#shadows are the captain of the Gwynriel ship

[thalunalovegood]

I’m on my Gwynriel era (been here since 2021 🤓)

So, I’m here thinking about them, and how they will challenge each other, make a lot of bets, make inside jokes, they have so much potential to grown together and heal together.

Look at this, they are so beautiful 🥹

[I hope the artist don’t mind, I found the fanart on Pinterest]

So here a few things that I think will happen, or I would like to see/read in their book.

I said here once, but I would to see that the shadows talk to Gwyn, I know we don't have evidence yet, but I think when Gwyn ask Az if he can sing it was because maybe she heard something, and the way she smiled to them (you can't tell me the shadows aren't the captain of the ship, and don't give me "it's good for Az if they left him", it's BS, the shadows are part of him)

Bets. We know they both are competitive:

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

“Az had let his brother boast. Especially since Azriel had been planning his own victory for a year now.”

Encouraging. They will push each other to their best version, to recognize that they both deserve good things.

Chemistry. All their interactions are so good, and funny, they have a really strong set up. If they talking it's like this, can you imagine they flirting to each other?

“I blame Cassian for this. He's too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days. Azriel laughed. — I'll give you that. Gwyn smiled broadly. — Thank you.”

Opening. Gwyn is comfortable around Az, he isn't self-conscious around her, so they will be able to talk to each other without their past, traumas get the best of them. [Don't give me the "she is a SA survivor speech", she is, but she isn't her trauma, and she can have everything she likes, she reads smut books, and she isn't a child.]

Spying together. Az is the spy master, and Gwyn showed abilities to become one.

She smiled crookedly at Nesta. “I kept to the trees the first two nights, watching the beasts, and I spotted that horrible male and his companions this morning. Saw they’d found my nightgown and displayed it, and I knew they were hunting for you. I thought I’d take them out before they could find you.” “You led the beast right to them.” “I learned where the beasts sleep during the day,” Gwyn said. “And that they get very angry when awoken.”

Gwyn and Az have so much potential, if you see the details, the songs references, the spark, the glow, all of this is used to describe a match bond, anyway, I'm here for them, I can't wait to read their story.

Something sparked in Azriel's chest, but he only nodded his thanks and left. He could picture it, though, as he ascended the stairs back to the House proper. How Gwyn's teal eyes might light upon seeing the necklace. For whatever reason… he could see it. But Azriel tucked away the thought, consciously erasing the slight smile it brought to his face. Buried the image down deep, where it glowed quietly. A thing of secret, lovely beauty.

#azriel x gwyn #gwyn berdara #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #gwyn #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #pro gwynriel #pro gwyneth berdara

[azrielsbxtch]

I remember the first time I read the scene where Azriel’s shadows didn’t warn him Gwyn was on the training ring.

Like do you understand they warn him about EVERYTHING that’s literally their most important job so he’s never caught off-guard…

But they were like nope. Tonight you’re meeting her whether you like it or not💅🏾

If that isn’t the most in your face matchmaking move then idk what is….

They were like “your brooding is not going to stop us from dancing with mother tonight so get it together”

They are truly the captain of the Gwynriel ship😂

#gwyneth berdara #azriel x gwyn #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #gwynriel headcanon #gwyn berdara #gwynriel fic #pro gwyn #nesta archeron #house of wind gang

[sunshinebingo]

Even Lovers Drown -

Chapter 20

Synopsis: Sirens are known to be merciless creatures who lure their prey with their ethereal voices.

But what happens when Gwyneth, a half Fae half siren, meets someone who is immune to her song? Maybe she doesn’t need it for him to want her.

Read on Ao3

Snippet:

His shadows started swirling frantically around him. A wave of fear and rage like he had never felt before overwhelmed him. He grabbed a black shirt that was thrown on the back of the chair beside his bed and quickly put it on, neither stopping to wonder whether it was even his or one of his brothers, nor bothering to button it up. He only walked past the others towards the open door.

“Are you going to look for her?” Nesta’s question broke through the fog of emotions clouding his mind.

Azriel stopped suddenly and turned towards the one he considered a sister. He vaguely noticed Cassian, Mor and Feyre exchanging strange looks amongst themselves. But Nesta only looked at him. He was certain that they were hiding something from him.

“Tell me what you know,” he said, barely able to maintain his composure.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @shadowsxgwynriel @iambutmortal @trashforazriel @hlizr50 @headcanonheadcase @hiimheresworld @freyjas-musings @starfall-spirit @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @sv0430 @wrotethestars

#2 updates of this fic in less than 5 days?? #Who are you and what have you done to sunshinebingo? #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fic #azriel x gwyn #gwyn x azriel #acotar fanfiction

[carynthiangwyn]

INVISIBLE STRING

Gwyneth Berdara had met his shadows 10 years before she met him and she never would have ever thought their first meeting would happen the way it did , yet as she stood and met his gaze for the first time just one thought ran through her mind , MINE .The bond snapped into its place and all she could see , sense and feel was him and the invisible string that she felt in her very being now glowing brightly tying their souls together ❤️

I look up at the stars and think of you tonight, Wishing I could see their light reflected in your eyes. How I long to touch you , hold your body close to mine, as we share our love together beneath the perfect sky - John Mark Green

A Gwynriel mini fic inspired by divine rivals but with shadows instead of a typewriter, a Canon divergent story ✨️ coming to you all in October

I know its my fourth WIP I HAVE SHARED, but after reading divine rivals the idea of the shadows playing matchmaker and a bridge for a long distance relationship for Gwynriel seemed too tempting to not write. This will be a mini fic of 3 chapters only 🤗. I look forward to sharing it with all of you. A big thank you to @beaumaismortel and @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship for believing in the idea and encouraging me to write ✍️

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #wip #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwynriel supremacy #acotar #acotar fanfiction #fanfic #acosf fanfiction #shadowsinger #azriel acotar #acosf

[hlizr50]

As we prepare for HOFAS, I have feelings. Maybe it seems a bit dramatic, but for me it's a little bittersweet to arrive at the day where my post-canon-at-the-time fanfic will be confirmed to be no longer potentially canon.

Vérzavar Ház is a story that I am endlessly proud of. I pushed myself out of my comfort zone, pushed my writing, took feedback and expanded stories and feelings. It is the best thing I've created, and I'm so thankful to have had an audience to share it with.

Thank you to everyone who read a chapter, or all 29. Who gave me kudos or called me a monster or demanded that I fix all the terrible things that happened in these pages. And thank you, in advance, to anyone who may read it going forward, knowing that it will diverge from canon.

If you are anything like me, you are fully invested in the Ruhn/Lidia plot line of House of Flame and Shadow. The anxiety is high, the worry is real, and I'm excited to see the development of their relationship in the terrible situation in which they find themselves.

But there will always be a little part of my heart that will consider Vérzavar Ház as the truth, regardless of what happens next.

Thank you to everyone who read this. Good vibes to you as we embark on this HOFAS journey.

Hopefully it will inspire me to break your hearts once again.

Until next time, my friends!

Special shout-outs:

@headcanonheadcase @mystical-blaise @vikingmagic33 @daevastanner @thecrispypotatochip @sunshinebingo @foreverinelysian @highladyofillyria @thelovelymadone @freyjas-musings @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @mercarimari @renxzs @beaumaismortel @aldbooks @bearbluebooks

#fanfiction #ruhnlidia #ruhn danaan #lidia cervos #ruhn x lidia #lidia x ruhn #crescent city #crescent city fanfic #ruhnlidia fanfic #hosab #house of sky and breath #cc2 #sarah j maas #sjm #ruhn danaan x lidia cervos #lidia cervos x ruhn danaan #daynight #nightbright #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #Vérzavar Ház #daynight fic #ruhnlidia fic

[thebelladonnamoon]

A Court of Scars and Shadows has hit 50k!

(No reposts on any platform please)

I was going to wait until Gwynriel week to post this but I just couldn't resist celebrating this incredible milestone by posting some art I commissioned from the wonderful Ene - inspired by their mission at the Summer Court.

Thank you to everyone for following along, commenting and leaving kudos on the fic. It's been so much fun and I can't believe there are only a couple of chapters left. Big thank you to @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship the best beta reader and editor to ever exist.

Lou x

#gwynriel #gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel fic #gwyn supremacy #gwyneth berdara #azriel fic #gwyneth x azriel #azriel x gwyn #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #acotar #acosf #sjm #fanart

[trashforazriel]

@gwynrielweeksofficial day 12: mates

Art by june_page of ig. Please reblog. Do not repost without permission. @beaumaismortel when she sent me this, and Gwyn’s attire lined up perfectly with A Court Of Scars & Shadows I screamed. If you haven't read this piece by @beaumaismortel & @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship -- you're doing it wrong.

Edited to add water mark: please support artist shops. ❤️❤️❤️

#gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #gwyn berdara #azriel shadowsinger #azriel #azriel x gwyn #acosf #gwyn x azriel #*acosf #* #gwynrielweek2023 #gwynrielweeks2023 #june_page #my commission

[princessyuwa]

First Gwynriel Week Day 1 : F I R S T S

@gwynrielweeksofficial

Of course Azriel's Shadows are the first captains of the Gwynriel ship.

#gwynrielweeks2024 #day 1 #acotaredit #azriel's shadows #gwyneth berdara #gwynriel #they put up a portrait of their mommy 😌 #my edit #made with pixlr #*mine

[shadowsxgwynriel]

The World Above 🧜‍♀️

(Chapter 3)

Synopsis: Gwyn longs to explore the world above the ocean and will do anything to make her dream happen. So she makes a deal with the Sea Witch: have a human man fall in love with her in three months or die.

”You look beautiful.”

Read on AO3

Snippet:

She awoke to a strange weight on her chest and looked down to see the land creature named Shadow staring back at her. He started to vibrate, which made her a little nervous. Gwyn knew nothing about the surface world’s creatures. Did that mean he was going to attack?

But Shadow simply closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Gwyn relaxed, realizing that the vibrating likely wasn’t a bad thing, and fell back asleep herself.

Tag list: @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @headcanonheadcase @lexuria @panicatthenightcourt @pixelilly @shadowriel @starfall-spirit @sunshinebingo @sv0430 @trashforazriel @vulpes-fennec

#the world above 🧜‍♀️ #gwynriel #gwyn berdara #azriel #gwyn x azriel #gwynriel supremacy #pro gwynriel #dark retelling of the little mermaid #gwynriel fanfic

[fieldofdaisiies]

two month story wrap up and shout out part 2: canon/fanon ships

I haven't read many stories in the past months, but I managed to catch up with some. so were we go, a little shout out to amazing creators and my absolute favourite stories I have read lately.

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

Remember, We're Madly in Love - by @velidewrites; Feysand AU; as all her work incredibly well-written and very exciting to read, one warning: you won't be able to stop, so save some time to read it, it is so worth it. not only are the characters were well developed but the whole scenery is so beautifully described in so much detail and with so much love

You and I are going to change the world - by @velidewrites; Shadow&Bone AU; there is only one chapter out so far, but from that you already know that this is going to be another amazing story by this incredibly talented author.

The Valkyrie's Wolf - by @headcanonheadcase; such a cute idea to write about Gwyn and Ithan; I loved the idea and loved the little stories for SJM romance week even more. also if you like Gwynriel you definitely have to check out her other works, such a talented writer.

Cowboy Like Me - by @separatist-apologist; Nessian AU; the idea...god, I loved it. save a horse ride a cowboy, you know? now serious, just like all her other stories so incredibly well written, loved it so much.

The Death of Peace of Mind - by @separatist-apologist; Eris x OC, and when Eris Vanserra meets a bad omen's song I know immediately it is good and it was...so damn good.

I've Got a Hundred Thrown Out Speeches I Almost Said to You - by @the-lonelybarricade; you want angsty Elucien, you shall receive. I loved this so much and felt the pain and all sorts of emotions, so so well written.

You Look Like Bad News - by @the-lonelybarricade; Elucien; this is most definitely the fic I have read the most on this platform, I cannot even count the times of how often I went back to this fic just to read it again. this is just sooooo good, so you all have to read it, this is an order!!

Forget Me Not - by @moononastring; Elucien; this is the first Elucien story and I have no idea how many times I have re-read it, probably as many times as the you look like bad news story. I still love the story just as much as the first time reading it, it is simply amazing.

fics I am looking forward to reading (because they look soooo good)

Prythians Fantasia - by @vulpes-fennec; an acotar circus au that looks more than promising and I am literally counting the days until it comes out

Ex Luna Scientia - @kingofsummer93; acotar x hogwarts AU; like you already caught my attention when choosing a latin titel, because that is what I did with all my big stories. I cannot wait to finally start reading this, because everything about it sounds so amazing.

Trust in My Hate - by @ofduskanddreams; Azris owns my heart and I know for sure this story will too. looking so forward to reading it.

You Can Be the Beauty and I Can Be the Monster - by @isterofimias; Tamlin x Briar you say? I cannot believe I haven't read that yet and now that I discovered it I cannot wait to finally read it.

art shoutout:

@krem-does-stuff and all her art works. she is an incredibly talented artist and does such beautiful art it always draws small tears to my eyes. she deserves to have her art seen by everyone, it is truly incredibly.

general shout out to

@sunshinebingo @autumndreaming7 @acourtofthought @lady-rieldyriel @iambutmortal @octobers-veryown @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @queercontrarian I couldn't decide for a specific story of yours or you don't even write and just contribute to the fandom in other ways, so here my little shout out to you for being so vital in this fandom and all of you adding so much positivity. you are amazing.

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

#elucien #feysand #eris x oc #acotar #acosf #daisiies recommondations📖 #elain archeron #lucien vanserra

[the-lonelybarricade]

You Are Not Alone - (1/3)

Summary: Captured and held in the dungeons of Hybern's castle, Azriel receives help from the most unexecpted being.

This takes place in the A Court of Faded Dreams universe after Chapter 50, though it could possibly function as a stand alone read? I think the context is relatively straight forward, but I definitely recommend reading the main storyline if it interests you!

Dedicating this specficially to @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship, I really hope it lives up to your expectations! 💕

Read on AO3 ✦ A Court of Faded Dreams Masterlist

-

It didn’t take long for Azriel to adjust to the darkness, nor the crawling pain in his chest.

He wasn’t certain how long it had been since the King of Hybern tossed him in the dungeon with an ashbolt still protruding from his chest. Judging from the puddle of blood that had collected at his lap, sticky and no longer warm, Azriel assumed it had to have been several hours. He could feel the poison weeping from the wound like a living, slithering creature in his veins, but his larger concern was the loss of feeling in his toes. He could clench his teeth and tolerate the pain, but the cold—that would be the lethal, silent killer.

Azriel leaned his head against the wall and took a deep breath in, feeling an irrational sense of calm. In some ways, the cold and dark and pain felt like coming home. He had always felt that dungeons suited him far better than any Court or Illyrian War Camp. He was born in a cell and if he would die in one as a consequence of ensuring his High Lady survived, then it seemed like a fitting end.

But Azriel knew he wouldn’t be killed—at least not yet.

Hybern wouldn’t waste the chance to have the Night Court’s spymaster in his dungeon. The information the King might pry from every tooth and bone was too valuable. Besides, Azriel had played this very game with enough of his own captives. He could recognise when someone was being bled out.

Breath departed his lungs—strained, but not labored, which he counted as a good sign. The mortar at his back stung, even through his fur-lined fighting leathers, and Azriel knew the frigid sea below was responsible. Like a desperate lover, the icy water seeped into the stones, crawling up the castle walls so it could lay sinister kisses against his back. The shadows had fled sometime in the night, and now that cold touch was his only company.

That, and the steady drip of water just outside his cell. There must have been a crack somewhere in the ancient stones, enough so that the sea spray could leak in and drip… drip… drip… like a steady metronome. Perhaps it was by design—Azriel was intimately aware that torture need not always be physical. But if the King of Hybern was trying to break the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, he would need more than a damp cell to do it. Azriel had spent eleven years in a cell equally cold and dark, and he was certain that whatever the King’s hand wrought could not match the cruelty of his step-brothers. And his own tolerance aside, Azriel would sooner drown in his own misery than betray a single word of his High Lord and Lady.

Footsteps sounded up ahead, accompanied by rattling chains. Rusted metal hissed as the cell door scraped open. Azriel clenched his jaw at the sight of Jurian, flagged on either side by Hybern’s men. His mortal eyes were filled with a gruesome heaping of pity.

Azriel snarled as two faeries hauled him to his feet, hot agony lancing through his body at the sudden movement. He thrashed against them, but the hours of blood loss had done its job, and the Illyrian soldier was eventually wrestled into the restraints the Hybern’s men had brought with them. Azriel thought only of his brothers as he was marched down the hall. With every dreaded thump of his heart, Azriel knew there was nothing that he couldn’t endure for them. And a small, pathetic part of him—some lingering piece of that scared little boy locked in his father’s keep—wished that his shadows had at least stayed.

Because what cut Azriel deeper than any blade was walking into that torture chamber feeing so utterly, cripplingly alone.

-

Gwyn couldn’t shake the feeling she was being watched.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar sensation. The first time she had noticed feeling this way had been the day the Shadowsinger arrived. That, at least, had made sense to her. A Spymaster watched everything, and when he had shown up explaining that the temple was under threat of attack, why shouldn’t he?

Of course, Gwyn wouldn’t have thought the temple was in danger by the way the priestesses reacted to his arrival. Far too many of her sisters had been more concerned with flipping their hair and batting their eyes, at least in Gwyn’s opinion. And while some had chosen to leave until the threat had passed, far more had chosen to stay. A small part of her wasn’t convinced that number would be fewer if their protector had a less charming face.

Not that he spoke to any of them. He only watched, sticking to the shadows wherever possible. And Gwyn had started to associate his presence with that strange feeling that something was always lurking right over her shoulder, creeping over her bag, tugging at her ankles. And if it was feeling particularly overt, she would feel it in her chest. Like a curious creature tugging at a rope around her rib as if it were a bell pull.

Gwyn had never minded the sensation, or the silent company that typically followed. At late nights in the library, she had made a game of glancing up from her book at odd intervals, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Shadowsinger off guard. She rarely found him. But, once or twice, she’d catch a shadow darting around a book case. Once, she’d sworn she’d seen his face, and that he’d been smiling. Gwyn had thought about that more than once in the time since, even when the Shadowsinger’s presence became less frequent and the temple had been deemed safe once more.

It had been weeks, perhaps, since the last time she had felt that presence. Yet, no matter how quickly she turned her head she could not find the Shadowsinger in the corner of her eye. And where that tug had always felt curious, if a little cautious, now whatever lingered over her shoulder felt… anxious.

It had been throwing Gwyn off all day. She’d felt something skitter over her shoulder during morning prayer, and she had forgotten the words to the chant. Catrin had needed to elbow her so hard that hours later Gwyn was still tenderly rubbing the bruise. Then at lunch, she swore she had seen shadows out of the corner of her eye, but when she had whipped around she was met only with a priestess nearly careening into her with a pile of books.

Now, Gwyn sat in the library in the flickering light of a candle—which she assured herself was a very ordinary thing for a candle to do. But that feeling had come back. And now she felt it tugging at her chest. If she held her breath she could swear she could hear something whispering.

Gwyn slammed her book shut. “Enough,” she declared to the empty room. “I know you’re there. Come out. Now.”

Shadows drifted from behind a bookshelf to her left. With an exaggerated sigh, Gwyn stood from the table and marched straight towards them. Surely a Spymaster should be better at—

There was nothing there.

But Gwyn knew what she saw. She knew what she was felt. Whatever strange sense the Mother had granted her with, it was clearly her design that Gwyn should know when the Shadowsinger was in the room.

She let that sense guide her now, turning foot to a different bookshelf, where surely waiting behind the corner was—

No one.

“Azriel,” she called. “Please, enough of these games.”

There was no response. Gwyn decided that wasn’t surprising, considering for all his lurking, the Spymaster had never said a word to her. Was she even allowed to call him Azriel, or should she use one of his other titles?

“Shadowsinger?” She tried. “Lord of Skulking? Master of Brooding?”

Part of her wondered if anyone had ever said such things to his face and lived. Gwyn supposed she wasn’t saying them to his face. But still, there was no answer.

Maybe she was going crazy after all. Maybe this sense wasn’t a gift from the mother, but some silly manifestation of a crush. That’s what Cartrin would say, anyway. She had listened to all of Gwyn’s rantings about the priestesses who flirted with the Shadowsinger and laughed. Jealous, she’d said. Gwyn had never heard anything more ridiculous. If she was overly fixated, as Catrin had so kindly put it, then it was only because the Shadowsinger insisted on personally announcing his presence to her every time he stepped into the room.

“At least have the audacity to say hello,” she complained to the empty library. “Do they not teach you manners at the Night Court?”

Silence. Her own echo didn’t even answer.

“Evidently not,” she sighed.

Except there it was again. That tug, and a flicker of movement in the corner in her eye. She turned in time to catch a dark tendril darting across the shelf, heedless to the spines of ancient books it danced across. Inexplicably, Gwyn found herself lunging for the shadow, unaware if it was even tangible. Not even knowing what she would do if she did catch it.

“Wait!” she called as it whirred around the side of the shelf. She ran after it, thinking that surely it must be darting back to its keeper.

It slowed as though it understood her, and Gwyn took a weary step forward. “Is Azriel here?”

The shadow said nothing in response, which made her feel foolish for expecting it to. She had noticed the way they curled in Azriel’s ear and had assumed they could talk, but perhaps only a Shadowsinger could understand them.

She shrieked as something slithered against her ankles, and pressed a hand to her thundering chest as she glanced down to see it was another shadow, curling up and around her leg. And another, drifting out of the stacks

“Can you show me where he is?” she whispered instead, assuming he must be somewhere around the corner.

The shadows swelled at the request, affirming her suspicions they could understand her as they guided Gwyn towards the back of the library. This section was less frequented, and Gwyn had to squint her eyes to see the shadows as the faelight grew more scarce. They came to a small alcove fitted with a table and chairs all coated with a thin layer of dust. Gwyn wrinkled her nose, making note to come back to dust the shelves tomorrow. Still, the Shadowsinger was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is he?” she asked again, watching as they ambled toward the large map hanging on the wall. Gwyn stepped closer to examine it, frowning as they began circling a small island to the West. “He’s in Hybern?” She frowned, imagining that he must be on some sort of mission. A dangerous one, certainly. One he would need his shadows for. “Then… what are you doing here?”

The shadows, of course, weren’t capable of answering her.

Feeling very fed up with talking to herself, Gwyn stalked back to her table and scribbled a small note.

“Why don’t you take this to him?” she said, holding out the scrap of parchment. “If you can, that is.”

A tendril drifted towards her open palm, seemingly as curious as she was to see if it could take the note. A small shiver carried up her arm at the peculiar touch of shadow against skin, like a breath of cold air.

Then all at once, the shadows and the note were gone.

-

Without light, it was impossible to gauge how much time had passed between moments of consciousness. Azriel had gotten good at keeping track when he was awake. Counting that steady drip… drip… drip… to keep his mind away from his aching body. There was about one drip every five seconds, and by his approximation and steady counting, he figured it must have been five or six hours since he had woken up back in his cell.

As to how long he had been out of his cell… he couldn’t have kept track of the dripping even if he could have heard it over his raging snarls. The time away was marked only by moments of agony so blinding his vision had gone white and merciful blackness once it became too much.

Jurian had visited sometime an hour ago to feed him a healing tonic, but Azriel couldn’t decide if it was done out of kindness or by the instruction of the King, so that Azriel’s body could heal well enough to be broken again tomorrow. He almost refused to drink it for that reason, but if there was any chance of escape, then he couldn’t refuse treatment.

Sleep felt an impossible thing to surrender to. Not when it was the only thing he still had agency over. So he kept awake, feeling the kiss of ocean through the stone and counting every drip, every second.

Until his shadows returned.

A gift, one of them murmured, producing a neatly folded parchment. Azriel swallowed, wondering if they had gone to Rhysand. Perhaps his brother would have instruction.

I found these scoundrels in the Sangravah library. Are you okay?

-Gwyneth Bardara

It was so unexpected a note that some part of him choked out a laugh. Why had his shadows gone to a priestess, of all beings? It wasn’t as though she was equipped to break him out of Hybern’s prison. But perhaps she could serve as an intermediary.

Flipping over the note, Azriel pressed his fingers into that pool of his own blood and began scrawling a note back.

-

... ..... . ..... ... …

Gwyn stared and stared at the parchment that had returned.

She didn’t understand what it meant, but that was certainly the least of her concerns.

“Is this written in blood?”

On closer examination, the impression of bloodied fingers was unmistakable, but she could have guessed as much by the thickness of the “ink”. Gwyn decided she didn’t really want to know, but had never been able to resist her curiosity. She reluctantly prodded the first dot, finding it tacky to the touch. And if that didn’t give it away, then the metallic scent that drifted in the air as she threw the parchment back to the table would have.

It was certainly code, though not one that was readily apparent to Gwyn. Specific to the Night Court, she wondered? Perhaps the Spymaster wanted her to deliver the note to the High Lord. But…

Then again, perhaps she had seen code like that before.

The shadows had delivered the parchment in the middle of the night, but Gwyn supposed any message written in blood warranted a sense of urgency. She quickly dressed back into her robes, hurrying through the dim corridors back to the library.

Tendrils of shadow trailed her as she searched through the stacks of books, looking for the accounts of the War she had read several months ago. If she recalled, the prisoners of the human alliance had created a code for communicating with one another in the Hybern war camps. The Night Court had been part of that alliance, and if she was right… she wondered if that meant Azriel had been there—had used it to fight against Hybern forces all those centuries ago.

It took paging through several books to find it, but eventually Gwyn located a firsthand account of the code that the human alliance would use to communicate. Soldiers would memorize letters in a five by five grid and would tap out the number of the corresponding row and column. If Azriel was using the same code, then…

P - E - N

Was that… that couldn’t be right, could it?

She might have given up entirely if the shadows didn’t begin skittering over the page, swirling over the cypher like she had indeed decoded it correctly.

”Please tell me these are just Night Court theatrics,” she whispered, fighting nausea as she quickly scrawled her response and wrapped it around her pen. “I hope this is what he wants.”

The shadows certainly seemed to think it was sufficient. Gwyn watched in fascination as they curled around the pen, before disappearing as though she had imagined them entirely.

Do they not teach you manners in the Night Court? Next time try, “Please give me a pen.”

Since he had assumed his title at Rhysand’s side, Azriel couldn’t recall encountering anyone outside the Illyrian Camps with the courage to speak to him so freely.

He adjusted his position, hissing as pain shot through his body as though a hot valve of air had sprung loose. His wounds were still mending from the tonic, resisting any pull or tug. He gritted his teeth against the fresh memory of flayed skin and shattered bone. It lingered in his fingertips as he gripped the pen, feeling the residual pain from where the joints had been snapped backwards. Thinking about what to write to the priestess was certainly a preferable distraction, and he liked thinking about this priestess, in particular.

Gwyneth… something about her had drawn his attention when he’d been stationed in Sangravah. It was the smile that did it initially. The way her nose scrunched and her eyes crinkled… Azriel liked that Gwyneth Bardara smiled with her whole face. As a male who kept distance from his own emotions—watching them like an observer behind a wall of glass—that earnesty was fascinating to him.

But he’d watched her, just like he watched all the priestesses, enough to discover she was more than a pretty smile. She was clever, with an eagerness that made her resourceful. Resourceful enough to decipher a code that hadn’t been used for five centuries.

I’ll take that into consideration next time I’m bleeding out on a dungeon floor, he wrote back.

It didn’t take long for the shadows to disappear with the note. He counted nearly a hundred water droplets before they returned with a new one.

Well, you seem to have plenty of sarcasm left in you. It’s a shame manners have a lower priority.

The smile that tugged at his lips was involuntary, but welcome given that it was the last thing he expected to be doing in a Hybern dungeon.

Are priestesses in the habit of giving lip service to prisoners of war? I would have thought you more compassionate.

The next response came even faster, and he wondered what a Priestess was even doing up at this hour. Evidently, it was being insolent towards high ranking officials of Prythian.

Are Shadowsingers in the habit of seeking out priestesses for help when they get captured? I would have thought you more self-sufficient.

Footsteps sounded down the hall, and that small ember of light that had sparked in Azriel’s chest fizzled to dust.

Get some rest, he wrote to her. In the morning, you may have to come save the poor Spymaster in distress.

The cell doors tore open just as the note vanished in the air. Jurian had returned again with the chains and the sad look in his eyes. Azriel was hauled to his feet, but somehow the hours ahead didn’t feel so daunting. At least this time, he didn’t feel so alone.

-

In the morning, you may need to come save the poor Spymaster in distress.

The shadows hadn’t stayed long enough for Gwyn to send a response, which was a dismissal if she’d ever seen one.

That had been nearly a week ago, passed without a single glimpse of the smoke-like tendrils. The feeling that she was being watched had faded, and the pull in her chest had gone limp, practically non-existent. She almost wished she could tug at it from her side, just to know if he was safe.

Gwyn supposed it could just as easily be a good sign that she hadn’t heard anything from him. If the Shadowsinger had managed to escape, there was no reason to contact her about it aside from her own peace of mind. And why would someone escaping torture be concerned about something like that?

But she couldn’t shake the feeling that he hadn’t escaped and that he was alive. She couldn’t say for sure how she knew it was just… a feeling. One that had spilled into her dreams. Every night she dreamt of a swirling void of darkness. There was always a male voice screaming for help, but she could never see him. All she could see was a scarred brown hand reaching out of the abyss, reaching towards her.

Gwyn thought the Mother was trying to tell her that she should help the Shadowsinger but… how?

“You look like shit,” Catrin said as Gwyn slid into the seat across from her.

With a sigh of defeat, Gwyn lowered her hood. She had been hoping the its shadow might have hidden the dark circles under her eyes.

Catrin’s brows bunched together from the severity of her frown. She glanced down the long table at the priestess’s gathered in the dining room. It was an off time for meals, but enough of their sisters were gathered that Catrin kept her voice low. “You were half asleep at this morning’s service. Are you still having nightmares? About… him?”

Gwyn bit her lip. She already knew the direction this conversation was headed. “I don’t know how to help him,” she said, feeling her heart sink when Catrin rolled her eyes. “If only—”

“I would leave that responsibility to his High Lord,” her twin cut off. It was the stance she had taken all week, and Gwyn understood the sensibility in it. But—

“There is a reason his shadows came to me. And the dreams… We are connected, somehow. I think the Mother wants me to help him.”

“Are you going to break into Hybern’s castle?” Catrin asked, onyx brows raised with an incredulity that grated on Gwyn’s nerves. Even if, objectively, she knew her sister was right. “How would you even get there?”

“Well, we are strong swimmers,” Gwyn said lightly, eyes flickering to the webbed fingers her sister was using to stab a piece of lettuce rather too aggressively with a fork. “Maybe I could take a boat halfway.”

“And then what? Sneak into the dungeons?”

“I…” her mouth went dry. “Maybe there’s a spell. Some kind of glamor that would make me invisible—”

“Good luck getting Azriel to swim back across the Western sea with you. Who’s to say he still has all his limbs—”

“Catrin!” Gwyn gasped, covering her mouth as the image flickered unbidden through her mind. She pushed her tray of food away as nausea curdled in her stomach.

With a huff, Catrin came around the table to throw an arm around Gwyn’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she said, her tone softer than it was before. She rubbed a slow circle over Gwyn’s back. “I don’t mean to make light of what’s happening to him. It’s awful, and I hope the Mother does send someone to help him. I just don’t realistically see how that someone can be you. I’m sure his High Lord is doing everything in his power to bring Azriel back.”

Her eyes began stinging. “Then why…” the words had to fight through her closing throat. “Why can I feel his pain?” Gwyn pressed her heart to her chest, pressing her lips together to smother a sob. “In here. I can… I can feel it.”

Catrin rested her head against Gwyn’s shoulder, holding her close. “Maybe the Mother didn’t want him to be alone.” She brushed some of the hair away from Gwyn’s face and pressed a fierce kiss to her cheek. “Who better than my kind hearted sister to be his companion in the dark?”

-

The darkness of the cell had become a comfort. The darkness was safe. In the dark, Azriel could curl up and pretend he was anywhere else. Pretend he was with his brothers. He could sleep, and listen to the laughter that drifted into his dreams. Warm and sweet and melodic, like honey for the ears.

It was the light that was oppressive. When the cell doors opened he was strapped to the metal table and forced to stare into that too-bright faelight. That was when the agony began shooting through his veins, numbing him to life, to reality, to anything except for blistering pain and the sound of his own roaring.

Azriel laid in the dark now, clinging to it. Gasping against the cold stone, wishing it didn’t feel so much like the icy metal of that Cauldron forsaken table. The sting of it—of the bitter chill in his cell—hardly registered. The blood seeping through his clothes was keeping him warm, anyhow. Until Jurian would come in with a new healing tonic. Azriel had stopped counting water drops and started counting those visits instead.

Eight.

That number was dismal compared to what his High Lord had endured for five decades Under the Mountain. For that reason alone, and a host of so many others, Azriel had never said a word. After the torture began, part of him was no longer capable. He was convinced this was no longer about intel, only sadism. Perhaps punishment, that the High Lord and Lady were able to escape. But he was still alive, and Azriel suspected the King was using him as bait of some kind. Draw the High Lord back, perhaps. Rhysand was a smarter bastard than that.

“Get up.”

Azriel groaned at Jurian’s voice. He hadn’t even heard the grate open.

A moment later, a large hand hauled him into a sitting position. Azriel hissed, too busy fighting back the rush of pain and nausea to do anything more about the manhandling.

“Fuck… you,” Azriel growled, voice so rough he could mistake it for stones scraping together.

“So tough,” Jurian said with a snap of his teeth, forcing the lip of a tonic to Azriel’s mouth. “I’ll be sure to tell your High Lord what a brave male his little Spymaster is.”

Azriel drank the potion greedily, if only because it would provide his mouth with enough moisture to spit in Jurian’s face.

He grunted as Jurian shoved him back to the floor. “I’m trying to help you, you know.”

“Then…” Azriel huffed, straining against his shaking limbs to push himself back up. “Let me… go.”

“I’m getting you out of Hybern today,” he said. “I’m getting us both out. So rest up and hold your tongue.”

The cell door clanged shut and Azriel surrendered his efforts entirely. He slumped back against the floor, panting against the pain that throbbed through his body like a second heartbeat. Today, he thought, tucking the small kernel of hope inside his chest. Right beside that warm, tinkling laughter that embraced him as he fell back into unconsciousness.

-

So maybe an invisibility glamor wasn't an option.

And maybe swimming to Hybern only worked in one direction.

But that didn’t mean Gwyn had exhausted every possibility.

She could enlist the help of someone who could winnow, perhaps. Or she could find a different spell. She’d heard of stones imbued with magic that could transport a person from one place to another… and perhaps she had returned to the library in pursuit of learning where one could find such a stone.

Except there was nothing. Monoliths at the top of sacred mountains, legends of ancient runes, magical artifacts buried by time. Nothing that she could get her hands on in the imminent future. She supposed if that sort of thing were easy to find, it would fall into all sorts of the wrong hands. But it would be very nice of the Mother and her Cauldron if something could fall into her hands for once.

“You had to put him in a castle,” she complained. “A castle on an island.”

There was no one else in the library to overhear. Even so, after a moment’s thought, a flood of guilt washed over her. Gwyn winced and bowed her head. “I’m sure the Cauldron has willed it this way for a reason. But it would be very nice if I could receive some… guidance.”

She couldn’t accept that she was connected to Azriel simply because the Mother didn’t want him to feel alone. If that was the case, the Mother would have given Gwyn an easier method of communicating with him. This purpose was larger, she knew it as readily as she knew her sister’s name.

With renewed determination, Gwyn stood from her chair and abandoned her work table—promising herself she would come back for the stack of books she’d been pouring through.

Even in the daylight, the back of the library was dim. Light filtered out of a single stained glass window that depicted the mother and her Cauldron. It would have been a grander sight if it didn’t illuminate the thick haze of dust that hung in the air. Still, Gwyn settled on the floor before the large map of Pyrthian and stared at the island that the shadows had circled over a week prior. She studied the wall for a long moment, committing every detail to memory. The shape of the shoreline, every forest and mountain range. Then she shut her eyes, picturing that map as she bowed her head and began murmuring a prayer so familiar to her that it came without thought, without disturbing that singular image of an island.

It was meditation as she had practiced a thousand times before, but more focused. She could feel herself reaching inside to that cord in her chest that seemed hyper aware of the Shadowsinger and his shadows. Gwyn imagined it was a rope, tethered on one end to the Sangravah temple and to the other… an ocean away, to a cold, barbaric castle on the shore. She could feel that rope take shape in her hands, the braided cable fitting perfectly into her fist. The fibers bit into her skin when her grip tightened, and she used it to slowly pull herself forward. Out of Sangravah and over an ocean until she could taste the sea spray. The warm, sunbathed floorboards beneath her all at once turned to cold, damp stone. Something sharp and metallic stung her nostrils, and if she listened carefully…

Drip… drip… drip…

Gwyn was so far away from her body, aware of only her fingers on that rope, that she couldn’t figure out how to open her eyes and see the dungeon. Nor could she open her lips to speak. She could only feel, only listen. And slowly, she could feel her toes—how cold they felt, bare against the rock, just like... the rest of her body. So cold and so… numb. Numb to everything except—

With a shriek, Gwyn pressed a frantic hand to her stomach, feeling frantically for the source of the pain so acute that tears were already falling across her cheek. Just like that, the stone, the castle, the rope all fell away and she was catapulted back into her body with a force that nearly knocked her over.

Such pain… such pain that once she was connected with her body, all she could do was curl into herself and sob.

How anyone could endure that—how anyone could be made to endure that… Gwyn was beside herself to think that while she had been waking up in a soft bed, eating warm meals, singing at her daily services, Azriel had been suffering beyond what she could possibly imagine. How could she continue to wear her invoking stone and claim she was devoted to peace and healing if she turned her back on this male?

She laid there, face tucked into her knees, until the sunlight drifting through the windows began to blush. She would have remained longer, had she not felt something tickling her neck. Gwyn turned her head to find a shadow, brushing against her shoulder almost in comfort.

She sniffed, blinking back another bout of fresh tears. “Did you bring a note for me?”

The shadow moved closer, and Gwyn held her breath as it stroked over her face—a whisper of satin—to brush the fresh tears away. It was so peculiar a sensation that for a moment, Gwyn couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response.

“Thank you,” she whispered finally, since it seemed the shadow was acting out of kindness.

The sentience of such a gesture was enough to drag a sense of embarrassment out of her. Gwyn scrambled to sit up, brushing away the rest of her tears herself. Then she looked at the shadow once more, perplexed that there were no other tendrils accompanying it. “So… no note, then?”

Once more, the shadow darted to that map of Prythian. But instead of circling towards that lone island to the West… it moved East. Over ocean and rivers and borders until it circled a location that Gwyn knew well enough.

“The… Autumn Court?”

The shadow moved up and down, almost as though it were nodding. And then it pointed. Right to the marker that Gwyn knew to be the personal home of the High Lord and his family. The Forest House.

“I don’t understand,” Gwyn murmured, pressing her brows together. “You want me to go there?”

Again, the shadow made that strange movement up and down. It reminded her of when she and Catrin used to pull cloth over their hands and pretend they were puppets—though she didn’t dare voice that opinion to the shadow, lest it find the comparison offensive.

“Is Azriel there?”

Gwyn already knew he wasn’t. The Mother had just shown her where he was, still locked away in the depths of Hybern and in terrible, terrible pain. Perhaps sensing she knew the answer, the shadow drifted away from the map. Gwyn lifted her hand, watching with awe as it curled up in her palm, almost like an affectionate pet.

“Thank you,” she said again, though she felt more confused than before. At least now she had a task that was somewhat doable. The Autumn Court was her home court, in a way, though she supposed its current conflict with the Prythian could complicate matters. In any case, it wasn’t an island nor a castle, so she supposed her prayers to the Mother were answered.

Now she just… needed to figure out how to get there.

#A Court of Faded Dreams #ACoFD #You Are Not Alone #Gwynriel #Gwyn x Azriel #Azriel x Gwyn #Gwynriel fic #Gwynriel fanfic #Gwynriel fanfiction

[orphicauroras]

Things I wish to see in the upcoming Gwynriel book

Azriel thinking his shadows are watching him

Meanwhile his shadows watching Gwyn rather than Azriel

Azriel begging his shadows to behave around Gwyn

His shadows whenever they see Gwyn

His shadows seeing Azriel gets outsmarted by Gwyn

Azriel quietly admiring Gwyn and shadows being shadows

Shadows watching their banter

Shadows watching Azriel being weird and awkward around Gwyn

Shadows siding with Gwyn

Yes at this point it's safe to say I love Az's shadows.

#help I'm getting obsessed with Gwynriel and tom and Jerry memes #shadows are the captain of the Gwynriel ship #gwynriel #gwyn berdara #gwyneth berdara #azriel x gwyn #gwyn acosf #gwyn acotar #gwyn #gwyn x azriel #gwyneth x azriel #gwyn x az #a court of silver flames #acosf

[sunshinebingo]

Even Lovers Drown -

Chapter 17

Synopsis: Sirens are known to be merciless creatures who lure their prey with their ethereal voices.

But what happens when Gwyneth, a half Fae half siren, meets someone who is immune to her song? Maybe she doesn’t need it for him to want her.

Read on Ao3

Warning: Blood and violence

Snippet:

It was all happening so fast. One minute, Azriel was sitting in Rhysand’s office with his brothers, giving his latest report and gathering his courage to tell them about Gwyn, and the next, Varian was barging in with an urgent message from Tarquin. Summer was under attack. Autumn soldiers had crossed the border at sunset and were already at the village closest to it. The second after having delivered the news, The Prince of Adriata, who had thought that he could afford a single quiet evening with Amren in Night, was out of the door and winnowing to his court.

Autumn had fooled them all. This attack had either been a rushed decision Beron had made because he had an advantage over them, or one out of desperation after hearing that the other courts had learned of his plans. Perhaps the High Lord of Autumn had decided to launch an attack before the defence against him got too strong. Whichever had prompted this decision, Azriel did not care. Summer, the border, Gwyn, his siren… The whole office started to darken from his shadows expanding around the space. Their frantic whispers mixed with his own thoughts and filled him with a sense of dread.

Tag list (let me of you want to be added/removed): @shadowsxgwynriel @iambutmortal @trashforazriel @hlizr50 @headcanonheadcase @hiimheresworld @freyjas-musings @starfall-spirit @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @sv0430 @wrotethestars

#well... #shit is happening #again #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel shadowsinger #gwynriel fic #gwynriel fanfiction #gwyn x azriel #azriel x gwyn

[aelingalathyniusrailme]

gwynriel appreciation week-day 5

au day

Pirate headcanons

They start out as rival captains of their own ships

Gwyn’s ship is called the silver majesty. gwyn used to work for the crown but went rogue and took her crew with her. She kept the name. But don’t be fooled by it’s cuteness because her crew is as cut throat as they come

what they lack in resources, they make up for in ruthlessness and determination  

Azriel’s ship is called the shadowsinger. His boat is dark as night and if they don’t want to be found, you could scour the entire world and won’t find a damn thing

they are clever and brutal. they do not make mistakes and when they hit, they hit fast and hard 

Gwyn’s first mate is Nesta: the strategist with a grudge. She’s the fire of the group. you do not cross nesta, And her quarter master is Emerie: the responsible rock of the group with a secret vicious side. emerie always has been the most creative. Gwyn is the captain. She won her crew and position through sheer will. Gwyn is the glue that holds them together

Azriel’s first mate is Rhys: he’s cold and calculating. Always thinking, always plotting. And his quarter master is Cassian: he provides the brute force. You need to get rid of someone, cassians your guy, for the right price of course. he is the friendliest of them all. Azriel is the captain: azriel is lethal and quiet. He lets Rhys and Cassian deal with the rest of the crew while he acts as the mysterious captain with secrets for days. He keeps his position because he never fails to provide. Azriel’s got grit and a way of knowing everything that goes around him. 

The silver majesty and The shadowsinger have crossed paths only once before when they both cost each other a job

To gwyn, the shadowsinger is a myth just as the silver majesty is a legend to azriel. Neither knew that they had crossed paths. But they both vowed when they found the ship that ruined that job, they would get revenge.

both respect the other as the second best in the business

Gwyn docks her ship in the summer court. There she takes her crew to a bar. 

they walk in, a bunch of scary ass pirate ladies and everyone turns away, not wanting to draw their attention 

Gwyn walks to the counter with Emerie and Nesta in tow. She asks for a women named Mor. 

Mor is the sweet blonde bar tender. Although she has been known to hear things she shouldn’t and well gwyn may or may not pay for that information 

“What do you got for me blondie” 

“I got a lot of things, depends what you want” mor looked her up and down and smirked. 

“maybe later, you hear anything since the last time we were around?”

“Maybe I have, Maybe I haven’t” 

Gwyn knows to be patient with her, they continue this back and forth for a couple minutes before finally mor mentions she been hearing of possibly the biggest hall they ever came across. but it’s hidden and you need the map to get there. and it is very possible that mor has someone willing to trade for the map. 

I’m just going to cut to the chase, she stalls the buyer (his name is tamlin) with pretty words and false promises while nesta and emerie steal it 

They get back to the silver majesty triumphant and drunk as fuck

But then they realize, the map is blank. Nesta has already pulled out her two katanas and is ready to start slitting throats. specifically tamlin

emerie has yanked her daggers from their sheaths and is halfway out the door

but gwyn holds them off. she examines the map more closely, she has a hunch but she need to meet with another acquaintance first

The silver majesty makes the rough trip to the dreaded spring court. terrible place. truly terrible. said to be haunted. 

They find elain archeron in her manor. it is overgrown with plants but gwyn knows she likes it that way. Elain is a witch but her gifts tend to fall into the prophecy sort. Nesta stays a step behind, refusing to look at her sister. 

“Hello sister, sister’s friends” nesta grits her teeth ready to bite but gwyn hushes her. 

“Witch” 

“Seer” Elain corrects. “Witch has such an awful stigma around it, it’s bad for business. but seer has the perfect balance of ‘I can tell you your future but you shouldn’t fear me’ brings in a lot more people this way.”

“so let me guess, you need my help for a certain treasure I’ve heard about recently” 

“guessing games aren’t fun when you can see the future but yes” 

“ah my dear-”

gwyn cut her off “I am older than you”

“Gwyneth, sweetie, the wise witch persona brings in business” Gwyn refrained from rolling her eyes, out of all the batshit crazy people she had to deal with, her first mate’s sister was by far the worst. 

it didn’t help that they used to date and everything gwyn used to find endearing now pissed her off

Elain brought out a pearlescent ball, she put her hands over it in a dramatic spectacle. Gwyn knew she didn’t actually need the whole get up but Elain lived for the performance so she let it slide. Her eyes began to change, one glowed a bright white while the other was pitch black.

Emerie shifted uncomfortably. She never did like magic. minutes passed before  Elain’s eyes went back to normal and she regained consciousness

“Name your price Seer” 

“I want one day with my sisters”

Nesta snapped to attention. her voice was cold, soft but lethal “did you say sister or sisters”

Elain to her credit did not flinch “yes feyre is here, it was just a happy coincidence that you both came today.” Elain winked. but they all knew nothing was ever a coincidence with the walking oracle. 

Gwyn looked at Nesta. Silently they conversed. Elain waited patiently while Gwyn tried to convince nesta to take the deal. finally they came to a conclusion

“One hour, I will spend one hour with you and her” Feyre was an assassin for the crown. Gwyn didn’t know how someone who murdered for a living could be so righteous but the archeron sisters were something else. The silver majesty spent a lot of time with her before they abandoned post and well feyre and nesta have never gotten along. but the falling out was not pretty. they haven’t spoken since 

“leave the katanas, If I get one hour with my sisters it will not be spent fighting” 

nesta begrudgingly disarmed and handed her legendary swords to emerie. “take care of my babies” 

“not a scratch” emerie said with a mock solute 

....

exactly one hour later nesta came back to the ship alone. Nothing shook her second and yet nesta’s eyes were wide. 

“well what do we need?”

“Not what, who”

“we need a myth. we need a pirate folktale. we need”

“The shadow singer” emerie finished with a whisper. an eeriness spread over the ship at the mention of that name. Shit, they were in such deep shit. 

Honorary headcanon but no scene: gwyn and az get down and dirty on a boat. I’ll let you guys imagine the rest. (though there is a chance I will get back to this and write it out)

#gwynriel #gwynriel week #gwyn berdara #azriel #pirate au

[hlizr50]

A oneshot of a conversation I wish we would’ve received in House of Flame and Shadow.

I’m content to provide in SJM’s absence.

Every Right to Grieve

Read on AO3

THIS FIC CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR HOFAS!!

”You think it hurt you when I flinched? I wanted to peel the skin from my bones, just knowing that he had touched it. Just knowing that you knew that he had.” His mate’s voice crackled, shattered like a fumbled glass against the cool marble floor. Ruhn hated the way her eyes shone, the silver of building tears glittering along her lower lashes. “Knowing that I chose to be with him. I chose to fall into the Hammer’s bed every night.” Her words had grown quiet, like she hadn’t wanted him to actually hear them. And as a single droplet fell onto a flushed cheek, her gaze fell to the floor and she furiously wiped the tear away.

Tags: @headcanonheadcase @mystical-blaise @daevastanner @vikingmagic33 @renxzs @thecrispypotatochip @foreverinelysian @aldbooks @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @freyjas-musings @highladyofillyria @thelovelymadone

#ruhn danaan #lidia cervos #ruhnlidia #lidia x ruhn #ruhn x lidia #crescent city #HOFAS #cc3 #house of flame and shadow #fanfiction #Sarah j maas #SJM #crescent city fanfic

[thebelladonnamoon]

The Secret Language of Flowers | Elucien One Shot

The Secret Language of Flowers on Ao3

A brief, angsty dive into the fan theory that the Cauldron's obsession with Elain is sabotaging her mating bond with Lucien.

---

“Alright…” Lucien gave her a nod, bowing his head as he always did. “If you need anything… anything at all-”

“Thank you,” she cut him off primly, pruning the offer before it could bud any further. “But I’m perfectly fine.”

Or, she would be. Someday. 

Whatever magic that bound them had already sewn seeds so deep within her that she wasn’t sure he could ever be uprooted. Or, that she would ever want to be free of him, despite it all. 

He was the sun and there were times when her desires overtook her propensity for reason. Where Elain felt so withered and shrivelled by the cold, that she wanted nothing more than to drench herself in him, even just to bloom for a single day.

Almost instinctually, her fingers brushed against the warm skin of his and then, she turned back for the house. Her pace quickened with the fluttering of her heart. Every step away from him was like walking into the blackened shadows of winter.

Elain always hated the cold, nothing beautiful ever grew there.

---

Read the full one shot here on Ao3

Thank you to the heavenly @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship for editing and beta reading.

#elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elain x lucien #acotar fic #acotar theory #acotar #sjm