#Helped Each Other When We Needed It {Nesta and Emerie}

[bookofmirth]

What could happen to the Prison in acotar5?

As a preview, this post is going to be hella long. It focuses on things we learned primarily on acosf and hofas. It also discusses the Illyrians and the Valkyries, Pegasuses, the 8-pointed star, and the fallout from Avallen being restored by Bryce. 

The tl;dr is that I think that the Valkyries (and potentially some Illyrians) could serve as guardians for the Prison, along with being a neutral political force and army in Prythian, not aligned with a specific court but rather being a balance between them all. 

Before you proceed, be aware that I tend towards analysis of the current content of the books, not theorizing about what will happen in the future, so this may not read like theories that other people in the fandom come up with. A majority of this is facts from the books, with me tying things together to think about the implications.

Part one: what we know based on HOFAS

First, it's helpful to get some context for what we know (for sure) about the Prison:

It was the land of dusk (not a Court in the way Prythian currently has courts).

After the events with Fionn, Theia, Helena, Silene, and Pelias, the land was mostly abandoned.

When Silene returned from Midgard, she created the Prison in order to hide the Harp, using the monsters she put there to deter anyone from looking for it. Silene decided if this place was seen as cursed, then let it be cursed.

We also find out that Silene left her portion of Theia's light under the Prison, which Bryce then took.

There is also a large cache of firstlight remaining under the Prison.

When Bryce used Truthteller and Gwydion/the Starsword to heal Avallen, Pegasuses appeared again.

Avallen and the Prison are in "thin" spots in the universe that make it easy to travel from one planet to the other (fwiw, this idea is not unique to sjm. See: Stephen King.) These spots are identifiable by the mists that surround them.

These thin spots are also on the nexus of ley lines, where energy flows.

It stands to reason that when Bryce "unlocked" Avallen, the energy and magic that it now experiences will flow to other places along the ley lines, IE the Prison. It's also implied that the land keeping the power imprisoned is one of the reasons it grew sick.

Bryce's actions in hofas have implications for Prythian. While the above is related to the Prison, we also have:

Nesta now has possession of the Starsword/Gwydion

Azriel's reaction to Truthteller and the Starsword being together

The 8-pointed star (more on that later)

Part two: what we know based on ACOSF

So based on this information, we need to go back to acosf and look at what sjm left for us. 

The main thing to keep in mind is that Nesta found the Harp in the Prison, and that it was laying on an 8-pointed star. 

One of the main dangling threads from acosf - that we know to be canon, that is not a theory or supposition - is that the Illyrians and the Valkyries are going to continue training together. We know that Mor is interested in training with the Valkyries. From hofas, we know that Nesta is every bit as well trained now as she was in the months since acosf.

Now, there are a couple of partially-fulfilled statements from acosf that I think are relevant here, in addition to Valkyries and Illyrians continuing to train.

The first is the wish that Nesta made on the friendship bracelets. 

"I wish for us to have the courage to go out into the world when we are ready, but to always be able to find our way back to each other. No matter what." (chp 59)

We know that in the Blood Rite, the second half of that wish was fulfilled. The first half has not been fulfilled yet. That gives us very good reason to assume that the first half will be fulfilled.

All three of them, Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn, will go out into the world at some point in the future. 

There is another, much larger implication that was made in acosf:

Nesta smirked. “If we are to be Valkyries born again,” she said, “maybe we should combine the Illyrian and Valkyrie techniques.” She’d meant it in jest, but the words rumbled through the space, as if she’d spoken some great truth, something that made fate sit up. Azriel turned to them fully this time, eyes narrowed. Like those shadows had whispered something to him. A chill breathed down Nesta’s spine. Cassian stared into their faces. Like he beheld something he hadn’t seen there before. (chp 44)

And the later on:

Gwyn whispered, “I am the rock against which the surf crashes.” Nesta straightened at the words, as if they were a prayer and a summons. Gwyn lifted the blade. “Nothing can break me.” Cassian’s throat tightened, and even from across the ring, he could see Nesta’s eyes gleaming with pride and pain. Emerie said, “Nothing can break us.” The world seemed to pause at the words. As if it had been following one path and now branched off in another direction. In a hundred years, a thousand, this moment would still be etched in his mind. That he would tell his children, his grandchildren, Right then and there. That was when it all changed. Azriel went wholly still, as if he, too, had felt the shift. As if he, too, were aware that far larger forces peered into that training ring as Gwyn moved. (chp 60)

SJM used similar phrasing in the same book for which we know the consequences: 

Strike after strike, and Cassian could have sworn the world paused as she unleashed herself with the same intensity she brought to training.

This is when Nesta is Making the weapons, which we find out later is actually a significant moment, not just Cassian being hyperbolic about how great his mate is. Then, when Nesta is using the Mask and Harp to heal Feyre, the world also pauses. This phrasing is used when something important is happening - even if we don't know what the implications are, yet.

Given that we know for sure that the Illyrians and the Valkyries are going to continue training, and there are loose threads because we don't know the implications of fate/the world standing up at Nesta's, Emerie's, and Gwyn's statements and/or actions, there is a very, very good chance that the Valkyries will continue being a big part of acotar. 

My final point about the Valkyries is that in myth, they rode horses through the sky - not Pegasuses because those are from Greek myth, and Valkyries are Norse. But they fly through the sky on horses nonetheless. (This is literally the only piece of evidence I have coming from outside the books.) Pegasuses are connected to Avallen and likely the Prison. We know that Helion keeps some, but they are struggling to breed/thrive. (We also know that sjm loves to take what she wants from myth, so it’s not a stretch to think she’d shrug at the Greek/Norse distinction.)

All of this together tells me that the Valkyries have more story coming, and it is connected to the Illyrians'.

Part three: The 8-pointed star

A common thread between both series is the 8-pointed star. There are a few ways in which it is used:

Nesta and Cassian's bargain tattoo in acosf. They both had this tattoo on them - an Illyrian and a Valkyrie. 

Bryce also has the 8-pointed star on her chest that glows when she is near people who will aid her or who are part of the Starborn line. When she took the piece of Theia's light, it went into her star and powered her up.

The Harp was resting on an 8-pointed star in the Prison, where Silene left it.

In HOFAS, Bryce put Truthteller and Gwydion into the slots of an 8-pointed star in order to revive Avallen.

When training, Cassian teaches the Valkyries the 8-pointed star sequence. This is a series of moves that they make with a sword, and is an Illyrian technique. 

Cassian walked her through eight different cuts and blocks. Each was an individual move, he’d explained, and like the punches, they could be combined. (chp 38) “I’d thought today would be a good day to integrate the eight-pointed star, but if you’re already complaining, we can wait until next week.” (chp 44) Nesta lifted the sword and executed a perfect arcing slash. Her weight shifted to her legs just as she flipped the blade, leading with the hilt, and brought up her arm against an invisible blow. Another shift and the sword swept down, a brutal slash that would have sliced an opponent in half. Each slice was perfect. Like that eight-pointed star was stamped on her very heart. (chp 50)

And finally, at the end of HOFAS, Bryce gives Gwydion to Nesta and tells her to explore the 8-pointed star:

“I think that eight-pointed star was tattooed on you for a reason. Take that sword and go figure out why.”

Note that it’s not just a matter of the star, anymore. Both Cassian and Nesta were tattooed with it; Bryce used Gwydion and Truthteller to activate the star in Avallen. And now, Nesta is in possession of Gwydion with knowledge about the Prison and a connection to the star. There are elements coming together, and those elements are connected to both Illyrians AND Valkyries. 

My thinking is that the 8-pointed star is the symbol of the dusk land, the Starborn Princes in Midgard (Theia) and in Prythian, of the first and only High King. If that land is where the Valkyries will be reborn and where Starborn power is from, and we know it is the source of a huge cache of firstlight, then that star is a symbol of what has been lost - and what is about to be revived.

So now the question is - what part will the Valkyries and Illyrians play?

Part four: What might happen to the Prison?

To sum up the above, and adding on a couple of small points that don’t fit elsewhere:

We know that the Illyrians and Valkyries will continue training

We have very heavy-handed phrasing around the world/fate paying attention to the idea of the Valkyries being reborn and working with Illyrians.

We have the connection between Valkyries, Illyrians, and the 8-pointed star because it is also an Illyrian sword technique that is being taught to the Valkyries.

We know that the Prison is going to go through some changes akin to puberty.

In addition, we have Gwyn being allowed to write the Valkyries into the books she is researching. 

SJM has also said that Nesta’s story is going to continue.

Since we know that the Prison is going to change and there are these characters and groups poised for action - I haven’t even touched on Ramiel and the Illyrians being created by the Dagsteri, Azriel and his connection to Truthteller and Enalius, and his reaction to the TT/Gwydion, and will do that in a separate post - we can make some predictions about how that might look. If it’s going to make sense, sjm has to think beyond the magic system that she has… sort-of established, and past the involvement of individual characters. There are a few things to take into consideration with the Prison.

It is very likely that Pegasuses will return to the island as it is suffused with magic and energy again. 

There are also other, unforeseen magical consequences as the magic flows back into it, thanks to the ley lines being “unblocked” by Bryce. 

It may become easier for people/creatures to travel between worlds, given that it is a thin place that has been "unlocked". 

The Prison is still full of prisoners! They are monsters that Silene gathered to hide the Harp, but... does that mean they just get released? Get slaughtered? Do they now have access to the power of the island? What is going to happen with them? 

The High Lords cannot all be trusted to stay within their own courts, minding their own business. Beron is the most obvious example, as he has his eye on Spring while Tamlin is Suffering. 

If there were another court established, one that sits on a huge reserve of firstlight, that could be a huge point of contention amongst the courts. Even if the High Lords don’t want it for themselves, they wouldn’t want anyone else to have it on the chance that one of them would use it against the others. In acomaf, Rhys explains that the Prison is keyed to his blood and that he has jurisdiction of it; however:

“Do all the High Lords have access?” My words were so soft they were devoured by the dark. Even that thrumming power in my veins had vanished, burrowing somewhere in my bones. “No. The Prison is law unto itself; the island may be even an eighth court. But it falls under my jurisdiction, and my blood is keyed to the gates.” (chp 18)

We don’t know yet what that reserve of firstlight is going to mean for the island.

To me, it makes sense for us to have a more neutral third party come in. One who doesn’t have ties to a specific court, but could act in all of their interests. 

Enter: the newly reformed Valkyries. 

I have had a personal headcanon that the Valkyries, once fully established, could create another political/martial entity in Prythian that can help balance the power between all the courts, and provide support when needed. This is how they worked before, which Cassian talks about in acosf: 

“The Valkyries fought when even the bravest males would not. The Illyrians tried to forget that. I fought against males who were my superiors, arguing to help the Valkyries. They beat me senseless, chained me to a supply wagon, and left me there. When I came to, the battle was over, the Valkyries slain.”

Valkyries and Illyrians don’t have the best history, but given that Cassian tried to help them, and that they are working together now, this could be a way of righting a wrong. It could help to explain why fate/the world is taking note. 

The Valkyrie ethos makes sense for this sort of neutral position, too:

“A clan of female warriors from another territory. They were better fighters than the Illyrians, even. The Valkyrie name was just a title, though—they weren’t a race like the Illyrians. They hailed from every type of Fae, usually recruited from birth or early childhood. They had three stages of training: Novice, Blade, and finally Valkyrie. To become one was the highest honor in their land. Their territory is gone now, subsumed into others.”

An improved Valkyrie force, especially if they continue learning Illyrian techniques and recruiting from women across Prythian, could be a big factor in upcoming conflicts with Kochei or any other villain sjm comes up with. They would ensure that the firstlight would be used fairly, so that no court is advantaged or disadvantaged unfairly. It would continue the threads that sjm has left for us, while also giving us space to explore questions that have yet to be answered (such as Azriel’s connection to Truthteller and Enalius). While I think that Nesta would keep her home in the House of Wind, the Prison island would be a good place from which the Valkyries can work - both guarding the monsters that are there, and keeping the firstlight safe.

I believe that Nesta will be the most important character when it comes to reviving the island; while it is heavily implied that the island is already going to have access to its powers thanks to being impacted by Avallen's healing - it is likely already on its way to healing - Nesta with her connection to the 8-pointed star, the Harp, possession of Gwydion, and the Valkyries can help bring stability to the place.

Thank you a million times to the people who helped me fact check and keep things straight, or just listened to me rant about this: @hellacioushag @lily-thesuriel @elains @aionuel @yazthebookish @fracturedarkness and @/michaelanoelreads on TikTok :) @highqueenmorrigan (Mary I forgot you brought up the sword technique thank you for that!)

#hofas #hofas spoilers #acotar/cc #spoilers #Leslie reads hofas #my meta #kinda meta kinda theory #whatever! #the valkyries #acotar5

[quill-and-the-curse]

Healthy Competition

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: None :)

Taglist: @cityofidek, @valeridarkness

A/N: Y'all...writing this was so much fun. I kind of want to do a smutty Part 2. Let me know if you'd be interested in reading that! Anyways, thanks for reading <3

+ Part 2

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There was always a competitive edge during the training sessions with the inner circle. Cassian and Azriel were always fighting to prove something. Who was better with a sword, who was better at hand to hand combat, who was better at archery. Feyre and Nesta would often challenge each other on drills, while Gwyn and Emerie fought over simple things like who had the best stance or best balance. 

Rhysand claims the competition keeps things exciting and encourages everyone to work harder. You hate that you agree with him, but it made training less of a chore and more of a game. 

What you did not expect was the rivalry between you and the Shadowsinger. Every morning, you two were the first two ready to go. You’d always been overly punctual, mainly for your own sanity. During the sessions, you began to notice Azriel catching quick glances of you to gauge how you were performing. 

At first it flattered you, because you knew you were a high performer and the fact that Az was concerned you’d beat him did stroke your ego. But it quickly turned tense, because you too became concerned that you would be outperformed. Staying leveled with Azriel was your only concern. You wouldn’t allow him to overshadow you, you would represent the Valkyries to prove that females can be fierce warriors too. 

Outside of training, your relationship with Azriel was contentious. You and him would bicker like children one moment, and would be laughing together at something Cass said the next. It was all very confusing to the rest of the inner circle. 

You regarded Azriel as a pain in the ass, but gods he was captivating. During said competitive training sessions, you’d often catch yourself watching the way his sweat left a thin layer all over his body, making him look like a god. You would also watch his muscles flex while he completed his drills. Something about his back caused you to nearly go feral. All you wanted to do lick him.

But you knew he didn’t feel the same about you. You were nothing like the other females he has been interested in. You weren’t as thin or toned, your legs weren’t as long, and you didn’t have the grace of a delicate flower. You were a warrior, you spoke loudly and dressed for comfort and efficiency over style. It was difficult not to compare yourself to Mor and Elaine. They were perfect. It made sense why Azriel longed for them. You just couldn’t help but envy them for it.

It was a regular morning when things took a turn. You rose with the Sun, and began to get ready for training. You were particularly excited because you received a new set of leathers from Feyre as a gift, and it was time to break them in. After trying them on, you felt extremely self conscious. They fit, but they clung to every part of you for dear life. 

You just needed a day or two for them to adjust. You could make it that long. 

Upon arriving to the training ring, Mor and Feyre approached you quickly.

“Are those the new leathers, Y/N?” Feyre asked excitedly. 

You returned a smile. “Yeah, though they are a little tight right now, they are so nice. I didn’t realize how bad I needed a new set. Thanks again.”

Mor chuckled and looked you up and down with wide eyes. “Y/N, these leathers are working wonders for your ass. Holy gods!”

Your cheeks instantly flush. “Stooooop.” Your hands went up to cover your face to hide your embarrassment. 

“I was thinking the same thing but didn’t want to mention it first. Y/N, turn around for me! I want to see!” Feyre lifted your hand above your head, cueing you to do a spin. 

From the distance, you hear Rhys approaching. “What’s going on here, hmm? Shouldn’t we be warming up?”

“How can I do such a thing when Y/N’s phenomenal ass is distracting me? I couldn’t possibly focus on anything else,” Mor responded to Rhys. His response was only a small chuckle, and then he clapped his hands and announced, “Alright! Let’s begin everyone. No more small talk.”

You were thankful, because you didn’t know how you would handle your High Lord checking out your ass. He was like a brother to you.

Training went off without a hitch, but you were struggling to perform as well as you usually do due to the restriction of your new outfit. You knew to expect this, but it was still frustrating beyond belief. 

You were too scared to look at Az to see how he was doing, because you had a suspicion that he was going to win today. And you couldn’t look at the smirk he would wear when he realized that too. You’d want to punch him too badly. And his face was too perfect to fuck up.

But one peak wouldn’t kill you. When you looked up, Azriel was staring at you. But not your face, no. He was looking directly at your ass. Normally you would’ve said something, with the hopes that it would throw him off of his game. But you decided to ride this out a bit longer. Maybe continuing to let your glorious behind distract him would land you the win after all. 

And it seemed to be working, because after catching him looking at you, he’d been struggling. After every arrow he shot, he let out a frustrated growl. None of them were landing where he wanted them to. It took all of your strength not to laugh.

Males were so predictable. If all it took to guarantee your victory was wearing a pair of extra tight leather pants, then you were about to be on a winning streak. 

A part of you found it cute. Azriel was so flushed and beside himself, and it was honestly adorable. 

Before you knew it, training was over and everyone was headed to their respective destinations. Azriel was quick to make his leave, probably to go sulk in his chambers about his tragic loss. 

You opted to head to the library. Last night, you were up later than you should’ve been reading your book. You ended up finishing it on accident. It was too good to put down. So you were on a quest for your next story to get lost in. 

The library was a very peaceful place. The smell of the parchment combined with the white noise and ambient lighting could lull you to sleep. There were countless nights where you would accidentally fall asleep in an arm chair, with a book resting on your chest. Azriel would sometimes carry you to your room, claiming that the chairs were uncomfortable and he didn’t want you to be stiff at training the next day. Then it wouldn’t be as fun beating you. 

Azriel was an avid reader too. You often stumbled into him in the library, and sometimes you would chat for a while.

So it was no surprise when you found Azriel sitting in the very armchair where you’ve slumbered, reading a book. 

You cleared your throat to make your presence known. He looked up, and you could see the flush return to his face at the sight of you. Still clad in those gods damned leathers.

“You alright?” You ask him. He just nods with a grunt in return.

Sighing, you sit on the chair across from his. “We all have our bad days, Az. Sulking won’t change anything.”

Annoyance was clear on his face. “I’m not sulking. I’m thinking.”

You raised your brow. “Thinking? About what? Your monumental loss today?”

To your surprise, your snide remark didn’t bother him as much as you meant it to. He just seemed to remain still, a look of contemplation adorning his features. 

“No sassy response? Gods, Azriel, you must really be going through it. Were you distracted today?” You ask. You wondered if he could pick up on the slight provocation in your tone.

His eyes finally met yours. “You could say that.”

You stood up and began pacing around the bookshelves near him. “And what, may I ask, were you distracted by?”

Before he could answer, you deviously stood up on your toes to reach a book. You knew this angle did many favors for your ass. And you prayed Azriel was looking. This was too much fun.

He was, in fact, looking directly at your ass. You observed him do so, and his eyes slowly returned to yours. 

“Do you like my new leathers? I feel like I look ridiculous, but Feyre and Mor seem to like them. What do you think?”

The color drained from his face. “I-uh…they look n-nice. You wear them well.”

Butterflies erupted in your stomach. “Thank you. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go read in my bed. See you at dinner, Shadowsinger.”

You walked away from him, making sure to sway your hips a bit more than usual. 

You couldn’t wait for training tomorrow. 

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Let me know if you'd be interested in reading a smutty Part 2 👀

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar #acomaf #acofas #acosf #sarah j maas #acotar imagine

[elliemarchetti]

Gwynriel Weeks Day 6

For this day of @gwynrielweeksofficial I would like to propose, in addition to a subversion of the usually male-driven realization of the mating bond, also a possible friendship between Gwyn and Elain. I hate when authors pit women against each other for the sake of a man, and both characters, who I find could get along extremely well, are very dear to me, so I hope you could enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it (on company time, so please don’t be mad if you find some mistakes).

Prompt: Mates

Words: 1021

Gwyn had never been very interested in the concept of mates before meeting Elain. Nesta's younger sister, but not the youngest of the Archerons, had the High Lord himself take her to the library to find out more about what could happen in case she decided to reject the bond tethering her to Lucien Vanserra and stayed at the House for a few nights, waking up early in the morning and going to bed late at night, her lovely button nose buried in the pages and her back bent over countless books. At first, Gwyn hadn’t approached her. Something had happened between the lady and Azriel, and although she had no right to be jealous, she had felt a note of annoyance at the idea. She had felt guilty, because the priestesses had taught her not to be possessive, and childish, since Azriel didn’t look at her like that, but in the end curiosity and kindness had won, and when Elain had asked her for help, they ended up chatting. She was different from how she had imagined her, not a warrior in the physical sense of the word, but a resilient creature, still torn between her mortal and Fae selves.

“I shouldn’t bore you with this nonsense,” she told her one afternoon, over a cup of hot tea. But Gwyn wasn’t bored, on the contrary, the more she listened, the more she understood about herself too. She had suffered a little when she saw her leave, declaring that her mind was clearer but she still needed to think before deciding, but she soon rejoiced when she saw her return, a basket full of apple and cinnamon biscuits, which she had told her were her favourites.

“I’ve realized I can’t choose if I don’t leave the Night Court’s comfort zone. Here every time I meet him I’m monitored, with Rhysand and Feyre watching my every move and Nesta and Azriel ready to slit his throat at the slightest hint of discomfort on my part. They don’t seem to understand ours isn’t a normal bond, and before establishing a relationship there will be moments of sadness to face together, embarrassing conversations that will have to be had in order to figure out if we want to continue in that direction, and maybe some mistakes will be necessary too to make things right,” she had said once they were alone.

“So you mean to leave?” Gwyn had asked, and unexpectedly she felt her heart tighten in her chest at the idea of losing her.

“Not permanently,” her new friend had replied, “and whenever I will return, I will come here to tell you about my travels and ask if you would like to join us. Rhysand would be thrilled to know that in addition to two emissaries, one of his spies would have free access to all Courts.”

Gwyn had blushed at that implication, she was still in the midst of her training and no one should know about it, but Elain had mentioned it so casually she had probably seen her succeed in one of her visions. They had never talked much about her powers, except when she told her she had seen images of her and her mate together, making her not particularly surprised when, on the third or fourth visit, she announced with a beaming expression that she had accepted the bond.

“I prepared a great dinner, and forced him to eat everything like a civilized being before approaching me,” she had told her, and they had laughed at the matter, exchanging the recipes mentioned and whispering like little girls who feared being caught discussing something forbidden when the details of the frenzy became obscener. Gwyn had never spoken that way to Emerie and Nesta, who knew what had happened to her in Sangravah, but she still found it refreshing, and it helped her delve into some of the more suggestive reading that her friends had never recommended to her. Not that she didn’t talk with Nesta about her relationship with Cassian, but the Lord of Bloodshed and her fellow Valkyrie were more tumultuous, caught up in constant bickering that ended in wild, noisy sex. It was a different bond, because they were different people than Elain and Lucien, all properness and secrecy, but they made her curious about other mated couples. The most obvious was the relationship between the High Lord and Lady, a connection based on sharing: he was part of her, they spoke telepathically, they flew together with those special wings only they possessed and they had a death pact, to go down the road to death at the same time. A little codependent, for Gwyn’s taste, but after all it wasn’t up to her to judge, since she didn’t have a mate of her own.

Obviously, like any girl, she had thought about the characteristics she would like her Cauldron chosen to have. A strong male but capable of infinite sweetness, who knew how to work with his hands and at the same time caress her as if she was the most fragile creature in the world. An intelligent Fae incapable of presumption, who listened to her talk endlessly about the things she had learned and in turn had something to teach her. She would’ve liked them to have shared interests, and she had revelled in the idea he was someone who didn’t constantly need external reassurance, someone who saw her and her truth as enough, but it was only a daydream, qualities she could’ve found in anyone and not necessary a mate, although every now and then the idea of belonging to someone who could understand her soul, she who had no certain roots and who had lost her entire family, intrigued her. But it was just a game, definitely not something she expected to find far from Prythian, in an unknown village, in the middle of a dangerous mission, in the form of the only non-foreign person within miles. A wave of panic washed over her at the overwhelming realization that Azriel Shadowsinger was her mate, and under no circumstances should he find out.

#gwynrielweeks2024 #azriel shadowsinger #gwyneth berdara #elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #gwyn x elain frienship supremacy #gwyn doesn't like the high lord and lady that much #but i get it because they treated nesta pretty badly #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian

[sadiegirl2021]

My submission for @gwynrielweeksofficial - Prompt: Warriors

And it's not just Gwynriel! We have Nessian and Emorie too.

The Heart of a Warrior on Ao3 - Sneak Peak

Rhys had to confess. Over the past few months, he had found himself increasingly distracted, neglecting his responsibilities as High Lord. But, that ended today.

Emerie, Nesta, and Gwyn sat in Rhysand’s office four months after the birth of Nyx. Between Feyre’s recovery, worrying about Nyx’s development, the interloper Bryce, and the mask incident, he’d been too busy to look at the report Azriel and Cassian had created about what the Valkyries had dealt with in the rite until now.

And it was clear, if they wanted to be a serious fighting unit, they had a lot to learn.

“I commend you on all your achievements, but nearly dying of hypothermia?” he exclaimed, flicking through the pages, “If Balthazar hadn't been there, that would have finished you both off. Simple survival training would have prevented this,” Rhysand sighed out.

It wasn’t enough that they had survived the Blood Rite; they had made near-grave errors, and only by the grace of the Mother had survived.

He was also trying to make amends with Nesta, again, on Feyre’s request. Although he knew she wouldn’t see it that way. This wasn’t a plan to punish them. He really did want to help them improve and grow. They would be an unstoppable force one day, a huge asset to his court. They already proved fiercer than most male armies he’d fought alongside. But to get better, they had to face their mistakes.

Rhysand continued through the list, “Gwyn, excellent work luring the beast to those males. Truly inspired... But when you got shot with an arrow, you were willing to let yourself give up so easily, rather than get across the bridge? A simple tourniquet made from a ribbon or belt would have given you enough movement to get across. Basic first aid.”

Gwyn sulked. She’d been happy to let Emerie and Nesta get an earful of their mistakes, but she thought she did pretty well! Sure… maybe she was a bit stubborn at times, and that maybe that put them in some danger, but they had won! That’s all that mattered. Azriel threw her a sympathetic look as Rhys continued to list her mistakes.

“...and when Nesta said you had to leave, and you refused, all of you could have died. We need to establish ranks and you will follow your commanding officer's decisions.”

Nesta swore he gave her a pointed look with that last statement.

Rhys continued, “To be honest, no one had to stay behind. With more survival training, all of you could have made it up the last part of the mountain that day…”

“Is there a point to all of this, Rhys, or did you just jump at the chance to knock me down a peg?” Nesta interrupted, giving him a withering glare.

Cassian cleared his throat. Nesta threw him an equally judgmental stare. It had been like this since she gave the mask to Bryce a few weeks ago. They got it back, tragedy avoided! She couldn’t understand why Cassian wasn’t letting it go.

Rhysand rolled his eyes at Nesta, “What I am going to suggest is starting survival training alongside your fighting. It’s just as important. You can’t defeat your enemies if you eat a poison berry or wield your sword if you can’t stem the bleeding on a simple wound. There’s a lot to work on, but I want you all to start today on some basics.”

He looked towards his cousin and brothers, “Mor is going to run through foraging for edible plants and berries, Cassian is going to train you on weapon improvisation, and Azriel will go through how to craft a simple shelter and survival knots.”

Emerie and Nesta smirked at each other and burst out laughing. They were sure Azriel had plenty of knots he could show them.

“What’s so funny?” Gwyn asked innocently. Cassian winked at Azriel, who managed to keep his face stoic and unreadable.

“We’ll tell you later,” Nesta whispered back, glancing at Azriel before letting out another little giggle. Gwyn was so confused.

Nesta cleared her throat, composing herself to ask, “So, what time do we have to leave?”

Rhys gave her a sly grin, “Wouldn’t be survival training if you had time to prepare! You’re heading out right now.”

“What? Rhys, I can’t leave my shop unoccupied all day!” Emerie protested.

“I’m expecting to sing at the evening service tonight,” Gwyn exclaimed next.

Nesta just sat quietly and glared at Rhys. Of course, he’d pull something like this.

He held up his hands in peace, “Relax! Nuala is going to look after your shop for the day, Emerie. The Illyrians are terrified of the wraiths, so nothing will happen in your absence.” He turned to Gwyn next, “And I’ve already told Clotho you will be away for the night. She wished you all the best on your adventure.”

“What if we don’t want to go?” Nesta asked with a scowl.

Rhysand didn’t falter, “It’s for your own good. You’ll thank me one day.”

Gwyn twisted her hands in her lap with nerves. She’d hardly left the library in the last few months. The Blood Rite had knocked the confidence she had been building, but if she wanted to become a serious warrior, she should listen to her High Lord. He knew what they needed.

Emerie just sighed and accepted it.

Nesta knew from experience that fighting with Rhys and the inner circle was futile. She looked at Cassian for support, but he just stared at his precious High Lord. She should have known whose side he was going to take. She sank into her chair, her mood souring.

“You’ll spend the morning and early afternoon learning everything needed to complete a trek and overnight stay in the mountains. Use what you learn to forage for dinner, build a shelter, and survive the night. Hike back to the rendezvous point in the morning, and we’ll reconvene here to go through what you learned,” his face softened a little, “I really think this will be beneficial. Your mentors won’t let anything happen to you,” he directed his gaze at Gwyn as he said that, trying to reassure her, “but they will also offer very little help, so please make sure you spend your morning wisely. Listen to them. Ask questions. Take notes. And I look forward to seeing you all in the morning.”

Nesta just scowled in annoyance, but Emerie and Gwyn nodded in agreement, resigning to the High Lords orders.

Gwyn raised her hand. “Yes, Gwyneth?” Rhys said softly. He always used a gentle tone with her.

“Is there a prize for the winning team?” Azriel let out a chuckle from across the room. Mor whipped her head around as if she’d never heard him laugh like that before.

“Bragging rights.”

Nesta chimed in next, “So, no monetary incentive?” If she was being forced to partake, maybe she could make it worth her while.

Rhys gave her one of his charming smiles that made her want to punch him, “How about 100 gold pieces to make things interesting? The first team to make it back to the rendezvous point tomorrow morning wins.”

The Valkyries perked up, chattering excitedly amongst themselves, each confidently announcing they were winning the money. Rhys smiled in delight that the prize seemed to motivate them.

He clapped his hands to get their attention again, “Teams are Emerie and Mor, Cassian and Nesta, and Azriel and Gwyn. Packs have been made up and left at the front door,” he instructed before giving them another charming smile that made Gwyn blush. “Have a wonderful time.”

With that, they were dismissed. Everyone filed out of the office, breaking off into their teams to grab their gear.

“I want that money,” Nesta said to Cassian, who grabbed both of their packs.

Mor had hers on her back and went over to them to winnow to the mountains. “I’ll see you there, Emerie,” she said sweetly.

“Ye–kay… See you…” Emerie stammered in response. Mor disappeared with Nesta and Cassian in a flash. Emerie made a disgusted face at her fumble.

“Smooth,” Azriel said behind her. It was no secret that Emerie had a huge crush on Mor. She scowled at him as she put her own backpack on.

Gwyn reached for hers. “Let me take that for you,” Azriel offered, reaching for it at the same time.

“No, it’s fine. I can carry it,” Gwyn countered, grabbing her pack and throwing it over her shoulder.

Emerie mouthed ‘smooth’ to Azriel while Gwyn was busy looking elsewhere. He gave her the middle finger, which she mirrored.

“Okay, are we all ready?” Gwyn asked gleefully. Azriel and Emerie lowered their hands quickly and nodded.

Azriel took both of their hands, and his shadows swirled around them. Within moments, they were somewhere in the Illyrian mountains.

The sun wasn’t quite high enough to make the day warm, but by the time they started their hike, they would be sweating in the autumn heat.

“Right, Valkyries! You’re with Mor for your first lesson,” Cassian commanded, and with that their training had begun. Emerie and Gwyn were feeling excited about the day ahead, but Nesta wasn’t sold yet. However, for her sisters, she’d get it over with.

#gwynriel #pro gwynriel #acotar fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #nessian #pro nessian #emorie #the valkyries #valkyries #pro valkyries #post acosf #gwynriel weeks 2024 #gwynrielweeks2024 #prompt: warriors

[theladyofbloodshed]

Chapter Two

To snatch a short break from Nyx, who was in a positively vile mood due to teething, Feyre winnowed Nesta home. Lucien remained at the river estate to speak with Rhysand. His presence had Elain making an excuse why she needed to retreat to her bedroom despite Lucien saying nothing more than a polite hello. Nesta had wrinkled her nose up, disappointed with her sister for being too cowardly to tell Lucien if she did not care for him. 

‘Don’t make me go back,’ said Feyre, pressing her knuckles to her eyelids. ‘All he has done today is cry.’ 

‘Rhysand or Nyx?’

Feyre let out a sigh. ‘I am exhausted. Rhys is busy with Illyria. If I didn’t have the wraiths and Elain, I don’t know what I’d do. I never have a minute to paint anymore.’

Nesta jailed her tongue. She had wanted to say that’s what happens when a twenty-something year old has a child with a man she’s known for a couple of years. It was laughable that Feyre thought she might have time for painting with a baby and a court to manage. She said nothing, only waited for Feyre to say her goodbye rather than cause an upset. 

The house greeted her with a sharp tug of the curtains across the windows and back in lieu of a wave. She couldn’t help but smile at it. Lucien was right, it was a house - but it was still her friend. It had been the house who gently encouraged her to eat and shower each day when they had seemed like impossible tasks. 

It prepared food for her that evening despite her blood still being thick with sugar from the bakery. She ate alone in the quiet with a book pressed open beside her bowl of broccoli soup. 

Cassian didn’t arrive until late, when she was already busy in the bedroom. Mud had dried up his cheek and his hair was matted with it. He flopped into a chair in their bedroom. 

Nesta exhaled through her nose. ‘You’ll make the chair filthy. Stand up. Take your boots off.’

‘The house will clean it.’

‘That’s not the point,’ she protested. They didn’t need to make more work for the house for the sake of it.

At the sight of her open bag on the bed and the folded piles of clothes beside it, Cassian startled. ‘Visiting Emerie?’

‘No,’ she said airily. ‘I’m going to the Dawn Court.’

A hand landed on her shoulder to turn her. The light of his siphon nearly blinded her. She shielded her face from it, so Cassian covered it with his hand. 

‘Tell me that again. Dawn Court. Since when?’

‘Lucien invited me. I’d like to shadow him to see if I still want the role as emissary.’

‘Lucien is emissary. There can’t be two.’ 

‘Then tell Lucien I’m about to usurp him,’ she replied, turning back to her bag and adding a thin, lilac dress to it. She had been advised that it was very warm except near the sea where the breeze provided a blast of fresh air. 

Cassian stared at her for a moment. ‘Why are you in this mood?’

‘I’m not in any mood. Actually, I’m in a good mood. I’ve had a great day.’

‘So, you’ll just swan off with Vanserra and not tell me?’

‘You never tell me about going to Illyria.’

‘That’s my job.’

‘And maybe this will be mine. I can’t spend the rest of my life inside the warded walls of Velaris, never seeing anything else. You only ever take me to the Hewn City or Illyria so forgive me for wanting to branch out.’ She trampled on her temper. This was her mate. She had made a commitment to him for the rest of her life. ‘I’m going. That’s the end of it. Why don’t we spend time together this evening? We could go into the city for a drink-’

‘One of your taverns to get plastered in?’

‘I don’t have to drink. I haven’t in a long time. We could just take a walk or go for dinner or even stay here.’

‘I need to speak to Rhys about something.’

Her hope deflated. Of course. There was always something to talk to Rhysand about. That always took priority. And if Cassian spent time with Nesta then Rhys would inevitably appear in his head. Either that or one of the others would show up.

‘Fine. But I’m going early in the morning with Lucien.’

‘I’m not happy about you going there. Who says Lucien will protect you? That he won’t try anything?’

‘He’s my sister’s mate. I am your mate. The Dawn court is safe and furthermore Lucien is our ally.’ Her blood was beginning to boil. Cassian had spent plenty of time with Feyre and she’d never taken offence by it. None of the times that he ever flew Emerie back to Illyria incited any jealousy in Nesta either. 

‘I’m not happy,’ he repeated. 

Perhaps if she was better, she might have caved to the pressure or felt guilty by the disappointment nibbling at his features and called it off. Nesta had to do this. If anything, she had to do it to prove a point. She was made for more than the walls of Velaris. If Cassian couldn’t support that then… she’d have to figure out her next steps.

‘I’ll only be gone a night or two. Speak to Rhys quickly then we can-’

‘It won’t be quick. See you later.’

Without a further word, Cassian had turned on his heel. Without bothering to shower or change, he departed to the river estate, leaving Nesta to pack alone. She should have been used to it. Shouldn’t have gotten so upset every time that she was pushed aside in favour of Rhys or the others. After all, in the grand scheme of Cassian’s life, Nesta was little more than an inkblot compared to their enduring presence. Still, unwanted tears fell from her cheeks as Nesta continued to pack. She pretended not to notice them, as she did often.

That night, when her mate came home, he woke her with kisses down her spine. Before Nesta could even speak, Cassian had turned her onto her back and was sliding his length inside. It was nothing new. Sex was their only form of communication. It was good – as it always was – but Nesta could have done without the wake up.

‘Sorry that I was grumpy earlier,’ he murmured when he had finished then kissed the back of her neck softly. ‘Long day in Iron Crest. The males are the worst sort there.’

Cassian pulled Nesta a few inches across the mattress so that his chest pressed to her back.

‘I talked with Rhys about going to the Dawn Court. He doesn’t want you going with Lucien. He said we might be able to go in a few weeks.’

‘We?’

‘All of us. We need to speak to Thesan about a trade agreement.’

Disappointment seeped through Nesta, thick and clogging, catching in her throat. ‘But I wanted to go tomorrow. I wanted to be able to explore – not be cooped up in a room or trotted out in a meeting.’

‘We’ll find time for all of us to explore.’

It took little time for Cassian’s exhausted body to succumb to sleep. His arms had locked around her like a vice, holding her to him. Not right, not right, not right. Why was it Rhysand’s decision whether Nesta could leave or not? She wasn’t a damn prisoner – and certainly wasn’t one of his subjects. She might have saved his life – and his mate and child - but his lavish gifts and warm reception towards her lasted only a handful of weeks. Why was it Cassian’s business to even talk about it with Rhysand? The thought of them gathered around, discussing her again like she was an item on the itinerary for the evening had her clenching her hands into fists. She was sick of Cassian never being able to be apart from his family. He could never find time to be with just her. Nesta was beginning to worry that he couldn’t stand her company either – that he always needed others present because their words dried up too quickly together. Not that they talked amongst the inner circle. She was always to one side like an unwanted guest who they were forced to put up with.

***

When Lucien headed up to the roof, Nesta was already ready and waiting. A small bag was clutched in her hand. Rather than a smile, she greeted him with a brisk nod of her head. It was a cloudy morning. The days of glorious sunshine were stifled by a rough wind from the north. He was glad to be getting away for a handful of days.

‘Early riser,’ Lucien noted.

Nesta nodded again. ‘Are we leaping from the roof or hoping we’ll grow wings?’

As if on cue, Azriel appeared from the narrow stairway and walked onto the roof. His black hair was tousled and shadows had made their home beneath his eyes as if he hadn’t been to sleep. ‘Ready?’

‘Yes. Just onto the street, please. I can winnow us to the Dawn Court.’

Azriel seemed to realise that Nesta was there because she was travelling with Lucien. Definitely not on form today. ‘You’re going? Did you tell Cass?’

‘Yes, I told him,’ she sniped back, voice slightly on edge. ‘Weren’t you at dinner last night?’

The shadowsinger shook his head. ‘I was elsewhere.’

Those three words had Nesta’s shoulders loosening. She seemed to let out a sigh of relief which did not fill Lucien with any sort of comfort. Before he could question the sudden ease that had come across Nesta, she had stepped towards Azriel, ready to be flown in his arms.

Lucien watched them go, pitying Nesta for the life she was trapped in. Fancy living in a place that she was a prisoner in. It was demeaning to have to ask somebody to bring her to and from her own home. His own demoralisation was about to begin as Azriel landed back on the roof. Neither of them particularly enjoyed being in such close proximity to the other. What had happened to Morrigan in the Autumn Court was also Lucien’s burden, in Azriel’s eyes. Lucien wouldn’t mention what had happened on Solstice though in retribution. The shadowsinger was aloof and alarming as it was. To bring that up whilst cradled in his arms was foolish.

‘When will you be back?’

Nesta stepped in before Lucien could, ‘Later. Thank you, Azriel. Goodbye.’

Her fingers enclosed around Lucien’s wrist like a claw, urging him to winnow.

They were met with a warm blast of air and bright sunlight that made Lucien shield his eye before he blinded Nesta.

Despite the niggling feeling that Nesta hadn’t been wholly honest, the look of sheer delight on her face swept those thoughts away. She blinked towards the sea, lips parting in wonder.

‘It’s beautiful.’

For a long while, they remained in silence. Lucien did not want to interrupt her vigil to the sea. In this quiet moment, he couldn’t help but compare her to her sisters. Nesta was not what he was expecting. He had only known her as the vicious protector of Elain, but that was not all she was. He had thought that Nesta was hard where Elain was soft. Maybe the eldest had never had the chance to be soft. Feyre’s loyalties were flimsy, but Nesta’s were as solid as stone. She was funny too, with a lethal wit that struck hard and fast.

With some coaxing, Lucien managed to tear Nesta away from the ocean to walk along the dusty streets of the Dawn Court. It was a pleasant place to be. Their winters were non-existent with temperatures dropping only slightly. Summer was filled with golden days that stretched on and on. Both of them were over dressed for the hot day ahead, so Lucien steered Nesta towards their lodging for the night. It was a pretty inn made of orange stone to reflect the sun from it. A mosaic of orange and yellow pieces in the shape of a sun covered the doors. Inside, it was cool thanks to its tiled floors and stone walls.

They managed to find twin rooms that had a door connecting them. It was the best outcome. The Dawn Court was safe – but Nesta Archeron seemed to have a target on her back in many places. He’d rather be able to reach her quickly if needed but they had their privacy too.

‘What is the plan for the day, Lucien?’

‘My meeting is in a couple of hours, so we can explore, if you like.’

‘During your meeting, what am I to do?’

‘Whatever you like,’ he said with a shrug. ‘Stay here. Visit something. There are many sights here that I can recommend. My friend, Nuan, resides here so we could meet her for dinner if you didn’t mind.’

Nesta blinked. ‘Why do I know that name?’

‘She created the faebane antidote.’ For good measure, he gestured to his ruined face, ‘and gave me an eye when Amarantha removed my original one.’

Grey eyes traced his scar then met his eyes. Most people avoided looking at it – or took brief, fleeting glances when they thought Lucien didn’t notice. Not Nesta. She refused to flinch from it. The usual revulsion didn’t come to her features either. She merely nodded and said it would be acceptable.

‘Pardon me for prying, but it was quite a swift escape from Velaris. Did you really tell Cassian that you were coming here with me?’

Lucien needed to know what sort of reception he might receive on the return to Velaris. The general of the Night Court’s armies hunting him down wasn’t on his agenda.

‘I told him. He wasn’t happy. He told Rhysand. He said no. I’m not their subject. And here we are.’

Ah, just as he had suspected. And that meant the shadowsinger would get it in the neck for unwittingly helping them to leave the House of Wind. Lucien was torn. He almost wanted to deliver Nesta back to save his own neck – but how could he? She’d summarised her miserable existence. Her mate had to give his approval. The high lord she didn’t want had also waded into a decision that was nothing to do with him. Miscommunication was the only reason why she had been able to remove herself from the red stone house carved into the mountain.

‘We’ll buy him a souvenir,’ he winked. ‘Change into something cooler. I’ll meet you on the balcony.’

When Lucien emerged, Nesta was already there. She leaned against the balcony in a pale-yellow gown. It fell to her toes but was thin enough that it floated, providing relief from the heat. It scooped low on the back, displaying her hard shoulder blades and a strange, shimmering tattoo. He hadn’t known she had made a bargain with anybody. Night Court bargains were generally black, like the whorls of Illyrians. Feeling his attention on her, Nesta turned.

‘You look nice. I’ve never seen you in yellow.’

She tugged at the narrow strap on her shoulder, uncomfortable in the gown. ‘I’ve never worn this.’

‘It looks lovely,’ he reassured her.

Her eyes flitted back to the view. The sea was visible from the balcony, luring Nesta to it again. Lucien knew she’d likely spend all day here if she could.

‘When we were first taken to Velaris, Mor had looked at us then went into the city to find us clothes.’ Nesta gave a slight laugh. ‘Elain’s were all pinks and tulle. Mine were yellow or floral. Definitely not me. They fit at least – and now they have a use.’

Their morning was spent combing the beach for shells. Nesta just kept pressing them into Lucien’s hands to hold for her, not speaking a lot, merely enjoying to be out in the fresh air. As the temperature began to climb, a faint blush stole across her thin cheeks.

She wasn’t at all like Elain. When he had first seen Elain properly, he had thought that she was the most beautiful female he had ever seen. And she was beautiful. It was a delicate, classic beauty. Nesta was different. She was wilder, more untameable, untouchable like the sea herself. Yes, Lucien could see why Eris had been prepared to lay an engagement on the table after a handful of dances. He always thought he could catch the uncatchable, tame the wild-spirited. Eris had likely seen Nesta as a challenge that only he could rise to. And Cassian had seen her as his given right as a mate.

‘Look at this one!’

Nesta held a starfish up to his face. He laughed briefly then remembered that Nesta had never been to the beach before.

‘It’s a living thing.’

‘Eurgh,’ she tossed it back towards the water – then he really did laugh.

‘You liked it a moment ago.’

‘Before I knew it was alive!’

Maybe he was bordering on dangerous territory, but Lucien hunted in the shallows for a crab to terrorise her with. When he found his prize, Nesta reacted exactly how she thought she might – by throwing her hands in the air and darting out of his way.

‘That is vile, Lucien.’

‘They’re delicious to eat.’

Nesta’s face screwed up in puzzlement. ‘I’m not so sure I like this place.’

 ***

While Lucien was busy with emissary business, Nesta had free reign in the Dawn Court. It was strange to have no routine, even stranger to have nobody to report to. Lucien had offered Nesta a handful of places to visit and given the recommendation to avoid the sun at noon when it was at its hottest. Embarrassment had swelled inside of her when Lucien had handed her a pouch of money to spend. She wished that she could have said no, but Nesta had no money of her own. She had believed Cassian when he said that she could use his money whenever she needed it. But Nesta never went anywhere without Cassian. Her life could only happen when Cassian experienced it too.

Her time was not spent idle. There was so much for her to see and do. Nesta explored the beach a little longer then visited a library with a great glass dome that nearly burnt her scalp. She visited the many shops along a main street, buying a ridiculous hat that she’d never wear again to protect her fair skin and little trinkets. There were many tinkerers in this city who created wondrous things that caught her eye. There was a sort of palace too that had been built from white stone. It had gardens running along one side of it that provided some shade. Many people stopped at the fountain to drink from the fresh water.

When Lucien found her later on, she was back in their rooms, resting on the bed. It wasn’t the sort of rests she used to take in the House of Wind when her motivation had evaporated. Her body was tired from the heat so it had demanded she stop until the weather cooled. He had tittered out a laugh at her prone form then touched a finger against her cheeks.

‘You’ve caught the sun.’

The skin was tight and tingling where he’d touched it. She excused herself from a meal with Nuan, claiming he could catch up with his friends without her unwanted presence. Lucien promised to find her later that evening, but, before he departed, ensured she’d drank lots of a water to fend off heat stroke.

It was difficult not to feel cross about her situation. Part of it was her own doing. She and Cassian had been like two pieces on a chess board, drawn to each other from the start. Whenever Nesta had aired those feelings that they weren’t a good match, they had been waved away by everybody else. They were opponents more often than not, rarely on the same side. Since their mating ceremony, Cassian had taken Nesta for granted. No escaping him now, a small voice said in her mind. If Nesta had stopped to think – to breathe – after what had happened then maybe she wouldn’t have rushed into something so eternal. Feyre had died. Nyx too. Then Nesta had touched the Harp after a week spent terrified and exhausted in the Illyrian Mountains, saving them all. Her heart had been tender. It had been bruised and broken and barely beating. So she had accepted the bond.

And every day since, Nesta wished she had not.

‘There you are,’ came Lucien’s voice.

Nesta had taken refuge for the evening in a broken-down watch tower. The stone had been claimed by time so parts of it were ruined, exposing it to the sky and the sea. It made a nice shelter though.

‘I have a surprise for you.’

Lucien’s voice echoed in the empty tower as he approached. Nesta peered down at him from one of the upper levels. In his arms, he carried a heavy stack of plates.

‘I hope it’s not that you’re about to host a dinner party.’

‘Come down here a moment.’

Once Nesta stood beside him, the precise reason why he had a stack of plates hadn’t become clear. She tilted her head slightly, waiting for him to explain.

‘Throw one at the wall.’

Hesitantly, Nesta lifted the top plate off. Despite believing it was a trick somehow, she dropped the plate to the floor but it didn’t shatter.

‘A little more conviction, please, my lady.’

With a furrowed brow, Nesta picked the plate back up and hurled it at the broken stone wall. It shattered brilliantly into massive shards.

‘Again,’ encouraged Lucien.

Another plate smashed against the rock and Nesta felt good.

‘Keep going.’

Needing no more encouragement, Nesta launched plate after plate in the watch tower, stepping back each time a shard threatened to shoot back towards them. The grin spreading across her face refused to leave even after every item of crockery had been destroyed.

‘Feel good?’

‘So good,’ she breathed. Adrenaline pulsed through her veins. For once, it was due to excitement rather than fear. It had been a lifetime since anything had excited her.

She looked at the remains of the plates. ‘Was there a reason for this? An enemy’s plates?’

‘I just thought you could do with breaking something. Anger isn’t wrong, Nesta. It doesn’t need to be shut away. Anger is allowed.’

‘I feel as if I’m always angry.’

Lucien nodded then, ‘you’ve had a lot to be angry about.’

 ***

They settled for the evening beside the watch tower, watching the sun set together. Their legs dangled over a low cliff. Every now and then, they would need to raise them to avoid a soaking from a stronger wave. It was still warm despite the darkness settling in.

‘Sometimes I wonder if I should have just said yes to Eris’ proposal instead of this.’

Nesta gazed up at the sky, sighing slightly as her eyes snagged on the stars. Lucien really did feel for her. He tracked the bob of her throat as she swallowed.

‘No. You wouldn’t want that. As somebody who lived alongside Eris, you do not want that. Eris alone is bearable but you’d have to survive against my brothers and father too.’

‘Well, I’m always in second place to Rhys. Not even second place, I’m probably about fifth in the pecking order.’

How he longed to tell her that it wasn’t true. But Lucien had seen it first-hand. When news had reached him of the hike – the truth of it – he was disgusted. Rhysand would always be the centre of Cassian’s orbit. Feyre, Morrigan, Azriel, they were all part of it. It should have shifted at Nesta’s arrival. A mate should have been more. More important, more loved, more wanted. More everything.  

Nesta swallowed again. She was blinking rapidly, fending off tears that Lucien pretended not to see. ‘It’s not supposed to be like this, is it? I’m supposed to want to go home. I’m supposed to look forwards to seeing him. I’m not supposed to feel hurt by him so often. I’m not supposed to wish that I’d never accepted the bond.’

He reached over to take her hand. It felt so small within his. Nesta wasn’t a clawed beast that needed a hesitant approach towards. She was just a female thrust into a world that she did not understand. Lucien remembered Feyre – all snarling and anger – when she first came to Spring. Gently, he squeezed Nesta’s fingers. ‘No, I don’t believe it should be that way. Love should be celebrated. It shouldn’t bring dread.’

The female had many things to figure out. He could offer suggestions, advice, guidance, but it was her path to forge. He didn’t need to insert himself where it wasn’t wanted. But, Nesta was trapped between a rock and a hard place. With no finances, no way to leave, she was completely dependent on Cassian, just as Feyre was to Rhysand. That was exactly how his mother had been trapped. Day after day, his father had worn her done like a river eroding the rock.

‘If you make that decision,’ he said carefully, ‘to sever things then I will be there for support. It can be difficult when Cassian holds a lot of the power.’

‘Thank you, Lucien. You’re a kind person.’

‘Kind,’ he said, shrugging a shoulder. ‘With little money to my name, a ruined home in the mortal lands, and a face like this, kindness only goes so far.’

Nesta tilted her head. Her unflinching gaze landed on his scar again. There were some who worked hard to pretend it wasn’t there. They’d resolutely stare into his eyes, determined not to see it. That wasn’t Nesta. The pad of her thumb traced the ruined skin.

‘I think maybe Amarantha thought it wasn’t fair when she saw you. She had to give your brothers a fighting chance at finding a female. You’d be too handsome otherwise.’

He batted her fingers away, glad to see a mocking smile twisting her lips.

‘I have little to offer a female.’

‘A good heart is all one needs.’

Nesta wrapped her arms around her bent legs then tucked her chin on top of her knees, staring out towards the sea. The bright light of the moon rippled across the waves that dragged up the shore.

He didn’t know if Nesta was loyal. She’d proved her loyalty to Elain ten times over. But, would she be loyal to him – a male she barely knew? Lucien had nobody else to tell. Jurian and Vassa knew, encouraged it even. Taking a breath, he said, ‘I’ll be leaving Velaris soon. I will no longer work for the Night Court.’

Her eyes shot to him, lips parting slightly. ‘Why? Where will you go?’

‘I have been offered a position here – and one in the Day Court. I’m debating which to take. Day would allow a cordial relationship still with Night. The emissary role is yours, if you want it.’

She nodded, following his speech.

‘Which would you prefer? If you could choose with your heart, forget about political alliances, which one?’

Lucien swallowed against the lump in his throat. ‘I wish I could go home.’

‘Autumn?’

‘No. Spring. Autumn was a home for a long time, but after Jesminda, I don’t think I could ever be there again and be happy. Spring became my home. I loved my court.’

Until Feyre wiggled into their lives and uprooted it for so many people, damning the consequences.

‘The Night Court won’t ever feel like home for me,’ Nesta admitted. ‘I have so many bad memories associated with it. They tend to muddy any good ones.’

That was understandable. Even in the safety of Velaris, Nesta had been set upon in the library then forced into the Blood Rite not even two years later.

Softly, she asked, ‘What about Elain?’

‘Your sister has had enough time to strike up a conversation with me. I cannot force my presence on her. After Solstice, she made her feelings clear enough.’

‘Why was Solstice any different? She ignores you at every opportunity.’

‘If they want each other then that’s their decision.’

Nesta leaned her weight onto one hand as she moved towards him. Her brows pinched together. ‘If who want each other?’

Oh. She did not know. It wasn’t Lucien’s business. In a roundabout way, it was, he supposed although he had no sort of claim on Elain beyond a magical binding.

‘I would have thought you knew about it.’

‘About what, Lucien?’ The irritation rang out in Nesta’s voice.

‘I couldn’t sleep. I never settle well in Velaris. Elain and Azriel had a moonlight tryst until the high lord shut it down. That was the only one I’ve been nearby for, but undoubtedly there are more.’

‘That wretch,’ Nesta said, face contorting with annoyance. ‘At least have the decency to tell you she doesn’t want the bond rather than sneaking around. And Azriel? I will have him. Both of them. Bastards.’

Lucien waved his hand as if that might wave away both of their issues. ‘Elain never asked to be my mate. If she’s happy with Azriel then I’ll ensure the bond is not accepted. It’s just my luck really.’

‘You would let her go, like that?’

‘Yes.’

For a reason that he did not know, Nesta’s eyes filled with tears again. She blinked them away, not letting them spill over. ‘When I told Cassian that I never had a choice, do you know what he did? He started an argument with me on the Sidra. People avoided us. Said he’d not chosen to be shackled to me.’

Lucien couldn’t help it. The words came out before he could stop them. ‘And you still accepted the bond?’

Nesta shuddered. ‘Let’s go back to the inn. If I stay here any longer baring my bones to you, I might drown myself in the ocean.’

‘I’d probably join you.’

The female stood then reached out her hands to haul him to his feet. Lucien accepted. They began walking down the quiet streets, beneath the yellow faelight spilling from homes. It was still warm though not unbearable now.

‘Sorry that I never made an effort with you before.’

‘You’re not my mate,’ she replied, shrugging.

‘But I still could have tried.’

She nudged him with a closed fist, smiling slightly. ‘We’re friends now.’

‘United in misery.’

They both breathed a sigh of relief on the return to the inn when their rooms were gloriously cool. Their balcony doors remained open so Lucien could hear Nesta humming away to herself as she readied for bed.

‘I forgot to ask you. How was your day?’

She appeared on the balcony in an ivory night gown. Lucien tried not to look – it was his mate’s sister – but her long, lean legs were on display. He was still a male and this female could bring most males to their knees. The lace trim of the gown cut across the midpoint of her thighs. The thin straps of her nightgown were holding on for dear life. Lucien cast his eyes quickly towards the view although it was too dark to see anything.

‘It was lovely, thank you. I had a really nice time today. Thank you, Lucien, for taking me here. I really cannot thank you for it.’

‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed.’

‘Can we stay another night?’

‘Sure,’ he said, glad of company that wasn’t Jurian and Vassa’s bickering. ‘We could go elsewhere. I have friends in other courts.’

Nesta rolled her eyes. ‘Stop showing off that you have lots of friends when I only have two.’

Feigning pain, Lucien pressed a hand over his heart. ‘Two? I thought I had moved into the ranks of Nesta Archeron’s friend.’

‘Fine. Three friends. And a mate who would rather bed his high lord than me.’

He couldn’t help the rough laugh that came out.

Nesta scrubbed her face with her hands. ‘If I can’t make jokes about it then I really will be miserable. Oh, Lucien. What a life I have.’

‘Hopefully, Cassian will miss you terribly.’

Nesta nodded, before turning towards the bedroom. She paused then said, ‘That’s the problem. I haven’t missed him at all.’

#lucien x nesta #be consumed by the flame

[theladyofdeath]

Lady Death's Lover {V}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: This chapter is slightly NSFW. No one under the age of 18 should be reading this story. Thank you to everyone who reads, comments, likes, and/or reblogs! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and hope you continue to do so! x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

Dear Emerie,

I hope you’re enjoying your time away. Just know that we miss you here in the city, but I hope your travels are everything you want them to be. I cannot wait for you to return and tell Gwyn and I all about your thrilling endeavors. She is convinced that you have found someone in which your soul cannot live without, but I have assured her that it is nothing more than a foreign fling.

I cannot wait to see who is right!

To answer your very thoughtful questions, I am doing just fine. You know how Tomas is, but he is busy with his business and I find peace in the distance that brings between us. I have found myself wondering one thing — what is it like to attend a ball as an unmarried lady? We used to have little get-togethers in my village, of course, but nothing as grand as the balls in Velaris. I used to love to dance and each time I attend one of these gatherings I cannot help but daydream of dancing once again. Of course, it is not common for a married lady to dance, and Tomas would never. It is a lovely thought though, isn’t it? I know you are content with your life as a spinster (which I admire), but even you love a good turn about the dancefloor. 

Perhaps one day I will be privileged enough to just get a tease of what it is like.

Write back soon. Be safe. We miss you!

With Love,

Nesta 

Nesta

I hate luncheons. Especially women-only luncheons. The only perk is that I don’t have to attend them with Tomas, but that is by far the only perk. All of these women think they’re better than me and each other. Every one of them has something shoved so far up their asses that I’m surprised they can still walk. 

They’re all talking about their husbands, how amazing they are, how perfect their lives are, but I can’t seem to contribute to the conversation. I may be forced to be here by my husband but I’m not about to praise his name. 

As I sip my lemonade, I let my mind drift back to where it’s been, repeatedly, constantly, for the past week. Ever since he left my home, ever since I ran into him outside just after midnight, the image of him has been branded into my mind. It doesn’t matter if I’m awake or asleep, I can see his face, his smile, the intense look in his eyes as he looks at me. I can hear him saying my name, voice low and rough, like no man has ever said it before. 

I’ve dreamt of him, fell asleep every night to these fantasies that I can’t control. 

They started off seemingly innocent, the two of us dancing, touching tentatively, doing nothing more than following the same steps that everyone knows, getting lost in the music as we stare into one another’s eyes. That innocence didn’t last long; it quickly escalated. 

Last night had me writhing in my bed, needing friction, needing release, needing something far greater than what my fingers could offer. I worked myself roughly, imagining my fingers were his, imagining his cock was hard and inside me, pounding into me again and again, recklessly. 

I was no virgin when I married Tomas, and although he would claim otherwise, my husband in full denial, that means I know what I like. Laying with Tomas is a chore, one that I have never enjoyed, one that never lasts long or gives me any sort of satisfaction. I know what I like in bed, what I like from a man, and I have no doubt that a man like Lord Cassian can give me just that.

Not that it would ever happen.

Of course. I am a lady, the wife of a renowned lord, and a woman of high society would never act so immorally. 

I can dream, though. I can let those unholy thoughts fill my mind, imagine a man like Lord Cassian exploring every inch of my bare body while I fall into a state of utter ecstasy. 

“Lady Nesta?”

My eyes snap up and meet the Lady Cresseida’s from across from me. Her smile is sly and I’m tempted to match it with one of my own, but I don’t.

“Are you well? You look a little flush,” she continues, mockingly. 

“I am feeling a little under the weather,” I confess. A complete lie, but if they’re asking, I may as well take advantage of it. “Perhaps I’ll take my leave.” 

They all nod in farewell, but I know that none of them care. I, however, am overjoyed at the excuse to leave. I make haste, wasting no time as I rise to my feet and stride out of the home in which the luncheon is being held. 

The second I’m in my carriage, I call for my driver to take me home.

The long way.

But, it’s always the long way. I stopped asking a long time ago. Now, they just take me home the long way when I’m by myself. They just think I enjoy the scenery, find peace in a ride by myself in the quiet. Or, perhaps they know the truth, that I loathe my husband and hate being in his presence, in his home, our home, and they just keep quiet about it.

I wonder what the help talks about when they’re alone, when they’re in their own quarters, far away from us. I wonder if they truly hate me, if they hate Tomas. I wonder what they think of our marriage, if they know it’s as awful as it truly is.

I’ll never know. I’ll never ask. Either way, I’m grateful that they drive me the long way home.

As soon as the wheels begin wobbling down the cobblestone, I lean back against the bench and close my eyes. The velvet lined seats are soft enough to relax on, and the moment I’m comfortable, I let my mind wander. 

Back to him.

His hands.

His cock.

I know I’m pitiful, know that these fantasies mean absolutely nothing and the reality of my life, my marriage, is still in shambles. But they’re a small reprieve, because if I cannot control my reality, at least I can control my thoughts to a certain extent. 

Those thoughts drift to Lord Cassian.

We don’t know each other and we surely never will. Perhaps that’s what makes him the perfect candidate for these fantasies, for these wandering thoughts. He’s a stranger, one that I’ve gotten a feel for, certainly, but still a stranger. 

I wonder what he looks like nude. I’ve tried to imagine it many times, have pictured what I thought, but I imagine it doesn’t compare to the reality of his body. He’s muscular, of that I have no doubt, and the part that matters most is long, thick, and wielded like a weapon. 

I don’t even realize that I’m inching up my skirts until my hand has made its way into my undergarment and the tip of my finger grazes my throbbing clit. I circle it slowly, biting my lip to keep myself silent. I’ve touched myself more in the last week than I have in the last decade but I have no shame. 

It’s hard to feel shame when your senses are alive and thriving. 

Sex is not bad. It is not a sin to feel desire, although my husband would claim otherwise. In fact, he claims that women should find no pleasure whatsoever when it comes to sex, which seems to be the reason why the focus is never on me when he visits my room. No, he does what he likes until he gets off, having no idea how to truly please a woman.

Lord Cassian — the man I have made up in my mind this last week?

He knows how to please a woman.

He knows how to leave her gasping, screaming, how to make the eyes roll back in her head. He knows how to make her back arch, how to make her toes curl, how to make her cry out for the gods, the Mother, the Cauldron. He knows how to make that little feeling, wild and unruly, go mad in the pit of a woman’s stomach until she can no longer contain herself, until her heart is bursting out of her chest and she’s seeing stars. 

He knows how to make a woman find release and he doesn’t stop until she’s found it. 

I grip the plush velvet seat cushion as I squeeze my legs together, trapping my hand within. We hit a bump in the road and I jolt, but it only adds to the madness that I’m currently drowning myself in. 

My other hand joins my first and I pump two fingers deep inside of me, working in tandem with the one still making joyous circles over that sensitive bundle of nerves. A long string of words falls from my mouth in a devout whisper, words that would bring shame to my husband and his name, words that no lady should voice but I cannot help it.

His face is in my mind, his smile unfurling behind my closed lids. His body is bare and his hands are roaming my body, every stripped inch of me. I call out his name and he urges me on, thriving on my indecent vocalization. 

Within the confines of my coach, I throw a hand over my mouth to muffle what I cannot control while I find my release with those loyal, fervent fingers of mine. I keep moving until my body grows limp, that intensity that makes me feel alive fading into nothingness yet again. I smooth out my skirts and lean back against the bench, fighting to catch my breath. 

I wonder if my driver suspects anything but find that I don’t care. No one would ever dare tell Tomas, would not dare anger the Lord Mandray. 

No one would be that idiotic. It would be a death sentence, the messenger every bit at fault as I.

I can’t help myself. I laugh.

I break into such a fit of laughter that I fear I’m going insane, but oh, it feels so good to laugh! 

I laugh until tears are rolling down my cheeks and my sides begin to hurt, and it’s only when I collect myself that I realize it was the first time I had laughed in a long, long while. It feels good to laugh, as mad as I may seem. There is something utterly triumphant about feeling pure, demented joy. 

Staring out the window, I watch Velaris pass by as we make our way back to House Mandray. By the time we arrive, all of my wonderful, demented joy has faded.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Cassian

“What do you mean you’re not going?”

We’re sitting around Azriel’s dining room table, feasting on roasted chicken, when my brothers decide to insert themselves into my personal business, yet again.

“I’ve been to two balls this season.” I sigh, stabbing a carrot. “I don’t need to attend another.”

Azriel and Rhys look at one another, concern written plainly on their faces, but I pretend I don’t see it.

“Besides,” I continue, “none of the ladies have caught my eye this season. It is a waste of time.”

“But you love to dance,” Azriel says, the same time Rhys says, “but you love to drink.” 

It’s true. I adore both of those things, but I know where the next ball is being held, and even I am not courageous enough to step foot into the Mandray’s house again.

Nothing untoward happened with Nesta and I in the garden, but it was inappropriate, nonetheless. I was a little tipsy after my closed door meeting with Tomas, but I still had my wits about me. I know that I should not have been alone with Nesta, but I couldn’t stop myself.

From the moment I saw her under the starlight, I was gone. 

“I thought your meeting with Tomas went well,” Rhys pushes, buttering his roll. The same roll that he’d already been buttering for over a minute.

“It did,” I say, and leave it at that.

They, however, will not leave it at that.

“Then this has to do with the wife,” Azriel says, mouth full of potatoes.

It’s only the three of us.

Manners be damned.

Across from him, Rhys’ eyes light up and swivel back in my direction. “Ah, the wife. Lady Mandray. Did you come on to her again?”

I drop my knife and fork with a clatter and rub my temples. “No, I did not flirt with Nesta.”

“Nesta?” They both repeat in unison, and I instantly realize my mistake.

“Lady Mandray,” I correct myself using her formal title, “and I simply do not see what she has to do with my absence.”

“You have always been a terrible liar,” Rhys quips, clearing his plate. “But, if you wish to live in a state of deception, so be it.” 

“I’m not—” I take a deep breath before I can let my frustration take control. I’ve always been prone to anger, as much as I loathe the fact. “I’m not lying. I simply do not wish to attend a party when I can be home, working.”

Drinking in solitude is more like it, but that’s beside the point. 

“Work is all well and good but you must allow yourself to have fun every now and again,” Azriel says, his tone as skeptical as Rhysand’s. “Besides, haven’t we established that it’s about time you marry?”

“If it’s time I marry, it’s time we all marry,” I grumble. 

Azriel suddenly looks horrified while Rhys chokes on his wine. I know that neither of them are ready to be a husband, although we are all quickly approaching our third decade of life. Rhys sometimes pretends that he is, but when it comes down to it, I cannot even imagine him with any of the women of the ton. 

No young lady could handle Rhysand.

Azriel is different. I cannot tell if he’ll ever marry. It’s not that he has never been in a relationship or that he is incapable of love. He loves stronger than perhaps anyone I have ever known. I’ve always felt that is the very reason why he keeps himself so guarded. The only people he’s ever truly let get to know him are me, Rhys, Mor, and Amren. There was a time when he pined after Mor, but that was so long ago. 

“I am perfectly content as I am,” I go on, trying to convince them or myself I am not certain. I pick up my silverware yet again and make another attempt at finishing my supper. My carrots have gone cold. I hate cold carrots. 

“Back to the ball,” Rhys says, sitting back in his chair and stretching out his legs. “You’re going.”

“I am not going.”

“If you’re not going, then we do not go. If we do not go, we will be sad.”

“Your sadness is none of my concern.”

“Now you’re just being mean.” Rhys pours himself another glass of wine while Azriel’s eyes swivel between us. “If this is about Lady—”

“Lady Mandray is none of my concern.” Perhaps I should have waited for his sentence to end before mine began, but I have never been good at holding my tongue. 

“If she is none of your concern, then you will join us,” he says, smoothly, and he knows he’s already won before I even begin to resign. “We will drink their champagne and dance across their perfectly polished floors until sunrise while we are still young enough to do so.” 

Azriel finally finishes his third plate of food and sits back with a groan as I sigh. “You’re intolerable.” 

“He takes that as a compliment, you know,” Azriel murmurs, and I’m afraid he’s correct. There’s always been a darkness to Rhysand. Not an evilness, never evil, but a certain…edge. A certain slyness, a manipulation of sorts. In another life, I’m convinced he ruled his own kingdom. 

Kingdoms.

“I will join you,” I say, at last, and Rhys grins as he dwells in his victory.

I, however, feel nothing but unease. The thought of seeing Lady Nesta again so soon both excites and revolts me. I haven’t been able to get her face out of my mind, haven’t been able to shake that feeling that I had when I spoke to her.

Even though I was lost and she surely thinks me a fool.

No matter. She can think me a fool as long as she’s thinking of me.

The Mother knows I’ve been thinking about her. 

#nessian #period au #regency au #19th century au #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #fanfic #fanfiction #au #sjm

[separatist-apologist]

Lying In Between The Memories

You could call it paradise but it looks just like hell to me

Summary: Following the blood rite, Gwyneth Berdara can't shake the memories of a life long-gone.

The shadowsinger can't seem to move on after five centuries of loving the same woman.

Together, they'll have to carve a new path forward.

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

“Take these,” Nesta said, bringing an arm filled with dresses to Gwyn. “Feyre gave them to me but I’m never going to wear them.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Gwyn questioned, fingering the soft fabric of a pale yellow gown.

“Nothing. I just don’t attend as many elegant gatherings and parties as she thought I would. Let the Fae on the continent think we’re richer than we are and show up to dinner every night in a different, beautiful dress.”

Nesta grinned and too late, Gwyn wished she’d asked Nesta for help navigating court. That was something Nesta had been trained to do while Gwyn had never been trained for anything but serving in the temple. It was too late, now. Gwyn didn’t need to ask if Azriel was upstairs waiting, likely impatient. 

She was nervous, though. Sure, she’d agreed, but only to prove everyone wrong about her and not necessarily because she had any faith she’d be good at it. And now it was upon her faster than she’d expected and Gwyn barely knew what she was supposed to be doing at all.

Reaching for the High Lord’s letter, she read it again:

Gwyn,

I am so grateful and pleased you’ve chosen to accompany my spymaster to Montessere. Please see the bottom of this letter for the topics our two lands will be exchanging. Gather what you can, and be careful what you share. 

A trade of knowledge—and perhaps friendship—is the most valuable thing we have to offer in these troubling and turbulent times. It is my deepest wish and sincerest hope the hand you extend today will be a bridge between our two lands tomorrow. 

I trust you implicitly. 

Best,

Rhys 

Rhys. Not Rhysand, not High Lord. But Rhys. That was what Cassian called him—Nesta, too, when she didn’t tack on that bastard at the front. Gwyn felt included and that felt…strange. Exciting, but uncomfortable, too. More things to untangle, more things to navigate when Gwyn could barely put herself to bed at night. 

“I’ll take them, Gwyn said, letting Emerie help her fold them nicely for her bag. Emerie had brought over some pretty earrings and a pair of silver combs for her hair, given to Emerie by her mother. 

“Az said he thought you’d be back in a month,” Emerie murmured, her fingers working quickly. The air between the three of them was somber. Since they’d met, they hadn’t been separated by an untravelable distance. They’d been through everything together. 

And now they wouldn’t. Whatever happened to Gwyn, she’d be on her own. Holding up her bracelet, Gwyn said, “We’ll still be together.”

“You’ll be safe?” Nesta asked, eyes big and imploring. Emerie tucked a spring green gown into the bag, hands shaking slightly.

“You’ll remember what we’ve learned?”

Gwyn lifted her blue robes so they could see the holster Cassian had given her for one of the daggers she favored.

“Of course I will be. And Azriel will be there, remember?”

No words were spoken, nor were they necessary. There had always been something special between the three of them, something bigger than any bond the fates could construct. They merely stood there, holding each other's hands silently in a circle until Gwyn finally exhaled a sigh.

Not going would only prove everyone right about her, and she couldn’t stand the thought of Rhysand’s disappointment or Azriel’s relief. She could do hard things, or, that was just another lie she told herself. A month secluded in another library, collecting information on behalf of her home seemed like a relatively simple task. 

Certainly better than the things Nesta had been asked to do. Gwyn still had nightmares of Nesta’s time in the bog, recounted with a smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes. And Gwyn didn’t believe for a second Azriel would let her do anything dangerous, by virtue of wanting all the glory for himself.

That suited her just fine, even if it made her bristle a little. She felt torn between reality—she wanted to live a quiet life where no one looked too closely at her—and her ambition—she was capable of so much more than the aforementioned quiet life. She knew what Catrin would tell her to do, though. 

Be brave for once, Gwyn.

Catrin had been brave up until the very end. She’d died with defiance blazing in her eyes, chin jutted in the air. Almost daring that General to take her life and probably silently cursing him with her very last breath. Gwyn didn’t know if Catrin would approve of what she’d done with her life afterwards, but she knew Catrin would want her to be brave.

It had been those words that had pushed her to train with Nesta and to keep going during the blood rite when she’d trembling with fear. This mission had Catrins presence draped all over it, and Gwyn was just curious enough to want to know if the feeling was real, or just her overactive imagination.

Tucked away in her pocket was her sisters evoking stone. It was the only thing she had left of Catrin, retrieved by Mor when Gwyn had silently whispered for her sister. If she closed her eyes, she could still smell her sister's blood coating Mor’s hands and the look of pity in her brown eyes. 

Gwyn focused on Nesta and Emerie instead. She felt Catrin’s spirit every time she was with them. 

“Ready?” Em asked, tucking a thick brown curl behind her rounded ear. Heart thudding loud enough her friends could almost certainly hear, Gwyn nodded her head all the same. It was now or never, and to back out felt like some kind of moral failure.

She knew Em and Nesta wouldn’t judge her for it—they’d understand. But she couldn’t, and maybe the ghost of her sister couldn’t, either. The very thought of disappointing Catrin was enough to force her spine straight, to push one foot in front of the other. Up they went, Gwyn’s bag slung over Nesta’s shoulder as the three walked, flanked on either side of Gwyn. A million eyes watched, or that was how it felt. Gwyn didn’t dare look just in case someone’s expression convinced her to stay behind. Somewhere in all those gazes was Merril, pricking her back like the tip of a dagger. 

Don’t let her know you’re afraid. Gwyn jutted out her chin with the same defiance she’d seen Catrin wear. Maybe she could fake it until it was real. All that mattered was no one else could sense her insecurities which included Azriel, who was waiting for her up in the House of Wind with an expression so sour it was almost funny.

What had the High Lord threatened him with to convince him to agree? Rhysand was there, too, talking with Cassian. All conversation halted when the three of them appeared, leaving more watchful eyes and Azriel’s unusual shadows to fill the space between. Light seemed to shy away from him, and the tattoos crawling up his neck—for luck and glory in battle. That’s what Nesta had told her once, showing her the bargain tattoo on her back that she and Cassian had made. Gwyn thought she could use something like that.

In her pocket, she squeezed her sisters evoking stone. 

Rhysand and Cassian both smiled when they saw them. Azriel did not. Gwyn wanted to say something to him and thought it was better to ignore him entirely. She’d been asked, and if he didn’t like it, he could kick rocks. Rhysand wanted her to do this and Gwyn did, too.

Mostly, anyway. 

Azriel did step forward to take Gwyn’s bag from Nesta, gloved fingers brushing hers when she tried to snatch it from him. Cassian watched, brows raised, but before Gwyn could snipe at Azriel, Rhysand was speaking.

“Are you ready?”

Everyone kept asking her that. Did they think she’d say no? Gwyn smiled up at the High Lord, hiding her hands behind her back so no one would see how they shook. “Of course.”

“If you need anything, Azriel has assured me he’ll provide it.”

Yeah, I’ll bet he did, she thought moodily. “Easy peasy,” she said, letting the High Lord see only what she wanted him to. Happy, easy going Gwyn. Even as she cringed internally. Easy peasy? What did that even mean? 

Rhys’s smile was undiminished. “I have the utmost faith in you both.”

“Which is why you’re here waving me off like a child on their first day of school,” Azriel cut in dryly. Cassian snorted out a laugh while Nesta smothered hers behind fingers pressed against her lips. Only Emerie kept her hand on Gwyn’s shoulder, squeezing gently.

You can do this, that hand seemed to say.

Rhysand shot Azriel a look so unreadable that Gwyn didn’t bother to try. Both Nesta and Emerie threw their arms around her in one final goodbye.

“Don’t let him bully you,” Emerie whispered loud enough for Azriel to hear.

“Kick his ass if he tries,” Nesta agreed, face buried in Gwyn’s neck. Gwyn sighed, eyes drifting to Azriel. He was watching the three of them with wide eyes, fingers flexing at his sides. 

“I’ll be fine,” Gwyn said, the words oily in her mouth. They tasted false, like too much bravo tinged with blood. It wasn’t too late to call the whole thing off.

“Ready, Berdara?” Azriel asked gruffly. There was a challenge to those hazel eyes of his, to the quirk of his mouth. He was daring her to say she wasn’t—he knew. Heart thudding fear raced through her veins because somehow Azriel knew she wanted to say no. One of his shadows lingered on his broad shoulders and though it lacked anything that made it seem real, she swore there was something curious in the way it watched her.

“Ready, Shadowsinger,” she replied. This was their dynamic. Surface level and combative, though easy enough to step into. He didn’t make her think about his motivations, nor did he seem to care about her own. Better than Cassian, who was too damn curious, who always wanted to know what she was thinking and feeling. 

If Azriel had thoughts or feelings, Gwyn wasn’t aware. That was another blessing in disguise, as far as she was concerned.

“Let’s go, then.”

AZRIEL: 

Of all the moments Azriel had been dreading, asking Gwyn to touch her ranked high. The pair stood up on the rooftop, overlooking the city in the hazy morning light. He needed to winnow the two of them across the ocean and hope they landed close enough to walk. Otherwise they’d have to fly and something about pulling her into his arms seemed wrong.

It made his hands clammy, his stomach tight, at any rate. 

Gritting his teeth, Azriel held out his palm wordlessly. Gwyn glanced over before folding her own into his touch. The last thing he saw, as he gathered up his magic, was her teal eyes fluttering shut—bracing for what was coming. His skin ignited at the small touch, reminding him how little people felt comfortable doing so. And for all the hesitation he could see in her expression, Gwyn didn’t shy away from taking his hand. 

Small mercies, he supposed.

His shadows gathered around him like a storm cloud, ripping the pair of them from Velaris with little more than a soft, whispered time to go. Azriel reached for Gwyn out of instinct, yanking her closer out of preservation. Dropping her somewhere in the middle of the ocean wasn’t likely to score him any favor with his friends—or Nesta, for that matter. 

He heard her gasp and then nothing but the rushing sound of wind, followed by their grunts of pain as their feet collided with rough stone. 

Thank the mother, he thought, blinking open his eyes to find himself in the middle of a rather nice city. Not as nice as Velaris—hell, barely as nice as Rhodes, but better than some other shit holes he’d seen. The air didn’t smell like rotting sewage, at least, which was more than some Spring and Autumn towns could boast. Hardly poor from the looks of though they were on the outskirts where there seemed to be some level of poverty. Gwyn peered around him, blinking big, curious eyes at this new place. It was enough to keep him still so she could take it all in. Azriel could hear the ocean crashing somewhere in the distance and looming far overhead on a precarious cliffside was the palace Rhysand had warned him of.

His shadows, too, whispering little bits of gathered information into his ears.

The once beautiful Queen flung herself from one of those spires–

Market prices have risen again—

Wages are stagnant and people are hungry—

Smells like rebellion, want me to find out—

Azriel waved them all away with an impatient hand. He’d just arrived, and this wasn’t the point or purpose of his mission. He needed to know if the King of Montessere was working with Beron and to what end game. If his kingdom was on the brink of civil war, that was hardly Azriel’s fight. 

“Focus,” he murmured to the swirling shadow, glancing down at Gwyn. He reshouldered her bag and then began walking, certain she’d keep up.

“Have you been here before?” she asked breathlessly. Her fear had been replaced with wonder, a relief, all things considered. The last thing he needed was a trembling female cowering in his shadows. Gwyn could be so courageous when she wanted to be. It was jarring to see that fear crowding her eyes and Azriel didn’t understand how Rhys hadn’t noticed.

Maybe he hadn’t wanted to. Or maybe the mission was too important to be jeopardized by one nervous female. Azriel understood that, which was what kept him moving through what could only be described as slum toward the path that would take them up to the palace.

“No,” he told Gwyn, remembering she’d asked him a question. She bounced on her heels, nervously fingering the fabric of her blue dress while they walked. He doubted she’d ever seen such a sight. Azriel wasn’t used to such run down homes outside of a battlefield, but some of them seemed to be strung together with a few carefully worded prayers and nothing more. Clotheslines held more than just people’s garments blowing in the breeze, but trussed up chickens and spools of thread waving as they passed.

Children streaked past with dirty faces, barefoot as they splashed through puddles left from a recent rainstorm. Even in poverty, there was happiness to be found. He and Gwyn pushed further into the city, stumbling into the yawning market hub where even in the early hours, people bustled to and from to get their food for the day. The sounds of their mingling voices haggling over prices and calling out the new things they’d acquired drowned out any conversation he and Gwyn might have made.

And silenced the one question he had for her.

Why did you stop coming to training?

Azriel swallowed it. That was none of his business and yet training her had interrupted the monotony of his days and had given him something to focus on besides his own wretched thoughts. She’d been doing so well…and then she’d just stopped coming. Stopped seeking him out, or looking at him at all. Even now, Azriel would wrack his brain on occasion, trying to figure out what he might have said or done to put her off. 

Maybe it had nothing to do with him. Maybe it was her.

But maybe…

He shook his head, swallowing his anxiety until it merely buzzed in his throat. The homes were becoming larger and more spaced out and made of nicer materials. The people were dressed better, the streets quieter and lacking the divots and holes that had existed when they’d first stepped in. Salt from the ocean permeated the air, filling his senses pleasantly. Even his shadows swirled around, careful of the beaming sun overhead. They’d made themselves scarce by the time he and Gwyn reached the palace, not wanting to reveal their presence to the very people they’d be trailing. 

No one paid his shadows any mind, besides. They were too fixated on his wings, tucked tight against his back. Azriel was used to it and still it rankled him all the same. He couldn’t stand the way people stared openly, like he was some oddity—like he was beneath them. They barely spared Gwyn a passing glance, stopping in the middle of wherever they were going to look.

He told himself he didn’t care, but by the time they reached the winding path up the cliffside, Azriel’s patience was hanging by a razor wire. Here, carts pulled by strange, scaled looking horses trotted past them with riders who looked nothing like the Fae at home. Lesser, Azriel presumed, judging from the fur that came off them in tufts to beige and blue. They barely looked at him at all, a relief after nothing but what felt like endless stares. They were likely used to it, or didn’t care if a winged Illyrian armed to the teeth climbed the same roads they drove.

He was out of breath by the time they reached the top. Gwyn was hiding her own exhaustion, though pink crawled up her neck, betraying her all the same. The two took a breath, drinking in the sun bleached stone of the tightly built castle. There was little room for it to stretch, forcing it to reach for the sky. It was its own mountain, casting a shadow so wide his own could easily hide. 

Azriel took a breath, hoping Gwyn was better at court politics than him. He didn’t wish for Vanserra but as they came closer to the heavy, wooden door, he did wish he had Vanserra’s courtier's grace. As it stood, Azriel merely walked inside without an introduction, which seemed like the right thing to do given it had been left open for anyone. Tradesmen and servants bustled around them, their voices echoing off the high, arched ceiling overhead.

“So this is the new emissary,” came a booming voice. Azriel turned his head, looking past the floral papering on the walls and more of those unusual lesser Fae he was so curious about. This, he knew, must be King Gareth. Unusual to see a sovereign greeting guests—surely he had an emissary for that?

The male was older than Azriel was accustomed to, with hair that grayed against his temples and moon white skin. If he had to guess, Azriel would have thought this was a male who rarely saw sunlight, despite living so close to a beach.

Why?

There was no one to answer that question. Beside him, Gwyn took a graceful step forward with a smile that didn’t meet her wary teal eyes. She didn’t stumble, though, and when she offered the king her hand, Azriel believed Gwyn had done this a million times before. 

The king bowed, his blood red cape fluttering behind him. Azriel merely stood, hands clasped behind his back while his wings unfurled just enough to make it seem as though Gwyn had them, too. Gareth wouldn’t recognize it as a warning—truly only another Illyrian would—but his presence was imposing enough that when those pale blue eyes found his, Azriel thought he saw a flicker of discomfort.

“Does the High Lord of the Night Court often send a soldier to guard his priestesses?” “He does when they’re important,” Azriel replied tonelessly. The bow he offered was shallow, more incline of his head than true fealty. Azriel would only get on his knees for Rhysand, and only in the Hewn City, which was the only location such deference was demanded of him. 

Gareth wore a spiked crown atop his head of cornflower blonde hair. It was almost similar to the sun crown Helion Spell-Cleaver wore, though this black monstrosity looked more like a spiked gate than an indictment of ruling. Everything about this male was off-putting to Azriel.

“This exchange of knowledge is the first overture of friendship Prythian has ever made with us,” Gareth told Gwyn, eyes roving her body. Azriel resisted the urge to shield her with one of his wings while Gwyn’s posture became rigid beneath the appraisal. She was a beautiful female—and wasn’t here to service this King. 

His attention snapped back to her face, mouth curling in a mostly polite smile. Gwyn didn’t relax, so Azriel didn’t either. “I’m so grateful you’ve agreed for us to be here.” Gareth looked back at Azriel, gaze lingering on his wings. His smile faded for a moment before he turned. “Ah. My son, Prince Kai.”

Kai. 

Azriel forgot he was standing in the open hall of a castle or that he was surrounded by strangers. The prince seemed to command his attention, striding forward like a hero from a storybook. It was impossible not to draw comparisons between them—Kai seemed to radiate golden light. The moment he saw Gwyn, his handsome features lit into an easy, too-charming smile. Mor had spoken his name like a curse, and Azriel wondered what sort of rot was hiding beneath the blonde curls atop his too-symmetrical face. His blue eyes were darker, almost black when he stepped in the shadows and his skin just as pale as his fathers. Unnaturally so, Azriel decided. The Archeron sisters had fair skin, too, but not like this. Not so translucent he could see the blue of their veins thrumming just beneath the surface.

Kai bowed, reaching a gold ringed hand for Gwyn. Azriel leashed his temper, unsure why it made him so angry to see another male touch her. It was Gareth, he told himself—and how both males looked at her with too much appreciation that was undeserved. Gwyn was here to do a job, not to be a decorative ornament. 

“This is the priestess?” Kai asked, turning to look at his father.

“She has a name,” Azriel interrupted, causing Gwyn to turn her neck to look at him. “It’s Gwyneth.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful female,” Kai said smoothly. Azriel gagged in his mouth. Did that actually work? It seemed like the sort of thing a Vanserra would say right before they got hit in the nose. 

Gwyn offered another of those bland, fake smiles. The same she’d given to Rhysand right before they left, though her eyes weren’t laced with fear—but anger. They didn’t know the priestess had a knife beneath her robes but Azriel did. He almost hoped Kai pushed her a little too far, even if it meant explaining to Rhysand why any future diplomacy would fail.

He’d have to send in Lucien to smooth things over. 

Knowing Gwyn was setting up future suffering for a Vanserra settled some of Azriel’s frustrations. Kai’s eyes returned to Azriel and his wings, earning another frown. Azriel didn’t back down, inclining his head in a technical show of deference he didn’t feel.

“Well. I’m sure the journey has been long…did you fly the entire way?”

“Yes,” Gwyn said without missing a beat. “We’d love a moment to rest and catch our breath.”

“And what will….”

“Azriel,” Gwyn said before Azriel could, not bothering to look at him at all. “His name is Azriel.”

“What will Azriel here be doing while you’re pursuing our library?”

Azriel merely shrugged, catching how Kai’s eyes snagged on the dagger hugging his thigh. It was a warning, plain as day. “I like the beach.”

Neither Gareth nor Kai looked as though they believed him. Still, Kai finally wrangled someone semi-important that would be charged with ensuring Gwyn was comfortable and had everything she needed. Kai placed one last kiss against her knuckles while Azriel pretended like it didn’t annoy him, and then they were off. Azriel never though he’d miss the sun, but with every windowless corridor they walked through, he was certain there was something deeply strange about Montessere. They lived on the beach.

Why not move further inland? Why bother at all? Azriel’s skin felt too tight as they climbed up narrow stairs illuminated by floating faelights. It could have been the dead of night for all he knew. Normally he didn’t mind that, would have welcomed it even but now it seemed wrong.

He hadn’t caught the name of the male taking them to the rooms they’d be living in, and Azriel regretted that when one moonstone door was pushed open. Gwyn stepped in while Azriel waited, dropping her back in the threshold unceremoniously. His own was heavier given it was filled with weapons—not that he’d shared that information.

The male shifted from one foot to the other nervously. “Is…is something wrong?”

“No,” Azriel replied just in time for Gwyn to reappear, her face flushed.

“I uh—”

“No.”

There was absolutely no fucking way he was sharing a room with her. The male vanished, leaving Gwyn to say, “There are adjoining rooms…not just one bed.”

“Oh thank the Mother,” he breathed, reaching again for her bag. She wasn’t lying. Inside the spacious sitting area were two doors on opposite ends of the room. She’d picked the one furthest from the unlit fireplace, leaving Azriel to hand her the bag he’d been carrying and turn to the other. Setting his own things against the white covered mattress, Azriel ripped the curtains open to let sunlight stream in. Not because he preferred it, but because it seemed necessary somehow.

An act of rebellion in this new place. 

In the doorway, Gwyn paused, blinking against the brightness until her eyes watered.

“So,” she murmured, looking up at him.

Azriel took a breath.

“So,” he agreed.

#gwynriel #no one suggested a better day for this so tuesdays it is

[moonlightazriel]

New Year /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: "Azriel and reader celebrating the 31st dec night with Inner cricle, doing countdowns , kissing their mates 🥺❤ and after celebrating with IC , azriel celebrating new year with his mate in their bedroom ( you know what i mean 🙈🥵) and then waking up in each other's arm naked on the 1st day of new year , snuggling 🥰🥺 Ohh I'm Crying😭😭❤❤ ( SMUT and FLUFF)"

Warnings: SMUT

Word Count: 1,8K

Notes: It's really weird writing about new year and imagining it in the winter when i'm currently melting away with how hot it is today. Thank you @cherryjain17 for requesting this ❤️

Main Masterlist

I sipped in my drink, the wine warming up my body, I could feel the heat on my cheeks from the three glasses I already had tonight, everyone was laughing and smiling, this year Rhys and Feyre decided that the new year should be exclusively celebrated by the inner circle, so tonight was just about family. Mor was telling some joke, as she held Emerie’s hand, their bond had snapped only two months ago and we all were more than happy for them, they deserved all the happiness in the world.

I watched how they looked at each other, the gaze filled with love and I smiled, remembering how it was when the bond snapped into place for me and Azriel, the feeling of being finally complete, I squeezed my mate’s hand and he leaned towards me, his head resting on my shoulder while I kissed his hair. My eyes drifted to the clock on the wall, that indicated that it was almost midnight, Rhys must have noticed it too as he got up, clapping and demanding everyone’s attention.

“It’s almost midnight, and I have a gift for you all, more to my dear Feyre, but you guys get to enjoy it as well.” He extended his hand to Feyre helping her getting up, one by one, all of the couples followed him, he opened the door to the higher balcony in the River House, once we all gathered around, he counted the time, when the main clock in town announced the beginning of the new year, Rhysand snapped his fingers, suddenly, a colorful line ran towards the sky, exploding in a burst of color and sparkle, followed by another one, and then another, coloring the skies multiple times.

Azriel spun me around, until I was facing him, he removed a hair strand from my face, placing it behind my ear as he leaned into me, his lips capturing mine, the kiss was gentle, intimate, his hands held my waist firmly while his tongue licked my lower lip, I opened my mouth to him and he entered it, his tongue exploring every corner of my mouth, making my breath go uneven.

“Happy new year love.” He said as he parted the kiss, someone tapped on my shoulder, as I turned, Elain was offering us champagne, we thanked her and approached the rest of the group, the colorful explosions kept happening in the background as we all lifted our glasses for a toast.

“To a new year filled with peace, love and did I say peace? We really need it.” We all cracked a laugh at Rhys’s joke. “I’m glad to have such a wonderful family by my side, I love you all, but if you tell anyone, I will deny it for the rest of my life. Except for you, Feyre darling, the whole world needs to know that I love you.”

“I guess you made it very clear a lot of times you dickhead.” Mor said and again, everyone laughed so loud that the whole town might’ve heard us. As the show came to an end and Nesta started to complain about being cold, everyone got back inside, Amren and Varian were the first ones to leave.

“I guess we could go home too, don’t you think?” Azriel whispered on my ear, his breath causing me to shiver as it hit my neck, all the hair in my body getting up at the implied suggestion on his tone. I got up, gathering my purse and pulling Az with me, saying goodbye to everyone, I heard Cassian yelling as we reach the front door.

“Use protection! Ouch!” If I closed my eyes I could see Nesta slapping his arm for the comment and I snorted.

“Thank you Nes and fuck you Cassian.” I shouted before closing the door, the cold winds hit me and I shrugged, Azriel turned to me and asked me if I was cold. “Yeah, do you mind if we winnow instead of flying? I guess choosing a strapless dress for tonight wasn’t the smartest choice.”

“Don’t worry love, we will get rid of it in a minute.” He said, his voice low and powerful, sending a wave of heat through my body, I pressed my legs together and he laughed sarcastically before he held my hand, I huffed, already feeling the wetness gathering in my underwear, the shadows reunited around us as I winnowed us home, Azriel didn’t wait until we fully stepped out into our house to start distributing kissed along my shoulder.

His hands pulled my waist towards him, pressing my ass on the growing bulge in his pants, his left hand got up, his fingers brushing lightly my arm as he got higher to remove my hair from my neck, his lips burning my skin with every touch as he kissed the extension of my neck, I pressed my lips together to suppress a moan, his right hand got up as well, aiming for the zipper on my dress, pulling it down slowly, the fabric sliding on my body, pooling on the ground, I stepped out of it, left in only my underwear.

“You were without a bra this whole time? Fuck.” He whispered on my ear, I pressed my legs together once more and he pushed me forward, towards our bedroom. As I laid down, he stopped by the end of our bed, his hands quickly opening the buttons of his black shirt, his pants and underwear were discarded on the floor, he stood naked, like a fucking god, his brown skin and tattoos begging to be touched, as I made a move, trying to stand to get to him, he stopped me, his hands grabbing my ankles and pulling me towards the end of the bed.

“I’ve been hungry for you all night, let me have my well deserved feast.” He said and I trembled, resisting the urge to close my legs and hide from him, no matter how many years had passed between us, I would always get shy under his lustful gaze, he looked at me like he indeed was starving, he keneled in front of me, the only one I will ever get on my knees for, he said that to me once and I blushed as I remembered.

His tongue licked a string in my aching core, his hot tongue stealing my breath as he licked my clit, the circle motions he made, driving me insane, he took his time licking and kissing it as I moaned, the loud noises coming from the back of my throat. “Fuck Az.” He slowly inserted a finger, sliding it all the way inside me, curling it at the end until he hit the right spot inside me, I grabbed the sheets in my hands, the sound of ripping fabric was soft, but it was still there, those were my favorite sheets, I was sure that Azriel wouldn’t mind buying me new ones.

One of his hands reached my breasts, he played with my nipple as the orgasm grew in my lower belly, the knot in there was almost too much, he inserted another finger, moving faster, encouraged by my loud moans. “Az I can’t take it anymore.” I half moaned, half spoke, he looked at me through his lashes, his irises darkened with lust.

“Then cum for me love.” His voice was so sensual that I wasn’t able to control myself, the wave of pleasure hitting me, I closed my legs around his head while my cunt clenched his fingers in, Azriel kept licking, overstimulating my clit as he cleaned my orgasm. He got up, crawling on top of me, one of his hands grabbed my waist, lifting me up until I was laying rightfully in bed, the sensation of his strong arms lifting me like I was nothing more than a pillow got me soaking wet, and the moan that escaped my lips was sinful. “Do you like when I move you like this, don’t you?” I nodded eagerly and he smirked.

I cupped his face, pulling him down for a hungry kiss, his wings flared up behind him, one of my hands held his cock, stroking him up and down a few times, he bit my lower lip as I kept going, his forehead was resting against mine and I could feel him sending his love through the bond, i caressed the black thread between us in return at the same time I adjusted him on my entry, soaking his tip with my wetness, he sunk his cock deep inside me, we both moaned at the feeling.

He didn’t move for a while, waiting for me to stop clenching around him, as soon as he felt my body stopping, he started moving, his big cock moving in a slow pace, hitting the good spot inside me every damn time as he would slid all the way out just to slam his hips against me, I dragged my nails along his back, whispering to him that I wanted it faster, he was more than happy to attend my wished as his thrusts got faster, he started on a fast and steady pace, my lips couldn’t stay closed as I moaned his name over and over again.

The second orgasm started to build quicker than the first one, it didn’t take long for it to start being unbearable, my walls clenched hardly around him as I dug my nails even more on his skin, to the point of drawing blood, he sucked marks on my neck, his lips seemed to be glued to me as the orgasm hit me, powerful than the first one, I moaned his name loudly as I came, he was right after me, his warm seed spilling inside me.

He collapsed on my side, and I started to feel my eyelids heavy as we tried to catch our breaths, he pulled me closer, laying my head on his chest as he kissed my sweaty forehead. “Rest love, I know you’re tired from helping Feyre all day.”

“Goodnight Az, I love you.” I said, feeling the heaviness of sleep carry me away in it’s arms. When I woke up in the next morning Azriel was already awake, caressing my hair softly as he watched me sleep. “Hi Az.” I looked down, we were still very much naked and I giggled.

“Hi love, did you sleep well?” I looked at him, nodding and then burying my face on his chest, he held me closer and I could stay just like this, buried on his chest, feeling his scent and being warm in the arms of my mate.

“I love you so much.” I whispered against his skin, peppering with kisses along his belly.

“No more than I do.”

#azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar #smut #sarahjmaas #shadowsinger #a court of mist and fury #fluff #azriel x y/n #velaris #night court #moonlightazriel #a court of thorns and roses

[yazthebookish]

Emerie 💜 - Where she was, where she is now

Emerie was one of the most prominent characters in ACOSF and she's extremely underrated, this is why I wanted to post this detailed summary of when we first meet her to where she is now.

Trigger warning: this post will discuss domestic abuse and death of a parent as it's part of Emerie's past.

**A COURT OF FROST AND STARLIGHT**

We first meet Emerie in A Court of Frost and Starlight in Chapter 8 (Cassian's POV).

The slender young female behind the pine counter was already standing still. Watching him.

Cassian noticed the scars on her wings first. The careful, brutal scars down the center tendons.

Nausea roiled in his gut, even as he offered a smile and strode toward the polished coun-ter. Clipped. She'd been clipped.

"I'm looking for Proteus," he said, meeting the female's brown eyes. Sharp and shrewd.

Taken aback by his presence, but unafraid.

Her dark hair was braided simply, offering a clear view of her tan skin and narrow, angular face. Not a face of beauty, but striking.

Interesting.

Her eyes did not lower, not in the way Illyrian females had been ordered and trained to do. No, even with the clipping scars that proved traditional ways ran brutally deep in her family, she held his stare.

It reminded him of Nesta, that stare. Frank and unsettling.

Proteus was Emerie's father who died during the War against Hybern in ACOWAR. He was wealthy enough to open a his own shop and was known to be a decent warrior. However, the scars on Emerie's wings was proof enough to Cassian that her father might be a decent warrior, but not a decent person.

Emerie introduced herself to Cassian as the shop owner and Cassian was impressed by her unfaltering stance and determination to run the shop despite the fact that it would have gone to any male relatives of Proteus since she was his only daughter.

Cassian kept drawing comparisons between Nesta and Emerie and this gave us a good idea that if the two had met, they'll likely be a force to be reckoned with.

"Fire in those words. Emerie would make the families take them, whether they them,

wanted to or not.

He'd seen that fire before- and the steel.

He half wondered what might happen if the two of them ever met. What might come of it."

Cassian hands over delivery money and asks Emerie to help those in need since a storm is about to hit Windhaven. She mentions to him many in this camp don't like her but she will do her best to deliver it to those in need.

**A COURT OF SILVER FLAMES**

Emerie makes her first ACOSF appearance in Chapter 9 through Nesta's POV when Nesta shows up at her shop, and that marked their first meeting.

One of the first things Nesta makes a note of about Emerie is she could possibly have a recent ancestor from another region, possibly the Dawn Court.

Nesta and Emerie immediately clicked. Nesta was impressed by Emerie enough to admit there was steel in the female.

Chapter 25 marks Emerie's second appearance when Nesta revisits her shop. It was also the first time Nesta encounters Emerie's awful cousin, Bellius.

Bellius showed up drunken at Emerie's with a message from his father about the ownership of the shop which Emerie is determined to keep. Emerie admits to Nesta she gets these little visits from her uncle's family every now and then.

Emerie was kind enough to offer Nesta to have lunch with her and they both started to get to know to each other better from then on. Nesta finds Emerie's dishes delicious and Emerie tells Nesta that she grows her own vegetables and she seems a big fan of spices which are in short supply at Illyria.

Emerie shares part of her past with Nesta telling her that her Mother died giving birth to her (which we later on know the truth of it), she had an older brother who died in a skirmish between war bands ten years before she was born, and her father died in the War against Hybern. She has no other family members except her father's family who try to claim his shop and his wealth as their own, despite it being rightfully Emerie's since Rhysand changed the inheritance laws to include females.

From Emerie's questions about traveling, Nesta came to the conclusion that Emerie was unhappy at Windhaven. She asks if she would ever move away and Emerie says that she never left the village and where would she go? she knows people at Windhaven at least.

Emerie also tells Nesta that she often adds willow bark to her tea to help her with her pains since her wings (the scars) sometimes hurt like an old wound.

It was at this chapter Nesta offers Emerie to join their training, which Emerie rejects at first. In Chapter 27, Cassian delivers a gift from Nesta to Emerie containing six different types of spices. The gift was also partly given in kindness and to try and sway Emerie to join training. At the end of the chapter, Emerie finally showed up to training and the rest is history.

Throughout the book, Emerie develops a close bond to Nesta and Gwyn. They at first start to bond over romance novels, especially Sellyn Drake's novels even while training.

Emerie admits to Cassian that it wasn't the healers who clipped her own wings, it was her father and she fought him which made his clipping even sloppier. She rejects Cassian's offer to have Madja check on her wings. Cassian was considerate enough to work with Emerie one-on-one on her balance and mobility after he instructs Nesta and Gwyn on their own exercises since Emerie is far behind.

Emerie quickly picked up on the hot tension between Cassian and Nesta and often teases Nesta endlessly about it.

One of the nicknames Emerie picked if she owned a sword was "Foe Slayer".

Emerie was the first trainee to try and cut the ribbon. She obviously failed.

At Chapter 26, Nesta was surprised to find Emerie lingering at the library even though it's been hours since their training finished. Emerie said she wanted to see where Gwyn and Nesta work, her eyes were still on Mor and Clotho.

Emerie nods at Mor's direction and admits how she always forgets how beautiful Mor is and that Mor never comes to Windhaven these days, which could indicate that Emerie makes a note of how many times Mor shows up at the village. Nesta noticed Emerie's cheeks turning pink at that. Nesta had to call out Emerie who still had her gaze on Mor to walk out.

At the same scene when they stopped at level 5, Emerie's face paled and she swears to Nesta that she can hear her father screaming at her and the sounds of furniture breaking from the darkness below. It was later revealed to Nesta that the darkness was showing Nesta, Emerie, and all those priestesses all those dark, broken pieces because it was the same as them.

At Winter Solstice, we learn that Emerie feels an obligation to visit her awful family during solstices despite Nesta inviting her to spend it at the River House with them.

During the Blood Rite, Emerie bares the truth of her tragic past and what was done to her and to her mother.

Emerie's father constantly subjected her mother to physical abuse and it gotten to a point where he beat her mother so badly and she died. He even made Emerie dig her mother's grave at night. He told everyone else she died because of a miscarriage.

He never laid a hand on Emerie until her mother was gone, mostly because her mother shielded her from him. He beat Emerie once so badly that he had broken her back and kept her in bed for weeks. That was not the only instance, Emerie still feels the impact of him slamming her head into the wall, or crunching her fingers in a door, or just hitting her until she blacked out.

Yet the sad part was everyone in the village always believed him because of his charming persona and they told Emerie how lucky she is to have such a father to the point she started to think if she imagined all the abuse she was subjected to. Her scars remind her of the reality of it.

He never let her have her own money or allow her to earn her own. He never let her eat more than what he deemed appropriate. She can still hear him whenever she looks into the mirror or make a mistake.

When he died she felt so happy that the nightmare was over yet people expected her to mourn him.

She came to training because she knew he would have forbidden it. She came to training to get his voice out of her head. She came to training to stop any male of ever putting another hand on her even though it would never make things right for her for the fact that she hid while her father beat her mother.

And for her mother, Emerie scaled the summit and faced the breaking.

For her mother, Emerie became the first Illyrian female in history to become a Valkyrie and a Carynthian warrior.

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I wanted to share this detailed summary of Emerie's story and to remind readers of what a wonderful and resilient character she is.

I'm hopeful about Emerie's journey in the future, and I really hope she will be able to move away from her hateful relatives and see the world alongside Nesta and Gwyn. I hope she finds the love she deserves and maybe her and Mor could find love and healing together. I hope the Illyrian females see her as a beacon of hope that they can become more than obedient wives and daughters they are molded into, that they are capable of becoming more than that and dream bigger.

This was a long one I had to do my girl justice 🫶🏼

I'm also re-sharing along this post one the favorite art pieces I commissioned representing Emerie's journey 💜

Reminder: Emerie Appreciation Week is happening on 12th-18th November.

#acotar #acosf #emerie #emerie of illyria

[miss-shawdowsinger]

Soothing Darkness - Azriel X reader fanfic

Chapter 10

Summary: the day after Starfall Azriel is called away on business but when he returns Y/N ends up helping him.

Warnings: violence, swearing and angst!! Please only ready if you are 18+

AN: things are starting to heat up!! Thank you all for your support so far on this fanfic! Please please let me know what you think because I love reading your comments! Enjoy ❤️

Chapter 1

----

You arrived at the training rings the morning after Starfall with a surprisingly clear head. Gwyn, Emerie and a couple of the other priestesses were already waiting as you arrived. The spring sun was warm as the rays of sunlight fell on the mountain. If the heat was anything to go by, you would definitely not be needing your leather jacket.

“How was your Starfall?” Gwyn greeted you. “Wasn’t it just beautiful?” she gleamed.

“It was” you smiled at her, thinking of what had happened last night. Azriel would arrive at the training rings any minute and you felt like your chest was going to burst. You hadn’t slept much, thinking about the male who’s room was just opposite yours. It crossed your mind a couple of times to go and knock on his door but you weren’t able to build up the confidence. The two of you weren’t able to talk about the kiss you shared after being interrupted by Cassian. You hoped that you might get the chance today. “How was your date?” you turned to Emerie who was surprisingly quiet.

“It was….pleasant” she fought for the right word to say and you cringed.

“That good?” you laughed as your friend began blushing.

“Lets just say I would have rather joined you last night” she rolled her eyes.

Cassian and Nesta arrived together. Nesta kept rubbing her temples with her fingers as she joined the group. She may have had a bit too much to drink last night. You seemed to always catch her topping up her wine glass with Mor. You were glad it wasn’t you this time because last time you trained with a hangover, you felt like you were going to die.

“Don’t say a word” she scowled at you as you bit your lip to stop from laughing.

“Good morning ladies” Cassian stood in front of the group. “We are going to practise one on one combat today. So, lets warm up and then pair off” he clapped his hands together and everyone followed his instruction.

You were all halfway through your warm up exercises when Azriel finally arrived. His hazel eyes scanned the training ring until they found yours. Your heart momentarily stopped, holding your stretch for a bit longer than necessary whilst you gauged his reaction to you. His face was unreadable but then the corner of his mouth twitch upwards into a knowing smile. You smiled back, taking in the breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and releasing your stretch.

“Now that my punching bag has arrived” Cassian gained the groups attention by slapping Azriel on his back, earning a scowl from him. “We are going to demonstrate one to one combat. I think Az here needs to get it out of his system and I always love knocking him on his ass” Cassian teased.

“Keep talking a big game Cass and you’ll embarrass yourself even more when you find it’s you in the dirt” Azriel’s face had turned dark. Cassian barked a laugh as the sun beamed down on him. He undid the first couple of buttons on his shirt before pulling it off. You had to stop yourself from gawking at the Illyrian’s physique, especially when his mate was stood right next to you.

“Lets go then” Cassian growled. Azriel looked him up and down before smirking, following his friend by slowly taking off his own shirt. Heat flushed your cheeks and you had to swallow hard. His torso was perfectly muscled from his chest to all of his abs. His Illyrian tattoos ran over his pectorals right down his big strong arms to his wrist. He took your breath away.

The two Illyrians circled around one another, wings tucked tightly behind their toned backs. They each waited for the other to make the first move. “They do this every so often” Nesta sighed as the rest of the group watched intently. “It’s like they have this build up of emotions that they have to let out by fighting each other, Rhys too” she rolled her eyes.

“They haven’t done anything yet” Gwyn remarked just as Cassian lunged at Azriel. The group gasped as Azriel dodged Cassians attack, landing a punch to his ribs. Cassian grunted and spun. Suddenly it had gone from a game of patients to attack and defence. Both Illyrians blocked, kicked and punched. There wings spreading and tightening behind them to keep their balance.

Cassian landed a rather hard hit to Azriel’s jaw, causing him to stumble backwards. Azriel rubbed at his already bruised skin. “Finished already Az?” Cassian smirked and then whispered something under his breath. Azriel looked up, his face stared like cold death at his Illyrian brother. A deep growl reminted from his chest. As he lunged forward, shadows curling around his neck and arms.

Cassian blocked each strike, but Azriel was like a male possessed with rage. Blow after blow was struck. Azriel’s muscles taught with each punch. He slowed momentarily, allowing Cassian to believe he had tired. Cassian lowered his arms only slightly to watch his opponent. That’s when Azriel struck one more time, landing not one but two punches. The first hit Cassian in the stomach, winding him. The second connected to his jaw. Cassian fell backwards to the floor.

Azriel stood over the top of him. Sweat gleaming over his brow and torso. “I hate to say it” Azriel smirked as he stood over Cassian, now rubbing his own jaw.

“Then don’t” Cassian growled. Azriel offered his brother his hand to help him up which Cassian took begrudgingly.

“I told you so” Azriel clapped him on the back hard. Cassian scowled at him before turning to the group.

“Right pair off ladies and play nicely, unlike this one” Cassian rolled his eyes. Azriel had a victorious smile on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Y/N, you’re with me” you heard Nesta say from next to you. Although you found it very difficult to tear your sights away from the topless Illyrian, you followed her across the ring. “Idiots. Both of them” she scowled.

“Who usually wins?” you asked timidly.

“It really depends” she shrugged her shoulder. “Azriel clearly had some pent-up emotion today but they are all as good as each other. I think Cassian won the last one. When Rhys is involved it’s usually one of the Illyrians just because he’s out of shape”.

You and Nesta worked for the whole session together. The both of you didn’t go quite as far as the demonstration but Nesta knocked you on your ass more times than you could count. You managed to knock her over once, thanks to Cassian distracting her as he walked by. He laughed earning a scowl and a rude gesture from Nesta in return.

Even though Nesta was hungover she still managed to best you every time. After an hour of being knocked over, you both called it quits. Taking a much deserved drinking break, the two of you sat watching as the rest of the group continued. “My sister has invited us all to a family dinner at the end of this week. She asked if you would want to join” Nesta said whilst catching her breath.

“That’s kind of her” you smiled. You were torn. Of course you would love to go but you weren’t part of there family and didn’t want you to intrude.

“I said you would come. I thought being in the house by yourself would be boring and you could just meet us after you finish at the bakery” she instructed.

“Are you two going to get of your ass’ and do something?” Cassian stood over the both of you, distracting you from your convocation.

“Oh shove off, we’ve done enough” Nesta rolled her eyes.

“Nesta has already killed me more times than I can count” you agreed.

“Then pair off with someone else” Cassian tilted his head disapprovingly. The two of you just stared up at him, unmoving, until he sighed and walked back off to circle the rest of the group. The two of you laughed at his feeble attempt.

The two of you watched the rest of the session from the side of the training rings. Just before the session was due to finish Mor arrived. Her face was pale and clammy as she strode across the training rings. She marched straight over to Azriel and handed him a note. You watched as he read it carefully, his eyes turning dark as he read. Cassian joined them and read the note afterwards.

The three of them looked between each other and then Azriel marched from the training rings. He strode straight by you and Nesta who had now stood up from the ground. “What’s going on?” Nesta shouted out to him as he passed. His shoulders tightened as he paused to face the two of you.

“Koschei” his deep voice was cold as ice as he uttered the name. His hazel eyes met yours “I need to go” you nodded in understanding as he turned from you both and was gone.

“Who’s Koschei?” you quietly asked Nesta who had tensed at the name.

“No one you need to worry about” she patted your arm. “I’ll catch up with you later” she left you at the side of the ring as training ended and the priestesses dispersed. Cassian, Mor and Nesta now stood at the very far side discussing as you glanced over your shoulder one last time before heading to your room.

~~

Azriel had been gone for three days. Cassian even cancelled training on one day because he had to go join him. You still dragged yourself up to the training rings each morning, to your surprise so did a couple of the others. The six of you trained together for an hour before returning back to your days. During lunch and dinner Nesta didn’t mention Koschei or who they were. You decided it would probably be better if you didn’t know. Not that she would tell you anyway.

You sat in bed after a long day. The bakery was just as quiet as usual, giving you time to overthink. You thought about the kiss and how you haven’t been able to talk to Azriel about it. Azriel, who could be mother knows where. He could be hurt for all you knew. Whenever you felt your mind wondering to far you practised mind-stilling but it only worked for so long.

You began to settle, reading one of the books that Emerie had recommended. A mug of hot chocolate appeared on your bed side table as you pulled the bed covers as high as they would go. “Thank you” you whispered to the house. As you were reaching a steady flow of reading, footsteps from outside your door grasped your attention. You watched as the shadows from the light underneath the door flickered indicating where the figure was.

“Az?” you heard Cassian’s voice whisper. “Your back. You look like you’ve had better days”. Your chest eased slightly. He was back and he was safe.

“I just need sleep” Azriel’s deep voice sounded like quiet thunder. “I’ll report to Rhys tomorrow”. There were a few scuffled footsteps and then the sound of doors opening and closing. Then quiet. You put your book down on the table and the faelight went out. Now that you knew he was safe you could sleep.

~~

Fear. You were jolted awake by pure fear. It shook you to your bones, you could feel the cold sweat running down your brow as you sat bolt upright. You don’t remember having a nightmare but you could feel the deathly edge of fear crawling down your spine. It was still pitch black outside as you turned your attention to the clock in the room. 2:20am.

You felt like you needed to get up, like something was calling you. You needed to leave the room and follow this pull but you forced yourself to stay under the covers. That’s when you heard it. The noise shook you to the bone, a noise you would never be able to forget. Your heart felt like it had stopped altogether as your blood ran ice cold. Azriel was screaming.

Before you could register what was happening you flung the covers from your body, leaving you in just your nightgown. You didn’t think about what could be waiting for you as you ran from your room and into the hallway. His screams were getting louder. The pain he must be enduring was excruciating to listen too. To your surprise Cassian wasn’t already there but you had no time to wait. Azriel’s door was right in front of you.

You threw the door open. Shadows filled the room in swirling darkness as the door closed behind you. You allowed your eyes to adjust slightly before stepping further inside. The shadows curled around you, in a more frantic caress then before. You moved quickly, finding Azriel in his bed. His skin was glistening with sweat as he tossed from side to side. The screams were still filling your head, but his lips were unmoving. He was having a nightmare.

You moved to the edge of the bed. His bare torso was covered in sweat as he writhed around, kicking the covers from his body. You had to help him, had to wake him up somehow. Gently you bent over him and used both hands on his shoulders to gently shake him.

“Azriel” you whispered soothingly. “Azriel, you need to wake up. Everything is alright”. His fists balled up, his knuckled turning white. His black hair stuck to his wet forehead. You had never seen him so pale. “Azriel” you tried again shaking him harder.

Quicker than a lightning bolt flashing across the sky. Azriel’s hand whipped up and grabbed your throat, flipping you over to pin you onto the bed. A dagger held in his other hand, ready to make a fatal swipe.

“Azriel, it’s me” you breathed as the wind got knocked out of you. His eyes were glazed over in a panicked haze. It was as if he was looking but not seeing. He seemed to pause, heaving breaths as he assessed the situation. “It’s me” you stared into his hazel eyes as they came into focus.

“Y/N?” he whispered, eyebrows furrowing as he came back to reality. His shadows curled back into him leaving one caressing his neck. He stared down realising that he still held a dagger to you and was pinning you by your throat. He pulled both hands away from you, like he had been burnt and you heaved a breath. Azriel was knelt over you on his bed, staring at the scared hands that were just threatening you.

“Azriel, are you alright?” you sat up to kneel in front of him. You reached up slowly, to not frighten him, and placed both your hands in his. His eyes widened at your touch as you brought his hands down from his face. Hazel eyes met yours, then he scanned your neck.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” his voice was mixture of pain and panic as one of his hands moved to gently assess your neck.

“No Az, I’m fine” you shook your head. It was true, although he had pinned you down, his eyes dark as they bore into you. He hadn’t harmed you. Although your heart was still racing in your chest as everything happened so quickly.

“What happened?” his hand still softly placed on your neck, making sure you looked at him in his eyes. His head shook in confusion of why you might be there.

“I heard you scream so I came to see if you were alright. I think you were having a nightmare” you shuddered at the memory of his scream still ringing in your ears. You had never experienced such fear. “I tried to wake you but I don’t think that was the best idea” you half smiled.

“You’re sure I screamed?” Azriel’s brow furrowed. His bare chest still heaving as he took deep breaths to calm himself.

“I heard you, but I thought Cassian would be here by now” you looked towards the closed, empty doorway. There was no sign of Cassian or Nesta, surely they couldn’t have slept through that. The scream was so loud, half of Velaris could have heard it.

“Thank you” Azriel’s eyes softened. You suddenly became very aware of the situation. You were both in Azriel’s room alone. Azriel was in nothing but his boxer shorts and you were only in a small nightgown. The two of you knelt before each other, his hand in yours as the other still placed lightly on the nape of your neck. Heat flushed to your cheeks.

“I should go” you breathed. You began to move from the bed when Azriel’s grip tightened slightly on your hand. His hazel eyes looked pleadingly at you. He opened and closed his mouth as if he was about to say something. His throat bobbed slightly before he released his grip on you. You paused before you asked. “Do you want me to stay?”.

You are not sure where you got the confidence from to ask but his hazel eyes met yours in slight surprise. The corner of his mouth turned upwards as he nodded. He moved over to give you room as you sat back down on the bed, pulling the covers over you. The bed was huge, allowing extra room for his membranous wings. He laid back down on one side of the bed whilst you settled into the space beside him.

You took as shaky breath as you stared up at the ceiling. A couple moments passed in tense silence as you tried to control your breathing. Azriel breathed a small, quiet laugh. You were just about to turn over and ask what was so funny when one of his strong arms snaked under you. His other arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him. He positioned your back into his chest as his wings cocooned around you.

You found it hard to suppress the smile that threatened your lips. His arms wrapped round you and pulled you closer to him in a warm embrace. You backed up into him, feeling is muscled body pressed against your spine. His hard arousal against your ass made your breath hitch. You moved your hips back against him, a low growl emanating from his chest at your movement.

“Y/N” Azriel’s deep voice whispered into your ear. His breath hot on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “You need sleep. I’d rather not see Nesta knock you on your pretty little ass again” you could feel his smile on your skin as he kissed the nape of your neck. You fought to hold the moan sitting in your throat as you swallowed hard.

Fine. You thought. Two can play that game.

You moved your hips forward slightly. All the pressure between your ass and his hardness was filled with an empty space. Azriel sighed deeply, tightening his grip around your body. “Goodnight then” you smirked, knowing exactly what you had done to him.

~~

You opened your eyes slowly, not realising where you were. You were surrounded by a membranous cover. Then you felt the relaxed grip around your body and the press of Azriel’s muscled frame against your back. You bit your lower lip lightly as you smiled, feeling the warmth from his body pressed tightly against you.

“Morning” his deeper almost croaked voice breathed against your neck.

“Morning” you returned as he tightened his grip slightly on you. “How did you sleep?” you asked shyly.

“A lot better, thank you” he nuzzled into your neck.

“You kissed me on Starfall” you whispered. You couldn’t think of the next opportunity you would get to talk about it. He hummed in response. “Do you regret it?” you cringed as he went still. You decided you would rather know now if all this was just spur of the moment things or if they meant anything more. If it was just a spur of the moment, then you could stop it and spare your feelings that seemed to grow each day.

He took in a deep breath. The silence growing louder by the second. Suddenly, he flipped you around to meet him face to face. Chest to chest. His hazel eyes met yours, his lips barely an inch away as he pulled you in tighter.

His hair was slightly messy from sleep and his eyes were relaxed. “Y/N” he sighed in slight amusement. “You are in my bed”.

“You didn’t ask me to be here” you let the words slip out.

“But I wanted you to stay” he smirked leaning his brow against yours. “Do you think I would have done that if I regretted kissing you? If Cassian hadn’t of interrupted us, I would have said ‘you have no idea how long I had waited to do that’. Why, do you regret it?” his eyes widened slightly.

“No, not at all” the words came out in a rush. He smiled as he moved a loose strand of hair that fell across your face, behind your ear. His lips then softly met yours. He kissed you lightly at first, then you opened your mouth granting his tongue access to explore you. One of his arms was still snaked under you, pulling you closer to him while the other was tracing circles onto your bare thigh.

You wrapped one of your arms over his shoulder and round his neck whilst the other hand lay flat on his chisel chest. Feeling his heartbeat quicken under your fingertips. His grip found the back of your knee, pulling you over him to straddle his hips. Azriel sat upright with you over him, hands placed around your waist to pull you even closer. Deepening the kiss as your nightgown hitched up around your hips.

You could feel the heat rising in between your legs as Azriel began trailing hot kisses down your jawline and neck. You tilted your head to the side, granting him more access as you held onto his shoulders, feeling his strong muscles as he gripped you. He had barely touched you but your body was already in pure ecstasy as he reattached his lips to yours. You could feel his hard arousal between your legs as you pushed your hips down.

“Az” Cassian shouted through the door. The two of you stopped kissing as Azriel growled.

“What?” he snapped.

“Training is in ten minutes”. Azriel tipped his head back and sighed but he didn’t loosen his grip on you. You bit your lip and placed one of your hands over your mouth to stop from making any sort of noise.

“I’ll be right out” Azriel sneered. You both stayed silent as you listened to Cassian’s footsteps as they slowly disappeared down the hall. “I could kill him” Azriel placed a soft kiss to your lips.

“I’ll help” you smirked. “I better go get ready” just as you went to move from his grip, Azriel flipped you both over. He hovered over you as your back laid softly in the bed. His body still between your legs as he groaned.

“I want you back here” he kissed your collarbone lightly. “Where we will continue, uninterrupted” his voice was deep and predatory as he emphasised the last word. You shivered as the thought tremored through you.

Chapter 11

#acotar #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #batboys #cassian

[estellaluna]

I have this gwynriel airport au idea for quite some time now and I have to let it out or I’m going to go crazy if not.

***

• As soon as Nesta and Emerie found out that the guy Gwyn was dating dumped her through phone call, they were furious.

• The next thing Gwyn knew, she already has a roundtrip plane ticket to Velaris for 2 weeks. All paid by Nesta. She even argued with Nesta that she doesn’t need it, but let’s be real, no one ever wins an argument against her best friend.

• Gwyn eventually had given up and found herself in the plane. “Great, just great!” she muttered to herself. Well, at least she has the window seat.

• She stopped right beside her assigned seat and tried to lift her carry-on luggage at the overhead compartment. She is tall—even taller than Nesta. But for some reason, she couldn’t lift her luggage. She blames the caffeine she ingested after her night shift from work just to run at the airport to catch this flight. It made her hands and fingers jittery.

• “Excuse me, do you need help with that?” the person behind her asked her.

• “Yes, please! Thank you!” she replied without looking at the person.

• She gave the luggage to the man behind her and went to her seat. Great, now all she needs to do is sleep through the flight. That sounds great. But then she felt a movement next to her seat that made her turn her head to the side. It was the guy that helped her. He gave her a polite smile before settling his backpack on the floor.

• She found herself staring at the guy sitting beside her. Maybe the flight wouldn’t be that bad. Especially when she’s seated next to a man with perfect side profile.

• “Uhm, thank you. Again. For helping me,” she said again, still looking at him. He turned to his side, eyebrows up, pursed lips.

• “No problem,” he said. Even his voice is perfect. She wondered if he could sing. She sighed and erased the very random though in her brain.

• “Bad day?” the guy asked.

• Gwyn looked at the person beside her with furrowed eyebrows, wondering what gave it away. “You seemed frustrating earlier, then you sighed like 3 times,” the guy said. She was surprised he caught all that.

• “Well, yeah. First, the guy I’m dating…” she paused. “Was dating, just dumped me through a phone call. His reason was because I am too ‘independent’ that he doesn’t feel like we would work out. Then my best friend insisted to have a vacation in her two weeks, third, I just got off my night shift, then drank 2 extra strong espresso shots, now I’m feeling so jittery and my heart is beating so fast I think I’m going to pass out. And that all happened in less than 24 hours.”

• She took a deep breath after all that, and the guy didn’t respond for a few seconds. Meaning solid 15 seconds in which she just realized she overshared to a stranger again.

• It’s not the first time she overshared with a stranger. The guy looked dumbfounded.

• “That sucks for you…” the guy said. “And his reason is bullshit. He doesn’t deserve you.”

• She turned her gaze towards the guy beside her only to find him looking at the screen in front of him. He doesn’t deserve you? He doesn’t even know her to say something like that, but for some reason, she felt better hearing that.

• “So, where to?” the guy asked, his gaze still at the screen.

• “Velaris,” she answered.

• He looked at her. “Same,” he said.

• “Are you going there for a vacation, too?”

• He shook his head. “Nope, I was from Velaris. Going back to town after some businesses.”

• She is supposed to sleep through this flight, and feel better by the time she gets to her destination, but she was stuck with a conversation with this stranger. She didn’t even realize that it had been 3 hours.

• “Do you always do that?” the guy asked that made Gwyn’s forehead crease.

• “Do what?”

• “Overshare stuff?” he said with a little smirk in his face. “Don’t worry I won’t use it against you,” he added.

• She rolled her teal eyes. “Yeah, right. After this we may or may not see each other again so you can never use it against me.” she spat that earned her a soft chuckle from him. “But to answer your question, only when I’m frustrated. I only overshare when I’m frustrated.”

• “Well…” he said. “Ma’am, you never know. You said you’re visiting Velaris because of a friend. Velaris is a small city. Your friend might be my friend’s friend. We might even cross paths in some random street corner.”

• She laughed. “You’re that confident we’ll meet again?”

• “Let’s just say I work with the governor of that city. I have my ways. I have my resources. I have connections.”

• “What? Are some part of intelligence agency or whatever?”

• He only smiled. “You know we’ve been talking for nearly 3 hours. I still haven’t got your name, yet.”

• Gwyn stared at his hazel irises for few seconds before looking away. “Wouldn’t it be better if we stay strangers?”

• “I take that as you don’t want to give me your name. What should I call you then, Ms. Stranger? I don’t want to call you Ms. Stranger forever.”

• Gwyn shrugged her shoulders.

• “Ms. Stranger with teal blue eyes?”

• She looked at him with disbelief. He grinned.

• “Yes, that’s perfect, Mr. perfectly fine,” she replied.

• He grinned wider. “You think I’m fine?”

• “It’s a Taylor Swift reference,” she retorted.

• “I know. I’m a fan,” he said, enthusiastically.

• There was a long paused before she yawned. He seemed to notice her so he looked at his wristwatch. “We have roughly an hour and a half left. You can sleep. I’ll wake you up when we’re about to land.”

• Gwyn only nodded and propped her head against near the window.

• She awoke from a tap on her shoulder. She squinted her eyes only to find the guys handsome face, her head leaning on his shoulder. She quickly lifted her head, fixing her hair.

• Both of them decided to wait until most of the passengers had left the plane before they decided to leave. He helped her with her luggage and she said her thanks for the last time.

• “So long, Ms. Stranger with teal blue eyes,” he said and she waved her goodbye.

• After going through the TSA, she fish her phone in her pocket to call Nesta and Emerie.

• She furrowed her eyebrows when she felt a piece of paper, folded in half.

• ‘Hey, Ms. Stranger with teal blue eyes. I know you said we may or may not see each other again, but I refuse for it be that way. After all, I still want to know your name. Text me, call me, or do whatever you want. Here’s my number. — Mr. Perfectly Fine (Azriel)’

#gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #azwyn #gwynriel au #fanfic #gwyn berdara #azriel #azriel shadowsinger

[tsunami-of-tears]

A Court of Shadows and Sunshine — Part Three

Azriel x OC

Summary: The pull between Aurora and Azriel only grows stronger.

A/N: This fic is ridiculous, I’m having so much fun writing it x

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Swearing, sexual themes, mention of death

Part Two

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

Aurora

A few days had passed since your visit to the House of Wind, and you were doing everything you could to keep from thinking about it. You threw yourself into your work, you couldn’t even bring yourself to read. The thoughts those books triggered were far too dangerous, not to mention unprofessional. 

It’s late in the evening, you’re still at your studio working on a new program when you hear a knock on the door. 

Who would be stopping by at this hour? 

You open the door to find a familiar blonde female standing there.  

“It’s getting bloody cold out!” Mor walks past you into the warmth of your studio. “So, I heard you taught a special class this week. How did you go?” Mor raises her brows and grins.

“I got offered an ongoing position, so I’d say it went fairly well. I must say, I have been wondering who gave Nesta my details.” You raise your brows back at the female. 

“Now that is a good question, Rory.” 

You sigh and shake your head. You had suspected Mor was behind it in some way - she was such a busybody. 

“Whatever you did, thank you. At this rate I owe you a heck of a lot of favours.” 

Mor just laughs and shrugs you off. “What are friends for?” She pauses briefly, “I did genuinely come here to check on you. How are you doing?” 

“Oh you know, same old. Keeping busy.” 

“Okay I guess I’ll leave you to it, you should probably get home soon though. It’s late.” Mor makes a move towards the door. “You know where to find me if you need anything.”

“I know. See you around, Mor.” She offers that every time you see each other, but you already owe her a life debt - you couldn’t possibly ask for more than that. 

Mor was the one who brought you to Velaris all those years ago. She is the only person who knows where you come from, aside from Rhysand and Helion. Mor checks in on you every couple of months, you have never asked her for anything. You’ve considered a proper friendship with the female, but with all she’s done for you - you feel like too much of a burden. Your rejections of her offers to hang out haven’t deterred Mor, who continues to show up and call you by your nickname. Even so, you hate to be a bother. 

You finally decide to head home. Work will still be there in the morning. Stepping outside, you welcome the bitter wind. It allows your thoughts to focus on retaining body heat, rather than your interaction with Mor and the many questions you know she was holding back. 

————

The day of training at the House is here. You had a terrible sleep last night, tossing and turning in anticipation of the session.

It turns out you had nothing to be worried about - both Cassian and Azriel had important business to attend to elsewhere. You couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed when Azriel wasn’t in the training ring. 

You went a little easier on the group today, partially due to your tiredness. 

After class, you hang around to get to know Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie some more. You enjoy all of their company. They share many stories about their lives - how they got started with the training, their Valkyrie research, and how insufferable Nesta and Cassian were before their mating bond snapped.

“Oh Aurora, you had to see it. You could cut the tension with a sword.” Emerie snorts, clutching her stomach. 

Gwyn chimes in, “And it only got worse as it dragged on. Now they are settled we can finally stand to be around them.” 

Nesta simply sticks her tongue out, not really bothered by the comments. 

After plenty of laughs and a few more book recommendations, Gwyn and Emerie leave the House. They both have to get to work. 

Alone with Nesta, she takes you on a tour of the House. You end up in the library with some tea, and a stack of books to take home. You don’t mention that you haven’t been in the mood for them lately.

“So, Aurora, are you seeing anyone?” Nesta asks playfully. 

You try to brush off her question, “No, I’m so busy with work that I don’t really have time for it.” 

“There’s no one that you’re interested in then?” 

Damn, you were hoping to avoid this, you’re a terrible liar but you do trust your new friend. Sighing, you say “I suppose there is someone who caught my eye recently.”

Neither of you noticed that Cassian had crept into the room. “No need to be embarrassed sweetheart, females can’t help themselves around me.” Both you and Nesta whip your heads to the now open door, to see the smirking male leaning against the door frame. 

Your face heats after your admission, but you’re relieved you hadn’t mentioned any names. You try to think of a witty comeback but your mouth refuses to cooperate -  it opens and closes, yet no words come out. 

Nesta saves you from answering, “It’s bold to assume we were talking about you, sweetheart.” She makes a move towards Cassian, and leans in to give her mate a soft kiss in greeting. “You’re early. How was Windhaven?”

Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, “Devlon is still resistant in training the females. Progress in the camps moves at a snails pace.” Turning to you, Cassian asks, “How was training this morning?”

Finally finding your voice, “Everyone is doing really well, very enthusiastic.”

Nesta chimes in, “Except not everyone showed up today.”

The mates exchange a knowing look and you know they are speaking mind to mind. You have seen your parents do the same all your life. 

“Interesting…” Cassian trails off. “Aurora, I’m heading into town, do you need a lift back home?” 

You accept his offer, hoping you’ll eventually get used to the flying.  

————

Azriel

Sitting in the study of the River House, Azriel is expecting to receive an earful. He’d lied to avoid training that morning, he just couldn’t face Aurora yet. He knew he would have to eventually, but he wanted to postpone the awkwardness. She wouldn’t know about the filthy dreams he’d been having about her, but he wasn’t sure he could look her in the eye again. 

Azriel’s thoughts are interrupted as Cassian enters, sitting to the right of the shadowsinger. Mor is in an armchair across from them, Rhys is leaning against his desk while Feyre rocks Nyx in the chair next to Mor.

“Amren is occupied. We still haven’t gotten any news of Bryaxis so she's looking into some tracking spells.” Rhys explains, moving to sit on the arm of Feyre’s chair.

Cassian shudders at the mention of the beast.

“But that’s not why we’re here.” Rhys looks to Azriel, “How’s training?”

Azriel nods, “It’s good.” 

Cassian shakes his head,  “Aurora showed me up. She’s better than good. I’d kill to see her with some weapons training. She’d make a fierce Valkyrie.”

Azriel goes silent, he doesn’t want his mouth to betray him.

The truth is, he’s completely captivated by Aurora. It's obvious how fierce she is, almost as determined as Nesta but still soft, and bubbly... He couldn’t even control his shadows around her. They were drawn to her, which confused Azriel - how could someone so radiant attract such darkness? 

Azriel’s shadows bring his attention back to the room. He’d gotten lost in his thoughts for a moment and hoped it wasn’t too obvious.

Rhys smirked at Azriel, arms folded over his chest. “It’s clear she’s made an impression. I’d like to meet her. Extend an invitation to family dinner next week, we’ll have it here.” 

————

The morning of training comes around agonisingly slow for Azriel. He regretted skipping out on the week before, eager for another glimpse at Aurora. 

He hadn’t risked spying on her in town, his shadows gave him away too easily. 

Azriel enters the training ring early to get in some extra practise before the rest of the group arrives. Exercise always helps him ease his anxiety so he promptly pulls out the punching bag and gets to work. 

————

Aurora

You had asked Feyre to bring you to the House a bit earlier today. You wanted to arrive before everyone else. 

You’re surprised to see Azriel already in the ring, his back to you as he throws punches at a bag. So engrossed watching his wings flaring and the muscles in his back rippling, you don’t notice Feyre had already departed - leaving you alone with the shadowsinger. 

Your attention is captured by a shadow dancing over to you. It looks like it wants to play, so you conjure up a small ball of light and float it around. The shadow stalks the light like a cat, causing you to giggle. 

The sound of your laugh catches Azriel’s attention, your eyes meet and you see amusement flicker across them. 

“They like you.” Your heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice. 

You move your light ball again, slightly faster causing the shadow to chase after it. “I like them, they are cute.”

The corners of Azriel’s lips curl into a small smile. “How did you do that?” He asks softly.

“The light? I don’t know, I’ve always been able to. The magic comes from my Mother’s side. It’s not really much more than a good party trick though.” You make the light float over between you both before you wave your hand and make it disappear.

“Interesting,” Azriel hesitates before asking, “Where is your mother now?”

“She passed away years ago.”

Azriel’s eyes widen in shock. “Oh fuck, Aurora. I’m sorry.” 

Before you can reassure him, you’re interrupted by a boisterous Cassian. “Ready to go hard today, Aurora?” 

You roll your eyes in response, turning to greet the Illyrian. You can’t hold back your snort when you see his outfit. 

“Oh my stars, what are you wearing?” 

Cassian had swapped out his usual training leathers for a plain singlet and extremely fitted pants that show off every inch of him.

“I couldn’t let you have any advantage today. The lady in the shop said these would be easier to move in. You know, so I can get into all the deep positions.”

Nesta scoffs, “Tell the truth. You wanted to distract Aurora so you had more of a chance of beating her.”

“I will not admit to such an outrageous lie.” Cassian’s mischievous smile said otherwise. 

Shaking your head, you avert your eyes and move to the front of the group, you know you’re in for a long morning. 

Part Four

#azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fanfic #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #azriel x oc #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #acomaf #acowar #acotar #acosf #cassian #rhysand #nessian

[bookofmirth]

Sh anon once again. If it’s not already taken, I’ll go by 🦄 anon. You already know my account, but I’m still a little shy.

So, my thoughts on why I think Gwyn interacting with Mor and Rhys will be important. Something I’ve noticed is that Feyre & Cassian were neglected as children while Nesta & Azriel were abused as children. They share similarities and are close friends. Feyre is mated to Rhys and Nesta is mated to Cassian. I believe that Gwyn is Azriel’s mate and she will become friends with Rhys.

Gwyn and Rhys share similarities. Both won the Blood Rite, both had to be carried (which I’ve seen people shame Gwyn for) by their friend, both are Carynthian warriors. Rhys is a half breed and Gwyn is a quarter nymph and not “pure” High-Fae. And this one is more of a headcanon, but I think both of them are somewhat nerds given the researching for other worlds. (I could see them having a book club of sorts or like a science convention kinda thing. Fan-girling over each other’s theories and the thing Rhys built.) Even their trauma is similar. Both of their sisters were decapitated and saw the traumatic remains. And both of them are survivors of assault. (I was surprised by how much they have in common.)

I think Gwyn will be acquaintances with Mor, or at least somewhat friendly, since I believe Mor will help train the Valkyries and could be a love interest for Emerie. I think Cassian + Azriel + Mor will become a trio in ACOTAR5, which is something that really intrigues me. I would love to see this. Az is so fixated on three brothers + three sisters, but I think the real trio is him, Cass and Mor. I think (and hope) that Azriel & Mor will sit down, fully discuss everything, and have a good friendship again. I think this could happen towards the end of the first part of Az’s book and what will start a slow healing process for him; when he accepts it. But I don’t think Mor should be blamed or responsible, which I could see some people do. It’s not her fault and she doesn’t owe him anything in my opinion. I think deep down he knows (or has an inkling) that she’s queer. He goes after women he knows he can’t have to avoid getting hurt.

This link https://www.tumblr.com/azrielsbaby/650618221310984192/gentle-reminder-that-az-only-lets-rhys-see-the is one of the reasons why I believe we will see Gwyn interact with Rhys and Mor. As the OP said, “Az only lets Rhys see the full extent of his cold rage and darkness because only Rhys can match that same level of rage and darkness. Which means that Az feels the most comfortable to express his true self with Rhys without the fear of Rhys being scared or repulsed by him.”

And then this with Mor, “Mor was the only one to be able to console Az out of his dark emotions. Which means Az is the most comfortable with Mor when he's at his most vulnerable without the fear of her using that to hurt him or feel weak around her. Rhys and Mor are the two people Az is the most comfortable to be vulnerable in two different aspects. And it warms my heart to think about when Az finally meets his mate and Rhys and Mor will completely love her because she'll love their friend wholly, for every part of him - just as they have and always will.”

When Gwyn was assaulted, she saw Azriel’s rage and darkness. She saw him slaughter those men without hesitation. And Azriel saw Gwyn at a very traumatic and vulnerable moment in her life, but he doesn’t see her as a victim. Doesn’t treat her any different. He sees the warrior in her. He does treat her differently in comparison to how he treats Mor and Elain. I know Elain hasn’t seen that rage and darkness and I don’t know if Mor has seen it to that extent.

I feel like when Azriel does develop healthy, romantic feelings for Gwyn and when the mating bond snaps, Rhys & Mor will be happy to see that Az has someone that loves him wholly. Gwyn and Mor are similar to each other, or at least to me. I think Az needs someone that’s a little like Mor, but doesn’t have to walk on eggshells around him. I understand why she does. It’s not her fault. I want Mor to tease Azriel and encourage him with Gwyn, have lunches together, and just hangout and talk. I want their friendship to be like it was in ACOMAF. (ps, I wasn’t in the fandom then. I joined the fandom very late.) I’ve seen some theories where people think Rhys either knows or suspects that Gwyn is his mate. I don’t know if it’s true, but I just wanted to add that.

I hope their friendship/relationship is healthy and respectful. It isn’t Gwyn’s job to fix Azriel. Help him and offer support? Sure, but I don’t want him to become reliant on her. Does that make sense? If Gwyn and Azriel do end up together, I think it won’t happen until the middle of the book or towards the end. Which I’m fine with as long as he gets his shit together.

I feel like this was all over the place, but I had a lot to say! I’m sorry for the long post!💜 I might have more thoughts to add on for later, but my mind is a little jumbled right now!😂

ps, on what you said: “My thoughts re: acotar5 are that it starts just before Bryce lands in Prythian, following Azriel's perspective.”

I could definitely see Azriel’s book starting off like this. It makes sense. Especially since it was switched from nine months to instead three months.

(I am tagging op just so they know their post was mentioned) @azrielsbaby :)

When you list it out like that, yeah, Rhys and Gwyn have a TON in common. So much. And in acosf when Rhys tells Nesta to be nice to Gwyn, it was kind-of interesting that he singled Gwyn out, when he knows that Nesta is around all the priestesses. (It actually annoyed me when he did that because he is constantly up Nesta's ass, but that is beside the point. It's still interesting that he made a point to be protective of Gwyn.)

I just finished rereading acosf and Nesta teases Gwyn about memorizing things even if it wasn't her job. So I totally see the interest in the history of their world being a common interest between Gwyn and Rhys, not just because of the immediate plot needs, but Gwyn at least seems to enjoy that type of work.

I think Cassian + Azriel + Mor will become a trio in ACOTAR5, which is something that really intrigues me.

I am so interested in this because they seemed so tightly-knit in acomaf and then her rearranging of the plot to accommodate the following books really blew holes in their relationships. I miss the acomaf-era IC so much. I have had that thought as well, that the trio is actually Mor/Cassian/Az, because those three are on more equal footing with one another than they are with Rhys. Rhys will always be the High Lord, the one with all the power, the one they defer to. Cassian, Az, and Mor consider each other siblings, after all.

I just really want their dynamic specifically to be addressed, because I am so, so tired of reading homophobic and misogynistic takes from the fandom about what Mor owes Azriel, while they also try to claim feminism by saying Elain doesn't owe Lucien. Which the fuck is it??? Anyway, that's another side rant of mine haha. I want people to stop saying the Mor is leading Az on because she's literally just existing and he reads into it. And I want people to stop thinking Cassian was in love with Mor when you can clearly see in acosf that he thinks so, so highly of her but has no regrets as far as them never becoming romantic.

I think your connection between Az, Gwyn, and Mor is intriguing. There are definitely plot things connecting them, with the Valkyries and Illyrians training, Az needing to resolve his feelings towards Mor, and Mor working with the Valkyries (and probably starting something with Emerie). I think Mor could probably have some words of wisdom for Gwyn about how to proceed.

Perhaps Mor is the person who can recognize Azriel's feelings for what they are. She has been on the receiving end of his feelings for centuries, has seen how it impacts him, and I think she would recognize the difference in how he acts around Gwyn, compared to how he has acted around Mor and Elain.

I know I keep making jokes about how Az doesn't recognize that he has a mating bond and thinks it's indigestion, and so... maybe he needs to hear it from someone else. Not necessarily Gwyn, but from someone who knows him better than almost anyone else, and who knows what it looks like when he has developed an unhealthy attachment. I think that right now, Azriel is too jealous of Cassian and Rhys to hear it from either of them. But I think that Mor has experienced a different side of Az and so her insight would be more meaningful.

I prefer Mor and Az having this kind of conversation that focuses on someone else, that helps him move on without forcing Mor to disclose information about herself that she isn't ready to yet.

I also think he knows she is queer, and if he doesn't then I swear to the Cauldron, Sarah. The rant posts will be endless.

🦄 anon, I think we might be on to something!

#🦄 anon #acotar #long post tag #ask

[fimproda]

@cassianappreciationweek

Day Two: Gentle ⚔︎ When it comes to those he cares about, we all know Cassian has a big heart (and big hands). How do you think he shows his gentle nature to those around him?

I'll be surprised if I end up being the only one to say cleaning and cooking.

To be honest, maybe I'm projecting a bit: my dad spent a year in the military, back when men got drafted at 18 if they couldn't prove they were either still studying or already working, and then transferred to the Carabinieri police force (we're Italians) in which he's been serving the country for more than 30 years. And I swear, the military discipline, organization skills, and attention to detail he uses when cleaning and cooking are just out of this world.

(He taught me his ways, and on the rare occasion when mom is home and wants to clean—she works more hours than dad does—we're always annoyed with her methods, as they don't align with ours. We eyeroll at each other, it's fun.)

I know Cassian didn't have the same upbringing as my dad, but I can't help but draw some parallels between them, and picture Cassian as the kind of guy who dutifully makes his bed in the morning and makes it look like he's ironed the sheets because there's not a single crease.

Also, Cassian can canonically cook, and I'm hot for men who can provide for themselves.

I know that, in canon, he reaches out his hand to both Feyre and Nesta (and Gwyn, and Emerie, and the priestesses, and literally everyone) by offering to train them, but I can also see him doing the dishes after a dinner at a friend's house or cooking a takeout meal so his loved ones can have something warm to eat at work. I wrote a lil' piece about him stress-cleaning for shits and giggles (and because I thought I needed to add some filler words to a chapter which eventually ended up being 11k words long, but in my defense, I just had to slander Madja's medical malpractice), and now I can't chase that image out of my head...

(Nesta would totally dress him in a sexy maid outfit and have him parade around the house half-naked. Tell me she wouldn't.)

I'm never gonna stop saying that he's the most emotionally mature and emotionally intelligent male character in ACoTaR (or character in general, with no distinction of gender), and I'm tired of people labeling him as a big ol' stupid oaf, as one-dimensional, as comic relief, as undeserving of Nesta, as subjected to Rhysand's every whim as though he didn't have a brain, or all the other BS I've heard or read about him even in this appreciation week.

Cassian should be appreciated year-round.

End of rant.

#cassianappreciationweek2023 #nessian #cassian acotar #nesta x cassian #nesta acotar #nesta archeron #nessian fanfiction #read on ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #ao3 #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #my writing #sarah j maas #sarah j. maas #sjm #sjmaas #acotar #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a03 fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

[gwyns]

E/riel’s acting like Rhys didn’t also have to be carried up that mountain too. And I love Elain, but let’s be honest, how would she do in the Blood Rite? I find it funny how people say the Valkyries winning the Rite is unrealistic, but Feyre (I love her too this isn’t hate) killed a giant worm with bones while she was still human and scrawny. The Valkyries, imo, won because they worked together while the men choose the Rite to try and kill each other. Gwyn (& Emerie) earned the title of Carynthian. And Nesta rightfully earned her title and if she didn’t have to hold the line, she could’ve become a Carynthian also. Gwyn was ready to die with and for her friends. Idk if Cassian & Azriel know that, but I think they would actually be moved by that. Idk if they also know about Gwyn spying on the beast and leading it to the Illyrians, but I think they would be impressed. I hope we get a scene or something like that in Az’s book where he’s impressed, so it’ll shut up certain people. E/riel’s really acting like Gwyn didn’t do anything significant during the Rite. Lmao.

the "it's unrealistic!!!" argument is so stupid to me because like... these are fairies with magical powers that are, in part, sustained by annual orgies. if you're going into a fantasy series looking exclusively for realism then you need a new hobby lol

you're so right! they helped each other. the rite showed us how far they'd come and honestly, each had an advantage in my opinion. nesta had her rage to guide her, emerie had her clipped wings, normally seen as a weakness but here it was perfect since the men weren't used to not having them and gwyn was shown to be a capable spy. none of them would have survived alone but they succeeded because they had each other to rely on, while the illyrians strictly kept to themselves. their strength was in their friendship, much like rhys, cass and az when they did the rite. it was a direct parallel, i thought that was pretty obvious lol?? it's really not hard to understand

besides the girls trained for months, it's not like they had zero experience in this area? it was their first true test, yes, but what does that matter here? the rite in acosf was one of the best things sjm has ever written. if all you're doing is scrutinizing it for some kind of gotcha then you're missing the whole point

#cant believe they love tearing down a group of women and what they accomplished all for a MAN and then say we're the woman haters lol #antielriel #anti e/riel #asks #anonymous

[lily-thesuriel]

Some Thoughts post ACOSF and pre HOFAS

I have just finished my re-reading of the Acotar saga and I come to make a "brainstorming" of data and ideas that I want to put down in writing before HOFAS

there is a lot of repetition of the dates "more than 10000 years ago" and especially in Acosf "since 15000 years ago" I suppose that they will be to match the dates of the world of Acotar with the world of CC, although there are certain things that do not fit at the moment.

There are several data that change from ACOWAR to ACOSF , why ? Because I believe that they will be relevant in the future, these data are (that I have seen) 1 that in ACOWAR Lucien does not arrive until the lake of koschei but in ACOSF it is said that yes he has arrived / 2 the recap of what happened in Sangravah / 3 the subject of Illyria and the difference between the teaser of ACOFAS and the first chapter of ACOSF

to this day I still don't understand Rhys's "you-always-have-a-choice" behavior in ACOSF, sorry I don't

The secret winged baby and Renesme 2.0 plot continues to be horrible.

I do not understand how people do not shipe Vassa and Jurian, simply with the phrase "do not call her queen that goes to her head" (not the literal phrase, I'm writing from memory do not eat me) I'm already sold, I can understand the ship of Jurian-Vassa-Lucien, I do not share it but I understand it but leave out the banter that has Vassa with Jurian? No,sorry

I don't want Rhys as High king, and I don't know why I think that because of the decline of Tamlin that it will happen.

Bryaxis hello ??? Where is he? He appeared in ACOFAS and then was never heard from again , and who or what was he before he was Bryaxis ???? Fionn??

I need to know the full story of Eris, I need to know what she hides, right now you tell me that ACOTAR5 is from her POV and I'll be happy to read it (very unlikely I know).

Why the carved beasts of hewn city are the same as the "beast form " of Rhys and at the same time are the same as the Hounds of the Great Hunt ?? And why is no one talking about this? I need answers

Narben, where are you ??? (maybe it is Danikq's sword ???)

Nesta can still use the 3 trove ???? Yes ? No? Will Elain use them ? Will Bryce use them ?(I think so ) what will happen when the 4 troves are united ????

The shipons and invoke stones work with firstlight, that "pure" and raw magic that the Illyrian have is actually firstlight, are they a failed experiment of the Daglan/Asteri ? Yes

Daglan= Asteri

Enalius died in a battle against the Daglan trying to protect Ramiel's black stone (or monolith), what is that???? Whyyy?

Ramiel is hollow (and has the Daglan palace??)

Touching Ramiel's stone when winning the great rite heals all the wounds of the one who touches it, Emerie's wings are healed ???? Will she fly again? I hope she will be healed (by Ramiel stome or by Thesan) because she said she was in pain from time to time.

The only thing this fandom agrees on is that Mor and Emerie are going to end up together and they haven't even spoken to each other (that we have seen) just because Emerie called Mor beautiful.

Controversial topic, I understand partly the Elriels. Does Azriel like Elain? Yes, in Acosf that is clear, in Acofas it is intuited although he still likes Mor. Does Elain like Azriel ? Yes, she does. Now I think they will end up together ? No. Why? Because of the scene in Acosf where Az says that the troves have a darkness that Elain shouldn't get close to and Cas responds but Nesta should ? (Not literal phrases, I'm writing without looking at the book ) sorry but what I like about the Maas guys is that they give you options, do you want to do something dangerous ? I don't really like it but if you do I support and help you , the ultimate example of this is Rhys. If you take away that possibility of choice for me that couple loses all appeal (that's why I haven't put up with Rhys half of Acosf) now well if the book ends up being Elriel ?(Which I don't think so and as of today I don't want to ) congrats to them, sure Mass makes me fall in love with their story too. (But at the level of the overall plot if what was said in 2021 is maintained, that the two remaining books of acotar were to be narrated each by a couple, it makes no sense that acotar5 is Elriel because then the trilogy closing ? Whose is it? Lucien's and Vassa's ? And you spend the last book (confirmed for the moment) without any POV of the IC, sorry but it does not attract me at all)

Elain, I really want Elain Book i need her Pov, I still think that Elain is going to end up with his mate ? Yes, that Elain doesn't want anything to do with Lucien ? Yes too. Why do I think they will end up together ( and that their story will be a sort of marriage of convenience / force proximity ) because when Cassian reveals his mate bond to Nesta, Nesta resents the word Mate because it would mean giving up the last of her humanity, Nesta. Now imagine the trauma of Elain who not only didn't want to be Fae but was also engaged and the first thing she learns is that she has become FAE (and therefore goodbye to her life as a human ) and that she has mate (which takes her away from her engagement ). To me Elain doesn't reject Lucien because of her persona, but because Lucien means accepting 100% that she is FAE and I think that's something Elain has not yet done.

Maas highlights interactions where Gwyn and Az appear and does not highlight any interaction between Az and Emerie (compare the two scenes when they go to cut the ribbon) why does she do that ? Well, let everyone draw their own conclusions

ACOTAR 5 : Azriel +gwyn

ACOTAR 6: Elain + Lucien ( koschei dies here , in charge of killing him Elain and Vassa )

Characters that I think are going to die in this saga: 1 Helion (sorry I love you but you have all the ballots to die ) 2 Amrem and Varian, I explain myself, I think the IC is not going to survive whole again, I think Azriel and Cassian are not going to die, Mor has a story to tell (from what is sensed in Acofas and Acosf) and the novella I think will be hers, so the options to die are Feyre and Rhys (who could because they already have an heir, but Mass loves Rhys so I doubt it) and finally Amrem who I think is the one who will die (this time for real) and Varían will also die because separating lovers is very cruel.

Sorry for any mistakes english is not my first language

#acosf spoilers #acosf #gwynriel