#pretty coloring emery!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dawneternal · 1 month

Text

Just a Favor

✦ A Gwynriel first kiss one-shot (turned into multiple parts after requests for more)

✦ Inspired by a true story 🫣 when I started dating my wife in high school I had never been kissed before and she kept very politely asking if she could kiss me and I kept getting too nervous and saying no. That went on for like two months and then I finally told her to kiss me without asking or I'd keep saying no lol and she did. The end

✦ Word Count: 1.7k

✦ AO3 Link / Masterlist

"I have a favor to ask you," Gwyn's voice pulled Azriel from his thoughts.

She sat across from him at the kitchen table, half-eaten plates of lunch in front of them. The Valkyries had stayed for lunch after training, Gwyn lingering after Cassian had left to fly Emerie home. Nesta had excused herself to find a book for Gwyn, leaving the pair alone.

Azriel had not thought anything of this sequence of events, but now that he was looking at the Gwyn, head tilted to the side with an inquisitive gleam in her eye, he was finding it all suspicious.

"It's kind of an unconventional thing, so prepare yourself." Gwyn continued. He took note of her fingers fiddling with a buckle on her leathers.

"Okay," Azriel said slowly, resisting the urge to furrow his brows. Or maybe run away.

"Are you prepared?"

"Yes, I won't react."

"I want to be kissed."

True to his word, Azriel's face remained unchanged. Though his stomach had done a flip and his heartbeat thundered.

"Okay, you can react a little," Gwyn cried, indignant and incredulous.

"Are you asking me to kiss you?" Azriel surprised himself with his own calm tone.

"Either that, or help me find someone. Because I trust you to help me find someone who isn't an asshole." She had shrunk into herself a little, like her confidence had waned. Her gaze drifted down to her plate.

"Why me, though?" The corners of his mouth quirked up just a touch.

"Nesta hates everyone, Emerie only knows Illyrians and they hate Valkyries, Cassian is Cassian, and I'm not asking my High Lord or Lady to find someone to kiss me."

They were all fair arguments. He didn't bother asking why she wanted to be kissed so desperately. All of her actions pointed toward wanting to move on. He'd overheard the Valkyries several times encouraging Gwyn toward what they called 'the last step' - moving out of the library.

"I'll do it," Az said, cursing his voice for cracking. How could she unnerve him so?

She was just a woman. Except that a singular word could not fully capture what Gwyn was. Priestess, Valkyrie, Carynthian, she was something incredible. The most brightly colored thing in his life. Copper hair, turquoise eyes, white ribbons, auburn freckles.

Gwyn cheered and gave him a triumphant, toothy grin. He could not help smiling in return.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, unsure how to proceed.

"I just want you to kiss me like you would anyone you really liked," Gwyn was blushing, now. Eyes a little wild, like she hadn't expected to get this far.

"That doesn't really tell me what you want," Azriel protested.

He picked at a leftover sliver of sandwich to give his hands something to do. His shadows buzzed with energy, darting to far corners of the room and reporting back about the dust that lived there.

"Well...what was your first kiss like?" Gwyn asked. She smiled at one shadow that approached her outstretched hand like a shy kitten.

"Probably not what you'd want," Azriel flashed a sheepish grin, still embarrassed by the centuries-old memory, "It was pretty bad. This will be your first kiss?"

"Yes," Gwyn kept her gaze on the tendril of shadow weaving through her fingers. "I think maybe I don't want you to ask me first,"

"I always ask before I kiss someone, no matter how I feel about them."

"Well, the problem is that if you ask, I might chicken out and say no," She sighed, "So I may need you to just do it."

"Ah," Azriel grinned, "I see. You want me to make it a moment."

Before she could answer, he stood and crossed to her in a few strides, turning her chair to face him and bracing one hand on the back of it. Gwyn looked up at him, eyes wide, lips parted. He leaned in close, nose a few inches from hers. Somehow, her nervousness had cancelled his out and returned his confidence. At the very least, he knew he was capable of making her first kiss better than his had been.

"I have no qualms with a surprise, if that's what you want." He said, deep voice rumbling in his chest.

"Yes," Gwyn whispered, heart hammering in anticipation.

This close, she could count every freckle scattered over his bronze skin. There was a beauty mark she had never seen before right on the edge of his full bottom lip, and glimmers of gold in his amber eyes. She hoped desperately that he could not hear the catch of her breath.

Azriel stayed still for a moment, gaze fixed on hers, letting her wonder if this was the moment. A part of her hoped that it wasn't, just so she could feel this again, have another chance to memorize his features. To breathe his piney scent, feel his shadows caress her skin.

Perhaps she should have just asked him to help her find a stranger.

Azriel straightened, flashed an insufferable smirk, and walked out of the room. Gwyn heard his footsteps echo down the hall, leaving her alone in the silent kitchen. She felt as though a summer storm had just rolled through her world, dark and alluring and thrilling all at once.

Nesta, with her brilliant intuition, returned a moment later, squealing when she took in Gwyn's red cheeks.

A few nights later, after a family dinner at the River House, a little group set out to the far corner of the estate. There, a little branch of the Sidra curved through the meadow before pouring back into the sea. A small stone bridge crossed over it, leading to an ivy covered gazebo. Azriel, Cassian, Nesta, and Mor all set out to get a moment of fresh air and a glimpse of the moonlight dancing on the water.

Gwyn followed, giggling with the group at Mor's tipsy stumbling and Cassian's booming voice declaring that he could definitely skip a rock father than the rest of them. This, of course, illicited a challenge and they all began a search for perfect rocks. Gwyn was particularly skilled at skipping stones and giddy at the idea of surprising the group with her talent and wiping the smirk from Cassian's face.

But just as she stepped over the little stone bridge, a hand grasped her arm and whirled her around. She found herself in Azriel's arms, among the swaying grass and delicate flowers. They stood halfway down the bank of the stream, Azriel's boots braced against the slope, holding them upright. The mossy stone bridge hid them from sight, only the tops of their heads visible if the rest of the group bothered to look.

It took Gwyn a moment to register what had happened, to calm her heart and adjust to the feeling of the shadowsinger's arms wrapped around her waist. He smiled down at her, moonlight gleaming in his hazel eyes. This was the moment.

Azriel softly placed his hands on her face and pulled her in a little closer. He was silent, giving her long moments to stop him if she wished. But she tucked herself into him, hands resting on his chest, fingertips just brushing the skin above his collar. She blushed deep red, looking up at him through lowered lashes, though the glimmer in her eye was eager.

Azriel could not help but notice how perfectly she fit in his hold, like her face and his hands had once been a single block of marble, the curve between them cut with a single motion. Something about it so familiar, so deeply rooted it felt almost ancient. Sacred.

And Gwyn could not help the feeling that bloomed in her chest when he brought his lips to hers. Soft, sweet, reverant. His touch was warm, every place where they connected sent sparks through her body.

She knew, deep down, was no fleeting feeling. This was the feeling of something beginning. Perhaps this was a spectacularly stupid idea, after all, as she was certain that no other kiss would ever feel this way.

Azriel pulled away, thumb brushing over her cheek. The moment he met her eyes, he felt it. It was nothing like he thought it would be. Neither pain nor pleasure, something so unique there was only one thing that it could be. Gwyn glowed before him, her aura golden. So bright, the star his whole being now orbited.

He knew he looked like a fool. Gasping, chest heaving like her kiss had hurt him. And the concern on her face stung, because it meant she had not felt it, too.

"Azriel?" She whispered, her rose-tinted stupor fading. Azriel let go of her, hands dropping stiffly to his sides. His skin burned, already craving more of her touch.

"How do you feel?" He croaked, though he knew the answer. She did not feel as he did, no matter how much she had liked it.

"Are you okay?" She asked, instead of answering. Her hands still rested against his chest, and now her fingers curled around his shirt collar, holding tight. He looked like he was beginning to panic.

Azriel shook his head, wings spreading out with a snap. It was too much. The sorrow, the longing, the roaring joy. Subtle hints of her own emotions drifting down the newly forged bond.

Mind swirling, he placed a hand on his chest and stepped back. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Just staring at the dazzling girl before him, who had been so shy about being kissed. Surely she would not be happy about such an intense bond, not be ready. And she had asked him for a kiss because she cared so little for him. She had hoped for a kiss that would not matter. No, she would not want this.

He could only think of one word and it was likely the only thing he should not say. Instead of saying anything, he shot upwards into the sky, disappearing as a dark smudge in the night. A single streak of blue in the darkness.

Gwyn was left alone, hands hovering where he had been. Confused, concerned, and entirely unaware of the bond singing in Azriel's chest.

83 notes · View notes

skyjasper · 2 months

Text

Imagine Being Loved By Me

Gwynriel: Talk by Hozier

COMPLETELY INSPIRED BY @avabrynne !!!

This idea comes completely from @avabrynne !! Great thanks to her for letting me use this prompt!!!

Masterlist

Summary: Gwyn and Azriel had been tiptoeing around her connection for almost a year now. The night before summer solstice the group goes out to Rita’s. Things finally snap for them when Azriel sings her a song.

Warnings: light NSFW, other than that nothing!! Complete fluff!!

Word count:3270

~~~

It was the week of summer solstice which meant the glorious city of Velaris was bustling with parties and celebrations. Gwyn had been comfortable enough to start going out with her girls and the inner circle by last winter solstice after Nesta and Cassian got together.

So here she sat in Nesta's room getting ready with Mor, Emerie, Nesta, and Feyre. She sat on the bed watching as Nesta moved her hair into a lovely ponytail. Nesta's eyes met hers through the mirror.

“Come on Gwyn, let's find you a dress, Mor can you do her makeup?” She turned to the blonde and waited for a nod before walking off to her wardrobe. Gwyn moved into the stool that sat in front of Nesta's vanity, staring at Mor evaluating her.

“Let’s make you irresistible, maybe you’ll find a lovely suitor.” Mor’s brows wiggled with intention as Gwyn’s cheeks flushed.

She didn’t tell anyone about her small crush on the court's shadow singer, nor did she tell anyone about their midnight training sessions. She nodded her head to Mor with a smile.

“Oh, I haven’t even thought about that. Where are we even going tonight?” She asked as Mor applied a Smokey line of Khol to her eyes.

“Rita’s is having a live singing night tonight so we are going to go and force the boys to sing,” Feyre spoke from her spot next to Gwyn.

“All the boys?” She poked her head to look at Feyre before Mor grabbed her chin to guide her back to where she needed.

“That’s the goal!” Feyre's happy voice chipped.

“I found the perfect dress!” Nesta shouted before coming out of her closet with a mid-length silk dress that was the same shade of blue as her priestess robes. A gorgeous number that had Gwyn melting at the idea of wearing such a delicate piece on her body.

“That’s gorgeous Nes, I can’t possibly take that from you.” She whispered as if her voice would hurt the dress.

“Gwyn, I don’t even know why I have this dress, it certainly is not my color.” Nesta shrugged before moving to place the dress over a chair.

“Hey, Gwyn?” Emorie came to sit next to the nymph.

“Yes Em?”

“You remember when we went and you bought those lacy underthings even though you knew you weren’t gonna wear them?” She whispered only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

“Yes, I got them because they gave me power over myself, even though I have no reason to wear them they make me feel pretty,” Gwyn responded, currently applying a reddish-pinkish colored lip salve.

“Well… they would be perfect to wear under this dress.” Emorie shrugged. Gwyn paused, contemplating it, after a hesitant moment she nodded and stood to ask the house to retrieve them.

Once she was in the bathroom with the dress and her underthings she quickly changed. She pulled on the light blue lacy underthings before slipping on the matching slip for it. She took a second to observe herself in the mirror, reminding herself of her affirmations. I am the rock against which the surf crashes. Nothing can break me.

She pulled on the tight piece of silk, marveling at how it hugged her form to her waist before slightly tapering out into a lovely flowing skirt. The neckline was something she hadn’t seen before, the fabric was rippled in a purposeful way to look like loose silk when in fact it was not. It gave her a sight of her cleavage, her breasts were not large but they were at least a handful. The skirt had a dangerously high slight that came to rest at mid-thigh. As she laced the back her waist became more accentuated.

Gwyn took a second to take in the sight of herself and how beautiful she looked. The light blue- almost iridescent- silk showed off her slight tan from training and her vibrant hair. Even her freckles seemed more prominent.

“You ok in there Gwyn?” Nesta's voice asked, laden with concern from the other side of the door. Gwyn walked over to the door and opened it.

“Yeah, I’m ok. Are you sure this dress isn’t too much for tonight?” Gwyn asked shyly.

“No this is perfect! You look gorgeous Gwyn! Let’s do your hair.” Came Feyres voice from behind Nesta who was still staring at Gwyn with her jaw open.

“You look absolutely stunning Gwinnie. I know a certain male who is going to explode when he sees you.” Nesta told her while pulling her back to the vanity.

Gwyn took a second to mull over Nesta's words as one of the girls put two thin braids in her hair at the front before pulling it up into a ponytail, one braid running on each side.

“Who do you mean Nes?” Gwyn finally found the courage to ask, hoping she doesn’t sound as hopeful as she is.

“Oh come on Gwyn, we all know the shadow singer holds a certain appreciation for you, we see the way he looks at you. And those midnight training sessions, he’s never done that with anyone.” Mor spoke from behind her as she applied perfume oils to her skin.

“Wh-what, I don’t know what you are on about. Az and I are certainly just friends.” Gwyn blushed at the implication.

“If that’s what you think.” Emorie chuckled.

~~~

More and Feyre winnowed all of them to Rita’s. The girls ordered a round of drinks while waiting for the males. Not five seconds after their drinks were in hand did they hear the unmistakable sound of Cassian’s laugh.

They all turned towards the sound, finding Rhys dressed in his normal dress pants and a button-down, Cassain in typical pants and a loose top. Gwen slightly choked on her drink when her gaze ran across Azriel, he was hardly ever seen outside of his leathers, but tonight he wore black tight jeans and a black shirt that hugged his muscles, his wings standing proud and his black hair a bit messy. He looked more than edible, and when his gaze found Gwyn staring her cheeks blushed.

Azriel was the first to move towards them, his head dipping in acknowledgment to the girls before his eyes raked over Gwyn's form. His gaze moved down her body slowly, taking in each and every element of the gorgeous nymph. Azriel had always been attracted to Gwyneth and not just her beautiful looks but her intelligence as well. She was the only one who matched him, who challenged him in all ways, intellectually, in the ring, and all other aspects. Gwyn never failed to turn every interaction into a game.

When he finally came face to face with Gwyn he could only think of one thing to say.

“You look absolutely stunning, Gwyneth.”

A blush quickly rose on her already pink cheeks, her entire neck now heating at his compliment.

“You as well Shadow singer. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside of your leathers.” She smiled at him, not noticing her friends staring at the two of them. Azriels eyes slightly widened at her words, taking them in a different way.

“Not like that Az!” Gwyn laughed out. “I just meant you are always wearing your leathers, I’ve never seen you in casual clothing. It looks good.” She explained herself as the left side of his lips twitched.

“I understand Berdara.” He shook his head. He leaned over Gwen’s small form to get the bartender’s attention.

Gwen’s eyes stuck to his chest and his very prominent pecs. She turned her head to the girls before sliding out from under the shadow singer, reaching out and hugging Cassian.

“Gwinnie.” He shouted before patting her head.

“Cass.” She laughed, “Have you already had some drinks?”

“Oh absolutely, Rhys and I finished a good bit of scotch, Azzie insisted on being sober until we got here.” He continued before moving over to his wife and mate, whispering something in her ear that made her blush.

Gwyn said her hellos to the high lord before they all moved to find a booth tucked away somewhere. They all moved in, Feyre and Rhys on the innermost part, on their right were Nesta and Cassian, and on their left were Emorie and Mor, which left Gwyn and Az to sit together. He stood to the side waiting for her to slide into the booth.

She felt his gaze on her back, by now she had already finished her first drink and was feeling the effects of it. Her skin flushed with the heat of the alcohol, her grace already a bit more clumsy. Gwyneth Berdara was and always had been a lightweight.

Azriel slid in next to her, his thigh meeting hers. His shadows slid over her legs and up one of her arms, curling themselves around her as they always do in her presence. Her light giggle hit him hard. He turned his head to find her playing with the shadows as they moved all over her arms.

“Ok, shall we kick this night off with some singing?!” Mor clapped from her seat, startling Gwyn.

“Who’s first?” Feyre asked, looking around the table.

“Gwyn should go first. I’d kill to hear your voice again.” Azriel muttered the last part only loud enough for her to hear.

“Oh no, I’m already tipsy. I don't think it’d be that good.” She chuckled nervously, silently praying to the mother it wouldn’t have to be her.

“I’ll save you Gwinnie, I’ll go first. Don’t fret you’re next Gwinnie.” Cassian rumbled, trying and almost failing to stand and get out of the booth.

Cass semi-stumbled his way to the stage, asking for the projecting device and introducing himself. Rita’s erupted in cheers as Cassian started to sing a newer song about senseless love and nonsense. Something that Bryce chick had taught him.

“Gwyneth…” Azriel drew in a whisper, “Why wouldn’t you sing? You have a beautiful voice.”

“I am not nearly drunk enough to sing in front of all of these people. Maybe later tonight.” She shrugged in response, turning her head towards the shadow singer, not realizing how close he was.

“Speaking of, would you be a doll and go get me a new drink Azzie.” She mocked Cassian’s use of the nickname.

He chuckled and nodded before slipping out of the booth, walking with his head high through the crowd, power radiating off his body. When she turned back into the booth she saw Nesta and Feyre staring at her.

“What?”

“What?!” Feyre mocked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Azriel give this many smiles in public before.” She said, sipping on her drink.

“Oh hush, he’s just comfortable because he’s around his family.” Gwyn lied smoothly. “Plus maybe it’s just because I’m that funny” She mockingly flipped her ponytail, freezing when she felt it his something, or someone.

She turned and saw Az standing there with two drinks and a raised eyebrow looking down at her. Azriel had always towered over Gwyn but with her sitting in the low booth and him standing she was face to face with his stomach. She winced before scooting over to let him in.

“Hush.” She muttered before taking her drink out of his hand and chugging it.

“At this rate, you’ll be drunker than Cassian in no time,” Emorie spoke from her side of the table.

“Maybe I need to be so you all will be somewhat tolerable.” She replied with a thick layer of sass. Rhysand let out a deep chuckle, turning back to Feyre as they engaged in a silent conversation.

She felt a large hand run over the length of her ponytail, toying with the ends. She turned to look at the shadow singer as he stared at her.

“Can I help you?” Her eyebrow hiked up as his hand glided over the back of her neck, resting there as if it were normal.

“If I sing will you?” His deep voice asked, sending shivers through Gwen’s body.

She was speechless, Azriel had only ever sung for her once, granted his voice was beautiful, but he had said he doesn’t often do it in front of people.

“I suppose that is a fair deal. But first, since Cassian is finally done torturing the crowd with his voice let’s dance!” She clapped, standing quickly and swaying from the rush. Azriel’s scarred hands found themselves on her waist to help stabilize her. She smiled down at him before forcing everyone else to dance.

The song was something upbeat and fun, after Bryce had left to fight her war she came back with a gift, the swords, and these things called speakers that connected to one of her phones, she had also given them a large amount of batteries so it would last them while they studied the devices to replicate them. It made them all quite happy to have a new form of music, though some people were skeptical.

Gwyn grabbed Azriel’s hand and dragged him to the area of people dancing. She was a giggling, bubbly mess, and the shadow singer loved it. He had never seen her so unrestrained, save for their conversations while no one was around. Azriel cherished those conversations, he replayed them constantly in his hand, his heart fluttering at the memory of her bright smiles and sassy jokes.

With all regard abandoned Gwyneth danced, moving her body in a way that wasn’t meant to be sensual, but to the intoxicated shadow singer, was so enchanting. His shadows whispered to him about holding her ponytail around his fist as he thrust into her from behind, or about sliding the top of her dress down and watching her beautiful breast bounce. He quickly shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts and mask his scent. He didn’t used to have fantasies about Gwyn, but recently most of his nights are spent in a cold bath.

Azriel did not dance, he stood there like a guard to Gwyn, and when she noticed she stopped dancing. She moved her way to Azriel, wrapping her arms around her neck to raise herself to his ear.

“Why aren’t you dancing Azriel?” Her sultry voice spoke into his ear. Azriel stifled a groan at the sound of his name out of her mouth.

“I don’t dance, you know that Gwyneth.” He responded, placing his hands back on her hips to keep her steady.

“But Az…” she whined, dragging out the Z in his name, sending truly impure thoughts into his filthy brain.

“Gwyneth.” He spoke curtly with a voice so low she thought she might be imagining it.

He placed her on the floor before looking up, trying to regain his composure and restraint. He let go of her before walking up to the stage. He looked back at Gwyn and watched as her eyes widened as he took the amplifier.

He waited for the crowd to calm down before starting without any music.

I'd be the voice that urged Orpheus

When her body was found,

Gwyn stared at him as his beautiful voice started to sing a song she hadn’t heard before.

I'd be the choiceless hope in grief

That drove him underground,

Gwyn felt Nesta slide next to her, also completely enamored by Azriel's voice.

I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee

That made him turn around,

“How did you convince him to sing?” She whispered, barely audible, so as to not disturb the delicate song.

And I'd be the immediate forgiveness

In Eurydice.

“I didn’t.” She responded, making eye contact with Nesta as he sang the next line.

Imagine being loved by me!

Gwyn felt something pool inside of her stomach. She had spent many late nights in the bathing chambers, pleasuring herself to the thought of the shadow singer.

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things we'd do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you

Not once did Azriels gaze stray from Gwyn, not as he watched every emotion fly across her face, or as the heat rose in her cheeks at the implication of the words he sang.

He moved on to the next line as Gwyn stood there staring back at him. Suddenly, as he reached the end of the last verse, everyone else disappeared. It was just her and him as he wholeheartedly sang the words.

I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do

So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you

Azriel watched as realization flicked upon Gwyn's eyes. Her chest and neck started to flush the same color as her cheeks. The same flush he had imagined in his mind as he stared up at her from between her legs.

Gwyn's eyes flicked back over Azriels form as she realized he was single-handedly singing to her. Heat raked through her as she recalled the lyrics.

“I’ll be back Nesta.” She whispered breathlessly, turning and walking quickly to the back hall where there was an exit into the alleyway.

She rested her head against the brick wall, her heart beating wildly and her breath completely gone. She closed her eyes as she ran back through all of their interactions, screaming at herself for being so naive and blind.

She opened her eyes as she heard the door she came through open and close. Azriel was standing there, something like fear on his face as he waited for her response. All Gwyn could think to do was to walk up to him and kiss him.

Her arms flew around his neck as their kiss became hungry and passionate. Gwyn's hands found one of her thighs, pulling one leg up to his hip as he walked them so her back was against the wall. He broke the kiss, staring at her.

“Gwyneth.” He whispered.

“Azriel.” She whispered back, her lips ghosting against his. This time it was him smashing his lips to her, pushing her against the wall as one of his hands tangled itself in her ponytail.

“Wait. Gwyn, are you sure? Are you sure you want this? Us? I know I’m not the most honorable male, and I definitely don’t have a clean past.” He asked her.

“Azriel. I have wanted this since I cut that ribbon, I have wanted you since we started our training sessions and I found out just how beautiful your soul is. I don’t give a crap about your past, mine is definitely not clean. And those hands that you despise so much are the same hands that saved me, the same hands that taught me how to defend myself and reclaim my power, and hopefully the same hands that will make me cum.” She stared up at him as his hands flexed against her skin.

“Thank fucking gods, we can have a more meaningful conversation later, right now I just need to kiss you. Is that ok?” Before his sentence was fully out of his mouth Gwyn was nodding.

Azriel continued their kiss, pulling her leg tighter around his hips. The hand that was in her hair came down to her other thigh and tapped at it, signaling for her to jump. They were both breathless as they broke the kiss.

“Thank you, Gwyn.” He whispered, staring into her beautiful blue eyes.

“For what?”

“For showing me that I’m not ruined.” He smiled at her, a wide bright smile that carried across his whole face.

That damned dress.

~~~~

Note: I think this concept was so cute!!! I love writing Gwyriel!! Don’t worry I didn’t forget about the fics I promised!! They are coming, this was just my contribution to Gwynriel weeks!!

@gwynrielweeksofficial (their first kiss!!))

Taglist:

@littlelunatica @going-through-shit @annaaaaa88 @i-am-infinite @impossibelle

76 notes · View notes

aestariiwilderness · 2 months

Text

Thoughts:

Omega must be the only child to ever be kidnapped and quasi-experimented on in a secret lab by an evil fascist regime to emerge no worse for wear like six months later WITH A PET (that isn't Crosshair)

The Batch, patiently searching an entire sector of space: Omega must be here somewhere Omega and Crosshair, zooming by: hey I wonder where our fam is

That had to be the most anxiety-producing visit from the Emperor for the least actual consequence I have ever seen. The man wandered in, took a look, patted Hemlock on the back, took the time to gently warn this bouncy evil scientist that "my dude, I know you and I love what you're doing here. And I know you want to post it on Spacebook. I totally get it! But uh. Just a heads up -- most people will think your work is an abomination, TBH, so I'm gonna need you to keep it quiet. Kay? K. Thanks. See you bro, let me know when you need to evacuate an entire base again, I'll foot the bill" and left.

Everyone is sleeping on the fact that Palpatine and Hemlock's relationship (such as it is) is weirdly adorable and honestly. Hemlock, my dude. He really took to heart the whole "if you love your job you'll never work a day in your life". Man is living his dreams

Yeah fine Emerie gave her a doll back. I still don't like you

Why does no one (looking at you Saw) ever just...shoot the Emperor's shuttle down.

Would have been hysterical if Omega and Crosshair just nicked the Emperor's shuttle.

Palpatine: this project must adhere to the utmost secrecy. No one must know. No one must ever leave. *Omega and Crosshair tiptoeing past in the background*

*Palpatine's shuttle lifts off ground* Clone commando: uh sir. Those, uh, pretty important prisoners have escaped. Hemlock:... Hemlock: bless you for waiting to say that till after my boss left

Hunter still sucks at technology.

It's been like half a year and they still haven't bothered to check the recordings of Tech's goggles. Color me unsurprised.

Also unsurprised: we dropped the brain cell on Eriadu. it hasn't grown back yet

FOUND THE CLONE CADETS!

Phee and Shep, back on Pabu: HUNTER WE'RE NOT YOUR CLONE CHILD PANTRY STOP DROPPING OFF ALL YOUR SPACE ORPHANS HERE. WE TOLD THEM TO PLAY AND THEY HAD UPPER AND LOWER PABU IN THE THROES OF A CIVIL WAR BY LUNCHTIME. HOW WERE YOU GUYS THE WELL-ADJUSTED CHILD SOLDIERS???

Maybe-Eh-Possibly Imperial Tech, watching the shuttle zip off without him: YOU TOOK THE DOG??

#the bad batch #bad batch season 3 #spoilers #star wars

109 notes · View notes

the-valkyries-gwyn-nesta-emerie · 18 days

Text

The Valkyries Friendship Bracelets

I love this scene of The Valkyries making friendship bracelets & choosing the colors for each other because of the wholesomeness in it, as well as the possible foreshadowing:

Gwyn choose for Emerie: Green, Purple, and Gold

Nesta choose for Gwyn: Blue, White, and Teal

Emerie choose for Nesta: Navy Blue, Crimson, and Silver.

If these colors truly mean anything remains to be seen. But the Gold, Blue, and Crimson colors stand out to me given we have:

Mor who Emerie blushed about and who is associated with Gold, imo, because of her hair color and Gold just seems to fit with Mor given who her character is.

Azriel who we have after this scene Nesta saying was the new ribbon for Gwyn, & who is associated with Blue because of his Siphons. Actually, they both are associated with Blue given the Invoking Stone the priestesses use that is also a parallel in a way to the Illyrian Siphons. Equals am I right?

Cassian who is mates with Nesta, and his Siphons are red/sapphire in color.

We still have that "three" symmetry with Mor, Cassian, and Azriel getting with Emerie, Nesta, and Gwyn. And with two of those pairings (Mor and Emerie & Azriel and Gwyn) we can finally have the proper closure over the whole Mor and Azriel thing, without Cassian being a buffer anymore, while they get with their respective partners. It's a nice bowtie to that little bit of plotline still left unresolved given Rhysand question to Azriel in his bonus scene.

The foreshadowing is there for us to see. Nesta and Cassian were endgame. It's only plausible to come to the conclusion that Gwyn and Azriel & Emerie and Mor will be endgame as well given the signs.

Which of course only leaves Elain and Lucien to be together in the end given Sarah loves her happy ending for her characters and loves to pair her characters up (just look at her TOG series where a whole group finds their person pretty much from each other friends/acquaintances)

#gwynriel #emerie and mor #nessian #gwyn acosf #emerie #nesta acosf #gwyneth berdara #mor acosf #gwyn and azriel #elucien #elain and lucien #lucien and elain

51 notes · View notes

marvel-starwarsfangirl · 9 days

Text

Ep. 13 "Into the Breach" Review

This was another fantastic episode that packs so much into its 25 minute runtime. Seriously, the finale better be like an hour. I feel like there's so much we have to address, yet so little time. My faith in you doesn't waver Jennifer; you've guided us through thick and thin. I will say that Rampart is surprisingly a really fun character to revisit and I enjoy watching him interact with the Batch. This man doesn't learn, but he's funny now so I give him kudos for entertainment purposes. I loved the dark atmosphere as the finale draws nearer and near. This is the end of the Bad Batch. We know it and they know it.

As usual, spoilers below:

MAMA ECHO RETURNS!!! After so long, he graces us with his appearance and he serves. I loved everything from his action sequences to his sass. Watching him sneak around the Imperial ship, rolling off of crates and working his magic was awesome to watch. That's why he's the Arc Trooper. And boy was he funny too. If it were possible, Rampart would've definitely be set on fire. Between being told he was being demoted to being denied the title of "sir," Rampart was demolished by Echo. It's just so good to see Echo again. I love him so much for his kind heart, quips, and awesome action sequences. The writers delivered!

Rampart, Rampart, Rampart... what will we do with you? He certainly hasn't changed and probably never will. But honestly, I kinda hope he doesn't. Sometimes, people are just aholes who do the right things for the wrong reasons. Rampart provides an interesting moral perspective. And he's still hot. Seeing him cleaned up in the uniform didn't help either. I'm a simple woman guys. He's also hilarious and I love it. Rampart's ego is so big that he unintentionally comes across as whiny and comical. Going forward, I seriously wonder what they'll do with him because he's going to Tantiss. Will he get dropped off? Sell the Batch out? Die in the battle that is to come? Next week will tell. I'm glad he was brought back though. He did his job as a villain well. Now, we get to see him in different situations and it's fun.

Omega, my sweet bean, hang in there. This episode does so well in establishing just how much she's grown over the past few seasons. Omega's always been resourceful and clever. Seeing her scheme to escape the Vault was exciting. You can also see the influence her brothers, particularly Hunter, have had on her. Omega's become more confident and mature. She's a leader in every sense of the word. The other kids look to her for guidance as she plans an escape. I also want to give the other kids a huge hug; I can't imagine what it must be like for them. It's one of the darkest things we've ever seen in Star Wars. Also, Emerie and Scalder rivalry definitely is gonna end with Emerie's true motivations being discovered. Scalder's not gonna let her allow Omega to slip away.

And seeing the boys strip their armor of all their color... that was legitimately heartbreaking to watch. I see it as a symbol of finality. There is no going back once they get to Tantiss. Hunter's "negative" just cements that. The last 5 minutes of the episode were so tense as the boys hitched a ride. As a my discord friend put it, "all roads lead to Tantiss."

There were a lot of smaller moments I enjoyed too. Wrecker was pretty funny this episode. Crosshair and Hunter voicing their trust in Echo was sweet. It furthers just how much the Batch truly trust and know each other. It's that implicit trust that makes me love their dynamic so much.

Anyways, that's all for now. We're truly in the endgame guys. After so long, we've finally made it to Tantiss. All that's left is to get Omega, the children, and escape which is so much easier said than done. I'm so scared yet excited for what's to come. See y'all next week!

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #tbb rampart #tbb season 3 #tbb spoilers

22 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 9 months

Text

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.

Added chapter because I can do whatever I want, whenever I want

[ongoing TW for Sexual Assault]

Gwyn couldn’t recall the last time she’d slept without nightmares. Even when she woke with no memory of her dreams, her body was tense—locked up, and coated in sweat. Like it remembered what she could not, branded against her muscles. That morning, Gwyn woke late to warm, dappled sunlight caressing her face. A glance at the wall told her it was closer to noon than breakfast, with dawn long behind them.

Beside her, Azriel was asleep, too. One of his wings was still draped over her, the edge slipping from her face to hover just beneath her chin like a dark, protective blanket. His arm was tight around her waist, holding her close against his bare chest.

When was the last time she’d woken without a racing heart? Without the lingering memory of her sister's death burning behind her eyes? It was so rare that she woke screaming in the middle of the night anymore, but sometimes when her mind forced her to relive Catrin’s death, Gwyn would find a fellow priestess shaking her fearfully.

She’d expected to see that. Not Azriel, with his burning hazel eyes filled not with fear, but with fury. He’d come to avenge her. And she didn’t know why, but Gwyn had needed to see that. Just once, she wanted someone to be angry on her behalf. Wanted someone to feel the same anger she was always swallowing down to make it more palatable.

He would have killed someone. If she’d grabbed him by the face and begged him to, Azriel would have picked that knife back up, dressed himself, and vanished into the night. And Gwyn suspected he’d be cruel about it, too—would bring her heads, would let her watch him work. She wanted that. And she couldn’t admit it to her friends, who had worked so hard to find inner and outer peace.

Gwyn didn’t think she’d ever have it. Not the way Nesta and Emerie had achieved it, anyway. Sighing, she started to untangle herself from Azriel’s grip.

He tightened his hold, the snake. “Where are you going?” he asked in that midnight dark voice of his. Gwyn shivered.

“We have jobs to do—”

“Not today,” he replied, adjusting his hold so she was on her side facing him. “I have something I need to show you.”

“I’ve already seen you naked,” she complained, her heart picking up at the mere suggestion. Azriel rolled his eyes.

“You have not, but this has nothing to do with this bed. Although, if you feel so inclined afterwards, I won’t stop you from climbing back inside and thanking me—” Azriel laughed when Gwyn smacked him lightly in his stomach. She quite liked him when he was smiling, which seemed like something she shouldn’t admit. Azriel was always beautiful, but utterly devastating when he smiled.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

He only shook his head, his wing pulling off her the same time he took away his arm. “Go get dressed and we’ll go.”

“No breakfast?”

Azriel leveled a flat stare. “I think you know what I’m going to say, Gwyn.”

“Yeah, yeah, something something you know what you’d like to eat.”

Azriel smiled again, sitting up to watch. “Don’t make me wait.”

It was like he knew nothing about her. Gwyn couldn’t help herself. Azriel was in a hurry? Well, maybe she wanted a bath. And after that, she thought she wanted to comb out every little knot in her hair in front of the mirror before dressing herself in one of the Montessere style dresses—blue, this time, which looked rather pretty against her auburn colored hair. Clasping the bracelet to her wrist and strapping a dagger to her thigh, Gwyn finally made her way back into their common living space.

Azriel was waiting, fingers drumming against the chair he was draped in. She hadn’t been prepared for him, dressed in a dark tunic unbuttoned just beneath his collarbones. Gleaming black boots caught against the sunlight, conforming to his powerful legs.

Suddenly, Gwyn regretted getting out of his bed. A punch of lust robbed her of breath, made worse when Azriel rose to his full height. “I brought this on myself,” he said by way of expressing his annoyance.

“You sure did,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t answer to you.”

“And here I was, thinking we were becoming friends,” he said dryly, gesturing for him to follow her. The siphons on his hands gleamed in the light, a bright cobalt she found strangely hypnotic. His eyes caught on the bracelet, brow furrowing with some unnamed question before he looked back at her face.

“How do those work?” she asked when Azriel gestured for her to follow him out. Azriel flexed his hand, looking at the fingerless gloves holding it in place.

“It keeps my magic from overwhelming it. Contains it, I suppose.”

“How are they made?” she pressed.

Azriel hesitated.

“I’m not sure.”

It was a question for another day. Gesturing for the door as if he were the one holding them up, Gwyn said, “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“No.”

“Because you know I wouldn’t agree if you told me?” she guessed.

“Exactly.”

Gwyn might have pushed, but curiosity won out in the end. Azriel had some magic talent for avoiding anyone, slipping them through halls she hadn’t known existed. He clearly wanted to avoid Kai, which made two of them—Gwyn wanted to avoid the prince, too, maybe selfishly because her whole job was getting him to drop his guard enough to tell her something she didn’t already know. Something that would impress Rhysand enough that she wouldn’t have to go back to working for Merril.

Gwyn was doing a terrible job of it. She wasn’t a courtier, didn’t know how to bat her eyelashes and smile pretty enough to get whatever she wanted. She wished she’d asked Nesta for help before she left. Nesta would have known his every miserable secret by now and would have been organizing an auction to sell it to the highest bidder.

Gwyn could have used some of that energy. She was getting nowhere with him. She didn’t know anything the High Lord likely couldn’t have already guessed. Azriel was going to put it all together and what would she have?

Your cypher, a voice in her mind whispered. Don’t be so hard on yourself.

“Gwyn,” Azriel murmured, drawing her attention back to him. Sun on his golden brown skin, eyes gleaming gold and green, Gwyn thought he was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. Maybe in the entire world. He outstretched a scarred hand, head inclined.

Gwyn took it without a second thought. Azriel wouldn’t hurt her. She knew that like she knew her name. For a moment there was nothing but oppressive, shadowed darkness and the scent of his clean skin, the warmth of his body when he took the opportunity to pull her close.

Was he looking for excuses to touch her, she wondered? And did she care? Gwyn didn’t have time to consider either of those things, because cool, mountain air touched her cheek. She knew this place. She knew it before she ever saw it, recognized the smell, the way the wind brushed against the grass.

“Az—”

“I thought you’d like to see her,” he said, his voice so soft she might have imagined it. The expansive sky stretched in every direction, endless in its reach. Tall grass stretched toward it, always reaching, never touching. Gwyn could see snow-capped mountains in the distance, and knew if she walked the winding, dirt path winding through the hills, she’d find the old temple.

“This place is holy,” she breathed, looking at what had been added. Little markers, denoting every priestess who had lost her life when Hybern came looking for the pieces of the Cauldron. “It’s holy.”

Azriel didn’t say a word, hands clasped in front of his body. She noticed he hadn’t brought a weapon with him—did he agree, then? It felt wrong to step off the path, winding her way through the tall stone markers until she found the name she was looking for.

Catrin Berdara.

Bravery without equal.

Sister. Friend. Acolyte.

Gwyn pressed her palm to the stone, closing her eyes. Pushing those last moments from her mind, Gwyn could see her as she’d been. Full of life, of mischief. Sunbright. Alive.

“I didn’t know where you were,” Gwyn whispered, not daring to open her eyes. She was safe here. Azriel would keep watch, would keep anyone from getting too close.

It was the only thing Gwyn could think to say. “I didn’t know where you were.”

But she knew, now. Gwyn supposed Rhysand must have known what had happened, and Azriel would be privy to that knowledge. Which meant Azriel knew other things, too. Turning from her sister, she found the shadowsinger staring in the distance very pointedly ignoring her.

A surge of affection rose through her, quickly tamped down as she approached him. This wasn’t a favor—she deserved to know. Gwyn caught him bracing himself as she came closer, tucking his wings tight against his body, legs spread ever so slightly like she might attack him.

“That night,” she began, hating that she had to tell him this. Azriel watched, lips pressed tight. Gwyn tried again. “That night Hybern came, they…” Gods, she couldn’t do this.

“You don’t–”

“There were children,” she said, her voice pitching into a whisper as she said it. “I…” Rubbing her eyes, Gwyn didn’t dare look at him. She couldn’t take his pity. “I bought them time. Did they—are they…?”

Fingers slid beneath her chin, forcing her to look up. “Do you want me to take you there?”

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head out of his grasp. “I just want to know it wasn’t for nothing.”

He considered this, silent as he absorbed her words. “What you did was brave, Gwyn, and I don’t think it was for nothing. Even if they didn’t survive, you tried—”

“No.”

Azriel blinked. “No?”

“That’s not good enough,” she said, shoving at his chest. Azriel didn’t budge, nor did he react, causing her to shove again. “It’s not enough to try. It had to be for something or what was the point? Why let us suffer like we did? Why abandon us?”

“Gwyn—”

“We worshiped Her!” Gwyn shrieked, some emotional dam breaking in her chest. “Dedicated our entire lives to her! And she turned her back on me!”

Gwyn shoved again, hard enough that Azriel stumbled backward. Gwyn couldn’t stop herself, balling her hand into a fist. Azriel caught it this time, eyes flashing a warning even though his mouth remained silent.

“She left me,” Gwyn said when Azriel blocked another hit. And then another. And she knew he was letting her hit him in the first place, getting just close enough that her ringing blows slammed against his palm rather than his chest. That he was going to silently take whatever she threw at him without complaint. “I’m alone.”

“You’re not alone, Gwyn,” Azriel murmured and when she reared back to hit him in his perfect, beautiful face, he grabbed her around the middle and kicked off the ground. Dark wings blotted out the sun while strong arms anchored her against him. “You were never alone.”

“You came too late.”

Azriel sucked in a breath, skin ashen beneath the weight of what she knew was an unfair accusation. What did he owe her, truly? And yet, how could he say she wasn’t alone? Gwyn was alone. She’d been abandoned by more than just her sister, but by the very Goddess she’d once sworn her life to.

“I am alone.”

“Tell that to Nesta, then,” Azriel said in a cold, unforgiving tone. “Tell Emerie.”

Their eyes met and Azriel added. “Say it to me, Gwyn.”

Gods, she wanted to. Gwyn wanted him to hurt as badly as she did. She wanted to cut him into ribbons, to make him low and for what? So he could walk around as miserable and lost and broken as she was?

They were so far off the ground Gwyn could only see green and blue, broken only occasionally by those same mountains. The mountains that would take her home back to the temple, and her work, and a life where she could pretend none of this bothered her. It was tempting to demand he take her back.

“Don’t shut me out,” Azriel murmured, forcing her attention back to him. “Whatever you’re thinking, I can handle it.”

“You don’t understand,” she said, about to demand he put her back on the ground. Telling him so much was a mistake. Gwyn doubted Azriel cared.

His grip on her body tightened. “My mother was a servant in my father’s household.”

Gwyn went so still. The only sound between them was the whistling wind and their frantic, furious heartbeats. A knot in Azriel’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, forcing himself to continue.

“I was an embarrassment to him. He wanted no one to know his shame…and so he and his wife put me in a dungeon for eleven years.” “Eleven…Azriel…”

He took a breath, adjusting his hold so she could look at one of his hands. “There were no windows. No lights. No flying, either, even though instinct demands it of us. I could leave for an hour a day to stand in the sunlight and eat, but never more than that. And when my brothers grew tired of their usual taunting, they found more…creative…ways to make sport of me.”

Gwyn took his hand in her own, rubbing her fingers over the white scars etched against beautiful golden brown skin.

“I used to wonder why I’d been abandoned, too. What I’d done to deserve it.”

Her eyes found us, filled with such familiar pain and loathing that her anger was siphoned out of her body.

“I still do,” he finally said as Gwyn put her chin on his shoulder.

“That’s not exactly the motivational speech I was imagining,” she said with a huff of laughter. Azriel brushed a piece of hair from her face.

“You meet people who remind you you’re not alone. You find new family,” he said, his lips brushing her forehead. “You keep going because the alternative is they win.”

“I do hate to lose,” she said with half a laugh, half a choked sob.

“I know you do,” Azriel replied. “And it was enough, Gwyn. The act itself was enough and I don’t give a fuck if you disagree with me. I’ve been on more battlefields than I can count and have watched soldiers turn on their best friends. I’ve watched fathers abandon sons if it meant saving themselves. And you—”

“Don’t,” she pleaded.

He ignored her. “You had no obligation to save anyone but yourself. You had no weapon, nothing that would have helped you. They could have killed you—”

“Azriel—”

“And you stayed.” Eyes blazing, Azriel’s voice forced her eyes to his face. She couldn’t look away. “You stayed.”

Gwyn couldn’t hide her tears. Azriel didn’t look away, nor did pity ever grace his expression. “You don’t mean that.”

“I’d put you on the front lines,” he replied, which she supposed was the highest compliment someone like Azriel could offer her. “You survived.”

Wiping her eyes on her shoulder, Gwyn whispered in response, “We survived.”

Azriel nodded. “Yes. We survived.”

AZRIEL:

“When I said advanced training, this wasn’t what I had in mind,” Azriel complained. Gwyn stared up at him with those bright, defiant eyes and fuck him for agreeing to any of this in the first place. He was so deeply in over his head he couldn’t have denied her if she’d asked him to stab himself in the stomach.

That was becoming a problem.

“I didn’t realize there was so much flirting before dancing.”

“This isn’t—” Azriel might kill her, too. “This is hardly flirting,” he grumbled, gritting his teeth as he took one hand in his own.

“No? I just assumed you must be, because we’ve been standing here for five minutes, Azriel.”

“Because every time I try to start, you open your mouth with some snappy comment.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t bow–”

“Bowing is part of it—

“Well I hate the bowing—”

“You know what, Gwyn. Ask Kai to teach you, then,” he replied, throwing his hands up in the air. “Maybe you’ll find the bowing and courtly manners more agreeable coming from someone else.”

Once again, Azriel couldn’t help but think that Vanserra would not be torturing him the way Gwyn was. Of course, there would be no cock stroking with Vanserra, either—but likely just as much sniping. Azriel had agreed to teach her to dance since Gwyn had some grand plan to seduce Kai out of his secrets.

And Azriel, though he kept swearing to himself that he didn’t care, found himself dying a little of jealousy. Squaring her shoulders, Gwyn said, “Okay. Bow. I promise not to laugh.”

He almost hoped she did. Azriel had a persistent fantasy where he threw her over his shoulder, locked her in his bedroom, and gave that bratty mouth of hers something to do. One last time, he thought, taking a step away from her to sink into a deep bow. They’d cleared out all the furniture, creating a wide enough space to move around while Azriel taught her the basic steps of a dance.

He was hardly an expert—and he loathed dancing. It made him uncomfortable and beyond that, Rhys had once explained that dancing was a prelude to fucking.

But Azriel considered his tongue a prelude to fucking, and a far more convincing and affective one given how many dances his brother had done where females merely left him standing, looking like an idiot. Azriel had never once put his tongue on a female only for her to leave him high and dry.

Gwyn wanted to dance, though. And this was likely a prelude to her calling him illiterate.

Again.

Gwyn curtseyed, eyes mocking him even when he took her hand and pulled her appropriately close. “Was that so hard?”

“Yes,” she admitted with a little laugh, right before she stumbled over her feet.

“Graceless,” he said, watching that smile slip right off her face. Swallowing, Azriel wondered how he’d never noticed just how beautiful she was. Maybe it was because Gwyn so rarely smiled at him, but at that moment, he’d never seen anyone as beautiful as she was.

He wanted her to smile at him again.

Azriel didn’t know if he’d ever wanted something like that.

“Sorry we can’t all be as wonderful as you.”

“Apology accepted,” he replied smoothly, moving her in a wide arc around the room. Gwyn spluttered and Azriel grinned without thinking about it. Things were just so easy around her. “Eyes on me, not your feet.”

“If I don’t look at my feet, I’ll trip.”

“Where is your confidence?”

Gwyn sighed heavily, flexing her fingers around his own. “How often are you dancing?”

Rarely, though Azriel didn’t bother to admit it. “Enough.”

“I��ll just pretend Kai is you, and my irritation will see me through.”

Azriel pulled her closer. “And when you’ve thoroughly lied to yourself and try to kiss him, what then?”

“In your dreams, shadowsinger.”

She was right about that.

“What do you know about my dreams?”

Gwyn smiled again, unaware of the way the sight made his blood thrum in his veins. “I know they’re all about me.”

“Yeah? Tell me more, then.”

A flush crawled up her neck and suddenly Azriel appreciated what Rhys meant when he said dancing was a prelude for things far more interesting. He could scent Gwyn’s desire just as surely as she could likely smell his. Good. No pretending, then. They were beyond that—ever since he’d taken her to see her sister the day before, the air between them was lighter. Azriel had never told anyone but Cassian and Rhys about his family. He didn’t even know what had made him want to tell her. It went beyond comfort. Azriel had merely wanted her to see him the way he was certain he now saw her.

“I think you know.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, drawing her closer still, until they were moving in a tight circle, chest pressed to chest. He was going to hoist her in the air and do every filthy thing currently racing through his mind. “I do know. Tell me what I dream about.”

“I…”

“You have no idea what dreams I have about you,” he insisted, daring her to call his bluff. “No clue what I could do to you.”

Looking up through dark lashes, Azriel could have wept knowing what was about to happen. “You’re all talk, shadowsinger.”

Quicker than she could track, Azriel had her pushed against the nearby wall just beside his bedroom door. He was going to get to do what he’d hoped—throw her over his shoulder, take her to bed, pull up that dress, and taste her like he wanted.

“Is that a dare?” he whispered, running his nose just behind her ear. “I can smell what you want.”

“You don’t know anything,” she replied, hand slamming against his chest. She could have shoved—Azriel would have backed off if she had. Instead, Gwyn fisted her fingers in the lapel of his tunic. “You don’t have the first clue what I want.”

This was insanity and he knew it. Brushing his mouth over her own, Azriel said, “Why don’t you tell me what you want, then.”

“I want you to stop talking,” Gwyn said.

Done. Azriel pressed his mouth against her own, too hungry to be nice. Gwyn’s grip tightened against his tunic, pulling him closer to meet him with that same, desperate fervor. Fuck fuck fuck— “You’re sweet,” Azriel gasped, giving in to his every filthy thought. Gwyn squealed when he lifted her off the ground, tossing her over his shoulder.

He ought to have known better. Should have known Gwyn was never going to play damsel in distress, was never going to let him drag her around like a doll. Azriel groaned, knees buckling when her fingers slid over his wings.

He just barely managed to get her flat on his back before his legs gave out. “Cruel female,” he whispered, desperate for her to do it again.

“You should know better,” Gwyn replied in a breathy voice that was absolutely going to be the death of him. Somehow—and Azriel couldn’t explain how—he could feel those words in the base of his cock.

“You’re right,” he agreed, draping his wings around them both as an invitation and to blot out the world around them. Gwyn, who’d been just a shade too taut for his liking, immediately relaxed. It was just them in here. And in this little bubble, safe from the rest of the world, Azriel could kiss her the way he wanted to.

The way he’d been dreaming about. He hadn’t questioned what kind of experience she had, but Azriel guessed it was very little, given how clumsy and unpracticed she was. Gwyn was competitive, and he was patient. It took her no time to figure it out and when she did, Azriel was tempted to roll on his back and let her have at him.

Gwyn seemed perfectly content where she was, fingers in his hair while Azriel tried to figure out how exactly to touch her. That was made nearly impossible when he slid his tongue into her mouth, meeting her own with an explosion of pleasure that threatened to undo him. His whole body jerked, grinding against her lithe, soft form beneath him.

Gwyn’s legs parted and it was all over. Azriel was coming undone, could barely think. If he didn’t put his mouth on all of her, he was pretty sure he might go mad. Instinct was riding him harder than it ever had, demanded he touch, he smell, he taste. There was nothing rational left about him.

Just the animal.

Dragging his mouth from hers, a rumble of approval slipping from behind his teeth when he saw those swollen, kiss stained lips, Azriel nipped his way down her throat.

“Az,” Gwyn breathed. He groaned at the sound of his name on her lips. Did she want him to stop? Azriel looked up, face positioned just between her heaving breasts. “What are we doing?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Blinking like an idiot, he looked back down her body.

She leaned up on her elbows, hair spilling around her perfect, flushed face. Maybe he should kiss her again, he thought. Just for good measure, just until she was as mindless as he felt.

“We’re…” Fuck, he didn’t know. He’d nearly said it was casual and the moment he’d tried, something reverberated angrily in his stomach. Azriel merely shook his head. “We’ll figure it out.”

Later, he prayed, because he couldn’t compete with his cock.

Gwyn reclined her head back, hair a molten halo of fire against the pillow. “Remember our agreement.”

No sex. How could he forget? It was all he wanted—but not if he had to beg her for it. Not if she wasn’t coming to him because she wanted it more than she didn’t. This was enough, he decided. It was better than enough, because snarky, competitive Gwyn still had her legs parted. She was going to let him touch her.

And maybe, someday, she’d let him touch her in other ways. Whatever was currently driving him had convinced him that if he did a good job, she’d want more.

Azriel was only good at two things, which were fighting and fucking in that order. Nothing else had ever mattered to him and certainly didn’t know given the two things Gwyn consistently wanted from him involved one of those two things. Well. One of those two things.

But hopefully two. Azriel certainly wanted both when he settled himself between her thighs and pushed her dress up over her hips. Azriel groaned at the sight of her, eyes rolling back into his skull. Nothing had ever been half as pretty as Gwyn, naked and gleaming wet with arousal.

He was losing his mind. He could hear her over him, whispering his name with unmistakable fear. There was simply no way to explain what was happening or the effect she was having on him. The only way was to show her.

Azriel took a long, languid lick up the center of her body. Gwyn gasped loudly, body bowing off the bed.

Azriel’s eyes flicked to her own. “Did you like that?” he asked, impressed he’d managed to get any words out at all.

“Do it again,” she whispered.

Thank the bloody Cauldron.

Azriel did as he was told, delighted when she kept her eyes locked with his. He thought he could come like this, tongue teasing her clit while he watched those teal eyes become darker and darker. He wanted to watch her come again, this time on his tongue. Azriel wanted to taste it, wanted her to know without a doubt that this was all his doing.

In theory, that was a good plan.

In practice, Azriel was far too undone to be clean around it. Gripping her thighs, Azriel draped them over his shoulder to hold her closer, until her arched back had her lower body held entirely in his hands. She fit perfectly and the gods damn him, but he wanted to know how else they’d fit.

What was worse was the taste of her. She was going to haunt him long after they parted ways, the taste of her so absurdly sweet he couldn’t drag his mouth off of her.

Gwyn writhed, her fingers raking through his hair to push him closer. Azriel took advantage of her desperation, fingers teasing her slick skin until she started panting his name again. Did she understand what she wanted? Or was it merely instinct that made her beg.

He’d be replaying that the next time she scowled at him in training. Tongue working her clit with mindless animal desperation, Azriel pushed one of his fingers into her body. She was so tight, and so wet it utterly destroyed him. Azriel could feel her clamped around his cock.

Gwyn came, the sound breathless and soft—not overly loud, not the fake cries of pleasure that set his teeth on edge. This was for her, a result of her own arousal coming to its natural conclusion against his hand and mouth. Azriel could taste it, swallowing each new wave greedily as he pumped that finger in and out of her.

Another day and he’d keep her going. Would bring her to the edge again and gain, drawing her out until she had nothing left to give.

For now, Azriel pulled away to kiss her, curious to see if she’d like the taste of herself on his lips. Gwyn grabbed at his neck, legs wrapped around his waist until he could feel the heat of her through the fabric of his pants.

Maybe he would beg. Make a fool out of himself while she told him now.

Why did he like the image of that?

Stroking her cheek, Azriel couldn’t think of anything to say. He needed to go to the bathroom and do something about his raging, aching cock before he did something stupid. He pushed himself off her, battling his instinct to stay.

Gwyn reached for his wrist. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom,” he gritted out.

“Stay,” she said in that husky voice. A thrill of excitement skated down his spine when she sat up, smoothing out the wrinkled fabric of her skirt.

“I—”

“I want—” she began, swallowing hard. “I need to touch you.”

A loud roaring filled his ears. “You don’t have to ask,” he rasped. “Touch me.”

Please, he didn’t dare add.

It was a dream, watching Gwyn rise from the bed and come stand between his legs. Better, when she reached for the buttons of his trousers.

And best when those soft, callused fingers pulled out his cock, squeezing around him tightly. Azriel threw back his head, trying so hard to breathe through his nose. He was going to come far too quickly, was—

Something soft and wet licked the underside of his cock. Azriel jumped, nearly kicking Gwyn in his attempt to get away from her. “You—” he was panting, wild and hanging by the thinnest thread.

“Me,” she agreed, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Did you like that?”

“I—” Fuck, he couldn’t get the words out. “You don’t—”

“I know I don’t have to,” she replied in that bratty tone of hers. “I want to. Sit back down, Az.”

Azriel sat immediately.

“Behave yourself,” she warned him, sinking back to her knees. Gwyn was eye level with his cock, assessing it like it was one of her books. Did she like it? Azriel wanted to ask, but she licked him again. Azriel shuddered, cock twitching in her hand. Precome glistened, rolling down his shaft only for Gwyn to lick that up, too.

Azriel was going to die.

As if she read his mind, Gwyn parted her lips and took him into her mouth inch by slow, tortuous inch. She made it nearly halfway before soft gagging erupted, causing Azriel to say, “That’s enough.”

He didn’t want that. Still, he could see that competitive edge in her eye, promising she was going to do better next time. What did Azriel care, truly, so long as she kept sucking him? It was the kissing all over again—it took her a moment to adjust, widening her jaw to accommodate the sheer size of him. Her teeth grazed his sensitive skin and Azriel had to force himself to stay still and not buck into her mouth.

What he really wanted was to slide his fingers into her hair, hold her still, and fuck that pretty mouth of hers. Azriel groaned, allowing himself to put his hands in her hair, though he was careful not to push her any further.

“Gwyn, I—” he was so close he could barely speak, his words a rasping plea. She merely worked him harder, saliva pooling against his too-tight sac.

Azriel came with a grunt, flooding her mouth as his orgasm overwhelmed him. He couldn’t think, too busy watching her swallow all of it before she released him, a look of triumph on her beautiful face.

“Come here,” he pleaded, pulling her up into his lap. “Come here.”

Azriel kissed her, surprised to find he wasn’t spent like he usually was. The urge to keep going flared through him hotly until he tamped it down. Gwyn settled against him, the pair falling back into bed in a messy tangle of limbs.

“Stay here, tonight,” he whispered into her hair. That was selfish, too—he wanted to eat her for breakfast.

“What about my dance lessons?” she asked.

Azriel only smiled, nodding toward the door. “Alright then. But if you step on my feet—”

“You’ll do what?” she challenged.

She found out mere seconds later, trying to clamber out of bed only to find herself flat on her back again, his thigh wedged between her thighs.

“Find out, Gwyn.”

And Gwyn laughed in response.

#gwynriel #i showed some snippets of this chapter to my gwynriel advisory board #and their response made me want to upload it #i assume no one is upset

75 notes · View notes

daevastanner · 1 year

Text

Imagining Gwyn embarrassed that she doesn’t have a date for Nesta’s mating ceremony and Emerie takes her…

Emerie decides she’s going to show Gwyn an amazing time, even if they are just friends, so she treats Gwyn to “the works” prior to the ceremony

Emerie sends a dress to Gwyn’s dorms as a gift to say thank you for being her date to the ceremony

Prior to helping Nesta get ready, Emerie takes Gwyn to a nice brunch on the Sidra where she asks her a million questions about herself. She even orders them a few mimosas to loosen the priestess up

During the reception Emerie asks Gwyn to dance, and while Gwyn isn’t exactly enthused at first Emerie gets her really into the music and the steps

After a few songs, they grab a drink together and Gwyn notices Morrigan is studying them, next to her is Azriel

When she points this out to Emerie, she snorts and remarks that maybe Az is jealous of Emerie getting to have such a pretty date for this occasion. Gwyn returns the compliment saying Morrigan is jealous of Gwyn’s company

While they enjoy cake, Emerie tells Gwyn that if she ever does go on a date in the future she should settle for nothing less than what they’ve done this evening. She should be her dates’ focus and they should ask her about herself and show her every kindness

In the middle of Emerie’s speech about how Gwyn deserves the best from a partner, Morrigan interrupts asking Emerie for a dance. Emerie shrugs and says she can’t leave her date unattended

Appreciative, but not willing to let her friend lose this opportunity, Gwyn urges Emerie to accept Mor’s offer. After a little coaxing, Emerie takes Morrigan’s hand and is swept onto the dance floor

Gwyn watches the two glide about the room laughing and hopes that one day she’ll find something like that

Then Emerie’s chair is no longer vacant, but occupied by Azriel

He offers Gwyn a glass of champagne and very timidly says “I didn’t know you and Emerie were seeing each other…”

Gwyn feels her face heat, a smile spreading on her lips “She offered to be my date for the occasion.” She jerks her head to where Emerie and Morrigan spin. “She has her eye on another as it were.”

Azriel’s brows lift and Gwyn swears there’s something relieved in his tone. “Oh, that’s good.”

Warm and emboldened by champagne Gwyn smirks, “Is it?”

Color blooms in Azriel’s cheeks. “I just mean… It’s just nice that you have a date is all.”

“Hm,” Gwyn hums in agreement, enjoying this flustered Shadowsinger far too much and hoping to see more of him.

#gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #gwynriel supremacy #gwyn and azriel #acotar fanfiction #emerie x morrigan #Emerie ACOSF #gwyn and emerie

236 notes · View notes

rose-of-the-grave · 3 months

Text

Castle

Pairing: Nesta x Eris

Hey all! This is my first official fic of the year!!! This was for a request. As always I'm the author (please no reposting)

Masterlist. Read on Ao3

Warnings: (18+ I think), suggestiveness, allusion to rape, killing, kissing, angst, protective Eris, I swear that this isn't that dark

Word count: 5,919

Description: When Nesta accepts Eris' proposal she had no idea what she was in for during her new life in the Autumn Court.

Taglist: @sylveryfire

“I want you to tell Eris that I accept his proposal.” Nesta said.

Rhysand looked pleased. “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll send word right away.”

“What’s going on?” Feyre stood not too far away.

Nesta imagined that her brother-in-law had communicated with her mind to mind because her sister immediately turned to face her.

“Are you sure about this?” Her younger sister asked.

“Yes.”

“What about…?”

Nesta didn’t want to even think about Cassian. Earlier when she had told him that she had decided to marry Eris he had been shocked. He had asked her why and she had told him that it was because she deserved it. It was then that she realized that if she wanted him to let her go he would have to believe that this was what she wanted and that she would not budge.

So Nesta told him what she thought would hurt him most. That she thought she could love Eris if given the chance. He had recoiled, hurt, but hadn’t said anything more. Instead he just walked away without another word.

“I want to marry him.”

“If that’s really what you want…” Feyre trailed off.

“It is.”

“Then it is settled.” Rhysand said.

“Good.” Nesta replied, already walking away. Maybe she would come to regret this decision but for now she didn’t want to think about what awaited her. At least this gave her a way to leave the Night Court behind, even if it meant trading one prison for another.

A week later

I'm headed straight for the castle

They wanna make me their queen

All of the preparations had been made for the wedding, it was going to happen in the Autumn Court. Elain was unhappy with her decision but had said that she wanted to come. Rhysand was winnowing them there. Feyre had also wanted to come but with her being pregnant Rhysand didn’t want her anywhere near the Autumn Court. He hadn’t even wanted Elain to come but she insisted.

Nesta tried not to think about Gwyn and Emerie. It had hurt having to tell them that she was leaving but she owed them a goodbye. She was going to miss them.

Elain was dressed in a pretty pink dress with her hair falling down in loose waves. She looked beautiful. Standing next to her was Rhysand in a black suit, as per usual. The wedding was going to happen right after they arrived so Nesta was already dressed. She didn’t want to wear the Night Court’s colors, nor did she want to wear white. Eventually she decided on a blood red dress that was decorated with rubies.

It shone like fire, perfect for the Autumn Court.

She had braided her hair and twisted it up, securing it with a ruby encrusted gold comb. Walking down the stairs was a challenge. The dress was a tripping incident waiting to happen.

“Come on, let’s go.” Rhysand said, wasting no time for pleasantries.

He seemed impatient, perhaps he was worried that she would change her mind at the last minute and run.

The minute she came within range he grabbed onto both her and Elain, winnowing them all away.

They arrived right on the steps of where the wedding was supposed to be. It was beautiful. There were trees outside that were in a permanent state of changing color. People were milling about outside, about to head in. She wondered if Eris was already inside.

What did a Fae wedding even entail? Nobody had explained that to her. Were they like human weddings?

“Rhysand.”

They all turned to look at the High Lord of Autumn who was approaching them. In a matter of minutes he would be her father-in-law.

“Beron.”

Beron smiled thinly before shifting his gaze to her, assessing her. The last time she had seen him was during the war. He arched an eyebrow before turning away, dismissing her. Rhysand stood partially in front of Elain as if to protect her.

A moment later, Nesta realized that the four of them were all alone.

Rhysand escorted her sister in, leaving her out there with the High Lord. He offered her his arm, which she took reluctantly. They walked into the building and he continued walking. He went with her all the way past the spectators, depositing her at the front where Eris stood.

A priestess emerged from the shadows and everybody went quiet.

Nesta followed the robed figure with her eyes until she was standing just behind her and Eris. The priestess started saying something in a foreign tongue. Nesta shifted her gaze to the male that was about to become her husband only to find that he was already staring at her. She looked into his eyes, ignoring what was going on until he started repeating something that the priestess said. When it was her turn she did the same. The rest was a blur.

When it was done everybody stood up and went outside.

Nesta hugged Elain tightly, knowing that there was a chance that they might never see each other again. She smiled, watching as her sister disappeared along with Rhysand.

Eris came up behind her and leaned down to whisper in her ear, “Follow me.”

She turned to him, masking her emotions with a smile. If she was going to fool an entire Fae court then she was going to have to appear besotted with her new husband. He showed her the way to a carriage that was going to take them to the castle.

Once they were sitting in the carriage facing toward each other he told her, “I must confess that I was surprised to hear of your acceptance.”

“Then why did you ask for my hand in the first place?”

“Perhaps you enchanted me with your dancing.”

She laughed. “That’s not a reason to marry someone.”

“I was under the impression that that was exactly why people got married, because they had enjoyed dancing together.”

“Normally they spend some time getting to know each other before they propose.”

“You still said yes.” He reminded her.

“Indeed.”

“Why?”

“If you are fishing for a compliment you will not get one from me.”

He clasped a hand to his chest. “You wound me my dear wife.”

“I sincerely doubt that considering your over-inflated ego.”

“I can assure you that that is not the only thing about me that is big.” He smirked.

Her cheeks flushed a light pink at his unexpected innuendo. Deciding to not dignify him with a response she looked around at their surroundings. The carriage was traveling along a road through the forest where the trees created an arch over their heads.

When they arrived he jumped out of the carriage before turning to offer his aid. She lightly placed her hand into his gloved one, pulling it away once she was standing on the ground. Together they walked up the stairs and into a ballroom. There were even more people in the room than there had been at the wedding.

She straightened her posture and lifted her chin before entering with Eris. The entire room went silent, all eyes on them. Someone started clapping. Then they were all applauding, their eyes still on the pair of them. The crowd parted as they passed through on their way to the front where the High Lord and the Lady of Autumn sat.

Eris bowed, greeting them both. Nesta simply shallowly curtsied. She refused to show any weakness.

Beron made a motion with his hand and, perfectly on cue, the music started and the people started to dance.

Her husband turned to her with an outstretched hand. “Might I have this dance?”

Placing her hand in his once more she replied, “You may.”

He spun her out in front of him before following. He kept on twirling her, occasionally bringing her in close to him before allowing her to dance freely. Her dress caught the light, shining brightly throughout the room.

“You are mesmerizing.” He whispered in her ear before spinning her out.

She kept on dancing, letting the music grab hold of her. She was so lost in the dance that she didn’t realize the wide berth people were giving them as they all watched her. When the band played their last cord Eris pulled her in one last time.

Their faces were close, so close that she could see the tiny flecks in his eyes. When the music started to play again people started to dance once more. He leaned forward and kissed her on the lips for all to see. Before she knew it he had pulled away and was dancing once more with her.

They continued to dance for several songs before they got tired and he led her off of the dance floor in the opposite direction of his parents.

He showed her the way upstairs to what she assumed was their room. She was fairly certain that, considering it was their wedding night, she knew what was going to happen next. It felt odd to think about considering everything she and Cassian had been doing together up until a week ago.

Eris opened the door, allowing Nesta to enter. The room was spacious and well-decorated. She walked over to the full-length mirror, slightly curious what she looked like after so much dancing. Pulling out the comb, she placed it on a dresser that was off to the side. She was about to undo her hair when Eris came up behind her. He pulled out the handful of pins holding her braids in place before unbraiding her hair.

Out of nowhere he somehow had a brush in his hand which he ran through her hair before setting it down. Sweeping her hair over one shoulder he placed a gentle kiss to her shoulder just to the side of her dress’ straps. Pushing the strap off of her shoulder he continued to place delicate kisses across her shoulder. Unable to resist, she leaned back into him.

He made eye contact with her in the mirror, one hand at her waist and the other holding her dress strap. She turned around in his arms and kissed him. For a moment they both allowed themselves to get lost in the kiss but he quickly put space between them, distancing himself from her.

“Good night my lady.” He bowed slightly before walking out of the bedroom. She watched as he walked away, puzzled by his reaction.

The next morning

I'm headed straight for the castle

They've got the kingdom locked up

Nesta awoke to light streaming into her room through the windows. Looking over she sees a maid standing by her bed holding a piece of paper.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a message from my lady.” She curtsied before handing it to Nesta.

It was a request to have tea at noon with her in her room.

“Can you please tell her that I accept?”

“Of course.” She curtsied once more and left.

Sighing, Nesta got out of bed and got her first real look at her bedroom. It had a fireplace that was already lit and the stone had images carved into it. The entire room was red with gold touches. The mirror, which quickly managed to catch her eye, only served as a reminder of the night before. She was still confused. She thought that she would be relieved that Eris hadn’t expected her to sleep with him but she found that some small, traitorous part of her was disappointed.

Determined to put her infuriating new husband out of her mind she opened one of the dresser drawers. The clothes that they had sent along early had been folded and put away in the dresser. She dug through it until she found a red dress that was patterned with black. Tying a belt around the waist she completed her outfit with a coat to keep her warm.

As a final touch she rebraided her hair. Satisfied with her appearance she put on a pair of boots and walked out of her room.

The halls looked a lot less complicated in the light of day than they had when Eris had been showing her the way. After a minute or two she reached the staircase and walked down. Noticing a door that led outside, she went out through there.

There was a path that seemed to wind around the entire castle. Feeling like a bit of fresh air, she randomly chose a direction and started to walk.

The leaves on the ground crunched under her boots and the wind blew right in her face. It was colder than she had expected. She was glad that she had chosen to wear a coat.

After only a few minutes she realized that she had greatly underestimated the size of her new home. The entire castle was beautiful. There were stone statues and fallen leaves and tall towers. It took a really long time before she finally returned to the door that she thought she had used before.

Unsure of where her new mother-in-law lived in the castle she decided to wander around until she found someone she could ask or until she happened across it.

“Nesta.”

She turned around to find the Lady of the Autumn Court standing in a pale red-orange dress that had a high neckline and a sweeping skirt. It was simple but elegant and reminded Nesta of something she herself might wear.

“I apologize, I wasn’t quite sure where to find you.” Nesta said.

“It is quite alright. Please, follow me.” She motioned to a door to her left. “Right through here.”

She led Nesta out onto a balcony where there was a small table with tea and biscuits laid out on china. Nesta took the seat opposite her companion.

“It is lovely to finally meet you.”

“Indeed.” Nesta responded.

“My son has mentioned you several times since meeting you but I never imagined that we would have the opportunity to meet. I remember you from the High Lord’s meeting before the war but I don’t believe I knew your name back then.”

“To be honest, I never imagined we would ever meet as well.”

“And why is that?” The lady of the Autumn Court took a sip of tea.

“I never expected that Eris would propose, let alone that I would accept. At first I had planned on declining him.”

She smiled understandingly at Nesta. ”I would like to think that he is not quite as bad as people imagine.”

��Perhaps. During my time in the Night Court I spent time with Morrigan. They were engaged at one point were they not? It is quite horrible to hear about everything that was done to her. I hear that he takes after his father in regards to his treatment of others. Have you found that to be true?”

She looked sharply at Nesta. “The walls have ears in this castle my dear. You would be wise to not voice your opinions of my husband or your own.”

Nesta nodded and stood up, leaving her teacup full. “I thank you for your advice. Now, if you would please excuse me, I feel a bit under the weather.”

She walked off of the balcony and out into the hallway. In her time spent exploring she had gotten turned around. She had no clue as to where her room was.

After a while she found herself back in the ballroom from before. Now that it was empty it didn’t seem nearly as intimidating. Before it had been full of people watching her every move but now it was just a room.

It was a beautiful room with gold all around. The ceiling was covered with paintings and the arches that went from one side to the other were all decorated with golden leaves. The floor had an enchanting floral pattern that was entirely gold on a white marble.

Her boots were loud against the floor, the noise echoing through the room.

“Here you are.”

Whirling around she found Eris standing in the doorway across the room.

“Were you looking for me?”

“I wanted to inform you that I will be gone for a day or two on business.”

She nodded and started to turn away when he took a few steps closer to her.

“About last night…” He started.

“What about last night? You made yourself quite clear.”

“No, I don’t believe I did.” He walked towards her slowly as they talked.

“I don’t wish to talk about it.” She responded, turning away.

“But I do.”

“What is there to say? You didn’t want to sleep with me on our wedding night. There’s nothing more to be said.”

“I at least owe you an explanation.”

“Don’t.”

“Look at me.” She didn’t turn around. “Look at me Nesta.”

He was finally within arms reach and, grabbing her arm, he turned her to face him. She looked up at him defiantly, not particularly wanting to hear what he had to say but her curiosity won out.

“Well?” She crossed her arms across her chest.

“You were clearly not over that Illyrian brute.”

“Don’t call him that. And there is no reason for me to be over him, I don’t love him. I don’t even like him!”

“I’m not blind Nesta. I can still smell him on you.” He sneered.

“You’re wrong. I may have fucked him but that was weeks ago. I married you. If that doesn’t prove anything then I don’t know what will. I chose marrying you despite knowing just how much of a prick you are over staying in the Night Court with Cassian. And all for what? To be yelled at for how I smell? I don’t think so.” She brushed past him, walking away.

“I’m sorry.”

She turned around to face him again. “For what? For yelling at me or for marrying me?”

“For yelling. It’s none of my business what you did with him.”

“I’m glad you realize that.” Turning back around, she walked out of the ballroom and followed the same path that she had taken the night before with Eris. Luckily she made it back to her room with no problems.

The next day

And there's an old man sitting on the throne

That's saying that I probably shouldn't be so mean

Determined to learn more about the castle, Nesta awoke the next day with a sense of purpose. She was going to explore.

At first it was mostly boring with long hallways filled with bedrooms. That is, until she reached the library. Excited to finally find something new to read having not managed to pack that many books she decided to look around. She was hopeful that she would find something of interest and that it wouldn’t all be boring.

It took a few minutes but eventually she hit the jackpot. Near the back was a collection of books by several authors that she recognized. Among them were Sellyn Drake’s books. Or at least some of them. Most of them she had already read but there were one or two that looked unfamiliar. Selecting one of them from off the shelf she found a chair and started reading.

By the time she had reached the end of the book the light streaming in through the windows had dimmed. She had been sitting there for hours, she realized. Nesta got up and put the book away in its original spot before taking a few others from off the shelf.

Her stomach grumbled, the last time she had eaten had been breakfast and it was now almost dinner time. Most of her meals the past two days had been brought up to her room so she had had ample time to herself.

She was on her way to the door when she heard something. It sounded like yelling but she couldn’t quite be sure. Following the sound she soon started to hear other noises. It sounded as if someone was having sex in the library. The sounds stopped and a young girl who was dressed similarly to the maids ran from behind one of the shelves and right past Nesta on her way to the door.

The girl had looked terrified and Nesta soon understood why when she saw who she had been with, the High Lord.

“Ah, Nesta. How wonderful to see you here. I had quite wondered where you disappeared to. I see you’ve seen Lyra.”

At Nesta’s confused look he clarified, “The young serving girl that just ran past you. She’s pretty enough but still needs to learn her place.”

“You are detestable.”

“She knew what she was getting into when she started working here.” He smiled darkly, causing Nesta to wonder just how safe she was standing there alone with him. She hoped he would respect the fact that she was married to his son but considering he had no respect for those who worked for him and couldn’t even think about saying “no” she was a little skeptical.

“The poor girl was terrified. How can you not see that?”

“Oh but that’s what makes it all the more fun. Watching them protest only to eventually watch them break.”

She hated him.

That was the only thought in her head when her hand rose of its own accord and slapped him across the face leaving a bright red splotch on his cheek.

“You’re disgusting.”

He stared at her in disbelief.

Realizing just how alone they were she turned to leave but he grabbed onto her wrist.

“With a pretty face like yours it would be a shame if anything happened to it. You’d be wise to not be so unkind to your High Lord.” His grip on her wrist started to dig in. Pulling away from him she ran out of the library, not wanting to remain there another moment.

She didn’t stop running until she reached her room. Once inside she put the books down on the bedside table and sat down.

There was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?”

“Just Greta, my lady. I’ve brought dinner.”

“You may come in.”

The maid entered holding a tray of warm food that had steam rising from it. She carefully placed it beside the books.

“I’m also to inform you that there will be another ball tomorrow to celebrate since the rest of your new family wasn’t able to be there. Lord Eris’ brothers will be in attendance as well as a few cousins who were not able to come for the actual event.”

“Thank you. Will Eris be returning in time for the ball?”

“I believe so, my lady.”

“Greta, would you mind if I asked you a question?”

“What is it about?”

“The High Lord.”

Her smile dropped. Suddenly she was no longer willing to chat. She seemed nervous, scared almost.

“If that’ll be all miss.” She curtsied without another word and left.

The next day

And there's an old man sitting on the throne

That's saying I should probably keep my pretty mouth shut

The day after her encounter in the library with Beron was a whirlwind affair of trying on dress after dress. She tried to protest but the maids who had been sent to her room insisted. Greta was noticeably absent from the group.

Eventually they settled on a crimson red dress that was somewhat similar to her wedding dress except it was a bit more traditional in its style. The thin straps were replaced with long, fitted sleeves and the neckline was a bit lower. The waist was decorated with a golden belt that separated the fitted bodice from the long, full skirts. Made from what seemed to be hundreds of thin layers of fabric it had impressive volume. It made her feel like a princess.

Her hair had been put in a complicated style that involved multiple braids being woven together and was matched with a gold tiara. She wore no other jewelry and minimal makeup which allowed the crown to be the centerpiece of her outfit.

They left her in the dress once they settled on it to limit the amount of times they had to button up the back of the dress. It took a while to completely button it up but once it was on her it looked beautiful.

As they were all leaving Eris walked in.

He took hold of her hand, bringing it up so he could brush a kiss against her knuckles. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you.”

The sleeves of her dress mostly covered the bruise that had started to form on her wrist but she was still a bit apprehensive. She didn’t want to bring it up to him knowing that it was his father that she was talking about. Nesta sincerely doubted that he would side with her.

He took hold of both her hands and looked like he was about to say something when he stopped. He brought her hand up for a closer inspection. Pulling back her sleeve he finally saw the whole bruise.

“Who did this to you?” He said, his voice quiet but intense. She didn’t want to tell him.

“Who did this to you?!” He repeated with more volume.

“Was it my father?” She finally met his gaze and nodded.

“What happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“No. I’m fine. I slapped him so he told me to not be so mean. He said it would be a shame if something happened to my face.”

At her words he pulled away and walked out of the room. She watched as he stormed out wondering what he was going to do.

When he returned about an hour later, just in time for the ball, he wouldn’t answer any of her questions.

“Come on, we’re going to be late.” He said, not looking at her. He stood by the door, half facing away from her.

When she placed a hand on his back he hissed in pain. She jerked her hand away but the damage was done. What exactly happened to him?

“What happened to you?”

“Nothing.”

She went to question him further but stopped. He still wasn’t looking at her. She had a feeling that he wasn’t going to tell her even if she kept on asking.

Instead she placed her hand on his arm, allowing him to escort her to the ballroom once more. For once she didn’t feel like dancing. In fact she was dreading this event entirely. She didn’t want to have to see the High Lord again after the night before, nor did she want to meet Eris’ brothers. She didn’t know that much about them but what she did know did not make her want to ever meet them.

Once in the ballroom they walked over to the throne where Beron sat. As much as it disgusted her to say it she could see where Eris had gotten his good looks. Even though he had been alive for many centuries he still remained handsome. Eris’ mother was nowhere in sight. After the other day at tea and the night before in the library Nesta was beginning to see just how dangerous the Autumn Court was.

Eris’ mother was plainly scared of her husband and for good reason. Thinking back on Eris’ reaction to her touching his back she wondered if it was something his father had done.

She was introduced to Eris’ brothers briefly but could not remember their names even moments later. Nesta and Eris danced for a bit before the High Lord cut in.

Eris did not look as if he wanted to leave them alone but he seemed resigned to what was about to happen. At first Nesta and Beron danced in silence and she hoped that he would not bring up the previous night.

“I’m impressed.” He said, breaking the silence.

She looked at him, puzzled.

“I did not think that you would dare to tell my son what happened. It is unfortunate that he took offense, I did not wish to punish him for his insolence.” He did not look as if he regretted it. She had a feeling that he was taking some twisted glee from this predicament.

“I do not wish to have to tell you twice, Nesta. You would be better off keeping your mouth shut in the future.” With that parting threat he pulled away as the song ended.

As more people drifted towards the center of the ballroom Nesta tried to find Eris. Not being able to see him, she decided to leave. She didn’t want to remain there a minute more. If her mother could see her now she would be very disappointed. She had spent many hours drilling her on ballroom etiquette only for Nesta to ignore one of the main rules. It was the height of impropriety to leave a ball after only three songs.

Unable to bear staying she escaped to her room where she pulled the crown off from her head. She unbraided her hair and let it fall down her back in waves. She wiped her face clean before looking into the mirror. Only a few hours earlier she had felt like a princess, now she felt like she was suffocating.

Contorting her body she managed to reach the buttons that held her dress together. Undoing them finally allowed her to breathe fully. She pushed the dress off and pulled on one of her nightgowns. Its soft fabric was a welcome comfort.

She laid down on her bed, looking up at the ceiling for a long time before she heard a knock at the door.

“Nesta, are you in there?” Eris called through the door.

“Yes.”

“May I come in?”

“As you wish.”

He pushed the door open and walked over to her. Sitting down beside her he looked down at her. She sat up and looked him in the eye.

“Are you okay?” He asked.

“No.”

“What do you need?”

Looking at him she made her decision. “A distraction.”

He took a deep breath before asking her, “Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Eris nodded.

Nesta leaned in and kissed him. She pushed him backwards onto the bed, both of her hands holding him down. He wrapped both arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. It was a battle of wills, both of them fighting for dominance. She shifted her leg so that it was on the other side of him, straddling him.

He twisted them around so that he was on top of her, using his strength to his advantage. She gasped allowing his tongue access. He tasted like cinnamon and smoke. When he was distracted she managed to push him off her, rolling him back under her.

He chuckled and she smiled into the kiss. She started to place openmouthed kisses along his jaw before drifting down his neck. When she reached the neckline of his shirt she started to unbutton his top, placing kisses on each newly revealed inch of skin. Before she could undo his belt he pulled her back up.

“Not yet.”

He claimed her mouth once more, holding her against him. Rolling her back under him he started to kiss her behind her ear before drifting down her neck. She moaned as his hands drifted away from her waist. One went up to play with her nipple while the other drifted further south, pushing underneath her nightgown.

However her moan soon turned into a yawn. The past few days had been exhausting to say the least and it was already getting late.

Hearing her yawn Eris pulled away and lifted her off the bed. Holding her in one arm he used the other to pull back the blankets. He then helped her underneath.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“Stay.”

He looked at her, surprise flashing across his features before he pulled his shirt off. He also stripped off his pants leaving in almost nothing.

Nesta shifted over to give him space and he laid down in the bed next to her. Turning on his side he wrapped his arms around her before closing his eyes.

The next morning

Nesta awoke cocooned in warmth. Eris’ arms were still wrapped around her tightly as if he was worried she would disappear. Not wanting to get up she closed her eyes, determined to get a few more minutes of sleep.

When she next awoke it was to an empty bed. Turning over she found that the other side of the bed was still warm but there was no Eris in sight. She started to wonder if perhaps the previous night had been a mistake but then saw a note that had been left on the bedside table.

It was from Eris informing her that his father had asked to see him.

Alarmed after knowing what Beron had done to his son the day before she quickly got up and dressed. She rushed through the castle not sure where they would be but hoping she found them soon.

“...you should’ve done better!”

Hearing the High Lord’s voice she knew she must be close. She stopped outside the door, eavesdropping. From what she gathered Beron was berating Eris about the trip he had gone on earlier. It must have been a business trip that had been unsuccessful.

“Perhaps if you hadn’t been so distracted by your wife you would have actually been decent at your role.”

At those words she barged in.

There they stood, facing each other. Both males turned to look at the intruder.

“You have no right to yell at him like that. I’m sure he tried his best. Don’t blame this on me, I wasn’t even there.”

Beron didn’t even acknowledge her, simply turning towards his son. “If you plan on becoming the next High Lord you had better learn from my example and keep your wife on a leash.”

“Watch it.” Eris warned through gritted teeth.

Not even registering what she was doing she picked up a sword off of the wall that had been part of the decorations and rushed him. He turned but wasn’t able to react quickly enough before she could stab him right through the chest. The sword pierced right through him and Nesta twisted the sword before pulling it out.

Breathing heavily she met Eris’ gaze as the magic went from his father to him. Eris was the new High Lord of the Autumn Court.

“What did you just do?” He asked, stunned. It was hard to believe that what he had been so carefully planning for had just happened.

Taking a step towards Nesta he pulled her in for a kiss. The sword clattered to the ground.

He pulled away but kept close, his nose brushing against hers.

“You look hot with blood on you.”

She tipped her head back and laughed.

There was going to be a lot of chaos in the Autumn Court but for now she was simply happy that she ridded the world of Beron. And so, staring into the eyes of her husband of only a few days, she kissed him once more. It was a kiss of triumph and relief. While the night before had been all about passion this was a reaffirmation of life. Of success.

When she had first accepted Eris’ proposal she had no idea that she would end up killing his father, making Eris the new High Lord but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

#acotar #rose of the grave #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #eris x nesta #nesta x eris #nesta archeron #nesta acotar #eris acotar #eris vanserra #neris #neris fanfic #fanfic #acotar fandom #acotar fanfiction

33 notes · View notes

lizareads · 11 months

Text

Headcannons? Headcannons.

Because sjm has fked up too much and im here to give the characters some justice. No beta, we die like rhysand (at least in my dreams)

Part 1 Part2

Nesta Archeron

Antis dni

Her favorite season is autumn. You can't change my mind. She likes the gloomy weather, the rain pitter-pattering against her window, and if there is a good book in her hand and a cup of tea? That's heaven.

She also likes math. Her mother's prepared her to lie and manipulate people for her benefit, taught her that anyone would be willing to lie. But unlike the words, numbers never lied to her.

SHE. BLUSHES. EASILY. One time Emerie commented on how much she appreciated Nesta as a friend and Nesta just went red all over. Cheeks, neck shoulders and all.

Nesta doesn't like coffee. She does, however, like tea.

Her eyes aren't actually blue, they're grey with flecks of blue in the centre. Sometimes when she is in the sun, Nesta's eyes look blue but they're grey.

Nesta meets up with Gwyn and Emerie every Saturday evening to have a nice dinner and sometimes even drink and do stupid shit.

One time they were all so drunk that they forgot how to open the next bottle of really expensive wine so Gwyn being Gwyn got a hammer and just... hammered it? Anyway, the bottle was smashed to shit and they were all kicked out of the restaurant for causing 'ruckus'.

If Saturdays are reserved for her girlies, Nesta has reserved her Wednesdays for Lucien. After everything, I genuinely believe these two got so close that Nesta considers him more of a brother than rhysand.

Nesta is strangely good with animals. Every time she comes across a street dog or a street cat, they rub themselves against her legs and try to get her to pet them. One time she visited a farm in The human lands, a cow tried to lick her face like ten times.

She has a British accent. I just imagine this woman pronouncing chewsday and wotah and being the most extra when it comes to words.

She absolutely hates peaches and bananas. Something about the texture and the color just sets her off. She could never fighyre out why.

This woman is pansexual, love shouldn't have a gender and this woman is a strong believer of that. Goes by she/her pronouns.

Nesta can't draw or sing, but she is amazing at composing music, especially violin and piano.

Nesta can hold her alcohol really well. She's friends with one of the middle-aged tavern owner and sometimes they hold a drinking contest with Gwyn and Emerie cheering her by. She wins almost every time. The tavern owner hates loosing, but this woman was pretty fucking amazing and it's good for his business. So, he figured why not?

Nesta eventually leaves the night court for the day court. The books, the knowledge, the weather— it's all amazing and she likes Helion a lot more than rhysie.

#nesta archeron #acotar #nesta x gwyn x emerie #gwyneth berdara #emerie #pro lucien vanserra #pro nesta archeron #anti sjm #anti rhysand

71 notes · View notes

goddess-in-heaven-and-hell · 2 years

Text

Lingering Touch (Gwynriel One Shot)

A little story about Gwyn buying lingerie and Azriel losing his mind.

Disclaimer: You do NOT need lingerie in order to be thought of as pretty or to have sex. You also do NOT need to wear lingerie for a significant other if you yourself don’t like it.

Warnings: this is obviously smutty (but not too much, it has plot), specific mention of p in v sex, cum, mild shadowplay, swearing

Word count: around 5500

Nesta looked smoking hot. Even though Gwyn wasn’t that interested in women sexually speaking, she had to admit that, yes, she’d worship the ground Nesta stepped on. At least while she was wearing what she was currently wearing.

“Well, what do you think?”, Nesta took a few more steps towards the crackling fireplace and turned on her tiptoes, presenting her fellow Valkyrie her outfit of choice. In two weeks’ time, Cassian and Nesta will be going away on a trip to the day court in order to celebrate their one year mating anniversary. And apparently, Nesta planned to pack lightly.

Emerie let out a whistle. “Girl, you won’t make it outside of your room for one second if you wear this.”

“Didn’t plan to.”, Nesta winked, took another twirl, and pranced out of the library to change into the fifth outfit of the night. If you could count tiny pieces of lace and leather as outfits.

The girls were currently nestled on the plush sofas of the room. Little chocolate cakes (curtesy of the House) littered the coffee table, the third bottle of wine balanced dangerously close to the edge of it and Nesta’s symphonia droned on in the background. As soon as the girls were finished discussing their latest novel, the eldest Archeron sister wanted Emerie’s and Gwyn’s opinion on the lingerie she bought. And here they were.

“Honestly, Cassian will likely not come back from the trip. With that second set she could easily cause a heart attack.”, Emerie commented dryly, sipping on her wine and waiting for Nesta to continue her runway show. Gwyn thought that she looked like a judge, only missing the numbers one to ten drawn on a piece of paper to make the whole thing more sophisticated.

The priestess herself only nodded in agreement, sporting a growing blush on her cheeks, that now even travelled further down her chest. Nesta’s taste was nothing short of scandalous, with little cut outs in places that really didn’t need a cut out – because they were defeating the whole point of wearing underwear at all – and straps of leather spiraling up her torso and arms. It looked enticing, especially considering Nesta’s lush and athletic body underneath, but it left little to the imagination at what the couple was up to in the bedroom. Not that they were ever shy to share.

“Ready girls?”, Nesta’s voice travelled to their ears before a basically naked body followed, “What do you say? This is a bit on the modest side, but I thought Cass would appreciate the colour.”

Nesta was wearing a lace bodysuit of a beautiful burgundy with a high cut waist. Gwyn couldn’t think of any reason for calling this ‘modest’, but liked it nonetheless.

“That’s gorgeous”, the priestess chimed in, “the color does suit you. And Cassian’s siphons too.”

Nesta nodded, then Emerie gave her thumbs up too (likely rating it a strong 7 in her head), and turned to change into her normal clothing. The fashion show was over, technically, but Gwyn’s thoughts were still honed on the topic. She just didn’t quite know how to address what she wanted to say.

Earlier this year, the mating bond between Gwyn and Azriel, the Spymaster of the Court of Night, had snapped into place. Both couldn’t possibly be happier. Even though they hadn’t officially mated yet, they explored everything together: from the winding streets of Velaris, to their wishes and fears, even to their bodies. Gwyn had never known a time where she felt so completely in tune and open to another person, minus maybe Catrin. And seeing Nesta in these beautifully scandalous sets had Gwyn’s mind reeling – and whishing she could do the same thing for her mate.

She could imagine the look on his face, how it would slowly crumple from the usual mask of indifference to utter admiration. How he would reach for her, scarred, warm hands wrapping around her waist to pull her closer. How he would whisper in her ear.

“Gwyn? Are you even listening? Nes, I think you fried her brain.”, Emerie waved a hand in front of Gwyn’s face, effectively pulling her out of the daydream. She hadn’t even noticed that Nesta had made it back to the room and sat next to Em, opposite Gwyn.

“Sorry,” Gwyn winced, “I was just thinking about Az.” She knew she always could be honest with her chosen sisters.

Nesta’s smile, that had been soft while Gwyn was dreaming, now turned feline. “Oh, I know exactly what our little Gwyn was thinking.”

Gwyn couldn’t help the probably hundredth blush of the night creeping up her throat and into her already overheated cheeks, but nodded her agreement. Nesta was always good in figuring out what Gwyn wanted to say, even if she had no idea how to voice it.

“I think,”, Nesta began and scooted to the edge of the sofa, “that it might be time I borrow out some of the sets, so that a certain Spymaster might lose his mind.”

Emerie now caught on to the idea. “Ohh, that’s that look on your face.”

Gwyn took a deep breath. “I thought I could maybe try something like that. You know, since Azriel was the one initiating most aspects of intimacy in our relationship.”

She caught her bottom lip in her teeth, her thoughts now becoming clearer and clearer. A plan formed in her mind. “I want him to lose control. To see me using my sexual agency. I want to feel the confidence that I always see on you, Nes.”

Emerie clapped her hands excitedly. “Yes! I second that. But you need to spill what happened when he saw you in lingerie.”

“Agreed. Do you want to try some of my sets or should I take you shopping tomorrow? That little lingerie shop by the Sidra is a dream, honestly.”, Nesta sipped her wine. She eyed Gwyn with a proud gleam in her eyes, knowing exactly what kind of background Gwyn had concerning sex. Seeing Gwyn all glowing and confident would make her day – getting the story about how Azriel lost his mind would just be the cherry on top.

“I don’t think I’d fit in your sets, so I guess we’re going shopping.”, Gwyn said through her smile. Only the thought made her both nervous and excited. But it would be worth it, so worth it.

The girls continued to talk about the world. Every additional glass of wine spurring them on to delve into wilder topics and spill deeper secrets. But Gwyn’s thoughts were still hung up on her adventure tomorrow. And when she went to sleep that night, that hazel pair of eyes she dreamt of stayed with her.

***

“Good morning, sweetheart. How can I be of assistance?”

A friendly-looking, voluptuous woman approached Gwyn and Nesta as soon as they stepped foot in Starlight, Nesta’s trusty lingerie shop by the Sidra. The girls had made their way down in the earlier hours of the morning to avoid bigger crowds that normally started bustling through the streets after eleven. Just the outside of the shop was enough to make Gwyn’s hands a little clammy.

She had been used to a modest and simple lifestyle all her life. Being a priestess and serving the mother, you really didn’t need that extra pair of shoes or a fancy dress. The robes were enough, more than enough, as they symbolized their sacred connection to the mother and her gifts. But the mating bond was also sacred, and Gwyn planned on appreciating it in a way she hoped would have Azriel drooling. He knew her with plain black or nude panties and bra. Not that the male ever complained, that was the furthest thing from his mind when he saw Gwyn standing half naked in front of him.

Nesta looked expectantly at Gwyn, waiting for her to answer the lady. And Gwyn complied. “I was looking for a set of lingerie, two actually, in the shades of a dark green and black.” If Gwyn was known for one thing, it was a meticulous plan of action. “I don’t know exactly what kind of style I prefer, but maybe we could go with sets that are not too, eh, scandalous, but are also not modest.” Even before she had finished her little speech, the saleswoman smiled and ushered her towards the back of the shop.

“Wonderful. A dark green set would go prettily with your hair, dearest.”, the woman voiced Gwyn’s train of thought exactly. “Look around in these two sections,”, she pointed Gwyn and Nesta towards the racks of clothing, “and when you have found a style you like, call for me again so we can figure out the sizing.”

The Valkyrie nodded their thanks and were left to browsing the shelves on their own time. Gwyn was a little overwhelmed, even though she had imagined her perfect set of lingerie last night, in the hopes that it would make the decisions today easier. She looked at the sets that caught her eye more closely, running her fingers over the lace or the satin of the fabric. Gwyn thought that alone the feel of these has an erotic undertone that she was more than ready to explore.

From time to time, Nesta would poke her head out from beneath the racks and hold up a set that she thought Gwyn would like. They were, to nobody’s surprise, a little riskier, but tasteful and delicate nonetheless.

After what felt like an hour of scrutinizing over every green and black set in this store, Gwyn called over the saleswoman to seal the deal on five sets that would go into the changing room with her. Two of them were Nesta’s contributions, two Gwyn’s and the last a complete wildcard coming from Lilliana (the saleswoman) who insisted on Gwyn trying it on.

Alone in the changing room, Gwyn went through the sets, trying to decide. She felt good in all of them. Good was an understatement, even. She noticed how she immediately stood taller when the satin caressed her skin, how her hair shone through the contrast of her pale skin and the dark fabrics, how luxurious her curves looked. She didn’t have as much of a chest as Nesta, but the bras she decided on didn’t allow room for any kind of criticism.

After she tried on every set and showed it to her two fans (because they were enamored with everything Gwyn put on), she made her decision.

The dark green set (curtesy of Nesta) consisted of a lacy bra that continued on longer under her bust and only really covered the important bits – the rest was effectively see-through. A pretty golden bead was sown to the fabric right between her breasts. The matching panties continued the same lace pattern, only going dense right at the apex of her thighs. It felt more expensive than it was and complimented her hair and skin nicely.

But it was the black pair that had really stolen her heart., the one the shopkeeper insisted on. It honestly was of a similar style, a bralette and some panties, but it had additional, loser-fitting shorts that were completely see-through. Gwyn felt more covered up, as she technically had two underthings on, but it was still unbelievably sexy. The pattern of the lace though – it reminded her of the movement Azriel’s shadows made. The twirls that usually wrapped around her wrists in greeting or assurance, she could now wear on her body. And Gwyn was convinced that the Shadows wouldn’t be the only ones appreciating the concept.

After paying for the two sets, the two women quickly took off towards the House of Wind again. Nesta was still involved in planning their trip, and Gwyn already stole a precious hour of research from Merrill, that would surely end in some vicious looks thrown her way. Interestingly enough, Merrill refrained from screaming at Gwyn after she found out about her mate.

Besides, there was only one thought Gwyn’s mind was really occupied with. Azriel would be home from a mission by tonight. And she wondered if he would feel in the mood for dark green, or rather black.

***

Gwyn went through her mental checklist another time, honing in on the points that weren’t implemented to perfection: she had yet to place some more candles around the room, and the tea also wasn’t ready yet. After picking and choosing some more lightly scented candles and arranging them in what she hoped would create an inviting and calming atmosphere, Gwyn made her way to the dining room in the House of Wind. She was clad in her usual robes, but her steps were visibly more confident when she thought of the secret she carried underneath. Hopefully, Az wouldn’t notice straight away that something was different.

He had tugged on the little golden strings connecting their hearts and souls a few minutes ago, which usually meant that he wasn’t too far away from home. Gwyn’s heart sped up to race against her chest. She’d finally be able to see him again, feel him pressed against her and hear his calm, reassuring voice.

“Hello Gwyneth.”, said voice startled Gwyn back to reality, little whisps of black Shadows already circling her body to pull her closer to her mate. He stood there, poised on the balcony, nearly blending in with the night sky, and took her in.

“Shadowsinger.”

After a quick scan of his body – which appeared to be unharmed – Gwyn moved towards him. She flung herself into her mate, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck. His own arms snaked around her waist and pulled her up, wings enclosing the two of them in addition.

Just like that, Gwyn’s whole world centered again. She hadn’t even noticed how askew it was until now. She hadn’t noticed how hard it was to breathe now that her lungs filled with a scent of night mist and cedar again.

Azriel was cold. His body trembled nearly imperceptibly from the exhaustion of the flight. But he was home, safely, and that was all that mattered to both of them in this moment.

“I’ve missed you, my love.”, Azriel whispered into her hair. Gwyn looked up towards his beautiful face and nuzzled her nose against his. “I would argue I’ve missed you more, but then our food would get cold.”

Azriel smiled. That gorgeous, slightly crooked smile which nearly revealed the dimple he had on his right cheek. “Let’s eat then, I’m absolutely starving.”

Both made their way to the table, stupidly happy grins on each face. For the next hour, while both wolfed down the food the house had provided, Gwyn got to know everything about Azriel’s mission – spywork in the autumn court following up the change of power from Beron to Eris. He had spent five days there, setting up a new network of informants and getting a grasp for the kind of work that needed to be done. He would have to write it down meticulously as soon as he had time and report the whole thing to Rhys and Feyre. But Gwyn and Azriel needed only a look to decide that the time for more work would come tomorrow.

“So”, Azriel started, sitting back on his chair after having finished the last bite, “do you want to tell me voluntarily what got you all excited yesterday and today, or can I start making a plan on how to get it out of you?” Those damned, watchful eyes focused mercilessly on her.

Of course, he would notice. And of course he had to be in that playful mood tonight that made Gwyn all giddy. “Oh, I just found a really interesting piece of research. Groundbreaking, even.” Gwyn nodded her head while she talked. She had read somewhere that through nodding, your listening partner will be more inclined to believe you.

Azriel began mirroring her, nodding his head as well. His eyes narrowed. “Good. Let’s try another question: How about you tell me why you feel the need to lie to me?”

Gwyn was in deep shit. She felt like being interrogated, which she kind of was, and stupidly enough, Azriel was a master in that area. She couldn’t win this. Not when the mating bond betrayed her feelings to him. That had to be it – his Shadows had stopped informing him of these things right from the start of their friendship.

“Well, maybe”, the priestess raked her brain for a plausible explanation, “maybe I just need a little space. Just because we’re mates doesn’t mean that I have to tell you absolutely everything. Where would be the surprise? The tension? The heat?” Gwyn pressed her lips together to stop herself from rambling. She got the feeling that she’d be an awful suspect.

“Right”, Azriel drawled, angling his head while still keeping his focus directly on her. Otherwise, he went completely, unnaturally still. Like a predator that finally found his dinner and tried to think of a way to kill it swiftly. Or to hunt it down. And judging by the gleam in his hazel eyes, the latter would be in Gwyn’s future.

He spoke again, voice going lower and more quiet. “Then we seem to have two possibilities now. Do you want to hear them, Berdara?”

Gwyn gulped. “I still don’t know why you press me like this.”

“Two possibilities. Come on, ask me. I promise they are fun.”

For him.

“Fine, let’s hear them and be over with it.” Gwyn tried to make her voice sound bored, but failed miserably.

“I don’t appreciate your tone, love.”, Azriel’s brows furrowed together in fake disappointment. “But here they are. First: we’ll try this whole honesty thing again and you tell me what got you all excited. Don’t blame me for wanting to know what happened in my mate’s life, it’s a natural curiosity, I can’t fight it.”

Then his smile deepened, and Gwyn’s knees went so wobbly in response that she was glad she already sat. “You second option would be more of a hassle, but that never stopped you in the past so why would it now. Second: We take this to our room and I’ll only let you leave when I’m finished drawing every single detail of your past 24 hours out of you. How I’m going to do that can be a secret. For the surprise, the tension.” He stopped smiling, leaning forward slightly. “The heat.”

Gwyn was simultaneously scared and excited out of her mind. Would she reach into her gorgeous new underwear, she’d probably face only wetness. But she felt defiant.

“You know, Az.”, she leaned forward herself, “I never knew how much you like to hear yourself talk.”

They stared at each other. The silence grew thick, just like the Shadows that surrounded the pair and felt the tension between them charge.

The Azriel spoke again.

“Run.”

And Gwyn was out of her chair and up the stairs as fast as she could muster. Pure adrenalin pumped through her, and she couldn’t help the manic smile that spread across her lips. That male knew how to keep her on her toes. But she needed to focus, to think. His Shadows won’t help him find her, she was certain. But he still knew what to look for, still knew this house better than her. She decided to head for the library, in the hopes that he didn’t see her make the turn. After she found her hiding place, pressed against a bookshelf, she tried desperately to calm her breath. That would be the first thing to betray her. Then, she needed a plan to overwhelm that colossus of a male somehow. Her brain went to work.

In the dining room, Azriel stayed leisurely sprawled in his seat. He wanted to finish his tea. It would be easy to follow Gwyn’s scent around the house, more specifically the scent of deep arousal and excitement, so she could have a head start. She would end up begging and crying underneath him anyways. This was just a fun foreplay to him.

After a minute or two, Azriel stood from his chair and headed straight to their bedroom, not even bothering to look more closely for Gwyn on his way. He’d rid himself of all the unnecessary armor first and maybe wash his face and hands before he’d start to look for his mate. That way, he’d be easier to undress later and Gwyn will jump out of her skin if she doesn’t hear him search. She’d probably even come out of her hiding spot just to scold him for taking so long.

Back in the library, Gwyn grew more nervous by the second, even though she couldn’t hear Azriel make his move. But that was the point. Why didn’t he come look for her? Or was he already here, and she missed him coming in? She was very aware of her heartbeat, could hear it roaring loud and clear in her own head. He can’t winnow in here, can he?

After a while, Gwyn came to the conclusion that she won’t be able to best him at this game. He will find her eventually, no matter how difficult she made it for him, and then she’d be thrown into oblivion. Her best possibility was a surprise. She prided herself in always doing what the Shadowsinger didn’t expect her to do, so why change tactics now? With a last glance thrown in the direction of the door, Gwyn started undressing herself until she was left in nothing but black lace. And then she waited for him to find her.

After a few more minutes that felt like hours, Azriel stepped through the door, as silent as a feather falling to the ground. Gwyn held her breath and pressed further into the shelve, feeling every book imprinting its form on her bare back.

He took a few measured steps into the room, looking around. “Gwyneth? You are in here, aren’t you? Come out now, my love, and I won’t be too hard on you.”

Not too hard, sure. She probably won’t be able to walk tomorrow. Goosebumps erupted all over her skin at the mere thought and a slight tremble stole itself into her fingers.

Azriel continued to circle the room, now exactly opposite her. Gwyn bet all her money he knew where she was, but wanted her simmer in panic a little more. She won’t have that.

Taking a deep breath, Gwyn stepped out of her hiding place, leaving her discarded robe behind. Azriel had stood with his back to her, but turned at the sound of her naked feet.

When he saw her, she swore a violent tremble went through his own body.

“I thought of a way to appease you.” Gwyn said lowly, taking a tentative step towards her mate, who was frozen to the spot. Even his Shadows had stopped their movement, they hovered above and beside him in absolute stillness. Maybe they wanted to mirror their master or maybe they recognized themselves on Gwyn’s skin.

Quietness seemed to be Azriel’s answer to any kind of situation that surprised him.

“Yes, I thought you would say that.”, Gwyn tried to joke to release the tension that didn’t really dissolve after they stood from the dining table. It only grew.

Azriel forced out a thought, the single thought that was on his mind. His voice felt like he hadn’t used it in centuries. “Gwyn.”

Said Gwyn only smiled. “Az.”

And then he moved like he was out of his mind. Crashing into Gwyn, he pressed her up against the wall next to the door to the library. Both of her hands were caught in one of his, held mercilessly over her head. His other hand was granted the freedom to explore.

Gwyn’s breath grew quicker. She tried to look her mate in the eyes but his were practically glued to her form, raking manically from side to side, up and down. She could feel the single emotion that came crashing through the bond as clear as day. Desire.

Azriel’s hand came to rest on the outside of her thighs, his fingers playing with the lace of the shorts and tugging slightly. His eyes finally found hers and practically burned through Gwyn’s head. He looked so incredibly intimidating, a wall of muscle clad in all black, siphons gleaming in the dark, his strength pressing her into obedience. Azriel usually was careful to not appear intimidating to the ones he loved, to not mirror the stances his father used to frighten, but apparently, all control was thrown out of the window now.

Not that Gwyn was scared. The tingle between her legs only increased. It nearly hurt now.

“Have you figured it out yet, Shadowsinger? Why I was all excited?”

Azriel still looked at her in awe, but began to nod slowly. His fingers traced featherlight up her side, over her ribcage and up her arm. Then he began to caress the outline of her bra.

But Gwyn wanted, needed, more from him. “What do you think Az?”

He swallowed once, his hand coming to rest on her cheek. “I think that I’ve never in five centuries of living seen someone as devastatingly beautiful as you. I think that if I look at you long enough, the image will imprint itself in my head permanently, so that I can see it every time I close my eyes. And- “, he paused his mesmerized stare to her body to drag it up to her face. “And I’m trying to think of a way to fuck you senseless while keeping this on.”

Gwyn released the breath she held during his little speech. She couldn’t say a word, had to stop the whimper that threatened to cross her lips. She could only find his lips.

They connected in a searing kiss, tongues dancing with each other. Gwyn was still deliciously trapped by the male, but wanted to feel him closer. She wrapped a leg around his hip and pushed him towards her, so that their torsos connected without a single millimeter of space in-between. Azriel continued the kiss down her neck, sucking at the spot that had Gwyn panting, just underneath her ears. For good measure, Gwyn wrapped her other leg around him as well. She felt him throbbing against her core now – not that she needed any more of his teasing.

Forcing Azriel off her by his hair, she tried to look for his gaze again. “Az, stop.”

He calmed immediately. She was glad to see that, even in this state of utter obsession, he was able to listen to her if need be. He took a step back, but obviously took Gwyn with him as she was glued to his body and didn’t plan on having it any other way for the remainder of the evening.

“Maybe we should take this to our room? Just in case Nesta or Cassian come by.”, Gwyn whispered into the dark. Azriel only nodded, still in trance and next thing she knew, a storm of black engulfed them.

The first thing Gwyn saw again was herself. She stood in their room, facing the full-length mirror next to the window. The candles she had placed around the room earlier were lit, and she made a mental note to thank the house for that later on. Behind her in the mirror, she saw her Shadowsinger. He looked over her shoulder into the mirror as well.

His arm snaked around her waist, feeling the scraps of lace on its way around. “I really hope you know how beautiful you look.”

Gwyn smiled softly. She indeed felt beautiful, confident, glowing. She suited her mate, like two people cut from the same cloth. Her gaze found his in the mirror. “I do.”

Azriel nodded, his hand finding her breast and gently massaging her through the bralette. His fingers scraped over her perked nipple, eliciting a groan from Gwyn. While his thumb continued his ministrations, circling and pinching her nipple ever so slightly, his lips found the meeting point of her neck and shoulders. He sucked, bit and licked over the spot until Gwyn physically couldn’t take it anymore and had to wiggle herself away from his lip. She saw that a purple bruise formed there already.

Her mate only laughed. “Wound a bit tight tonight?”

Azriel started the same torturous biting on the other side. His hand finally let off her breast and wandered lower, underneath the hem of her shorts. Through the fabric she could still see perfectly well where he was going, travelling down and down until he stroked once over her covered clit. The lacy fabric heightened the friction and Gwyn couldn’t fight the deep moan that escaped. That didn’t go any better when his Shadows decided – or were ordered – to join in and ghost up and down her inner thighs.

Azriel’s hand that previously held her waist in place for him now found her breast again, his other played with her clit over her panties, all while staring at her body through the mirror. Gwyn nearly combusted at the sight of him, of her, and what he did to her while he pressed his cock to her back.

“You have no idea what you do to me Gwyneth. I could combust in my pants right in this moment.”, he buried his nose into her neck, inhaling deeply while his hands continued their stokes and caresses. Gwyn decided it was time he was tortured a bit as well.

“I thought about you when I bought this, you know? I hoped that I could look pretty for you, for my mate.”, she smirked a little when she heard a groan at her neck, “I wanted the lace to look like your Shadows, so that even if you aren’t here, I could feel some part of you on me.”

“Gods”, Azriel ground out through his teeth. That woman would be the death of him. “You look so pretty for me Gwyn, such a perfect girl.”

His Shadows, happy that she mentioned them, curled up her body and towards her face, stroking across her cheeks and lips. She truly couldn’t take it anymore.

Turning around to face her mate and presenting him with the back view through the mirror, she reconnected their lips again into a passionate kiss. She knew that Azriel kept his eyes open to drink her in, if the sounds he made were any indication. Gwyn pushed against his chest until the pair was met with the edge of their bed.

They fell onto it together, a tangled mess of limbs and black twirls. It was truly a challenge, how Azriel tired to undress himself with the help of Gwyn all while not wanting to part from her lips. When he was gloriously naked, his seven Siphons discarded almost dismissively on the floor, he gripped Gwyn’s waist again and positioned her on top of him. Her core ground onto his cock, dragging the lace across it in a way that made Azriel lose his mind.

“Ride me.”, was all he said, sitting up slightly to place kisses across her chest and over her bralette. His fingers found their way underneath both her shorts and panties, pushing the fabric as far to the side as it will go to reveal her dripping pussy. With all barriers aside, she could finally sink herself onto his cock. She felt inch after inch, every ridge and vein of him as she took him in. Azriel was panting, Gwyn let out a moan when she felt all of his length buried into her. Then, she moved.

Gwyn couldn’t really tell if she spent mere minutes or hours on her mate, riding him and herself into oblivion after they both came once, then twice, then three times. All that Gwyn needed for her climax was the look of Azriel’s face as she sat atop him, his words of praise and worship, his fingers that didn’t still once on her body, but explored her through the lingerie. Only when the lace was completely wet with both of their releases did they stop. Azriel continued to undress Gwyn then, slowly and delicately removing every piece of the set and laying it down next to her while connecting his lips with every inch of skin he set free.

Later that night, the Shadows started replacing her underwear, swirling and caressing the places where the fabric would usually touch. Gwyn found her release again just through their movements while Azriel watched. It had felt like hundreds and thousands of kisses and licks that simultaneously worked her breasts, hips, pussy and rear and she was in heaven.

Just before they fell asleep, Gwyn congratulated herself on her ideas. She was fucked out of her mind, but still couldn’t help wondering what reactions the dark green set would elicit from her ravenous mate.

#gwynriel #gwynriel smut #acotar #acotar smut #azriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn #nesta acheron #emerie

269 notes · View notes

cosmonaughty · 3 months

Text

Infusion|| Emerie/Hemlock one-shot

Description: Emerie wants to learn more about torture methods and asks for a hands-on lesson.

This one-shot is not technically nsfw, but I will include a content warning for: + needles + IV + other medical references

I don't know if there's a term for "consensual torture", but it's pretty much that.

Emerie didn’t know what to expect; she wondered if she had made a mistake asking for this, but she didn’t want to back out now. As far as she knew, the anticipation was part of the experience, and in any case, it was something different from the scheduled monotony of her day to day. Still, she couldn’t fight back the anxiety creeping up on her. She was visibly tense and shaking slightly, hardly a surprise, given her attire. Despite the room’s frigid temperature, all she had on was the sleeveless undershirt and shorts that typically served as her underwear.

The temperature of the room somewhat complicated the otherwise simple procedure of placing an intravenous line in her arm. It took a slow couple of minutes of Hemlock’s fingers attentively searching the soft underside of her arm for a decent vein before he finally found one he had confidence in. Emerie winced as his needle sank into her flesh, but she knew that minor sting was nothing compared to what was coming. She turned her head to watch him clamp the tube and move on to prepare the syringe, moving as though the whole process came to him as naturally as breathing. In a way, it felt reassuring to know that she was in experienced hands, but it also led her to wonder how many times he had done this. This exact thing, she thought, probably never.

When he set the large syringe down on a sterile tray beside the table she was laid out on, she let her gaze linger over it. The fluid inside had no color or viscosity that she could easily detect; for all she knew, it could have been anything.

“Whenever you want it to stop…” He reminded her, pushing a plastic bulb into her open hand. Her fingers curled loosely around it and her thumb toyed with the cord it was attached to in an attempt to seem unbothered. Hemlock moved around her to secure the restraints around her limbs. As each was pulled tight, her grip on the bulb in her hand became more rigid. He paused beside her head and repeated what he’d told her before they had begun, “You don’t have to do this. If you back out now, I won’t think any less of you.”

“It was my idea.” She answered evenly. It was an idea she wanted to see through, not only as an act of stubbornness, but as an educational experience. She had been given brief lessons on methods of enhanced interrogation, but had no first-hand experience with it. If it was something she may be expected to assist with, she reasoned, she should have some understanding of what it felt like. Stubbornness had only become a factor over time, after Hemlock had initially dismissed the idea. Now she had to do it. If he didn’t think less of her, she would think less of herself if she gave up now. She wanted to do it. It wasn’t for him, it was for her.

He didn’t make any further attempt to dissuade her, simply secured the final restraint and moved on to make the injection. From the corner of her eye, she saw him deliver a few sharp snaps to the side of the syringe and saw a shimmering drop of liquid well up and spill out of the needle hub as he held it at the ready. She heard him unclamp the tube and briefly detected the flush of saline in her throat.

“I’m going to go slow.” He told her as he fitted the syringe into the access port. Slowly, he depressed the plunger, sending half of the solution into her already tense body.

Emerie didn’t have to wait long to feel the effect. It began as a stinging sensation at the infusion site. Before she had time to register the initial burn, it had shot up her arm and was overtaking her entire body, searing its way down towards her core. Her lips parted to gasp for air and the sound that escaped her was a strained cry of shock; she had somehow believed that the pain would come on gradually, not all at once like a bolt to the chest. She fought to regain her composure, if only she could breathe then maybe she could steady herself. As she exhaled in a series of short, heaving breaths, she was acutely aware of the serum sizzling in her veins like battery acid.

Amidst the blinding pain, she felt something warm press against her wrist and looked to see Hemlock checking her pulse, seemingly untroubled by her initial reaction. The contrast between the waves of pain traveling through her body and the soft, albeit impersonal, human touch was confusing in a way she couldn’t quite put her finger on. The confusion itself intrigued her and pushed her to keep going. Struggling to take in another breath, she did her best to flex her hand toward the half-filled syringe.

“More…” She gasped out. Even through her strained and blurry vision, she spotted a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as Hemlock turned back to the syringe and unclamped the tube once again. His gaze lifted to watch her intently as he, very slowly, depressed the plunger all the way.

Although Emerie had believed that the second round would be easier, she was once again shocked by the white-hot pain that rocketed through her body. This time, she didn’t even try to disguise her reaction, groaning through gritted teeth and pulling against the restraints as her body tried to thrash and twist away from the unseen source of its distress. She tried to pull in another breath, but each of her lungs felt as though it was held in a vise. Her chest barely hitched with a shallow gasp, followed by another and another as she tried to drink in as much oxygen as her panicked body would allow. She began to feel lightheaded, even as thousands of electrified needles stabbed at her nerves, and she could feel something effervescing at the edges of her consciousness, something she couldn’t identify that sparked as intensely as the pain surrounding her.

Her hands, still bound at her sides, flexed and gripped the edges of the table as she managed to pull in a deep, shaking breath. The plastic bulb rolled off the table and dangled limp from its cord as she exhaled in a breathy wail, weak enough to almost be a sigh. Hemlock took this as a signal that she’d had enough and detached the syringe, wiping the port clean before flushing it again.

“It will be over soon,” He assured her, disposing of the empty syringe. “Give it a moment to clear your system. Talk to me when you’re able to.”

Gradually, Emerie felt the pain begin to subside; as it faded, it left behind it a pleasant feeling that she had only felt in passing a few times before. Not a feeling of pleasure, but the relief that comes with the sudden absence of pain. Breaths began to come more readily as her body relaxed, and she savored the ease with which she filled her lungs. Her momentary bliss was disrupted when she felt something warm roll down her neck.

“Am I bleeding…” She muttered, her voice coming out hoarser than she had expected. Hemlock stepped closer and examined her, undoing the restraint that held her head down and turning her face from one side to the other.

“Sweating.” He corrected her, this time doing a slightly better job at hiding his smirk, although she still spotted it. He set to work on releasing the rest of her restraints. Puzzled, she lifted her now free hand to her face and wiped the moisture away from her skin. It was indeed sweat.

“But it’s freezing in here…” She pointed out, still staring at her hand. “Isn’t it…? ‘M shaking…”

“I can see that. Here,” He returned to her side with a towel, which he used to lightly dab at her brow before handing it to her so he could take her arm and ease her off of the table and onto her wobbly legs. “I’d like to hear what your findings are.”

They were sitting side by side on her bunk. Emerie had a blanket wrapped around her and a cup of juice held in both hands. She was still shaking, but her voice had returned and now she was describing her experience with exuberant fascination.

“I thought if I could just keep pushing through, eventually it would get easier…more manageable, at least, but it never did, it just kept going on and on and on and-”

“Careful.” Hemlock warned her gently, supporting her hands with his before she had a chance to spill her drink all over both of them.

“-and on…Yes, thank you.” She smiled sheepishly and took a sip of the electrolyte drink. It tasted like artificial fruit with an underlying saltiness that would be immediately recognizable to anyone who had ever consumed potassium powder. “How long was it, altogether?”

“From the first injection, nearly five minutes.”

“Only five??” She nearly choked on the bright orange liquid and hurried to cover her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Nearly five.” He corrected her. “It’s still very impressive. And you didn’t even confess to anything, so I’d say you held up well. Or well enough for nearly five minutes’ worth. At a low dose.”

“I don’t have anything worth confessing…” She said with a weak little laugh, dipping her head to hide the warm bloom of pink that crossed her cheeks as she said it.

“Not everyone does. Most will come up with something, though.”

“Well,” Emerie lifted her head and sat up straighter, taking on a more academic tone. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” Hemlock’s brow raised in what seemed to her to be genuine surprise.

“‘Next time’? I think once is enough.”

Emerie deflated a little bit; she was confident she could do better if she tried again. Of course, the experience itself had been excruciating, but she felt there was still so much she could learn, about the process and about herself, given enough time. Besides, the way she felt now, radiant and weightless, somehow sparkling in spite of her messy hair and threadbare blanket and the bruise developing in the crook of her left arm, made the pain worth it.

“But I’m sure I could hold on longer next time,” She insisted, clutching her cup tightly in both hands. “You could even increase the dosage or…I don’t know…what about gradually increasing levels of intensity? I think that could be interesting.”

“It could be very interesting.” He agreed, slowly nodding along to her suggestions. “But not tested on you.”

“Why not on me? You test on yourself all the time.” She tried to look resolute, but with her blanket cloak and her cup of juice she ended up looking adorably pitiful. Hemlock exhaled an amused scoff and brushed a few limp auburn strands off of her forehead.

“There are some things you shouldn’t get used to.” He told her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her affectionately to his side. He pressed a kiss to her temple and mumbled. “We really should wash your hair, though.” She laughed and playfully kicked at him as he stood and offered his hands to help her up. Although the conversation was seemingly settled, she couldn’t resist one final retort as she leaned against his side on the way to the refresher.

“Next time I’ll make it to six.”

#the bad batch #star wars fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #emerie karr #dr. hemlock #royce hemlock #EmLock #emeriexhemlock #fic #medcore #medical

15 notes · View notes

dawneternal · 29 days

Text

Part 3

⊹ Gwyn x Azriel modern college AU

⊹ Notes: sorry if this one is a lil predictable <3

⊹ Warnings: sexual harassment, unwanted kiss attempt, panic attack

⊹ Word Count: 4k

⊹ AO3 Link

⊹ Masterlist

Gwyn leaned in close to the vanity, swiping away lip gloss that had smudged outside of her lip line. Murmurs drifted up the stairs as Feyre and Nesta greeted the first guests. Elain’s muffled giggles sounded from the other side of the wall, followed by Lucien’s deeper laugh. Gwyn huffed a deep breath and stood back to examine her final look.

Dark, glittery eyes looked back at her, sleek ponytail swinging as she moved her head. She’d chosen a cropped, long sleeve shirt in a shade of blue that matched her eyes, a black mini skirt, black tights, and shiny platform boots. Even if she wasn’t thrilled about attending this party, she could still look cute. Nesta and Emerie had dressed up too, and she wouldn’t want to look out of place. Though she did have a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt waiting in her backpack.

She waited until Nesta had started her playlist to go downstairs, eager for the buffer of music. At least a dozen people were already scattered through the living room and kitchen, sunset colors painting the scene through the windows. Elain’s perfectly arranged snacks lined the kitchen table, charcuterie boards and plates of cookies, labeled with her pretty handwriting. As well as a little cardboard sign that read ‘use a coaster or else’ in perfect cursive. The middle sister had not made an appearance yet, still canoodling in her room with her fiance.

Gwyn continued wandering, trying not to stay in one place for too long lest someone take it as an invitation to approach. But then Emerie appeared in the growing crowd, grinning wide, pulling golden-haired Mor behind her. Gwyn smiled, her shoulders releasing a little tension as her friend rushed towards her.

“You came!” Emerie gave her a tight squeeze, “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks!” Gwyn took in her roommate’s outfit, a tight black dress with cutouts on the waist and absurdly high heels. Her curls were pushed back with a headband, baby hairs delicately curled and gelled around her hairline. “You look hot!”

“So do you,” Emerie waggled her eyebrows, “Catch you later, okay? Mor wants to say hi to Rhys. Text me if you need anything.”

Mor gave Gwyn a wave as they disappeared. Gwyn watched them weave through the other party goers towards the black-haired man towering above the others. A smile broke through his solemn expression as he saw his cousin. Feyre’s boyfriend. He seemed nice enough, courteous, but she didn’t know him well. She realized for the first time that his presence meant his brother would likely be here, too.

Turning in a circle, she searched the faces around her and found Cassian leaning over a smirking Nesta, smoldering and probably whispering something inappropriate. She kept looking, but she didn’t see the third of the trio yet. Maybe he wasn’t coming. Or Nesta had conveniently forgotten to mention that he was invited. Typical.

Gwyn grabbed a cider from the cooler and made her way outside, hoping no one else was out there yet. Two guys sat talking by an unlit fire pit but they didn’t even look up as she found a chair on the opposite side of the porch. It was chilly, almost unpleasantly so, but she would rather be out here than inside waiting and wondering and overthinking every interaction. What did people do at parties? Nesta would surely scold her for staying out here so long, scrolling on her phone and responding to messages.

When she dared to go back inside, after the sky had dimmed to a grey-blue, the party was in full swing. Loud, weed-scented, alcohol-soaked. She’d sit by Emerie if she could find her, but she was probably dancing with Mor. Emerie didn’t get to see her girlfriend often and Gwyn wanted to give her a chance to hang out without her anxiety-induced clinging. Nesta was nowhere to be found. Gwyn pulled out her phone and shot Nesta a text.

Where r u? I need a buffer :(

She pushed around a laughing group in the hallway and into the living room. It was at least a little quieter here, the dancing seemingly contained in the dining room. A few groups lounged on the couches, limbs tangled together as they all sat half on top of each other. Gwyn’s heart lept in her throat as she caught sight of Azriel and Rhyand sat with a group around the coffee table, some card game in process between them all. At least a game would give her something to do until Nesta returned her text. She glanced down at her phone, but there was still nothing new.

“Hey,” Gwyn smiled at the group, “Can I sit?”

Azriel blinked up at her in surprise for a moment before a grin spread across his face. It was the first time Gwyn had seen him anything but oversized sweaters. He wore a tight black t-shirt, revealing more tattoos, and jeans. And the same beat up boots with charms dangling from the shoelaces. His curls were messy, asymmetrical earrings swinging as he tilted his head. He gestured to the empty spot between him and Rhys and she noticed his nails were painted black.

“I didn’t think this would really be your scene,” He said as she sat beside him, pulling off her boots to sit more comfortably.

“It’s really not,” She admitted, keeping her eyes on her lap, “But Nesta insisted.”

“Haven’t seen her around in a while,” He chuckled, turning his gaze back to his hand of cards.

Gwyn’s stomach churned as Rhys accepted the blunt offered to him from the guy sitting next to him. She glanced at Azriel from the corner of her eye, searching for any signs of reddened eyes. It was one of her least favorite things to be the only sober one in a group. She’d left her half-finished cider in the kitchen and had no interest in finishing it. But Azriel caught her gaze and shook his head just slightly and smiled, reassuring that he was sober, too.

She relaxed a little, then, and let them explain the card game to her. She watched them play and actually found herself laughing and adding a quip here and there. Their group didn’t seem too obnoxious, they were friendly but didn’t tease her or force her to talk. She memorized their names in case she found herself in a similar position - Ameren, Tarquin, Varian, Thesan, Viviane, Kallias.

If it was like this every time, maybe she’d say yes to one of Nesta’s parties again. Tucked between Azriel and Rhysand, her back to the wall, it wasn’t so bad. Though she still checked her phone for a text from Nesta, and still found nothing.

“I need a break,” Azriel said when the round had ended, stretching his arms above his head. Gwyn tried to keep her gaze from gravitating toward his flexing muscles. So that’s what hid beneath those sweaters. “And a snack.”

The group agreed, standing and stretching their legs. Gwyn stayed seated. She’d found her safe spot and didn’t want to venture from it.

“Want anything?” He asked, eyes shimmering as he took in the redhead curled up on the floor. She’d let her hair down, falling in smooth waves over her shoulders.

“Just water, please,” She smiled up at him through mascara coated lashes and he decided to take a breath of cold air outside before returning to the living room. Rhysand smirked, but neither of them noticed.

Gwyn pulled out her phone as her new acquaintances meandered away. So far, she was feeling a little bit proud of herself. She had managed not to cling to Emerie, had potential targets for new friends, and hadn’t panicked yet. She still planned on chewing Nesta out for disappearing on her. Their agreement was that Nesta would hang out with Cassian until he had to leave, and then she’d stick by Gwyn’s side for the rest of the night. Supposedly, he’d only been able to stay for an hour. But it was far past that, now.

A flash of color pulled Gwyn’s attention from her phone screen and she found herself staring at Connor, who grinned at her and swayed on his feet.

“Berdara!” He slurred, as if they were the best of friends. Gwyn gave him a tight lipped smile and turned back to her phone. But Connor stumbled to the ground next to her and tossed an arm around her shoulders. She tried to shrug it off and back away, but his grip was firm.

“It’s so lucky you’re here,” He smiled in a way that made her skin crawl, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Because I was just thinking about that stuff you wrote. Again.”

Not good. Gwyn shoved off his arm and grabbed her shoes.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” She muttered, quieter than she’d wanted to be.

“Oh come on,” He laughed, arms reaching toward her again. One hand landed on her thigh. “Don’t you want to act it out with me? I know that’s why you really sent it. There’s no way it was a mistake.”

So this is what he’d had in mind. He thought she’d been flirting by sending that email and entirely ignored her clarification that it was an accident.

“You’re delusional,” She tried to shove him off again, her phone tumbling to the floor. But he only laughed. And then he was leaning toward her, mouth open, to kiss her. She pushed against him as hard as she could, his lips just barely grazing her jaw before he was falling backwards.

She felt sick, her skin burning with disgust in every place he had touched and her heart was hammering. She needed to find someone. He wasn’t going to leave her alone. He only proved that point by reaching for an ankle. What he hoped to accomplish with that, she had no idea, but now he looked pissed.

This was bad. This was fucked. He was drunk and crawling towards her like some sort of animal. The group on the couch was oblivious and half asleep, the rest of the room empty. Emerie had probably left already. But where was Nesta? Cassian?

Azriel appeared at the edge of the living room holding a water bottle and a cupcake. His jaw clenched as he took in Gwyn’s panicked face and Connor spitting slurred expletives as he made his way toward her.

Gwyn rushed past him and croaked, “I need to go. Please don’t let him follow me.”

She didn’t know what her plan was. She hadn’t driven here. She just needed to get out and away. To cleanse the awful feeling of his hands on her with the cold air outside. So she ran out the front door, shoes still in hand. The chill bit into her as the front door slammed behind her and squeezed her lungs even tighter. Her chest was too tight. She started down the sidewalk, away from the house with music shaking its foundation.

There were too many familiar things about Connor. He brought up too many terrible memories. All of the things that had been burned into her brain without her permission. There were plenty of things she struggled to remember. Like assignment deadlines and where she’d left her keys. But of course, every sensation of the worst day of her life had to be stuck. Always rattling around at the worst times.

“Gwyn!” Azriel’s voice called into the night. She turned, folding her arms around herself, tears threatening to spill over. He walked toward her, brows knit together, the snacks in his hands replaced with a jacket and car keys. He held out the jacket as she reached her.

“Where are you going?” His voice was soft, eyes searching her face, “You’re not wearing your shoes.”

“Away from here,” She managed around the lump in her throat. She didn’t take the jacket, only tightened her grip on her arms. “I need to get away from him.”

“Rhysand’s kicking him out,” Azriel said, “I don’t even think he was invited, anyways. Do you want me to take you somewhere?”

“Please,” Gwyn’s voice cracked. She’d probably regret it when she was calm and alone with him in his car with nothing to say. But she was desperate right now. She couldn't go back into the house until she knew Connor was gone.

“Okay,” He gave her a small smile, gesturing toward a beat-up car parked up ahead.

She let him open the door for her and drape his leather jacket around her shoulders. The whole car smelled like him and it calmed her a little. She lay her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, drawing deep breaths of piney scent. Azriel drove in silence for a long moment, letting her breathe and collect herself.

“Want a milkshake?” He asked when they were a few blocks away from Nesta’s house. Gwyn opened her eyes and turned to him, curious if he’d meant it. He looked serious enough.

“That’s what I do when I have anxiety,” He explained, “It’s usually late at night. I go to a 24-hour place and get a milkshake.”

“I do like milkshakes,” Gwyn whispered, and Azriel grinned.

They drove in silence until they reached the restaurant and he asked her what flavor she wanted.

“Surprise me,” She smiled.

“Are you a french fry dipper?” He asked with a tone that suggested blasphemy.

“No,” She lied.

She was feeling better, driving through the dark in the quiet. Away from the party and Connor and bad memories. They were quiet as they waited at the windows, quiet as Azriel handed her a large chocolate shake, and quiet as he pulled into a spot in the parking lot. It wasn’t a bad quiet. A very comfortable one.

“What did he do?” Azriel broke the silence as Gwyn took her first sip, savoring the sweet taste. It was a very good chocolate milkshake.

She said nothing for a moment, staring down at the fabric of her skirt. There was no reason not to tell him the truth. Especially since he’d already seen her as a pathetic mess and basically put her back together. Twice now.

“He was drunk off his ass and wanted to recreate my fanfiction. He was convinced I sent it on purpose,” She kept her eyes on her lap as she spat the words. If she looked, she’d have seen Azriel’s face contorting in anger and disgust. “That’s why I was so upset yesterday. I could just tell he was going to be a dick about the whole thing.”

“I’m sorry,” Azriel said, swallowing hard. Gwyn shrugged and took another drink of milkshake. “He didn't…try anything?”

“No, but he seemed pretty determined.” She shuddered.

“That's not okay,” Azriel said, his voice gentle. And it should have been validating. It should have been comforting to know she had someone on her side. But all it did was stir up her anxiety. She did not want to make trouble.

“I’m sorry you’ve had to see me in this state so many times,” She said, daring to look him in the eye. They were beautiful in every lighting, it seemed. Including the floodlights of a parking lot late at night.

“I think you’ve just had a rough few days,” He mimicked her shrug.

“Still, you didn’t have to help me. Your friends are still at the party and it’s not like I’m your responsibility or something,” Gwyn punched in all of the bubbles on her lid as she spoke.

“Yeah, but you’re Nesta’s friend and I like talking to you,” He furrowed his brow. Gwyn’s heart fluttered at his words and she looked at him again, wondering if Nesta had gushed about her to Azriel as she’d done to Gwyn about him.

“Thanks,” Gwyn whispered, and Azriel noted her widened eyes. Like she didn’t receive many compliments like that. He made a pact with himself to change that.

“So…Vow of Roses?” He asked. Gwyn choked on her milkshake and covered her mouth.

“What?” It came out as a squeak.

“That’s what your fanfiction was for, right?”

Gwyn blushed and nodded, biting back the smile that threatened to burst through against her will. She noted that he hadn't smirked or grinned. He was genuinely asking.

“I thought you said you didn’t read it,” She scoffed.

“Just enough to grasp what it was,” He flashed a crooked smile, “I recognized the characters.”

“Don’t tease me,” Gwyn covered her cheeks with her hands, cold from holding her cup, “or I’ll have another panic attack out of spite.”

“Hey, I’m not teasing,” Azriel laughed, “I like them too. I just might read them for different reasons.”

Gwyn looked at him, at his twinkling eyes, and a part of her wondered what would happen if she called him a liar. If he’d sputter and get defensive, or smile again and reveal those dimples.

“Fine,” She let her smile spread, “Yes, I like Vow of Roses.”

“If I ask politely, could I read your writing?” He propped a knee up against the steering wheel, resting his elbow on it and curling up against his arm.

“Oh, absolutely not,” Gwyn snorted.

“But I bought you a milkshake,” He grinned, “It’d make us even.”

“Ask me on your knees and I’ll think about it,” Gwyn said, blushing when she realized the double meaning of her words.

She averted her gaze and poked at her milkshake with the straw. Azriel’s grin only grew and he was grateful she couldn’t see the butterflies her words had given him.

If things were more solid between them, he'd tease her about it. But she had only just begun to trust him and he wouldn't risk losing that. He'd been about to ask which book was her favorite, but she tapped her finger against the back of his hand.

“Who painted your nails?” She asked.

“Feyre,” He smiled, “She likes having something to do while she watches movies.”

“They look nice,” Gwyn made a mental note to ask Feyre what the shade was called. It matched the color of his hair perfectly.

“What, you don't think I could do this good of a job myself?” He wiggled his fingers.

“Not everything's a challenge.” She rolled her eyes and smirked.

“It is with you live with Rhysand and Cassian.”

“You didn't tell them about my mistake, did you?”

“No,” He shook his head, “But I make no promises on Nesta's behalf.”

“Nesta,” Gwyn breathed, skin draining of color. She didn't have her phone. It had been left forgotten on the living room floor as she tried to get away from Connor. “She doesn't know where I am.”

“I texted Cassian,” Azriel said, but he turned the car on anyway.

“She's going to scold me,” Gwyn sighed and slumped back against the seat. She forgot about the soft jacket draped over her shoulders until it grazed her skin.

“Hey, it's okay,” Azriel said, “I'll take you back.”

Gwyn was surprised at the pang of disappointment she felt as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed back toward the Archeron house. She had actually enjoyed herself. She wanted to stay there and talk longer.

“Azriel?” She asked, so quietly she wasn't sure if he'd hear it.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

He didn't say anything, but the streetlights revealed his smile.

Gwyn stepped into the house as quietly as she could. She still held her shoes in her hand, milkshake in the other and Azriel's jacket around her shoulders. Azriel followed close behind, shutting the door softly behind them.

Rhys waved from where he and Feyre tossed empty cups into a garage bag. Elain's soft voice drifted in from the kitchen as she encouraged someone to take more leftovers.

Despite their attempts to remain unheard, Nesta appeared in the doorway to the living room, scowling.

“Where the hell have you been?” She snapped. Cassian appeared behind her, studying Gwyn and Azriel with worried eyes.

“I was with Azriel,” Gwyn took a step further into the house so he wouldn't be trapped behind her, but he remained at her side. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you.”

“Then you should've answered your phone,” Nesta spat, bracing her hands on her hips. The house was silent, now. Feyre and Rhys had paused their cleaning, seemingly attempting to have a wordless conversation through facial expressions.

“I didn't have it with-” Gwyn started.

“Yes, I know, because I found it on the living room floor and then someone was telling me you left with a boy.”

“Nesta,” Gwyn's face flushed, her own anger rising as she thought of every time she had checked her phone through the night. “You weren't answering my texts.”

“So you just left?”

“You don't even know what happened,” Gwyn cried.

“You can't just take off with her,” Nesta turned to Azriel, pointing a finger at him.

“I'm not a part of this,” Azriel shook his head and crossed his arms, surprisingly unshaken by Nesta's wrath, “But I told Rhysand before we left and I texted Cassian.”

“Nesta, you were supposed to hang out with me,” Gwyn drew Nesta's attention back to her.

“You were fine when the party started,” Nesta countered.

“Nes,” Cass started, placing a hand on her shoulder. Nesta shrugged it off.

“Well I needed you and you weren't there,” Gwyn cried, “You knew this party would be hard for me.”

“Hey, Emerie was here too and she left early.” Nesta crossed her arms. Her face was red, makeup smeared and hair tumbling from her braid.

“Emerie warned me she would be leaving early a week ago. You made a plan with me.”

“I was worried about you!” Nesta yelled, still deflecting.

“You weren’t very worried about what was happening to me while you were upstairs with Cassian,” Gwyn spat. She heard Azriel shift his weight beside her.

“You can handle yourself, Gwyn,” Nesta rolled her eyes, “It’s just a party and you’re an adult. It’s time for you to work on this.”

Gwyn clenched her jaw, anger blurring her vision as she stared at Nesta. She was silent as she stormed to the coffee table and snatched up her phone. Then she turned around and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” Nesta called, “Your stuff is here and you’re supposed to spend the night.”

“I’m not sticking around so you can yell at me,” Gwyn growled.

Azriel held out an arm, stopping her from rushing out the door. She looked up at him and felt her own expression soften. His eyes held nothing but compassion. Cassian was murmuring something to Nesta. Truly, Gwyn did not want to go back to campus. Emerie was spending the night with Mor and she hated sleeping at the dorm by herself.

“Fine,” Nesta spat at Cassian and stomped up the stairs.

“She’s going to stay at our place,” Cassian cleared his throat, “You can stay here, Gwyn.”

Feyre and Rhys cleared out of the room and Cassian followed. Nesta’s words replayed in Gwyn’s head and now tears threatened to spill over. Keeping her eyes on the floor, she set her shoes down and pulled of Azriel’s jacket.

“You going to be okay?” He asked, gently taking it from her.

Nesta stomped back down the stairs and stormed past them, a bag clutched in her hands. Cassian followed, keys in hand. He clapped his brother on the shoulder and nodded at Gwyn.

“I’ll be fine,” Gwyn gave him a watery smile. She almost laughed at the absurdity of it all, but it still stung too bad. “Text me when you get home, okay?”

“I would if I had your number,” He grinned. Gwyn wrinkled her nose at him and passed him her phone. The phone screen lit up his mischievous smirk as he entered his contact. He turned it off before sliding it back into her hand, face down.

“See you monday, Priestess Elora.” He sang as he made his way out the door. Elora, the red-headed character from Vow of Roses. So he was a massive nerd, after all.

She watched the door for a moment after he left, waiting until she heard the sound of his old car starting up and driving away. Then she flipped her phone over in her hand and turned it on. She couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face, completely erasing the lump in her throat. He had entered his contact as Kieran. Elora’s true love.

14 notes · View notes

drenchedfireworks · 1 year

Text

Wrote a little imagine based on this post for my Elucien lovelies.

Word Count: 1.3K

Elain loved flowers.

Any kind, every kind. The pretty, bright colored ones and the not so pretty, faded ones. She believed each held their own beauty- like people.

As she bent forward to inspect another species of flowers she had never laid eyes on, she heard laughter and paused in the act.

Feyre had brought the entire Inner Circle (Cassian included) to the Summer Court for summer solstice on Tarquin's invitation. While the sea was stunning and the view just as spectacular, Elain was more taken by the flowerbeds existing on the surface of the sea by the shore. Species of flowers she'd never heard of, thriving on the water, undisturbed. And so, she had waded into the shallow waters with her shoes removed and her stockings soaking wet to inspect them more closely.

Her actions would have come across as surprising if any one was paying attention to begin with. Mor was sunbathing with Amren sitting under an umbrella next to her, reading. Nesta was busy making sand castles with Nyx and Gwyn, Emerie and Feyre were busy trying to balance on a surfboard before going out to try it on the waves and all the males were playing some kind of beach sport.

Rhysand, Azriel and Varian were on the same team and playing against Cassian, Tarquin and Lucien.

If Elain had known Feyre had extended the invitation to her mate, she would have found a way to get out of it. Pretended to be sick, faked an injury or even offered to stay back in Velaris in case an emergency occurred. But she hadn't known and from the way her mate had looked at Feyre accusingly when he saw Elain walking down the hallway when they arrived, neither had he.

Having two sisters who were happily mated made her so lonely she wished she was human, wearing her iron ring and presiding over Graysen's household instead. Some days she felt that loneliness with double the power and she could do nothing but feel helpless.

Shaking her head, Elain cleared her mind of such thoughts before they took hold and dragged her down with them. Gently removing a flower stuck between the shadows of two others, Elain held it up to the bright sun to better look at the array of colors splashed across the petals. She noticed the blue, clear sky with white, fluffy clouds and it immediately made her feel better. Lifted her spirits, eased the weight off her chest. Holding her hand above her eyes for shade, Elain turned back to look at the flowers but loud laughter made her turn around again.

Surprisingly, or not so much considering she lied to herself pretty often, the first person she laid eyes on was her own mate. He threw his head back in laughter, golden skin glinting with sweat under the sun showing off his rippling muscles, broad back and abs that led to a v-line on his waist. Lucien had tied his hair back but strands- oh so sinfully escaped the ponytail and fell across his forehead and Elain's hand flexed suddenly with the urge to push those locks out of his face. The copper of his hair shone in the light and she swore she could tell every strand apart from each other. Lucien was laughing heartily, hands on hips, head thrown back, half naked like the rest of the men who had ditched their shirts under the blaze of the heat.

The lines around his eyes crinkled as he laughed harder at whatever they had been talking about. It transformed his whole face in a way that drew her in and held her captive. The lack of inhibition mixed with unadulterated joy lifted her own lips at the corners and before she knew it, she was smiling.

Cassian was laughing next to him but Elain didn't notice anything. Didn't notice anything except him. Didn't notice anything except how his own aura rivaled the sunrays. Like they didn't affect him. Like they were only present to surround him and bask in his light. Enthralled, she watched, her own smile growing when she saw him rapidly say something to the General of the Night Court before they both dissolved into laughter again, Cassian doubling over on the sand.

"Cut it out, Cass" She heard Azriel say but Cassian was shaking on the ground like a flapping fish out of water except his size was more like a shark.

Lucien was wiping a tear that had escaped from the corner of his eye, sobering up before Cassian as he looked around to see how much ruckus the two of them had been causing but instead caught Elain's eye, surprised to see her expression.

She was standing inside the water, flowers in hand with a smile that wasn't reserved, one that reached her eyes and lit up her face in a way Lucien had never been on the receiving end of. The sudden gust of wind made her hair flow wildly which she tried to tame with her fingers, her dress rustling and the flowers in her arms fluttering with it. It was so picturesque that it took Lucien's breath away, his throat feeling scratchy and blocked. He had never yearned for his mate more, the fleeting moment passing through his fingers like sand no matter how long he tried to prolong it.

Lucien's stunned expression made the smile on her face drop, his melancholic expression making her wonder if she had anything to do with it.

They stood there for another moment, staring at each other, flowers forgotten until she felt a small school of fishes scurry past her making her yelp and thus, breaking her out of her trance.

Instinctively, she looked up to see if anyone had noticed her try to waddle her way through the water to get away until she caught Lucien's eye again, his entire face displaying how hard he was trying to hold his laughter in.

"You can laugh," She told him.

Lucien’s face crumpled immediately at her permission, the sound unreserved and crisp as he laughed and made his way toward her to help her out “I apologize, M’lady” He told her as he held a hand out for her to take.

“You don’t look apologetic” Elain reprimanded, taking his hand before she could have second thoughts about it and stepping out of the water.

“And you don’t look put off either” He noted, watching the corner of her lips trying to turn down.

"I can't believe it was that amusing"

"You have to be on the receiving side of it"

"Which side is that?" She quipped and his smirk rendered her speechless at her own sass.

For a long moment, they stood there smiling at one another, hands clasped in each other’s before Lucien cleared his throat “I should get back”

Elain, who had been ignoring the goosebumps across her skin and the strange sensation in her chest at his touch and closeness, nodded “Ah yes. I should also…get back”

Despite what they had said, neither made a move to take their hand back and Elain felt Lucien lightly rub her knuckles with his thumb in an unconscious manner. Like he hadn’t even realized he had done it. Like it came naturally to him.

In that moment, she knew she didn’t particularly want to let go of his hand. Or him. She wanted to bask in the heat of his joy for a long time. Wanted to see where it would take her. And so, everyone heard her gently thank him as she took her hand back but her next words, spoken softly and spoken only for his ears made the red-headed fox grin before she stepped away.

Elain heard Lucien turn toward the others waiting for him and barking “What?” in an irritated manner at all those watching, but she knew their minds were in that same place where they were still holding hands and beaming at one another.

Lucien spared one last glance over his shoulder at his mate's retreating back, trying hard to suppress his smile at the first invitation he had received from her in 4 years of being around his mate.

"Considering you didn't answer my previous question, would you like to do so over dinner?"

120 notes · View notes