew from Nesta’s stories that Azriel was well sought after. And she wasn’t blind. What female didn’t dream of a male with his bone structure? He was powerful and close to the High Lord, and beyond all that, Azriel was kind. A genuinely good person, the sort of male one could spend centuries with if they wanted.

What could she even offer him? Gwyn’s thoughts raced, listing all the reasons he ought to have stopped, why keeping this a secret made so much sense. She didn’t notice Azriel creeping closer and closer until his fingers were under her chin, lifting her face so she had to look at him.

“You’re doing it again,” he murmured, his voice dark and dangerous. “Thinking unkind thoughts about my mate.”

“You can’t tell me what to think,” she shot back, her own voice trembling a little. He was so certain, so unbothered and in her entire life, had anyone ever immediately felt that way about her?

Nesta and Emerie. Catrin.

Azriel.

“You have it all wrong,” Azriel murmured and she wondered if perhaps he could read her mind. “It is you who could do so much better.”

His words drew a gust of laughter from her lips. The mother had certainly chosen well, putting the two of them together. What a pair—she wondered who would relent first? Her, or Azriel? Who would believe they deserved a mating bond first? It occurred to Gwyn, as she reached for his arm to pull him closer, that she was a shade too competitive—she wanted it to be him who broke first. Who relented first, who believed he was worthy, was deserving.

And she could see, from that golden glint burning in his own gaze, that he was thinking the exact same thing.

“You’re stupid,” she whispered, surging up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. She could taste the smile spreading over his face, sweet against the warm heat of his mouth. It took her an embarrassing amount of time to realize he wasn’t smiling because she’d told him to stop talking, but because she was kissing him. Gwyn hadn’t even considered not kissing.

He was her mate, after all. He was hers. She felt that the way she felt her own heart, the possession, the desire, the heat. She didn’t feel the cord the way everyone spoke of, but perhaps that was mere metaphor. After all, Gwyn believed Azriel wouldn’t lie to her about something so life altering.

Besides. She liked kissing him, new as it was. Azriel was unhurried and thorough, just like every other task she’d ever seen him undertake. And for the first time in a long time, she wondered what it would be like if he paid her that sort of attention in the bedroom. They stood there like that, his arm keeping her on her toes, steady against his warm, solid body. Momentarily, Gwyn wondered what might happen if Nesta and Cassian were to come in and decided she didn’t care.

How many times had she walked in on them in far more compromising positions, besides?

Tiny steps had Gwyn flush against the wood wall, pressed against Azriel’s hard body and oh. He wanted her. Wanted her in a way that emptied her mind of all other thought beyond the desire to touch him.

And she was allowed, she realized with giddiness. He belonged to her. It was a possessive thought that overrode everything else, including all her good sense. He was hers.

“Mine,” she whispered into his mouth, not meaning to. Azriel groaned, tangling a hand in her hair to tilt back her head, his tongue delving back between her teeth to really taste her. Without the leathers he usually wore, it was surprisingly easy to find the golden buttons on his jacket, undoing them before Azriel’s own brain seemed to catch up with what was happening.

His wings flared, enveloping around them for a moment as he pulled back, his breathing heavy.

“Cassian will be home soon,” he whispered, holding her close against him as if he expected his friend to take her away. “Nesta too.” “You have a bedroom here, right?” Gwyn said with more daring than she felt. Azriel’s once half-lidded eyes flew open, those hazel eyes searching her own.

“I do,” he whispered, swallowing audibly. “There’s no rush—”

“Please?”

One moment she’d been standing there, her hand flat against the white, linen shirt Azriel wore beneath his jacket and the next her feet were in the air, her body cradled against him as he walked.

“I can’t think when you’re around,” Azriel was saying, his steps echoing against the wood. “Can’t think just looking at you. Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and this will have all been a dream.”

“It’s real,” she replied, pressing her lips to his neck. “I’m real. We’re real.”

He shuddered, all but running up a flight of stairs. There was no reaction when his wing clipped a door frame nor did he say a word when he had to use his nice shoe to slam his bedroom door shut. Gwyn wasn’t given the opportunity to really look around his space, either—though it seemed sparse and filled with dark, moody colors.

Azriel had her on the bed, his own body over top her own before she could exhale the breath she’d just taken.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, the maddening male. She would have told him she didn’t want him to, but he was kissing her again, his burning lips all but bruising her own. Drawing a leg up, Gwyn could line up their otherwise mismatched bodies so he was pressed exactly where she wanted him.

They were going to do this. She wanted to do this. When she managed to take a breath, the taste of blood faint against her tongue, she rasped, “Take this off.”

Azriel was on his knees in a moment, shucking off his jacket before all but ripping off his shirt, too. There in the dark with nothing but silvery moonlight to illuminate him, Gwyn was allowed to really look at him.

He didn’t move, a lock of dark hair half obscuring the intensity of his gaze. “All of it,” she decided before she lost her nerve.

Azriel cocked his head, his lips pursed as though he’d tell her no.

“Please,” she added.

Azriel groaned again, softer this time. Somewhere in the house, a door slammed closed and a mingling of male and female voices rose like music, a soothing hum in the background as Azriel slid off the bed entirely.

Wings tucked tightly against his toned back, he quietly locked his door before turning back to her. “We don’t have to,” he said, his fingers hovering over the laces of his pants. Gwyn had a suspicion Azriel would spend the next century saying this and she’d spend the next century reassuring him that she wanted all of it. All of him.

Maybe he’d realize in the morning when she snuck into the kitchen and begged the house for his favorite meal. She had no idea what it was, but surely the magic that governed this place did? Would he eat it from her hands? Or would he balk, certain this was just another dream?

“I know,” she said, leaning up on her elbows. “Take it all off, anyway.”

Gwyn knew what Azriel was wondering but her past was murky—forgotten in the dark, the ugly replaced with his easy, unassuming beauty. Still, she held her breath as he undressed entirely, drinking in the sight of him. This was the male she’d knocked to the ground, the very same that could kill another person without a second thought.

Underneath the thick, armored leathers and weapons lay just a male made of skin and bone. Gwyn’s eyes traced the tattoos adorning his shoulders and chest, the intricate swirls snaking up his neck and vanishing behind his back. Every inch of him was muscled, softer now that he was relaxed and still present just below the warm brown of his flesh.

And between his legs…

Gwyn giggled. She couldn’t help herself. It was so big—surely they weren’t supposed to be that large? That thick? There was an air of male pride shimmering around him, his legs spread a little wider as if to say, drink it all in.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, his voice a dark, teasing growl. Prowling forward, Gwyn’s heart spiked loud enough he must have heard.

“I wasn’t prepared for…” For what? For him? Azriel was so quiet, so unassuming…she just assumed if he had all that going on he’d brag a little more? Swagger about the way Cassian always was?

“I’d be a poor mate if I left you wanting,” he replied, his eyes glazed over once his knees hit the edge of the bed. Perhaps it was the sight of her, still dressed, scrambling on her hands and knees so she could crawl toward him. She just wanted to touch, to feel if his cock was as hard as it looked.

Azriel sucked in a breath when her fingers curled around the base of his shaft, just barely touching. Looking up, she murmured, “Is this what you like?”

“I like you,” he replied, scooping up her hair in his hands as Gwyn stroked him experimentally. He choked out a sound, his heartbeat thudding in her ears. She supposed that was her answer—he liked the way she touched him.

Pride filled her chest knowing she could please her mate, even with something as simple as touching him. Gwyn stroked again, letting her wrist twist at the end as her eyes refused to leave his face.

“Gods,” he whispered, his wings tightening against his back. “I’ve imagined…Gwyn…”

She was allowed a third pass before he pushed her back, her clothes pulled off her body so quickly all she managed was to lift her hips and raise her arms.

“Do you know how many nights I’ve laid in this exact bed and imagined you just like this?” Azriel began, his voice a dark, sultry whisper. “Splayed out…naked…undone?”

“No,” she squeaked out in response, half embarrassed to be undressed before him. Azriel’s gaze burned against her skin, warming a path from her collarbone to her thighs.

“Would you like to know what I dream about at night?” he questioned, sinking to his knees so he was eye level with the edge of the bed.

Arousal ribboned through her, making a fool out of her. “Yes,” she replied, strangely excited to be the object of this man’s fantasies.

Strong, scarred fingers curled around her thighs, pushing them wider before hooking them over his shoulders. He was staring at her cunt, now, studying her like she was some priceless piece of art.

“I dream of tasting you,” Azriel breathed, the warmth of his breath fanning against her. Gwyn squirmed when he kissed her inner thigh—the left, and then the right—before using his tongue to lightly take that first taste he’d been dreaming of. Gwyn might have asked him how he liked it had it not felt so good.

Besides, she knew he liked it—Azriel groaned loudly, spreading her apart wider with his fingers so he could taste her everywhere. Gone was his slow exploration, his desire to take his time. All of it had been replaced with the animal kneeling between her legs, licking and touching her cunt like his life depended on it.

All traces of her embarrassment evaporated, leaving only instinct behind. Gwyn surrendered to the urge, letting desire wash over her until it was all she knew. “Don’t stop,” she breathed, well aware he probably couldn’t.

Azriel pushed a finger into her gently, moaning at whatever he felt. Gwyn hadn’t considered what it would feel like to share space with him—to feel him inside her own body but now…

“Az,” she panted, her hips rolling against his mouth and hand. She wanted him to stop licking, to replace his fingers with his cock. Heat was building in her chest beyond simple arousal, heavy like a chain.

Unbreakable.

A bond. A real thread she could follow straight to the male between her legs. It reverberated and then snapped just as Azriel sucked her clit into his mouth, eliciting a scream that was half his name. Could he feel it too? No—his had snapped months ago and he’d just been living with it.

Gwyn couldn’t see how. If she didn’t have him right that second she might go insane. Reaching for his powerful biceps, Gwyn tried to pull him off her but the waves of pleasure made her hands shake.

“Az,” she tried again, his name a breathy moan against her lips. Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding against him in what must have seemed like encouragement to keep going. Maybe it was—she didn’t try very hard to get him off her.

Azriel managed a third finger, a whine slipping from his throat at the effort. Gwyn just barely registered any of it, her body jerking a second time from pleasure so bright and heady she could have died from it. It was too much—Gwyn was burning, was in free-fall with no one to catch her.

Digging her nails into his skin, she yanked at him. Azriel emerged, lips wet and eyes wild. “Please,” she heard herself saying, the magic words that, apparently, could convince him to do anything she wanted. “I need you.”

His fingers were wet as they skimmed the side of her body, palm grasping her breast before his lips found hers. He tasted sweet and she supposed it was herself, truly, she was tasting on his tongue. He was hurried, his desperation making him sloppy. When his teeth clashed with her own, nipping the sensitive skin of her bottom lip, Gwyn had enough.

“Az—”

“Don’t beg me,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against her own. Caressing her cheek, Azriel added, “I’ll do whatever you want. You don’t have to beg.”

“I feel it,” she replied, running her hand up and down his spine. “It’s a real thread.”

Azriel exhaled with relief, a smile ghosting his pretty face. Whispering something that sounded like gratitude toward the gods, he adjusted his body until she felt the blunt head of his cock pressed against her. How had he stood it? The waiting, the wanting, the utter need that Gwyn was all but drowning in. If they didn’t do this, she thought she might die from it.

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you.” It wasn’t a request, though Gwyn had no intention of telling him anything. She expected a little pain, expected little pleasure. Why else had he used his mouth first?

Gwyn had read enough books to know that there was blood and pain and so when Azriel slid himself an inch into her, she braced herself against him, her nails digging into his biceps. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for even a hint of discomfort. There was something reassuring about knowing he’d stop if she wanted. That he cared if she enjoyed herself.

Gwyn didn’t need a book to know not all males cared about such things.

Azriel took his time—like he knew he had eons of it, that he didn’t have to rush. Gwyn loved him for it, eyes burning with unshed tears at the thought. She’d tell him all this later, when they’d had a chance to breathe and eat and really talk about everything that had otherwise been left unsaid. Instead she dragged her lips down his neck and focused on the feeling of his cock in her body, pushing further and further without any of the accompanying pain she’d expected.

She was slick enough that he felt less like an intrusion and more like a welcomed guest, and once he’d seated himself entirely, it seemed as though they’d been made like two puzzle pieces destined to fit.

It took a moment to get used to the stretch, to breathe despite the feeling of fullness. Azriel gave it to her instinctively, as if he knew exactly what she both wanted and needed. There was that same sense of I have all the time in the world, despite her knowing he was desperate. A bead of sweat slid from his temple, rolling down his neck and his arms shook from restraint.

He didn’t move.

Not until her mouth made its way to his collarbone and she whispered, “Give me more.” He groaned loud enough to shatter the silence, pulling himself out with a slowness that bordered on madness.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck. “I’m losing my mind.”

She couldn’t help the exhaled smile, raking her fingers through his hair. “Did you dream of this, too?”

“No,” he admitted with a grunt, sliding his cock back into her body. “I didn’t dare.”

“Why?”

“Couldn’t,” he managed, thrusting again with a little more intensity. “Would have gone crazy from wanting you. Surprised you couldn’t smell it on me.”

As if she would have known what she was smelling. There was no point in telling him so—not as Azriel confessed the depths of his devotion, the lengths he’d gone to give her time, space, and whatever else she’d wanted. Would he have continued to do so forever?

Gwyn kissed his cheek. “I want you. I want this.”

He groaned again, sliding his hand between their otherwise flushed bodies to rub at her still swollen clit. She’d been half distracted by his words to pay attention to her body but right then, when his thumb began making tight circles, Gwyn was pulled back under the depths of shadowed darkness, half consumed by the male laying on top of her.

Their mouths met, messy and unrestrained. Strange how kissing merely heightened the pleasure coiling through her—Gwyn wouldn’t have guessed that. In her books, everything was so neat and clinical. They kissed, they touched, they fucked with nothing in between. In real life, sex was messier, more fluid. Or maybe she and Azriel merely had more passion than the people in her stories.

Those love stories had once brought her such joy. Now they seemed dimmed in comparison to what was happening to her and her own feelings.

“I need to feel you come,” he whispered, betraying how close he must have been. Gwyn felt the same way. She needed to feel him, needed to see him wholly unraveled. All because of her—no one else was allowed to know what he sounded like, what he looked like. They got control, they got the ice but she got the heat, the impulsivity—everything he was, everything he’d ever been.

Gwyn came to the thought of that future, tightening around him as her back arched her into his chest, offering very little give. Azriel kissed her, swallowing the sound of her moans greedily. They belonged to him, anyway.

He came mere seconds later, his own noise of pleasure delightfully loud for a male that was so often silent. Gwyn kept herself wrapped tight around him, arms winding against his neck, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. His pumping was erratic, uncontrolled and a little desperate. Gwyn was obsessed with this side of him—wanted more of it.

Azriel didn’t withdraw when he was done, his heart thudding against her breast. “It’s not enough, is it?” she whispered, thinking they both ought to feel sated. She didn’t. In her books, the heroine was always spent, the hero falling asleep not long after. The pair would wake in each other's arms, content and glowing from the night before.

Gwyn wanted to shove him to the floor and climb atop him. Wanted to hear him beg, too—wanted more of the whimpering, the groaning and everything in between.

“It was never going to be,” he panted, kissing her softly.

“How long will it last?” she wondered, brushing a damp lock of hair from his face.

“Eternity, I imagine,” he replied, his eyes burning with that same unflinching intensity. “For me, at least.”

Gwyn’s heart exploded, racing in her throat. “Are you hungry?” she whispered, deciding she couldn’t wait for the morning. She wanted to do this right now. Wanted him to know that this meant something to her, even if she was scared, too.

Azriel went still. “There’s no rush—”

“That’s yes or no, Azriel.”

A smile broke over his face. “Starving,” he admitted in that dark, sultry voice.

“You have to get up,” she reminded him, pushing half-heartedly at his shoulder. Azriel lowered his mouth for another kiss.

“In a minute.”

Strange how a minute could stretch.

Into lifetimes, even.

#gwynriel #I DID IT

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famouscyclenerd · 15 days

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"Stay out of it. She's not ready, and neither is he, no matter how many presents he brings." - ACOFAS

(Their book was not next)

"Let's focus on helping one sister before we start on the other."

"Shall I tend to my little garden forever?"

"He'd never once in the two years he'd known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court (the Night Court) ... it sucked the life from her."

"But Elain ... The Spring Court had been made for someone like her."

"With a new war possible and Briallyn up to her bullshit with Koschei, we need a strong ally. We need the Spring Court's forces."

"We need to tell him the news, and permanently station him (Lucien) at the Spring Court to contain any damage and to be our eyes and ears."

"Lucien can't be entirely trusted anymore."

"He should have asked someone before coming here how much time remained before Vassa would be forced to return to the continent - to the sorcerer-lord at a remote lake who held her leash, and had allowed her to leave only temporarily, as part of a bargain Feyre's father had struck."

"Lucien stared out the window - as if he could see the lake across a sea and a continent. As if he were setting his target."

"Find me when you wish to begin."

-- *contains minor HOFAS spoilers*--

There are so many more quotes I could include, but yeah. I just feel like elucien's book has been set up so perfectly in SF. And from what I've read, I just cannot comprehend how their book won't be next.

Vassa's time is extremely limited and the matters with Koschei seems rather urgent. Especially Tamlin and the Spring Court! We have Lucien back in Spring, who we appearently cannot entirely trust, and then we have Elain and how the Spring Court was made for someone like her. Who doesn't fit in the Night Court. Who finally wishes to spring into action.

Yes, Azriel had his own bc. But Elain was in that very bc as well as being mentioned in feysand's bc. She and Lucien were mentioned actually. Azriel was not.

Elain was also absent in HOFAS even though (as of SF) she no longer wishes to remain a passive character. It takes place months after the events of SF and (from what we've gathered) it doesn't seem like Azriel has it all figured out yet. Gwyn also returned to to library which, to me, seems like their story is put on hold... for now. Especially with Elain (finally) wanting to take action.

So my guess is that elucien's book is next and takes place before/during HOFAS, which would explain Elain's absence due to her not residing in the Night Court while Bryce was there.

While gwynriel's book happens during/after the events of HOFAS.

Having Azriel's book last is also a smart move from a marketing perspective since he is by far the most popular character. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#i really don't mind having az' book first #it's a win for me regardless #this is just my opinion #elucien #gwynriel #pro elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #pro elain #acotar

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greenleaf777 · 1 month

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Friendly reminder to my fellow elriels that just because the gwyriel fandom is noisy does not make it canon. Yall should seen the ouat swan queen yappers, they were nothing in the show but screechy fans.

Gwynrel doesn’t exist in the books. Az and gwyn have maybe 4 or 5 whole scenes. Neither gwyn nor azriel have shown ANY interest in each other. If they were supposed to be mates it would be obvious, they would spend time together, az would go feral when gwyn was in danger. SJM wouldn’t write a main characters mate in hardly half of book 6 where they still barely know each other at the end of the book.

Az has all that with elain in the actual books tho

#elriel #anti gwynriel #anti-gwynriel #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elain x azriel #azriel #elain archeron #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x elain

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i-sneezed · 5 months

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Some Elriel evidence that doesn't get much attention.

First of all, if you're just having fun with your ships, you do you, man. I'm not here to rain on your parade.

However, there are so many people out there that are CONVINCED of Elucien/Gwynriel that I can't take it anymore and I have to throw in my two cents, so here we go. I'm gonna break it down by ship.

Elucien

There's no way, bro. And we can set aside the fact that if that ship were to sail it would be the same sort of love story as Nessian (reluctant mates).

The most obvious thing to discuss here is that Elain is clearly not interested. And neither, to some extent, is Lucien.

Let's look back to ACOWAR when Lucien talks to Elain in the library. He thinks about Jesminda. "[She] had loved him without question, without hesitation. She had chosen him. Elain had been...thrown at him."

Like Azriel, Lucien wants to be chosen. He's had it before and he sees the value in it. Unfortunately, he's a fae male and he has a hard time ignoring his instincts where his mate is concerned, so he keeps trying. Even though he can hardly stand to be in the same room as her. Whereas Vassa...

Elain, on the other hand, has absolutely no interest in a mating bond. After Graysen breaks her heart in ACOWAR, Feyre says, "Some sliver of hope had been shattered today. That Graysen would still love her, marry her--and that love would trump even a mating bond."

Obviously, that quote is in direct reference to her ex-fiance, but we see Elain reconfirm that desire in ACOFAS when she tells Feyre explicitly that she doesn't want a mate. I don't think it's personal to Lucien, I think she rejects the idea of being told who she should be with. Of being robbed of choice.

We learn from Nesta in ACOSF that their mother always said Elain would marry for "love and beauty". I think for Elain, a mating bond is not the same as love. Also, small aside, but who is constantly regarded as the most beautiful of the bat boys?

We haven't seen them have a conversation about their mating bond yet because why would we? That will happen in Elain's book (which is most likely next).

Gwynriel

I feel like this one is more dangerous to get into so I'll tread lightly.

Firstly, the majority of evidence for this ship comes from a bonus chapter that the majority of the fandom doesn't even know exists. Anyone who listens to the audiobooks doesn't know about it unless they poke around ACOTAR stuff online.

It doesn't make sense for an author to essentially change the entire trajectory of a story in a bonus chapter that most people don't know about.

Also, I think a big problem with the BC is that people read it after they finish the book, so it can feel like the most recent thing to happen in the story, but it's not. It happens about 2/3 of the way through ACOSF and a lot happens after that.

But before we get into that, let's talk about the shadows. People lose their damn minds that Az's shadows dance for Gwyn and vanish for Elain. The truth of it is that we don't know what dancing shadows actually mean, though. It's the first time we've seen it happen. However, we have seen his shadows vanish for someone other than Elain.

In ACOMAF, when Feyre meets the IC for the first time, they vanish for Mor. "Mor patted Azriel on the shoulder as she dodged his outstretched wing...The lurking shadows vanished entirely as Azriel's head dipped a bit."

So we know that the shadows vanish in the presence of someone Azriel has romantic feelings for, but we don't know what makes them dance.

Then, at the end of the BC (after he said he didn't even consider Gwyn to be a friend) he feels a spark of joy in his chest. Good. My shadow man deserves happiness.

But we know that it doesn't last because at the very next training right after Solstice, Neta comments that Az is "More aloof than usual" which clearly shows us that he is far more hung up on what happened with Elain than whatever may or may not be going on with Gwyn.

For her part, Gwyn becomes more comfortable around Azriel after Solstice. We love to see it because the poor girl has been so traumatized and, like Az, she deserves to be happy.

However, at no point does Nesta or Cassian suspect there to be any romantic connection between them. Not like how Nesta did with Az and Elain. ("His secret to tell. Never hers.").

And then at the climax of the book, Gwyn is thrown into the Blood Rite. At no point is Az even half as frantic as Cassian (which a mate would be) and he is way more preoccupied with whatever's going on with Eris.

At the end, when Nesta is getting ready for her mating ceremony, Gwyn tells her that she's not ready to leave the House of Wind again. Poor thing has been re-traumatized because of what happens in the BR and can't stand to leave the House. And y'all think she's ready for any kind of romantic relationship??

Nah, let Gwyn heal without the influence of a male.

Elriel

So I'm got gonna talk about the rescue, him figuring out she's a seer, giving her Truth Teller, or any of the usual stuff because that's been said and said and I have nothing to add to it.

Instead, I want to talk about what I believe their trope will be and share my evidence with the class. Cool? Cool.

Okay, so, I think we all know that if Elriel is endgame then their trope will be forbidden lovers.

Personally, I am of the opinion that the purpose of Az's bonus chapter was to confirm that for us, not suddenly change the entire trajectory of the story.

But forbidden lovers makes so much sense for Elriel because of what we've seen in the books, not just the BC.

Looking at ACOMAF again, Mor tells Feyre, "'Azriel's got no shortage of lovers, though, don't worry. He's just better at keeping them secret than we are.'"

Then, in ACOSF, when Feyre's talking about how Elain figured out she was pregnant first, she says to Azriel, "'I think she's got you beat for secret-keeping'".

So it's already in-canon that Azriel can keep his lovers secret very well and that Elain is just good at secrets in general.

BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE

A moment I never see anyone talk about is something that Cassian observes at a family dinner. "Elain had already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie's garden. Cassian didn't know why he suspected this wasn't true. There had been some tightness in Elain's face when she said it. Normally when she made such excuses, Lucien was around, but the male remained in the human lands with Jurian and Vassa."

Elain already has secrets the IC aren't privy to. So what's one more?

#elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel #lucien vanserra #gwyneth berdara #acotar #fandom ships

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acourtofthought · 1 month

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It's clear that Elucien's progress regressed in the novella but I think it's fair to say that all E/riel progress also came to a screeching halt in the Bonus Chapter of SF.

People claim Elain wants Az but do we really know whether that's true by the end of SF? Months after Solstice?

To me, neither male is a clear contender for who she wants at this point because she seems to have pulled away from both.

I do think the last words Elain spoke on page to each male are symbolic though:

Elain to Az:

Elain to Lucien:

I also think the last words the two males spoke to Elain on page are symbolic:

Az to Elain:

Lucien to Elain:

There is a finality to Az and Elain's interaction. She was hurt and confused, whispered "I'm sorry" (though what exactly should she even need to apologize for) and rather than actually apologizing to her, Az told her goodnight then left before she could say anything.

With Elain and Lucien's last conversation, there was possibility, there was hope.

It does make sense why there's no clear direction for Elain's romantic arc by the end of SF (since SJM has wanted to keep her endgame person a mystery), but I think when both Elain and Lucien's final words to one another were positive and when Az ended his bonus on a positive note with Gwyn after a negative one with Elain, it's clear the direction SJM will be taking these characters when it's time for their stories

#elucien #pro elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #anti e/riel

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lost-in-fictionn · 3 months

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Okay alright, I updated that little gwynriel hc I had. I still have the continuation in my mind, but this is all I could manage to write right now. I posted the first part loong ago, but I'll post it again cause the second part wouldn't make sense without it. Anyway, here goes

~~~~

One morning, before the training starts, Cassian tells the trainees that today they are going to fight with either him or Az, with their chosen weapon. If trainers win, nothing happens, but if the trainee wins, whoever they fought with (Az or Cass) will owe them a favor. Whoever they fight with is decided by picking a stone from a bag. There are two stones, one blue and one red. Red obviously means Cassian and blue Azriel. Whoever drops their weapon first, loses.

One of the trainees shouts "Is cheating allowed?" There are chuckles and then Azriel says "If you think cheating is gonna help you then why not?"

So the game begins.

A few priestesses fight, some with Cass some with Az. They all lose, some even with cheating in different ways. Nesta picks the red stone and fights with Cass. Cassian gives her a smug smile when she loses despite all her dirty moves. Emerie picks the blue stone. Azriel shakes his head as if to say another time when she loses. And then Gwyn picks the blue stone.

She looks at Azriel and says with a big smile "Ready to lose Shadowsinger?" Azriel, with a little smile of his own, says "Sure."

They fight. Gwyn tries a few dirty moves too, but they do not help her disarm him. After a small eternity of fighting, she finds an opening and gets closer to Azriel. Much closer than an opponent should. She kisses Azriel's cheek and he stills in shock for a few seconds. When he's aware of his surroundings again, his sword is on the floor and all the trainees are laughing and congratulating Gwyn on her success.

Gwyn looks at him with an even bigger smile and says "You owe me a favor!"

Azriel, who is still feeling faint, clears his throat and says "It would appear so."

*************

That night, Gwyn and Az are sitting on one of the training mats they dragged next to the wall after a grueling training session. They are sipping their waters quietly when Gwyn suddenly looks at Azriel and says "I want to call in my favor!"

Azriel looks around and cautiously asks "You do? Now?"

"Yes. What better time than the present, right?"

"O-kay" he says, still a little unsure. "What is it you want?"

Gwyn, a little unsure herself about whether she should ask this or not, says "Can you sing something?"

Azriel is surprised at that. He doesn't know what he expected her to say, but it wasn't this. "What do you want me to sing?"

"You can sing anything, really. I'm not picky" she says with a smile.

Azriel is silent for a while, then clears his throat and starts humming a melody. A few seconds later, lyrics come. The song is a haunting one, the way he sings the lyrics is like he is fighting something or someone but losing the fight...

When the song ends, Gwyn is speechless, she just looks at Azriel open-mouthed. Azriel looks at her too, like he's told her all his secrets. After Gwyn collects herself a little bit, still looking at Az, all she's able to say is "Can I kiss you?"

Azriel doesn't even blink, "Yes."

Gwyn sits up slowly, rising to her knees. Then she leans into him, still looking into his eyes. She lifts her slightly trembling hands to his cheeks, holding him gently. His own hands are on his sides, forming fists. Then slowly, so slowly, she puts her lips on his. Just that. She doesn't move her lips, and neither does he. They stay like that for a few seconds. When she pulls away, putting a few inches between their heads, they look at each other like there's nothing else around them.

Gwyn, heart in her throat, asks "Can I kiss you again?"

Azriel, again without blinking, says "Yes."

Gwyn leans forward once more. When she kisses him this time, she moves her lips a little bit. But she doesn't know what to do exactly, how to kiss properly. Because as much as she read those smutty books, they didn't teach her how to kiss. She pulls away again, frustrated with herself. This time she asks, "Can you kiss me?"

And this time Azriel answers with a question of his own, "Can I touch you?"

Gwyn swallows, then nods once. Azriel lifts one of his hands to her cheek, not yet touching. He pushes a strand of her hair behind an ear. Then he grabs her nape gently with that hand. His other hand comes to rest on her cheek. And he pulls her toward him and starts kissing her like he's been waiting for this his entire life. Hard but gentle at the same time. A lot of nipping and sucking. Gwyn's hands wander to his shoulders, then to the back of his head, pulling at the hair there. When her knees feel so weak that they won't hold her up any longer, Azriel grabs her waist and sits her on his thighs, both her feet where her knees had been a moment ago. Never once breaking the kiss. It lasts for an eternity.

When they pull apart, they're both breathless. Looking at each other like it's the first time they see the other one. Like the ground has shifted beneath them, though they both are sitting. Gwyn, still trying to control her breathing, says "Wow."

Azriel, still breathless himself, chuckles and says "Wow indeed."

#To be continued!#Gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #Azriel #Acotar #Sjm #Acotar 5 #gwynriel headcanon #Acosf #Hofas #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn berdara #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #Acotar5

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year

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Azriel x Reader | Crazy Stupid Love pt. 2

type: angsty, fluffy warning(s): curse words word count: 2.3k summary: as it has been requested, here is part two for CSL

“We should talk.”

The words still hollow through your mind, his voice, the deep tenor reverberating through your body. You cannot meet his gaze. Your eyes are focused on fingers, toying with the skin around your nails.

“Azriel.” Her chin held high, Elain looks down her nose at the shadowsinger. She deigns him only this short glance, before getting up and her linking her arm with Lucien’s, leading him towards the door. “If you need me, or us, call, but we will give you some space now,” the middle Archeron sister tells you, looking at you over her shoulder. A warm, thankful smile spreads over your face and you give your head a little nod. “Thank you,” you whisper which she returns with an assuring smile.

They depart, closing the door behind them and you want a hole in the ground to appear and suck you in. You can barely stand the tension in the room and think that the moment Azriel sits down next to you he is not breathing, somehow feeling as uneasy as you are.

For a long moment —one could almost cut the tension with a knife— neither of you says anything. It is calm—too calm and you feel like your are getting suffocated. Luckily, Azriel ends the dreadful silence, speaking up, his voice shaky, his hands trembling in his lap.

“Why did you leave so abruptly?”

Ugh, out of all questions he has to ask this. Obviously, you would have asked the same. Still you hate it and ponder for a moment, searching in your brain to find the right words to say.

“I just wanted to get out for a bit,” you say, lips pressed in a thin line and a gloomy and not at all convincing expression on your face.

“Right…” Azriel cocks a brow and pins you with his lock. You want to get out, heat spreading over your skin. You feel so exposed under his gaze, like he is looking right into your soul. “So abruptly?”

“Yes, felt right.” You clamp your lips together, jealousy bubbling up inside of you when you think back at the morning and the thoughts you had this morning. Him and Gwyn. You wonder if they have met again since you have left. Maybe they are official now and that is why he is here? To tell you? And ask you to go on a mission probably?

Oh yeah, he is probably here because he needs you to start working again.

“I will start working again tomorrow, if that is why you are here.” You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and find yourself lost in the rich hazel, the warmth and depth. You swallow around the lump in your throat but hold his gaze. An expression, you cannot quite place, spreads over Azriel's face, his brows furrowed slightly.

“That is not why I came here.” Something like hurt, like what you said has been an accusations, flickers in his eyes, a muscle in his jaw flexing.

“Why then?” The words about being worried about you burn on Azriel’s tongue but he does not say them. Why? He doesn’t know himself. Maybe he does not want to be so straightforward.

“Because you left so abruptly.”

You shrug a shoulder, deliberating for a moment if you should call for Elain so she could rescue you from this incredibly uncomfortable situation. But that would not be fair. It would not be fair for Azriel who has come here just for you.

You are just about to say that you just needed some time away from the court because of stress or something when Azriel opens up a bit and reveals a part of the darkness inside of him. His words are like a fist that curls around your heart, squeezing.

“I am an Illyrian brute and I thought I might hurt you by touching you in the wrong place during training the day before you left. Or maybe it has been something about my closeness and me invading your personal space. I don’t know what the Illyrian fuckers did to you in the war camp, so I was worried I would be just like those Windhaven blokes.” A shudder courses through you, memories of what they did to you flashing in front of you vision. But how could Azriel even think he is like them? Never in the world.

“I let you touch me, Azriel!” you argue quickly and shoot him an assuring smile he only hesitantly accepts. “That was fine and it is not the reason I left.” Shifting on the couch, the shadowsinger’s knee brushes your thigh and moves closer. "Please, I don’t want anything to be between us. If I did something wrong, tell me.” “I saw you with Gwyn.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop then and you quickly smack your hands over your mouth, colour blooming high on her cheeks. Gods!

It takes a small moment but when realisation dawns on the spymaster, he cocks a brow and a smirk appears on his lips. “You are jealous?”

“No!” you quickly shoot back, feeling your skin prickle and heat practically radiate from your whole body. “Of course not.” “But you left because you say Gwyn and me?” Cockiness laces his features, his whole demeanor actually and you want to punch him. Punch him right in his silly yet so terribly handsome face.

“No.” “You just said that.” His brow raises even higher when the shadowsinger leans closer.

“Did I?”

To that Azriel makes the most dramatic eye roll possible and groans loudly before moving his hand over his face and wiping it down. “Y/N.” “Yes, maybe…maybe I was jealous.”

The cockiness disappearing from his features, Azriel’s looks to the side for a moment, seeming like pondering about something. “Why?”

What a stupid question, you think but don’t say.

“Because I saw you laugh together and I thought you are together. Are you?”

“Gwyn and I?”

You throw up your hands in despair. “No, you and Cassian. Of course you and Gwyn, gods!”

Your cheeks must be a beetroot red when sweat breaks out on the back of your neck.

It is the silly half smile that appears on his on the shadowsinger’s face that makes you want to punch him and fuels the fire inside of you. Why does he smile? Why does you being embarrassed make him?

“Gwyn and I are not dating, we talked and laughed. She told me about her date the previous evening,” Azriel informs you and it is now that you really want for the floor to suck you in. You just want to disappear.

You part your lips to say something, but have no idea of what actually. What should you answer? That you are a fool? Probably.

Azriel takes it from you and speaks up before you. “I was looking for you the whole evening.”

His expression turns gloomy, stern and frustrated when he searches your gaze and finally locks it with yours. “I was waiting for you. I wanted to spend Starfall with you.”

That hurts. And it hurts a lot. His pain leaves a tangy taste at the back of your mouth, stretching out and letting the air around you drop at least five degrees.

“I am sorry.” “Don't be. It was a silly believe that you would want to spend Starfall with me.”

You reach for his hands so quickly, it is beyond him. You have never had a problem with touching his hands, never looked at them weirdly, always accepted him the way he is. That has always meant a lot to him and still does. Azriel looks down at your hands holding his and back up to your eyes.

“I wanted to spend Starfall with you as well, but then…” “Then you saw me with Gwyn. I am sorry for hurting you.” “Don’t be.”

There is a small smile playing on Az’s lips, his eyes glowing a little brighter. “Don’t steal my words.”

You giggle lightly and tug at his hands, bringing him closer to you. “I am not mad at you, I was just disappointed and sad, alright?”

“It really has nothing to do with me being an Illyrian brute?” Azriel says with a sad expression.

“You are not!” you argue and shake your head.

“Are you really sure?” Azriel queries, releasing a gloomy sigh and direction his gaze towards the window behind you. “Remember what I said to you when we first met?”

A small grimace appears on Azriel’s face, but he chuckles, nudging you with his knee. He remembers, the words imprinted on his heart and mind since then.

With warmth filling your cheeks, you meet his gaze. “You are not an Illyrian brute like them, I said and meant it. I knew this in the first moment. And I never changed my mind about it.” “But I am an Illyrian.” “And I am fae, yes, this is what we were born as. But what we are born as does not define who we are, our actions do.” You take Az’s hand into yours, gazes still locked. “And you with all your actions have shown me nothing but kindness and love.” “I upset you.”

“You did not.” “The morning after Starfall, how abruptly you left to come here?” Azriel raises his brow, worry lacing his features.

“You didn’t upset me.” “I did,” Azriel answers, a sad smile appearing on his face while he pulls you to him. Your hands are against his chest, his face suddenly so close to yours. “Tell me what you were upset about.” Not a question, a command.

You smile sheepishly, giving your head a little shake. “No.” “Yes.” Azriel says and a cocky smirk appears on his lips, like he knows what it was about.

“No.” The shadowsinger pulls you even closer.

“I will fire you if you don’t tell me.” “You can't fire me,” you retort, trying to glower.

“I can, watch me: Y/N you are fired.” You removed one hand from his hold and swat at his shoulder. “I am your best spy, this is your loss.” His eyes fill with warmth and some emotion you cannot quite place. He inhales a deep breath and lowers his head. “It truly would be my loss. Not only because you are truly my best spy, but also—” Azriel pauses, lifting his gaze to yours, one hand coming up so he can brush a strand of hair out of your face, the other still holding your hand. “Because I would not be able to see you that often. I couldn’t stand that. It already broke my heart now when you left.”

Your throat dries out the same moment your heart explodes and your eyes widen. “You…?” “Yes, yes, I…”

You raise a brow, waiting for him to continue. His features soften when he leans in and brushes his lisp over your cheek. The gesture seems so out of place, but feels so good, it has you giggling. And release a little gasp when he tips his head back, looking at you with his stunning hazel eyes. “I am in love with you.”

“But…” “What but?”

“I work for you,” you say in calm voice, lowering your gaze to your hands.

A gloomy sigh leaves the spymaster. “And in how far is that a problem?”

“Won’t it make things weird between us?”

“Why?”

“Because I work for you!?” You say and raise your brows, flashing him an incredulous look. Stupid question, you want to say once again. Luckily you rationality stops you before you open your mouth.

“And? You will keep working for me and the only thing that changes that after work we will go home together, kiss, hug, make love and wake up in each others’ arms.” He grins and it must have been the most beautiful thing you have ever seen in your life, eyes of hazel aglow, teeth white, his whole face lighting up.

“I…”

“You don’t want that?” His grin starts to vanish the moment the words leave his mouth.

“I do. I really do. I am in love with you as well. A lot, since so long.” His arm wraps around your waist, bringing you closer. “Good,” he says, leaning in, the two of you breathing the same air. You close the distance between the two of you, lips brushing his when you whisper, “Good.”

The moment your lips connect a relieved groan leaves Azriel and every tension vanishes from your body. You don’t really know if it is him pulling you over or if you climb onto his lap one your own, but when your hands move into his hair, your hips meet his, his own hands falling to your waist, you know that you two fit perfectly.

What has started slowly and in an exploring way soon turns into something more, something hungrier and something more passionate. It is a tangle of tongues, the clashing of teeth, moans and sighs being swallowed by the other, two souls that have been yearning and longing for each other for so long, finally united. You tag on some strands when you bury your hand in the hair at the back of his neck, eliciting a low groan from him that has your thighs clenching.

His chest heaving with deep inhales and panting, Azriel pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting your mouths when he stares at you with puffy and parted lips. “Fuck.” “Indeed,” you giggle and lean forward, grinning while leaning our forehead against his chin.

Azriel kisses your forehead, his scarred hand moving up and down your back, softly stroking you through your shirt. “So we give this a chance?”

You kiss the base of his neck, before closing your mouth over his again. This has to be answer enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @cityofidek @moony-thoughts-blog @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22 @valeriedarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @shadowcrowsworld @a-little-disguised @percyjacksonspeen

#azriel x reader #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #acotar x reader #acotar #acosf

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nightcourtreader · 5 months

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ACOSF Interactions/connections without the bonus chapter. Elriel vs gwynriel.

Elriel

• “Because of the shit with Elain?” Azriel stilled. “What happened to Elain?” Cassian waved a hand. “A fight with Nesta. Don’t bring it up,” he warned when Azriel’s eyes darkened. Cassian blew out a breath. (Page 221)

• Azriel stiffened, an outright sign of temper from him as he said quietly, “there is an innate darkness to the dread trove that Elain should not be exposed to.” (Page 311)

•She threw a nod towards Azriel. “including Elain, who is more than capable of defending herself against the darkness of the trove, if she chooses to. don’t underestimate her.” (Pg 311)

• she said nodding to Cassian, and then, a bit more shyly to Azriel. Azriel offered her a small smile that Elain quickly looked away from. Cassian tucked away his puzzlement. (Pg 467)

•Then his gaze shifted to Elain, and though it was utterly neutral, something charged went through it. Between them. Elain’s breath caught slightly, and she gave him a shallow nod of greeting before brushing past. (Pg 597)

How is there any Elriel build up in acosf when they didn’t even talk to each other in the entirety of the book without the bonus chapter? All they did was look at each other. Azriel himself has been avoiding elain the entirety of the book, that was HIS choice. No one told him to do that. But they’re suppose to be endgame?

Gwynriel

•Gwyn had been distracted today—one eye on the other side of the ring. Cassian could only assume she was watching his brother, who had given Gwyn a small smile of greeting upon arrival. Gwyn hadn’t return it. Cassian cursed himself for a fool. He should have asked her if she’d be comfortable with Azriel here. Perhaps he should have asked all the priestesses about including another male, but especially Gwyn—whom Azriel had found that day in Sangravah. (Pg 406)

• She said nothing about it during the lesson. Only glanced every now and then toward Az, who remained dutifully focused on his charges. Cassian couldn’t read the expression on her face. (Pg 406)

* Gwyn let out a high pitched noise that was nothing but pure excitement. Azriel, on the other side of the ring with the rest of the priestesses, half turned at the sound, brows high. (pg 464)

* Gwyn snickered, her attention fixed on thing a length of white silk ribbon to a wood beam jutting from the side of the pit. Neither the ribbon nor the beam had been there a week ago, and Nesta had no idea how they’d even anchored the wood into the stone, but there it was. (Page 513)

I added this because it only makes sense that Azriel anchored the beam for them while Cassian was gone.

* “Done.” Gwyn declared, the white ribbon fluttering in the wind where it hung from the beam. Behind them, a few of the priestesses working with Azriel had turned to see what the ribbon business was about. The shadowsinger crossed his arms, angling his head, but remained in his half of the ring. (Page 514)

* But Cassian cleared this throat. “Explain,” he ordered Gwyn. Gwyn squared her shoulders. “This is the Valkyrie test for whether your training is complete and you’re ready for battle: cut the ribbon in half.” Emerie snorted. “What?” Cassian made a contemplative noise, gesturing to the other half of the ring. “Az told me you also started preliminary work with the steel blades while we were gone.” He nodded to Gwyn and Emerie, the former glancing toward Azriel, who watched in silence. “So show me what you learned. Cut the ribbon in two.” (pg 514)

* “We slice the ribbon in two,” Emerie asked Gwyn warily, “and our training is complete?” Gwyn again glanced to Azriel, who drifted closer. She said, “I’m not entirely sure.” (pg 514-515)

* Azriel had winnowed her and Cassian here after training, but hadn’t lingered. Apparently, Gwyn wanted him to go over dagger handling, so he’d left them with a promise to return in an hour.(Pg 561)

* Cassian glance over to Az, but his attention was fixed on the young priestesses, admiration and quiet encouragement shining from his face. (Pg 621)

* 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 hundreds 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, we’re aware that far larger forces peered into the training ring as Gwyn moved (pg 621)

* Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “what do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. “Since there’s no chance in hell any of you will finish the course, we didn’t bother to get a prize.” Boo’s sounded. Gwyn lifted her chin in challenge. “We look forward to proving you wrong.” (Pg 623)

* Gwyn threw Azriel a withering stare as she strode past him. “See you tomorrow, Shadowsinger,” she tossed over a shoulder. Az stared after her, brows high with amusement. When he turned back, Nesta grinned. “You have no idea what you just started,” she said. Az angled his head, hazel eyes narrowing as Gwyn reached the archway. “Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon?” Nesta winked and clapped the shadowsinger on the shoulder. “You’re the new ribbon, Az.” (Pg 624)

* Propelling Gwyn to push her group harder. She wanted to be the first. Wanted Nesta and Emerie and her to be the ones who wiped the smirks from Azriel’s and Cassian’s faces. Especially Azriel’s (pg 624)

* And when Gwyn reached the finish line, bloody and panting and grinning so wildly her teal eyes glowed like a sunlit sea, she only extended her battered hand to Azriel. “Well?” (Pg 625)

• “I kept to the trees the first two nights, watching the beasts, and I spotted that horrible male and his companions this morning. Saw they’d found my nightgown and displayed it, and I knew they were hunting for you. I thought I’d take them out before they could find you.” “You lead the beast right to them.” “I learned where the beasts sleep during the day,” Gwyn said. “and that they get very angry when awoken.” she pointed to the cuts on her face, her hands. “I barely out ran that one as I led it toward the camp. My timing was just good luck, though.” (Pg 682) & Azriel sharpen truth teller. the Black Blade absorbed the dim sunlight trickling through the forest canopy above. “it seems you’ve forgotten how much of spying is waiting for the right moment. people don’t engage in their evil deeds when it’s convenient to you. Cassian rolled his eyes. “I stopped spying because it bored me to death. I don’t know how you put up with this all the time.” “It suits me.” (page 688)

* “There are plenty of other unspeakable things that could be happening to her,” Cassian said, voice thickening. “To Emerie and Gwyn.” The shadows deepened around Azriel, his siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. (Page 688, ACOSF)

• “Azriel slaughtered all of them within moments. He didn’t hesitate. But I could barely move, and when I tried to get up…He gave me his cloak and wrapped me in it.” (Page 695, ACOSF) & “sloppy I realized. Rhys had been sloppy in killing them. Normally he would’ve kept them alive for Azriel to question. But he’d taken what he needed, quickly, brutally, and ended it.” (Pg 331, ACOWAR)

We see how Azriel usually takes people into questioning when it comes to things like that and he didn’t even do that. The same thing with Rhys. I just thought it was a connection.

We see that Elriel had zero interactions or connections with each other after the bonus chapter, because the bonus happens the night of winter solstice. We see many gwynriel connections after the bonus chapter and there’s suppose to be zero gwynriel build up in acosf and people are not understanding why they are being shipped?

How can you claim 4 books of build up when the only thing I see where you can ship Elain & Azriel is in ACOWAR, but even then it’s canon that Azriel was still in love with Mor up until ACOSF.

#gwynriel #pro gywnriel #anti e/riel #acosf

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lorcandidlucienwill · 6 months

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Lucien x Nesta friendship drabble

Nesta introduces Lucien to her chosen family! @sonics-atelier I wrote it :)) Nesta surveyed the Autumn Court male coolly. She could see the similarities between his face and Eris’s. Her sister had not overstated his cruel beauty. Since she was now married to his brother, and he was in turn mated to Elain…she supposed she would have to get to know him now. That didn’t mean she was going to make it easy on him. She let pure dismissal freeze over her stare as she looked him over. Lucien Vanserra did not balk from her stare. A ghost of a smirk flitted across his face as she continued to stare him down. “Are you admiring my metal eye, or just contemplating killing me, Nesta Archeron?” Nesta couldn’t help the small smile that spread over her face. There were few who could tolerate her spiciness. Cassian had been unable to; he had loved her spiciness, sure, but only when it was directed at others. Not him. But both Lucien and Eris loved it. It must be those Autumn court genes.

“I was just wondering…” She gestured to that eye. “I forgot who made that for you. Or did you make it yourself?”

Lucien laughed. “By the Cauldron, no. I have a very dear friend in the Dawn Court who specializes in this sort of thing. She herself has a metal arm, you know.” Nesta straightened. “What is her name?”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just for a friend,” Nesta said evasively. Lucien snorted. “You’re going to have to give me more than that horseshit if you want me to reveal her name.”

“What’s the big deal?” Nesta snapped.

“I don’t know you,” Lucien said simply. “I’d like to know why you want to know. You’re married to a brother I haven’t had a proper relationship with in centuries and possess incredible powers in the Dread Trove and that death magic you got going. Forgive me for being cautious.”

Nesta sighed. She wanted to argue further, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. “Fine. One of my friends, Emerie, is an Illyrian. The Illyrians have a barbaric practice of cutting their women’s wings. So… I was wondering if this friend of yours could possibly make her metal wings.”

Lucien gaped. “Are you fucking kidding me? How is such a practice still occurring after all this time? Hasn’t that stupid Inner Circle done anything about it?”

“Apparently not,” Nesta said. “But about the wings…”

“This seems within her ballpark. Why don’t I take all of you to see her? Nuan will be able to judge better than me.”

Nesta nodded. “Let me talk to Gwyn and Emerie and get back to you.”

Later that day, Gwyn and Emerie arrived in tow with Nesta. “Do you really think she’ll be able to make the wings?” Gwyn asked. Her teal eyes were as large as saucers and filled with hope. Emerie was taut as a bowstring by her side, not daring to voice the hopes in her mind. Lucien only smiled gently at Gwyn. “Nuan hasn’t failed yet.” As if in emphasis, Lucien’s metal eye whirred to focus more fully on Gwyn. Emerie jumped away, cussing, but Gwyn grinned. “That is so cool.”

Lucien smirked. “It gave me the ability to see things that nobody else can see. So, in a way, losing my eye was a blessing.”

“How did you lose it?” Nesta asked.

Lucien turned to her. “You probably know that Prythian was ruled by that tyrant Amarantha for fifty years.” Nesta nodded. “Well, I told her to go back to the shit-hole she crawled out of. So, she clawed out my eye.” Emerie’s jaw dropped, and Gwyn murmured noises in awe. Nesta raised her brows, impressed against her will. “That’s exceptionally brave of you.”

Lucien shrugged. “I don’t respond well to threats or tyrants.” Flame sizzled in his brown eye. Nesta smiled. “Neither do I.” Lucien laughed. “I figured as much when you made a death promise to the King of Hybern.”

Nesta smiled at Lucien. She didn’t know him well, but she had already decided she liked the male.

“I’m not sure I can winnow all three of you,” Lucien said. “You should probably bring my brother, Nesta.” Nesta nodded and came to get him.

Lucien was left alone in the room with Emerie and Gwyn. “Who cut off your wings?” Lucien asked. Ok, maybe not the best icebreaker, but they’d asked about his eye so it was only fair. Emerie grimaced. “My father.”

Lucien swore, low and vicious. “Asshole father. I can relate.”

Emerie scoffed. “Wonder what it’s like to have decent parents?”

“Beats me,” Lucien said. He turned to Gwyn. “Do you know?”

Gwyn shrugged. “I barely remember mine.”

“That’s a step up from being traumatized by them, I suppose,” Lucien said, and the three of them laughed. Nesta returned to the room with her husband in tow. “Lucien, can you take Gwyn and Emerie?” “Yes,” Lucien said. He avoided speaking to his brother. “Hold on tight, my ladies,” Lucien said softly to Nesta’s friends. Gwyn was positively beaming at him, and Emerie was little better. Nesta wasn’t sure if she should be glad the two of them were so comfortable in another male’s presence, or irritated that they’d fallen for the Vanserra charm so quickly. Not like she could talk, though. Eris had a shit-eating grin on his face as Nesta faced him. “Looks like my brother might just steal your friends away from you.” “That would only make me as friendless as you, Eris.”

Eris chuckled. “Why do I need friends when I have you, Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta blushed as Eris winnowed them away.

The dawn court was exquisite. The colors in the sky were so soft and comforting, like honey. It wasn’t quite as beautiful as the Autumn Court, but it had its own charm. It was a little chilly, and Lucien was about to offer Nesta his cloak when Eris beat him to the punch. He shrugged, offering his cloak to Gwyn instead, who gladly took it. He led the way to the metal workshop he had frequented countless times to hang out with his good friend. Nuan squealed in delight when she saw him, running over to hug him. “Lulu! I missed you!!”

Nesta turned to Lucien incredulously. “Lulu?”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “She earned the right to call me that after she made my eye.”

Nesta and Eris wore identical smirks on their faces, and Lucien was about to roast the shit out of them when Nuan spoke again. “Are we here for the Illyrian?”

Emerie stiffened ever so slightly. “I stopped being Illyrian the moment my father cut my wings. I am a Valkyrie.”

“As you say,” Nuan said.

“Yes, Nuan. We were wondering if you would be able to make prosthetic wings for her.”

Nuan inspected the shredded wings. “This has been cut highly unevenly,” Nuan said. “I may have to cut a little bit more off to make it more even. Under a faerie drug, of course, so she wouldn’t feel anything.”

Nesta said, “Emerie? Are you ok with that?”

Emerie was staring at Nuan. “If I let you do that, would you be able to make wings for me? Would I be able to fly again?”

“You would need to relearn how to fly, of course, but yes, I can perfectly make usable wings for you.” Silent tears poured down Emerie’s face, and Nesta and Gwyn moved to embrace her. Lucien’s heart strained at the camaraderie, the easy acceptance and understanding. Something he had had himself, once upon a time. He shut down the thought.

“How much would it cost?”

“Seventy faerie bits, but for my favorite customer, I’ll give you a 15-bit discount,” Nuan said, swatting his arm playfully. Lucien grinned. “You honor me, my lady. And how long will it take to make?”

Nuan thought. “I was actually halfway into a wing project, which I think I can perfectly mold to fit her wingspan. Overall, probably a day?”

Lucien turned to his companions. “Are you all fine with staying?”

Nesta arched a brow at Lucien. “And do you have a place where we can stay?”

Lucien gasped in mock horror. “Of course I do! What sort of male do you take me for, Lady Death?”

“Certainly one with a death wish, foxy.”

“I’m perfectly happy to stay if everybody else is,” Eris said. “It’s not like I had anything specific going on today.”

“Same,” Emerie said. Gwyn nodded in agreement. “Then come with me, everyone.” “Are you ready?” Nuan asked Emerie. The jagged edges of her ruined wings had been evened out so that Nuan could attach her new microfiber wings. “They’re not quite bat wings,” Nuan admitted. “They’re closer to Peregryn wings, but that just means they’re softer and more flexible. And more colorful, if you’d like.”

Emerie’s eyes widened. “You mean I can make them whatever color I want?” “Of course.” Emerie grinned at her companions. “How cool would it be if I had purple wings?”

“It would match your friendship bracelet,” Nesta said.

Lucien snorted. “You guys have friendship bracelets? And you were making fun of my friend’s nickname for me.” Nesta grinned at Lucien. “Yes we have friendship bracelets, and we are not ashamed, foxy.”

Lucien shrugged. “If you say so.”

Later, Nuan carefully approached Emerie with the purple wings. “Hold still,” she commanded. The wings were very complicated, with many interlocking pieces, but finally Nuan got them on.

“Flap,” she ordered. Emerie obeyed and was stunned to feel the wings obey her. Nesta and Gwyn were squealing in the background, Eris’s hand squeezing Nesta’s tightly. Emerie sobbed over and over again, thanking Nuan for the gift, and Nuan hugged her. “It’s no better than you deserve, Emerie.”

Later, when Emerie, Gwyn, and Eris had all left, Nesta and Lucien were left alone together.

“You’re not bad, for a Fae male,” Nesta said. Lucien laughed and shook his head. “A glowing recommendation. I’m going to tape that to my wall. Nesta Archeron said, and I quote, ‘you’re not bad.’” Nesta smiled. “You must be very well-connected, if you know a tinkerer like Nuan.”

Lucien shrugged. “As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.” “That sounds far more High Lord-like than people like Beron or Rhysand ever will be.”

Lucien let Nesta see all the power simmering in his veins. “That’s why my brothers tried their very best to break and kill me.” Nesta smiled. “Perhaps you could take over the Spring Court from Tamlin. Or rule over Hybern. There’s a power gap there, isn’t there?”

Lucien nodded. “I don’t know you very well, but I can’t think of anyone more suited to rule,” Nesta said. Frank. Honest. “You’re not so bad yourself, Nesta Archeron.” They may not be friends just yet, but there was a budding relationship there. It hadn’t taken long for both to grow to respect the other immensely.

#nesta archeron #pro nesta archeron #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #nesta x lucien #neris #the valkyries #emerie of illyria #emerie #gwyneth berdara #pro gwyneth berdara #nuan acotar #lucien x nuan #fanfic

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shadybirdwombat · 3 months

Text

So this is a crack theory.

Hofas spoilers

What if Lucien and Elain have been mind talking or together for awhile.

After the battle of Hybern. Feyre told them to wash up together.

We need got that scene. What if she told her about her using truth teller. What it actually can do ?

I believe lucien already knows about his biological father. I believe Helion didn't let that slip accidentally from his lips.

He did it for a reason. Maybe day court royals can block out daementi. Lucien hasn't been an emissary for this many years without being observant. He figured out Feyre was suspicious right away.

Anyways he let Feyre read his mind for what he allowed.

Going back to after the battle. What if Lucien already knows about great objects of power. He as raised in autumn. I'm sure Eris and loa taught him. Maybe even Beron.

So Elain tells him. She also tells him of all her visions.

So he tells her they can talk through the bond. So they pretend to hate each other. Can't stand each other. Till all her visions come true.

So lulu flirts with Vassa in front of Feyre. Elain acts with Azriel and the necklace. To see about his loyalties.

Which I believe will also tie into Nesta and the dusk court. Maybe Azriel will switch courts. Elain also pushing him towards Gwyn. She knows mates are stronger together .

Sly Fox that's Lucien. Sjm has says he's the her smartest characters. Also she said Lucien and Dorian would be friends. Dorian who tricked Maeve.

Helion is playing along because his court knows about seers. Also he loves loa. He would never put her at risk. Neither would Eris or Lucien by revealing the truth.

Elain's story could go back to the beginning. I also believe papa archeron had gifts of seeing.

Feyre did before she turned fae. She painted that dresser. I believe Nesta did as well.

That's why Papa archeron went immediately to find Vassa.

Maybe he knew he had to play the horrible parent. Not being there. So his daughters Feyre and Nesta would become rulers. Elain my be the only one to know about it.

I believe Elain also knew Tamlin was fae. She did t forget. Just pretended.

This has to do with the goddess of fate urd or wyrd. Aka all those drawings on the cottage.

Which are to protect them from Asteri.

So in Elain and Lucien book. We will see them during each part of main events. Waiting for the right time.

Which I believe lucien will come get Elain before or after Bryce goes back to migard.

Helion will say. I have books about seers etc. This will lead to the death of Beron and defeat of Koschei.

I believe Vassa and Jurian would know Elain and Lucien are together. Jurian is adept at lying. Plus he would have knowledge of many things. He wasn't eye and not paying attention for no reason

Vassa knows the game because she's royal.

Eris always has he taught Lucien. Doesn't he say he should have taught brothers about blocking out mind readers. Throw them off his scent maybe. Lie lie lie.

This would be wild. Support my theory. That bring a seer is horrible. Family may hate you. Because if you change fate. Does it cause more problems. Elain wasn't blessed by the cauldron for no reason. It purrs and it never attacked her on the battlefield.

What if the pure mother's wyrd saw Elain in the cauldron. She awoken her.

Nesta took most the asteri bad parts . Though the mother blessed her not to become corrupt through love. Thus Nesta becoming high lady of dusk.

I don't believe Lucien will become high lord of day for awhile. Elain and Lucien maybe to become world walkers. Say emissaries to other worlds.

Maybe Tam even knows. He's acting more crazy to their them off. He told Feyre to be happy and saved Rhys life. Plus doesn't have a painting of the cauldron before the asteri.

Helion would teach Lucien about a spell to mask the mating bond.

Which I believe he does to protect the lady of autumn from Beron.

Explains why Azriel smells something off about their bond.

Why lulu look solemn at solstice. Cause Elain had to play Azriel. Knowing Rhys would find out. Pushing Azriel too see Gwyn. Not a crush like he does with Mor and Elain.

Mates. Though because Azriel had been through much in his life. He doesn't understand the mating bond for himself.

Also they would be the greatest actors since Aelin

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freyjas-musings · 1 month

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I don’t understand why some E/riel’s say they hate Gwynriel and it gives them the ick because of the teacher-student dynamic and because she’s an abused woman. They said it’s wrong, wrong, wrong. But Rowan taught Aelin. Rhys taught Feyre. Cassian taught Nesta.

Hello,

You simply don't get it Anon, it's because neither Feysand nor Rowaelin was in the way of their shitty Elriel ship....

Forget Ick, I am sure Gwynriel is their worst nightmare taking form .... but they can all choose not to read the next book which is certainly Gwynriel.

Also , if Gwyn is really so absurd.... why are most of the Elriel fanfics prior to ACOSF featuring a version of Elain which is very on point to Gwyn's actual character?

I just want people to understand irrespective of how much people fight what's going to happen in the book will remain unchanged.

SJM would have had to give a rough outline of each book before signing the contract. So, fundamentally the couples are all decided and the woman literally is giving THARION AND ITHAN a book.... fanservice isn't her thing and I have immense respect that she doesn't stray from the story she wants to tell.

I read theories but I always take them with a grain of salt unless its some Elain is an owl level nonsense in which case I start laughing, Gwynriel is what makes sense based on ACOSF and the Bonus chapter (which SJM specifically says is relevant) that's all I need ... I shall trust the books!!!

Now personal preferences I can respect, if teacher - student dynamic gives them a ick they should not read a book about Cass and Nesta or Feyre and Rhys as well.... Also, Cassian is her primary trainer , Az is more like her tutor for extra lessons ... seems pretty friendly and informal to me 😉

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #pro gwynriel #gwyn acosf #acotar #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x azriel #azriel #post acosf #acosf theory

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abruisedmuse · 23 days

Text

I'm gonna be unbiased here. Yall know I believe Elucien is endgame. But Guilty as Sin? That's not an Elucien song. No matter what angle you look at it. It's an Elriel song. In fact it's the fucking anthem. (I can be an Elucien shipper and state this. If you don't think I can, the unfollow is right there)

I don't know, just like nobody but sjm, knows why she choose that particular song out of all 31 songs to thank as a gift for the album. Perhaps it's because it's Taylor's horniest song to date and is just fueling the words. Perhaps it means more.

IF. IF it meant more it's not about Elucien. Elain wouldn't haven sinful thoughts and feel guilty about them towards Lucien. That's her mate it's normal. But she would be about Az.

Same with Lucien, granted he might still feel guilty about Jesminda but it's been a couple years since the mate reveal. We don't know how much guilt he carries when it comes to thinking of Elain. Again these aren't sinful thoughts. Guilty sure. Not sinful

Also, the song lyrically depicts being in bed with your partner and having thoughts, especially sexual of another person. Which doesn't apply here.

It does, however, apply to both Elain and Az because neither one should be having these thoughts about the other. They both are fully aware they're in the wrong and yet still want each other whether it's just to fuck or be together. Personally I think just wanna fuck but hey.

Annnnd to bring a little chaos in the mix it might not be referring to Elain at all and just a warring inner concept which would point to Gwynriel. Gwyn having these thoughts and fighting against it, trying to ignore them for whatever reason. Again, I didn't think Gwynriel at all when I saw the post. That could be because it's not a ship I think about.

#elain archeron #lucien vanserra #azriel #gwyn berdara #elucien #elriel #Gwynriel #acotar #acotar thoughts

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rosanna-writer · 2 months

Text

now i've read all of the books beside your bed

Summary: A Gwynlain drabble inspired by “source?” divine intuition, gut instinct, and cryptic symbolism from my dreams" Warnings: none Rating: T Word Count: ~600 Read on AO3

"Sweetheart," Gwyn said, trying and failing to sound patient, "how many times are we going to talk about this?"

Elain looked up from her novel, all doe-eyed innocence. "Talk about what?"

Gwyn never fell for that—from their first meeting, it had been abundantly clear to her that Elain Archeron wasn't nearly as sweet and naive as everyone assumed her to be.

It was one of the many reasons Elain had married her.

One of the other reasons had been Gwyn's enthusiastic support of Elain's efforts to create comprehensive taxonomies of the Night Court's native flora. It had been more than just words of encouragement—Gwyn had volunteered to fetch books, organize notes, and check facts.

That had been years ago, but Gwyn still proofread Elain's work. These days, she did it from the comfort of her desk in their home library, often with Elain curled up in the nearby armchair like she was now.

It had become a comfortable routine, which is why Gwyn merely narrowed her eyes at Elain and said, "Your citations."

"Did I get the numbering wrong again? I—"

"Elain. You can't cite prophetic visions in an academic treatise."

"You can if you're a seer," Elain said mildly, as if that settled it.

Gwyn set her pen down, rubbing her temples. "They can't really be independently verified, and scholarly work needs to be reproducible."

"There's not much point to seeing the future if I don't share what I know, now is there?"

"You should write something more than just a footnote that says 'This was once revealed to me in a dream.'"

They'd gone back and forth on this for years—it would be remiss to exclude relevant information Elain had gleaned from a vision, but in the bibliography, it couldn't quite be categorized as a firsthand account or an interview. Gwyn had asked the scholars in the library for advice, but seers were so rare that no one had ever given the issue much thought.

The argument could go on for hours if they let it, and Elain had no intention of ruining their evening. She closed her book and stood, crossing the room and wrapping her arms around Gwyn's shoulders.

"I appreciate your attention to detail all the same."

Gwyn smiled—even with her, Elain couldn't quite manage to stop being a bit prim and diplomatic. The sound of it was just as familiar as Elain's jasmine-and-honey scent. "I appreciate you all the same."

Elain pressed a kiss to Gwyn's cheek. "Appreciate you more."

Gwyn couldn't ignore a challenge like that. With all the strength and grace of a Valkyrie, she turned and slid both hands under Elain, lifting her wife as she rose to her feet. Elain let out a surprised laugh and locked her legs around Gwyn's waist.

"Do you have a source for that claim?" Gwyn said. It must have gotten on Elain's nerves just the way she'd hoped it would—Elain leaned down and kissed her, immediately parting Gwyn's lips with her tongue. Gwyn carried her without breaking the kiss, taking a few steps forward until Elain's back was pressed against the bookshelf.

Gwyn might have been the one who had Elain pinned, but Elain's hand drifted to her hair, fingers tangling in the strands to keep her right where Elain wanted her. Not that Gwyn wanted to be anywhere else—she'd stay there forever if she could, with Elain's mouth on hers and her hands splayed on Elain's ass.

Neither one of them was sure exactly how much time had passed when they finally broke apart, flushed and breathing a bit harder. But as intoxicating as Elain was, Gwyn was still lucid enough to remember that she'd never gotten an answer to her question. "Do you?" she said, pushing for a response. "Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, Elain."

Elain let her head tip forward until their foreheads were touching. "Take me to the bedroom and allow me to demonstrate my appreciation, then."

The rest of the proofreading could wait until morning.

#gwynlain #gwyneth berdara #elain archeron

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separatist-apologist · 10 months

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We Never Go Out Of Style

Could end in burning flames or paradise

Summary: When Gwyn breaks up with her boyfriend on the eve of Nesta's destination wedding, Nesta Archeron has only one objective: set Gwyn up with her high school crush.

Note: Based on this tweet from @heathermcwrites: "One of my bridesmaids just broke up with her bf who was supposed to come to my wedding & I was sad for her for about 3 seconds until I remembered that her crush will also be at the wedding (single) and I'm now more committed to this 2nd chance romance than to my own marriage."

"I should also note that this is a destination wedding so there are EVEN MORE opportunities for uh…shenanigans"

“This whole week has been a bachelorette party, Nes,” Emerie complained from Nesta’s couch. One slim arm was thrown over her eyes, dark hair a tangled mass against the pillows. Gwyn nodded, slumped on the hard floor while her feet rubbed against the soft, black and white shag carpet sitting just beneath a coffee table. Gwyn didn’t bother mentioning that Cassian’s ass cheeks were imprinted on the glass, though her eyes kept drifting toward it.

How had they not broken it?

That didn’t matter? Not when Nests flung open the curtains in her suite living room, earning groans of protest from the very hungover Gwyn and Emerie. “Turn it off, Nesta.”

“I can’t turn off the sun, Em,” Nesta replied. “And it’s almost noon. Don’t make me spend the day with my sisters.”

“Why not?” Gwyn asked, turning to bury her face in the squishy, leather couch. “They went to bed earlier than we did.”

“Come on. Lets do the work out class in the pool and have a few drinks—”

Both Emerie and Gwyn groaned again at the mention of alcohol. The Archeron sisters could drink like fish, and wake up just as pretty as they’d started. Not Gwyn, though. After their hike, Nesta and Cassian had wanted to go to another club, where drinks were half off if you were a lady. Had Gwyn taken advantage, flirting with men at the bar only to pass drinks along to Azriel—and Cassian, if he was nearby? Yes.

And what had it gotten her? Passed out on the floor of Nesta’s suite while Azriel was god knows where, all while her friend was hoping for a repeat.

“I can’t, Nesta. My mouth is dry.”

“Drink some water,” Nesta said casually before vanishing behind a doorway. She returned moments later with two of her own swimsuits. Neither Gwyn nor Emerie made any attempt at catching them, leaving the red fabric hanging in her hair. No matter what they said, Gwyn knew she and Emerie would put them on and be in the pool within an hour.

“Will you braid my hair?” she asked of Emerie instead, ignoring the soft sound of triumph that left Nesta’s throat. Emerie peeked open a pretty brown eye, glazed from the bad sleep they’d gotten, and mumbled that sounded mostly like agreement. Maybe a little swearing, too, which Nesta promptly ignored.

“Cassian bought a bunch of frozen breakfast burritos. Want me to microwave—”

“Yes.” They said it in unison, the most certain either Gwyn or Emerie had been all day. While Nesta powered up the microwave and moved through the kitchen with the same efficiency she employed in the courtroom, Gwyn tried not to complain too much when Emerie began dragging a brush through her hair before snapping little plastic ponytails against Gwyn’s scalp to create two thick, cute bubble braids.

The smell of cheese and peppers filled the air, turning Gwyn’s stomach hollow with hunger. She scarfed one down while Nesta watched, triumphant. “It’s fixing you, isn’t it?”

“No,” she lied. “Make me another.”

Nesta only laughed, pretty as ever in another black bikini that somehow made her seem impossibly tan. Gwyn retreated to the bathroom, throwing on the red suit that Cassian probably loved on Nesta given the scraps of fabric held together by flimsy string. She tried not to think too much about what Azriel might think.

But she wondered, all the same, if he’d have any reaction at all. She traded places with Emerie, scarfing down another piping hot burrito and chugging a cold glass of orange juice before she said a word.

“You know, I have an actual bachelorette plan for this weekend,” Gwyn began, drumming her fingers against the laminate countertop. “I’ve been putting it together since we got here.” “Cassian told me,” Nesta admitted, eliciting a choked sound of outrage from Gwyn.

“How—Azriel.”

Nesta grimaced. “They don’t keep secrets. Cassian especially. It sounds really fun, Gwyn,” Nesta added, though Gwyn could see she didn’t really mean it.

A little offended, Gwyn asked, “What’s wrong with the night I have planned?”

“No Cassian.”

Gwyn spluttered. “That—that’s the whole point! You have your whole life to see Cassian!”

Nesta nodded, chewing the inside of her cheek. “What if we combined them—”

“Then it’s just a regular night! A stripper was coming, Nes,” she added, snapping her fingers in front of Nesta’s face. “And not just any stripper, but an Italian stripper, which I was assured is better than a regular one.”

“Cassian would probably think that’s very funny—”

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Gwyn grumbled. “Why would you wait until now to tell me?”

“I thought maybe Azriel would convince you—”

“Why would you think that?” Gwyn demanded, suddenly defensive. Nesta’s cheeks seemed to darken even as those silvery blue eyes flashed a warning. Gwyn was going to lose this fight. Nesta shook her head, brushing strands of her that had escaped her own braided hair from her face.

“I—”

“He’s obviously into you,” Emerie interrupted, strolling into the room in a vibrant purple two piece. She’d braided her hair, too, which warmed Gwyn. They’d been wearing the same hairstyle for years, and not even marriage was going to stop that. No matter how chaotic their lives got, they were still friends first. “We all saw that picture he put up, too. That man doesn’t have one woman on his grid but now he’s got you.”

Nesta was fiddling with the ties at the front of her swimsuit. Quietly—so quietly Gwyn barely heard her, she murmured, “I put you two in the same room.”

“You what?!”

Nesta sighed. “When you ended things, he called me. Wanted to know why, and how to get you back blah blah blah. I didn’t help him, but…you had that crush on Azriel in high school—”

“Oh my God,” Gwyn mumbled, putting her head in her hands. “And this whole time…I thought…”

“Did it work, at least?” Emerie asked curiously, picking up one of the microwave burritos from a paper plate. “Have you…you know?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“That’s a yes,” Nesta said, slapping a high five out with Emerie. “Do you like him?”

“I’m not answering that, either. I’m feeling a little betrayed right now. ”

Nesta sighed. “Well, don’t. It was done out of love for you both—Azriel is stupid when it comes to women and you…God, Gwyn, do you have any idea how much it has sucked watching you lose yourself to Jonathon?”

Gwyn looked between her friends, heart pounding. Emerie grimaced.

“He made you so small,” she murmured, squeezing Gwyn’s hand.

“All he did was complain,” Nesta added darkly. “The amount of times I had to remind Cassian he couldn’t hit him…” Nesta shook her head.

“It doesn’t have to be Azriel,” Emerie amended hastily. “It just seemed like maybe you two…”

“So you both knew?” Gwyn asked flatly, unsure how she felt about the whole thing. Though a new, more terrible thought was settling in her chest. “Did Az—”

“No!” Nesta said quickly. “God, no. Not even Cassian knew.”

“Because he—”

“Can’t keep a secret, yeah,” Nesta agreed. Gwyn exhaled a breath. If Azriel had known, Gwyn thought she would have had to pack up her things and fly home, change her name, and start over in an entirely new city. “He doesn’t know. And it seems like he likes you. Rhys told Cassian Azriel said something that made him think so. He didn’t say what, though.”

Gwyn could have admitted she and Azriel slept together. Could have put Nesta and Emerie out of their misery and told the truth. Instead, she clarified, “So, this whole time, you’ve been playing matchmaker during your wedding?”

Nesta nodded without an ounce of shame. “I’m more committed to your romance than my own marriage, Gwyn. Don’t be mad,” she added, the closest Gwyn would get to an apology. “You’re so stubborn…if I’d told you what I was thinking, you would have avoided him on principle.”

“Yeah, and I probably wouldn’t have slept with him in the airplane bathroom,” she grumbled.

Emerie burst out laughing. “I didn’t believe Mor when she told me she saw you two go in there. She’s going to die—”

“Do not tell her!” Gwyn shrieked. “Tell no one.”

Emerie and Nesta, eyes bright with delight that their scheming had worked immediately, nodded their heads in agreement. God, how had they even gotten here? Looking up at the popcorn ceiling overhead, Gwyn forced herself to say, “It’s not like that between me and Azriel. It’s…this is just a vacation thing. Proximity—”

“Oh, bullshit!” Nesta exploded while Emerie swallowed the laughter causing her shoulders to shake. “Azriel isn’t capable of casual anything.”

Gwyn wanted to believe that. He’d said a lot of things, always with his cock in her body. Never…never without. And Gwyn was cautious to trust anything a man said in the middle of sex given he was likely to say anything he thought she wanted to hear if it meant he got to finish.

“I don’t know how we got here,” Gwyn grumbled, rubbing her eyes with the tips of her fingers. “Do not meddle, okay? If you want to change the bachelorette party tonight, that's on you.”

“Finally,” Nesta breathed, her delight evident.

“Control freak,” Emerie teased.

And somehow, everything was fine. All Gwyn’s resentment melted away as they devolved into silly teasing, finishing their food and drinks before heading out into the hot Italian air. The sun bounced off the flagstones, blinding the three of them until they clutched at each other, giggling and lamenting that they’d forgotten to put on sunscreen. Gwyn’s hat and sunglasses were in the room she shared with Azriel, and today she didn’t dare run down to get them. She’d hoped to avoid Azriel until she knew how to tell him they’d been set up.

It didn’t matter, at any rate. He was already laid out in a pool chair, mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes, arms folded behind his head while one muscular leg was bent at the knee, causing the muscles in his abdomen to flex obscenely.

It was absurd, how handsome he was. More absurd when he lowered his glasses to look at her walk past him—as if both Nesta and Emerie didn’t immediately notice. He wasn’t beating the not interested charges, which both annoyed and thrilled her. Azriel didn’t seem to notice the group of beautiful blondes in the pool all laughing loudly, hoping for his attention. Nor did he pay them any mind as they continued to get out of the pool, dripping wet as they slicked their hair back right in front of him.

Even after he’d put his mirrored shades back on, Gwyn could feel his gaze burning against her skin.

Azriel isn’t capable of anything causal.

To find out the truth, she was going to have to just ask him flat out what he wanted. And if he wanted to keep this going when they got home—for real, and not when he was erect or drunk or lost to romantic moonlight. Gwyn swallowed.

It was better to know.

Right?

AZRIEL:

“What was the point of asking me to throw you a bachelor party if we were going to end up with the girls?” Azriel grumbled, thinking of all the wasted money Cassian was flushing down the toilet. It didn’t matter if Rhysand and Nesta had venmoed him more than he’d spent—it was the principle of the thing. He’d paid for a stripper. And not just any stripper, but an Italian stripper, which was, apparently, better than American ones.

“Nes wants to be together tonight,” Cassian said, flashing Azriel a grin. So much for a nice night out—Azriel was wearing a pair of salmon colored shorts and a white and blue Hawaiian shirt wholly unbuttoned and a lei around his neck. Cassian’s choice, of course, tied together with flip flops that made him feel like a middle aged dad on a Florida beach.

“You’ll be with her your whole life,” Azriel reminded him, for all the good it did. They were still at the resort for a themed beach night at the adults-only club, and judging from the others he’d seen, their clothes weren’t creative.

The girls were worse—or better, depending on your point of view. Better, because they were in bikini tops and tied sarongs, and worse because every fucking man with eyes was hovering, hoping to drag one of them home. Rhys immediately pushed onto the pulsating dance floor, mere shadow in the black lit dark. Feyre didn’t seem to mind the attention, or was merely trying to get a rise out of Azriel’s brother.

And Rhysand was so, so stupid he fell for it every single time. Azriel wondered if they’d be married next.

At the bar, Elain Archeron was carefully arranging glasses filled with pale, pink liquid on a circular tray. That seemed safe enough—he was terrified to look for Gwyn and see her with another man. A distraction was exactly what he needed.

And a drink.

Or maybe six.

“Want help?” he asked Elain. She looked up, relieved to find him and not one of the crawling creeps. Glancing just behind her, Azriel found Lucien Vanserra having a loud conversation with his brothers wife, oblivious to his own being hit on simply for breathing. How could Nesta and Cassian find this preferable to a quiet evening with food and strippers?

“Yes,” she nodded, shouting over the thudding music. Azriel took the tray and brought it to her husband while Elain began doling them out with a pleased smile.

“Can we try not to get so wrecked tonight?” Emeries voice pulled Azriel from his eyes off Elain and found Gwyn standing close enough to touch. Back in that red top that had been haunting him since he’d seen it at the pool. Did she even know the effect she was having? He wished she’d kept the braids in her hair, though her thick, cinnamon colored hair fell in thick waves down her back which was erotic in its own kind of way.

He wanted to wrap it around his wrist until her back was arched in the air. She hadn’t come home the night before, likely tucked in with Nesta but Azriel’s imagination had run wild. He imagined her all night with another man, writhing with pleasure and screaming his name.

Cassian had told him when he woke up he’d found Gwyn asleep in the bathroom, one arm flung over the closed lid of the toilet, and Emerie on the couch wrapped up in one of his shirts. Azriel hadn’t dared to ask why Cassian was telling him that, though the knot of anxiety that had formed in chest eased significantly when he learned she was safe—and still his.

Gwyn offered him a tentative smile before throwing back her shot. So much skin was on display—so much he could touch without anyone thinking twice. In fact, Azriel could see her breasts peeking from the bottom of the swim top, taunting him when Gwyn stepped back, shaking her head with a grimace.

Cheeks flushed, she said, “That was awful.”

“It’s a barbie shot!” Elain told her cheerfully, pushing one toward Azriel. Gwyn’s eyes found him again, smiling sweetly before she took Emerie’s hand and led her back out onto the dance floor.

Fuck. Holding his glass, Azriel couldn’t drag his eyes off the sway of her hips or the way her hair swished back and forth.

A heavy hand clapped on Azriel’s shoulder, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin. Cassian, just behind, grinned. “Want to dance?”

Azriel leveled a flat stare. He’d never danced a day in his life—he wasn’t about to start now. He was content to watch. Cassian, too, given he beckoned for Azriel to follow him up a set of grimy stairs where beautiful women came down, eyeing him up and down and running their hands down his chest while pretending there was so little space they had to touch him.

Normally that kind of would amuse him, but today it irritated him.

“I paid for a private room,” Cassian told him, the music quieter as he pushed into a door with his tattooed shoulder. It was nice, with a long, semi-circular table with booth and chair seating and a glass window overlooking the dance floor beneath. The stripper pole in the middle of the room made Azriel wish he hadn’t canceled the one he’d paid for Cassian’s bachelor party.

“Should have kept the stripper,” Rhys said, reading Azriel’s thoughts.

“Maybe we can get Nesta—”

“No!” Rhys and Azriel said at once, falling into their seats with wide eyes.

“Don’t make this weird, man,” Azriel added as Cassian chuckled. “Save that for tonight.”

“Is this what you wanted?” Rhys asked Cassian, who pulled up a chair across from them.

“It will be when the pizzas get up here. I know…look, I know you two really tried, but I don’t need one last night of freedom. I don’t want to pretend to be single.”

Azriel and Rhys sighed, though neither could pretend to be surprised. All Cassian had ever wanted was Nesta. It made sense, he supposed, that Cassian would want to spend this night with her, too. He knew, from the look on Rhys’s face, that the same soft jealousy he felt was echoed in his brother.

They wanted what Cassian had.

“We can do strippers when Feyre decides to marry Rhys,” Cassian added with a laugh.

“Yeah fucking right,” Rhys grumbled, cheeks flushed. “Not if I want to keep my balls.”

“Az, then.”

“Don’t look at me,” he replied, heart thumping loudly. “I’m not getting married anytime soon.”

He wondered what Cassian knew when he replied rather smugly, “We’ll see.”

Had Gwyn told Nesta? Or had Rhys told Cassian? That seemed the most likely given Rhys was suddenly studiously examining his fingernails. He was spared a confrontation by Elain Archeron, repaying the distraction favor, albeit unwittingly, to bring up more shots, along with the Vanserra brothers.

“Nice,” Lucien said, setting a round of beers in front of them. “Bottle service?”

“Do I look cheap, Vanserra?” Cassian replied with a grin.

“Yes,” Eris responded, earning a warning smack in the chest from Elain. More people filed in, along with a very beautiful waitress and the bottle service Cassian had paid for. He barked at everyone to drink, and drink heavily, given it hadn’t come cheap. For the crowd they had, it seemed more than reasonable and no one paid him any mind when he ordered a glass of water and kept quietly to himself. He was waiting for an opening—one he found when Gwyn stumbled down the steps for the bathroom.

Azriel made his way after her, content in the knowledge that all their friends were too drunk to notice if they left together or not. And maybe this loud club wasn’t the place for a conversation, but when Gwyn pushed into the bathroom, Azriel followed right behind her.

“Is this a new kink I should be worried about?” she asked, though she still undid her bottoms to pee in front of him. Azriel turned, only a little embarrassed.

“I’ve been trying to talk to you all day.”

“Oh? Why is that, I wonder?” she asked, her voice just a little louder than usual. Okay, so maybe she was a little more drunk than he thought. Azriel hesitated.

“Because I like you.”

“Me? Or me naked?”

Oof. “Both,” he murmured, swallowing hard. “I ah…I wanted to talk about going home.”

Her laugh bounced off the tile walls. “Are we breaking up?”

A flush, and then Gwyn, flip flops slapping against the floor while she went to wash her hands.

“No. I want to see you when this is all over. Just you,” he added.

As my girlfriend, though Azriel didn’t know if he dared to add that. Not when she was looking at him with…was that amusement? Was he about to have his heart broken?

“Just me?” Gwyn asked, shaking her wet hands between them. “This is starting to sound like a confession.”

“I just told you I liked you,” he reminded her. Gwyn’s smile widened.

“So you want..what, exactly?”

“You,” he replied, daring to come closer. Close enough to touch her arms, to smell the scent of her shampoo and the salt on her skin from dancing. “With me and no one else.”

“So…your girlfriend.”

The urge to play it cool, to tell her no and hedge his bets rose through his throat and nearly spilled out of his mouth. Did she want to be casual still? To keep her options open? Azriel didn’t, and the thought of agreeing to that made him want to vomit on the floor.

“Yes.”

Gwyn’s brows shot skyward. He’d caught her by surprise, then. “Just you and me,” he added, so it was perfectly clear to her. “No one else.”

“Starting…when?”

“Starting now,” he replied, pulling her closer still. “Right now.”

“You should know something,” Gwyn said, before rushing to tell him the whole, sordid saga of Nesta’s manipulation. With flushed cheeks and averted eyes, Gwyn told him how they’d been paired together—and that Nesta had known she’d been single the entire time. Azriel waited patiently, unsure why it was so critical he know this. Did Gwyn think he was going to change his mind, or that proximity was the only thing drawing him to her?

He wanted her in the airport, well before they ever got seated together, and told her as much. It was hardly romantic, telling your would-be girlfriend that you fucked her in an airplane bathroom because your attraction was driving you insane, but Gwyn obviously needed to hear it.

But even if that hadn’t been true—he’d still want her. And would have thanked Nesta for hitting him over the face with it.

“So…so it doesn’t matter?” she asked, twining her arms around his neck.

“Never did,” he replied, pressing a kiss to her mouth. Azriel might have taken her right then and there, but a pounding against the door reminded him that they were not anywhere private—and there were limited bathrooms.

“I can’t leave,” Gwyn lamented, reading his mind.

“Don’t drink too much,” he said instead, selfishly wanting her more than he wanted to carry her back to their shared room, black out drunk until she threw up in his lap. “Cassian has pizza upstairs. You should eat some.”

“Insatiable,” Gwyn teased, unlocking the door and dragging him out with her. Everything was perfect. Better than perfect because for the first time, Azriel genuinely believed he could have what Cassian and Nesta did. That this might actually be it for him, and all he had to do was hold tight and try not to fuck it up too badly.

He never considered outside forces were conspiring against him. And he never thought, when they were back just outside the dance floor and he’d pulled her flush against his body for a languid, long-coming kiss, that anyone would even care.

“Gwyn!”

Gwyn froze, turning her head in slow motion. Azriel, too, turned to look at the masculine voice calling over the music. His stomach dropped to the floor. There, in an ugly green and blue striped tie and a long sleeved, white button down made of stifling polyester, stood Jonathon.

“Fuck,” Gwyn whispered.

Fuck, indeed.

#gwynriel #dont look at me like that #i finish everything eventually

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