Pro Gwynriel - Blog Posts
Letters of Desperation - Gwynriel
Part 1 - Azriel | AO3 | ACOTAR Masterpost | Masterpost of masterposts |
A/N: My original idea was actually to only write letters for Gwynriel, but I never got around to writing them and got stuck in a Neris rabbit hole instead, so here they are! Also, I know some people are insecure about their freckles but I think they’re absolutely stunning <3
Summary: Azriel's and Gwyn's letters they have been sending to each other over the years throughout their relationship and especially when they're away on missions. A spinoff of the fanfic "Letters Never Sent" by Starfall_Spirit.
Word Count: 366
My precious warrior,
It is starting to become dreadfully boring here without you by my side. Your snarkiness and charm are no match for the Illyrians here. What I wouldn’t do to see them knocked down a peg or two by your ever-witty replies. It would certainly cheer me up a great deal, and shut their mouths.
It is freezing in Illyria, and it is now I realise how much I miss the warmth of the Townhouse. Of home. Of the warmth that radiates from every inch of it, of the calm and peace I feel. But mostly, I miss you, Gwyn. Your teal-blue eyes and how they glitter with mirth at anything I say to you, as if we are in a world of our own, sharing little-known secrets with each other. A moment so intimate nothing will triumph that. Your stunning lips, curved perpetually upwards in a Cupid’s bow. I will spend my entire life worshipping them if I could. Your freckles, how they decorate and frame your face, as if they are small fragments of gifts that Mother Earth has bestowed upon you, as if you are connected to the very ground we walk. As if your face is nothing but the soil, nourishing and enriching. Like the tiniest pieces of the mud and the Earth, as if you are a part of the ground and everything that is holy.
For you are holy, Gwyn. You are a different holiness than any I have experienced. One so sweet and your heart so pure it puts my blackened and charred one to shame. You are the light to my perpetual darkness that I have not managed to drive away in my five centuries of existence. Without knowing, you managed to vanish it all in a heartbeat, and spread kindness wherever it is you go.
These damned bastards could certainly do with some of your kindness. But a part of me screams that there is no way in Hel that I will let you close to these rabid beasts. I am glad that you are safe in Velaris; I am glad that I must be the one to handle Illyria.
I’ll be home soon.
Your eternal love,
Azriel
Part 2 - Gwyneth
Line dividers credit goes to @enchanthings
Night at the Club
AO3 | ACOTAR Masterpost | Masterpost of masterposts |
A/N: Mostly a fluff and comfort fic I wanted to write for myself.
Summary: Azriel and Gwyn have a deep conversation after a brief misunderstanding. Includes descriptions of canon-typical violence and some harsh name-calling (not between Az and Gwyn, I promise).
Word Count: 2118
The music pounded into her skull, and the flashing lights did little to ease her building headache. Nevertheless, Gwyn could feel each beat of the music perfectly synced up with her own heartbeat, and she didn’t mind that at all. No, she had always loved music, be it that of an opera or that of a brothel. The music was equal parts her and she, it; had always been so.
Looking around, she saw Nesta and Emerie thoroughly enjoying themselves on the dance floor, the former with her mate and the latter with Morrigan. Each wore stunning dresses that left little to the imagination, but their eyes seemed to be locked on their respective partners.
It was such a rare moment that they got to spend time with each other because of their schedules and duties for the High Lord. Nights like these were few and far between, when everyone could let loose without worrying about something or the other, and Gwyn didn’t want to take this precious night away from them simply because she had no one to talk to.
They had decided to come to Rita’s tonight after a pleasant evening and dinner at the townhouse, Feyre and Rhys deciding to join them later after Nyx had been put to bed. Nuala and Cerridwen were to watch him tonight. It really did take a village to raise a child, she supposed.
Gwyn didn’t know how she had become part of this strange, and yet wonderful family. She was still getting used to the dynamics of it all: Cassian and Feyre’s easy banter, the love and adoration the High Lord and Lady held for each other and never hid. Thoughts like these tended to make her feel more alone than ever, hence why she was sat at the bar feeling sorry for herself as her sisters-in-arms were having the time of their lives on the dance floor.
She looked quite the opposite of how she felt, however: copper hair flowing in loose waves down her back, glinting in the dim light of the club, the tight emerald dress she wore clinging to her body like a second skin and showing off her generous curves. The golden jewellery Emerie had helped choose for her this afternoon didn’t hurt either, the necklaces and bracelets she donned making her glow like a goddess of the sun.
There had been a time when she hadn’t been able to look at her body without nearly throwing up. A time when she couldn’t stomach anyone looking at her, when all she had wanted to do was fade away into darkness and leave no trace of herself behind. When she had refused to eat, and had refused help because she hadn’t believed she was worthy of it. She had been ready to throw herself into the void and never resurface again.
The Library had helped, in that regard. She no longer felt the need to hide away, and her anxiety had gotten better after she had been exposed to women with similar scars. That didn’t mean she adored her friends any less; not at all. But she had to admit, it did feel nice getting out of the Library occasionally and meeting with people who had flipped her worldview upside down, and then some.
She would forever be thankful to Nesta and Emerie for that. For helping her climb out of that festering hole deep within herself, and giving her a chance to show them who she truly was. A chance for her to heal.
She sighed, and downed the shot glass in front of her, the liquid burning down her throat in a feeling she had come to enjoy. Rhys had insisted that everyone drink tonight, as a thanks for six hundred years of service.
She sometimes forgot how old the High Lord and his brothers were.
Speaking of the High Lord…where was he? Neither Azriel nor Cassian could be seen from where she sat anymore, and panic started to seep into her bones like a steady dose of poison. Breathe, she reminded herself. They wouldn’t have left you like this.
Just as she rose to take a look around, the scent of cedar and wind-chilled mist enveloped her senses.
“Looking for someone?” A deep voice crooned in her ear from behind her.
“No. Well, yes, actually, I was…Well I was looking for-” Gods, what was happening? Gwyn was never this uncoordinated, but being around the shadowsinger seemed to put all her senses on alert and usually tended to turn her into a blubbering idiot.
“Looking for who, Berdara?” Gwyn’s brain nearly short-circuited right then and there. The way he said her name, with that husky deep voice of his…it was enough to make any female go feral. “Was it me?” Gwyn blushed furiously, and she felt more than saw Azriel’s mouth quirk up slightly out of the corner of her eye.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Now, might I know why, exactly, you were looking for me?”
“I…didn’t have anyone to talk to.” Cauldron, the words sounded infinitely more pathetic as she said them out loud. What had prompted her to say that, she had no clue. Azriel hummed noncommittally, and took a seat on the barstool beside Gwyn.
Tonight, his enormous wings cast long shadows on the worn wooden floor, and Gwyn couldn’t help but admire them. A part of her knew she might be acting a bit rude, staring at his wings so outright, but she’d never seen them so up close. Even during training, it was generally Cassian that helped her adjust her stance or correct her movements. Azriel, for some reason that only the Cauldron knew, always stayed a step away; never too close, yet always watching. Watching in that quiet, thoughtful, and utterly maddening way of his that Gwyn had never minded, not a day in her life.
She was drawn out of her ever-saddening thoughts by Azriel gesturing to the bartender with a scarred hand. He came, wiping a wine glass with a filthy cloth that made Gwy nearly gag. Azriel said, “One bourbon shot on the rocks, please.” He looked to Gwyn raising a brow. Want anything? She shook her head, and murmured, “No thank you.” She’d already had quite a bit to drink, and her tolerance for alcohol of any kind was fairly low.
The drink finally arrived, and Gwyn eyed the golden, caramel-coloured liquid swirling in the glass before she looked up at Azriel and said, “You don’t have to stay with me the whole night, you know. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Is that a dismissal, Berdara?” he teased. Despite her, she cracked a small smile. She wouldn’t have Azriel wasting his evening on keeping her pathetic arse company. It was his night too, and he deserved to enjoy it.
“No,” she said. “I just don’t want you to miss out on anything because you’re sitting here keeping me company.” Azriel’s gaze softened, and he said, not tearing his eyes away from her, “Trust me when I say that there is nowhere I’d rather be right now than here with you.”
Gwyn’s heart exploded then, into a million little fireworks. No one had ever said those words to her, and it felt so agonizingly wonderful to hear them from Azriel, of all people. At least until she realized that Azriel had probably had one too many drinks tonight. It had to be the alcohol talking. After all, why would anyone want to be with her, especially after what had happened in Sangravah?
The words those horrific males had said to her while she had lost control of her body still echoed in her mind like poison, even after all these years. The scars and wounds still lingered on the darkest nights when the thoughts of the temple that had once been a haven filled her head.
Azriel seemed to notice Gwyn’s change in mood though, because he turned to look at her with a concerned expression on his face. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?”
“Yeah,” she forced herself to say, and plastered a smile on her face. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired, I suppose. I’ve never been out this long drinking, and I think I’m a bit overwhelmed. I’m going to get some air,” she added, then got up and left the now deafening sounds of the music and the heat that somehow never seemed to lessen, even during Velaris’ winter season.
Sitting down by the docks, she breathed in the briny scent of the Sidra and sighed. Water had always calmed her, even as a child. She supposed it was her river-nymph genes taking control.
✦ ✦ ✦
Azriel sat on the barstool with his glass of whiskey in hand, not quite noticing the flashing lights or giggles around him. His mind was on one thing, and one thing only: what had prompted Gwyn to make such a rushed exit? Was it something he’d said? Guilt began to gnaw at him then, a steady knife to the gut. No matter how much he wanted to go to Gwyn and ask her what was wrong, he knew she needed space, and would talk to him when she’d sorted through her own thoughts.
Azriel sat there for another ten minutes or so, before he got up and made a beeline for the bar door.
✦ ✦ ✦
Gwyn was about get up and make her way home when she heard soft footsteps behind her. Whirling, teal eyes met hazel, and she immediately relaxed. “Hi,” she breathed. Azriel only looked her up and down, assessing her. For injuries? He found nothing amiss though, and instead said softly, “I’m sorry. Whatever it was I said or did.” His brow was scrunched up in concern for her, and immediately, Gwyn’s heart stretched to the point of pain. It was so like Azriel to think that it was his fault, even when it was her own damn heart that needed fixing.
“No. Az, I swear it wasn’t you. Me running out had nothing to do with you.” Azriel still didn’t look convinced though, so Gwyn added lamely, “I just…I have a hard time accepting compliments.”
“Compliments? What-”
“You said you’d rather spend your time with me rather than with your family. Azriel, I-” she swallowed, and tried again. “This was supposed to be a night when you could let loose and relax with your family, not for you to worry about something new.”
“I can’t relax when I know someone isn’t feeling well.”
“I’m fine.” It was the standard response she’d said to everyone at some point, so much so that it had become second nature to her.
“Except you’re not.” Gwyn didn’t quite know how to answer that, so she opted for silence instead, watching the ripples over the inky water.
“Gwyn, please.” Azriel’s voice broke, and she turned to look at him. There was nothing but pain and guilt on that ethereal face of his, and Gwyn felt tears lining her own eyes as he continued, “Please tell me what’s wrong so I can help you. You don’t have to go through this alone. Please.” He whispered the last word, so quietly that Gwyn had to strain her ears to hear it.
Still silent, she gestured to the spot beside her, patting it. Azriel took it as his cue and sat down beside her, legs dangling over the water. Neither said anything for a while, simply observing the city around them. The market squares beginning to wind up, restaurants starting to clean and leave for the night.
Finally, Gwyn murmured, “When I was…In Sangravah, when…” she had to choke back a sob then. She had never said these words out loud to anyone, not even a healer, fearing that it would make them real. “They told me that I was a worthless bitch and all I deserved was…what they were doing. I was called a whore and a fucking cunt more times than I could count. They said I didn’t have any other value and that I should be happy I was…chosen, they called it, for their own personal breeding, like some sort of dog.”
Gwyn couldn’t stop the tears as they flowed then, like a burst dam. Azriel only held her as she collapsed into his arms and sobbed into his shoulder, his muscular arms a warm, steady, and needed comfort. Once she had calmed down a little, he said, “Let’s get you home.” She nodded, lifting her head and wiping her eyes. Azriel picked her up, and shot up into a sky full of stars, the Sidra river a band of inky, black night winding through a stunningly lit Velaris.
Line dividers credit goes to @enchanthings
Drunken Ecstasy
Part 1 | Part 3 | AO3 | ACOTAR Masterpost | Masterpost of masterposts |
A/N: I’m sick and I wanted to write something fluffy but I also didn’t wanna start a new fic (also I haven’t read over this at all, apologies for anything that sounds weird. Just pretend the typos don't exist)
Word Count: 2072
The sounds of the kitchen filled Azriel’s heart with delight. The exhaust whirring, the whisk clanking rhythmically against the bowl he now held in his hand. To be able to enjoy a calm, peaceful morning with Gwyn was something he never thought he’d get to experience.
Right now, she was fast asleep in their bed. Azriel, having woken, as usual, at the crack of dawn, had decided to get up and make her breakfast. It was the least she deserved. And besides, cooking was something he’d always enjoyed. He normally didn’t have time for it, but he was more than ready to make time to cook something if it meant that Gwyn got a fresh, warm breakfast served in bed. He couldn’t wait to see the smile light up her face as he brought her a tray of all her favourite foods.
As he poured the eggs on the pan with a satisfying sizzle, he sighed in contentment. The curtains were blown wide open, revealing open, cloudless skies that looked to be the perfect weather for flying, or simply taking a stroll through the city. Indeed, he could already hear the faint murmuring of voices in the Palaces of Velaris down below, the people spread out through the City of Starlight like an ever-shifting mosaic full of light and colour. It made his heart bloom, watching upon his city, his people like this. It was rare Azriel ever got calm mornings like this, but when he did, he made sure to relish them in all their glory.
With a jolt, he realised he’d left the eggs on the stove. His inner ramblings cut short, he hurried to check on them. Everything had to be perfect.
✦ ✦ ✦
The soft click of the door roused Gwyn from her slumber. Blearily opening an eye, she glanced up to see Azriel entering her room with a tray loaded full of food. Her sleep-addled brain couldn’t register anything right now. “Az?” she mumbled, her voice slightly husky with disuse throughout the night. “Good morning, love,” came his answer as he set the tray on the table beside her.
Even as he tried to look away from her ethereal face, he couldn’t. Copper hair tousled with sleep and flowing down her back in waves and her freckles alight, she looked like the sun personified. Day would suit her beautifully.
Her cheeks were tinged pink from the warmth, and she looked so…happy. It thawed Azriel’s heart to know that was satisfied; content.
Slowly, she rose, stretching her arms above her head like a cat.
“How long have I been out for?” she asked, blinking. Azriel only smiled, a faint, lovely thing of such exquisite beauty it made Gwyn’s heart light up. “Half the day.”
Horror filled her, and she straightened immediately. “What?” He only laughed at that. “Calm down. It’s a Saturday. No training, no chores, no going to the Library. Just a day for you. For us.”
“For us,” she said softly. “I never thought-” she sighed. “I didn’t think I’d get to say that with anyone.”
Leaving his vigil by the tray, he came closer and enveloped Gwyn in a hug that smelled of cedarwood and something that reminded her of a night-chilled mist. She reciprocated immediately, arms going around his waist as he burrowed her head further into his midsection.
They stayed like that for a while, until Gwyn broke the hug, looking up at him, even as her hands were still wound tightly round his waist. “Come sit with me?” she asked quietly, quiet adoration filtering through her words. He only hummed in response, obliging, and let go of Gwyn long enough to climb into bed and sit up against the headboard. Without a word, he enveloped them in the half-warm covers, as his wing came up to settle around Gwyn. As if her body were made for it, she leaned her head on Azriel’s shoulder.
The sun streamed in through the half-open curtains and making his wings glow with an iridescence only the sunlight could bring. Indeed, the room, too, was glowing with the sunlight, as it reflected off a mirror and set small shards and fractals of the morning light scattering around the room.
Nearby, Azriel’s shadows danced lazily, weaving in and out of each other as if they were part of a orchestra only they were privy to. Shimmering in a way that reminded her of a calm, quiet, darkness, she watched them with fascination. Not once had she been scared of them. Awed. Yes, that was what she’d been. Intrigued by the odd beings that seemed to be as much a part of Azriel as he was of them. A kind, loving, male.
A man of actions, Gwyn had realised early on. Making her breakfast, spending the night with her…it was his way of showing love. She’d never had a need for honeyed words and poetry anyways. So long as she had someone by her side, she’d be content.
“Gwyn,” he said softly, breaking the quiet, tentative silence. “I think we should…” He clared his throat. “You know, about last night.” She’d been dreading this. This conversation, that would make or break whatever odd sort of purgatory they’d been in. She’d lose him at the end of this, she knew it. Whatever drunken confessions they’d both made to each other last night didn’t mean anything now that they were sober. How naive could she be, believing the first drunken, half-hearted confession she’d heard?
“Yes. We should,” came her reply, with a bite to it she had not intended. If Azriel noticed, eh did not let on, but instead ploughed on. “We’re mates,” he said quietly, as if he could not believe it himself.
Gwyn had suspected as much for a while, but had promptly decided to keep her mouth shut. No matter what, she was not entitled to Azriel, and he had no moral obligation to be with her. “Yes, we are.”
“You have nothing more to say?” She could tell Azriel wasn’t quite sure how to handle this…situation. Well then, that made two of them.
“I…” I love you. I’ve loved you from a distance ever since that day in Sangravah. Those hazel eyes, that stunning face, and you quick, dry wit…I’ve been in love with you the moment you stepped into my life. I couldn’t get you out of my head for months. I still can’t. You were all I dreamed about, all that played in my head. But I can’t tell you this. Any of it. You’ll realise just how much of a psychopath I am, and then you won’t want me. You probably don’t even want me now. This was a mistake, she thought to herself, chastising and scolding. A great, big, stupid, grand mistake. If you hadn’t let your lust get the better of you for, like, two seconds you wouldn’t be in here right now.
She could see how much her histaton was hurting Azriel, could see the worry in his eyes, clear as day.
“Are you disappointed?” she asked quietly, refusing to make eye contact with him. “That I’m your mate?”
“No. Gwyn, never. I could never be disappointed.” Even without looking at him, she could tell it was a blatant lie. How noble of him, to let her down so gracefully. But she was past that. She was burning as she fell, deeper and deeper into the ever-growing void that were his hazel and caramel eyes.
“You don’t have to lie, you know,” she murmured. “I can take it.”
“I’m not-” his voice cracked. “I swear I’m not lying to you.”
“Really?” she asked, not believing him at all.
“Yes,” he said simply. “Why would I lie about something like this?”
“It’s not that-,” she said hastily. “It’s just that…well, I didn’t think anyone would be interested in me like that.” With each word, her voice grew softer, and she looked down at her hands, still tucked in the warmth of the blanket. At Azriel’s lack of response, she shuffled away from him, curling up with the blanket over her herself. Before Gwyn could get too deep into her own head, Azriel stopped her with a light hand on her wrist.
“Gwyn,” he said softly. No reply. “Gwyn,” he tried again. “Please look at me.”
If it weren’t for his Fae hearing, he would have missed the slight sniffle that Gwyn had tried to conceal.
Realising she wouldn’t get up now that she was crying, Azriel lay down with her instead, tangling his legs with hers and draping a muscled, tattooed arm around her waist. His wing followed suit, and he tucked her into his side. “Gwyn, love,” he started. “I know that it feels like I don’t want the bond, and I can only imagine the devastation you must be feeling. So let me make one thing very clear: I want you as my mate. I want you, Gwyn. However long it takes for you, I am willing to wait for you. It’s worth it. You are worth the wait, Gwyn, and I’ll go at whatever pace you want me to.”
He felt Gwyn shudder as fresh sobs wracked her body anew. Lightly stroking a hand through her hair, Azriel pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “I’m here with you. Whatever you want to do, I’m here with you, and I’ll support your decision.”
“Even if it means that we won’t be mated?” came her soft, near indiscernible reply. At her words, Azriel’s heart gave a lurch, but he managed to keep his voice steady, if only for her sake. “Yes.” No matter how much he was hurting, it was Gwyn’s decision in the end.
“Well, too bad. It looks like you’re going to be stuck with me for the rest of your immortal existence.” It took Azriel a minute for the words to fully sink in, but when they did, he stiffened. “You’re sure?” he whispered, his eyes blown wide with shock and awe. To think that Gwyn, wonderful, radiant, stunning Gwyn wanted to spend her life with him was a dream come true. More than a dream. It felt like paradise, and Azriel nearly pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t actually dreaming.
“Yes, Azriel. The only reason I hadn’t made any advances was because I didn’t want to put..whatever our relationship was at stake and sacrifice it for some girlish crush I had. I didn’t think you reciprocated my feelings. You were only ever professional in the training ring, and I didn’t want you to get the wrong message. Besides, you’d never shown any real interest in me until last night and, well-” She cut herself off, taking a deep breath. “Well, I didn’t want to come off as desperate.”
Azriel’s mind was reeling. He’d been utterly professional with her because he thought she couldn’t stand another male’s touch after what had transpired in Sangravah. In reality, he’d have taken her in the ring itself if she’d-
“Can you face me, love?” he asked instead. Nodding, she turned, and placed a hand on his heart as she looked up at him. “I love you,” she whispered. Azriel only pulled her in, wrapping his arms even tighter around her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, my little Valkyrie.”
You know,” Gwyn started. “If we’ve decided that we want to be mates…maybe we should seal the bond.”
“You’re sure?” She only hummed in response, leaning over Azriel to get a piece of fresh bacon that he’d grilled. “Open,” she murmured, and Azriel had never thought a simple strip of bacon could taste so delicious. Closing his eyes, he chewed, and let the flavours wash over his tongue in a perfect symphony.
Azriel did the same, instead feeding Gwyn a bite of a sausage. “I think I’m ready,” she said softly. “To, you know, actually be in a relationship.”
“Yeah?” he asked tentatively, a small smile playing on his lips as he looked into her eyes. Such crystalline, perfect eyes, full of depth and curiosity and longing. To know that he’d have her by his side for all eternity was nothing short of bliss. “Yeah,” she echoed, tears lining her own eyes.
At her words, his eyes hazel eyes darkened, glowing with mirth, as he leaned forward to whisper, “Well, then, Priestess, it looks like we’re going for round two.”
Part 4
Line dividers credit goes to @enchanthings
Drunken Ecstasy
Part 1 | Part 2 | AO3 | ACOTAR Masterpost | Masterpost of masterposts |
A/N: This is my first time writing smut and a oneshot this long (please don’t come at me if it isn’t perfect. Constructive criticism is fine but if you’re just going to be mean please don’t and keep scrolling.) If you have any tips or if something doesn’t sound right, there are typos, or anything you’d like to see, comment down here and I’ll see what I can do! Includes p in v smut, org@sm den!al, mutual m@sturbation, v@ginal f!ngering, and drunk sex Also tysm to my beta for reading through this, I love you
Word Count: 3915
Azriel had endured many different types of torture in his life; from his early years in his father’s cell to spending fifty years without Rhys after that bitch Amarantha had wrecked Prythian.
Holding Gwyn when flying her, however, was a different kind of torture that threatened to shatter any shred of self-control he’d been trying his best to build up these past few years.
There was a rational and collected part of him, the part that prevailed when it came to decision-making, that told him spending the night with a female he’d pining over for years now was a terrible idea and would only end up in more trouble than it was worth. His heart, however, couldn’t resist having Gwyn so close to him and not being able to touch her. It had no intention of simply leaving Gwyn by her front door and then going back home. No, he intended to do a lot many things to her, starting with that gods-damned gown.
As he set Gwyn down on the balcony of the House of Wind, Azriel said into her ear, “Take off your heels. You won’t be able to walk in them when you’re that drunk.” Rolling her eyes, Gwyn obeyed, kicking off her heels, the glimmering heels landing somewhere in the living room.
As she made to walk to her room on wobbly legs, Azriel stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. “I’m walking you to your room. You’re not going anywhere alone.” She halted.
“I’m fine,” she said waving a hand. “I can walk to my own room.”
“Not when you’re this drunk, you can’t,” he countered, not letting himself cross his arms over his chest lest she fall over.
She huffed in annoyance, and just as Azriel had suspected, she took a step forward and collapsed into his arms, groaning loudly. A bout of nausea had overtaken her.
“Azriel,” she whined, throwing her head back. “My head hurts so bad. Make it stop.” He resisted the urge to tell her that she should have at least eaten something before she’d decided to get absolutely wasted.
Azriel would never stop Gwyn from doing whatever it was she wanted, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to be getting a long lecture from him once she was sober enough to figure out her left from her right.
At her words though, he winnowed them straight to her room, not bothering to carry her up the stairs.
As he cracked open the door to her bedroom, her scent overwhelmed his senses to the point where he couldn’t breathe. He just stood there like a madman, waiting until wave after wave of her scent washed over him. Azriel inhaled deeply, his body acting on instinct to try to get the female’s scent into his body, his bones, his blood.
“Are you going to stand there all night or can I go to sleep?” Gwyn muttered, her face squashed against Azriel’s shoulder.
Somehow, Azriel’s body managed to get a semblance of normalcy in him, and he carefully guided Gwyn inside her room.
Even through the haze, he could still make out that the room was tastefully decorated, with bookshelves along one side and an armoire on the other. The attached bathing chamber was deeper into the room, that much he knew. He set Gwyn down on the edge of the bed, making sure she wouldn’t topple over as he did so. Turning to make his way out, she called to him, albeit drunkenly, “Az.” He stopped, his hand reaching for the doorknob. “Stay.”
He swallowed. “I…really shouldn’t.” He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop if he spent the night here, and Gwyn wasn’t in any state to have a go with him. He didn’t want his first night with her to be a drunken one-night stand. It wasn’t fair to Gwyn, or to him.
“Shouldn’t, or won’t?” Came her question.
“Gods, Gwyn.” He ran a hand over his face. “Of course I want to stay with you, I just…”
“I’ll keep my hands to myself if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said slyly, those red-painted lips curling up in a smirk. Some dark part of him wanted to see exactly what she could do with those lips. How they would taste, what noises she’d make.
Azriel swallowed, running his hands through his already mussed hair. His string of self-control was pulled so taut it was fraying at the edges. It was honestly a miracle it hadn’t snapped yet.
He noticed Gwyn looking at him, watching the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he spoke, and her pupils dilated. He could almost hear every depraved thought going through her mind as she blushed lightly. He sauntered up to her and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Like what you see, Valkyrie?”
An involuntary whimper escaped her, and he didn’t miss the way she subtly drew her thighs together.
A normal male wouldn’t have noticed her slight tell. But Azriel was not a normal male, not by any definition, and certainly not when it came to noticing things about the female he’d been interested in. There was a reason he was Spymaster of the Night Court, why Fae trembled when they heard his name.
“I’m not the only one, it seems,” came her reply, though her voice shook slightly. Azriel could tell she was fighting her desire just as much as he was, and he’d never wanted to bed a female as badly as he wanted to now.
“Observant,” he murmured, and ran a finger through her delicately styled auburn locks. How would they feel when he was tugging at her hair, thrusting into her as he-
“What else have you noticed?”
Gwyn answered without a scrap of hesitation. “You want me just as badly as I want you.” Her teal eyes locked with his, and he felt every drop of blood flow down to his cock.
“Don’t act so surprised, Shadowsinger,” she cooed, and ran a nail down the sleeve of his intricately crafted shirt. “I know what you’re thinking.”
She rose then, albeit on shaky legs, and placed her hand over his beating heart. “You want me bent over this bed as you fuck me, don’t you? You want to watch me as I milk you dry.”
It took nothing short of a miracle for Azriel to stifle a whimper. “Just because I want to doesn’t mean we should.” His voice came out far raspier than he’d intended, and Gwyn’s stunning sea-green eyes darkened further as his tone. “I want to Gwyn, I really do. What I mean is that you’re drunk and about two seconds away from collapsing entirely. It’s not fair to either of us if I take you like this.”
“Pity,” she tsked, ignoring him completely as her hand began trailing south, her nails ghosting over his abs. “I had so many plans for us tonight, Shadowsinger. First, you’d sit on this bed while I rode you. Hard. Next, you’d have your mouth on me as I came on your-”
Azriel didn’t give Gwyn a chance to finish as he kissed her, wrapping a scarred hand around the nape of her neck. The kiss engulfed her, engulfed them in so much heat he was sure he’d burn right with her. Dragging his mouth from hers with great difficulty, he pressed a chaste kiss to the side of her throat before sucking and leaving a mark. “This is so that everyone knows who you’ve been doing tonight.” Gwyn honestly didn’t think that these were the words she’d be turned on by, and she whined, a small helpless sound that had Azriel’s blood flowing straight downwards.
She hooked a leg around his waist then, clearly just as eager as he was. Azriel had to break away, coming up for air as their kisses turned sloppy before he began ravishing her mouth again. He practically had his tongue down her throat at this point as she moaned around him. But he couldn’t care less. He needed to taste her and memorize her body, what sounds she made and how she felt under him, how she threw her head back in pleasure as he bent down and continued his attack on her throat.
He tapped her thigh twice. Jump. She took her cue and hopped up into his arms while he held her thighs in place and continued kissing her.
It was then Gwyn realized she was in the perfect position to bring Azriel pleasure. She ground on him, her clothed pussy rubbing his cock perfectly, causing just the right amount of friction. He groaned, a rich, deep sound that brought Gwyn immense amounts of pleasure. It was now her new goal to see how many ways she could drag that sound from him in one night.
She didn’t realize Azriel had been moving them steadily backwards until her back hit the bed, and gentle, scarred hands were lowering her onto the bed covered in pristine, opaline sheets.
Now it was her turn to be speechless as Azriel looked up at her from where he kneeled. The sight of him kneeling before her like that in those sinful black leathers, like an angel of death, ready to devour her…it brought her far too much pleasure than what would be considered healthy.
“How do you want me, Valkyrie?”
“Like this,” she breathed. It was true. She couldn’t think of a better position she wanted him in, save for him inside of her and fucking her like there was no tomorrow.
Azriel grinned, and obliged her command, damn near ripping her dress off in desperation. He needed to see her, taste her, smell her.
She felt fireworks erupt as he put his mouth on her. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped then, and threw her head back in ecstasy. Desperately she grasped at his hair, needing his tongue on her. She tangled her fingers in his hair, knowing it would be mussed in that delightful way that drove her mad. Gwyn felt him smile against her, his canines coming to nip gently at her pulsing clit. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her breath hitched. Sucking and nipping at her cunt like a starved man, the obscene sounds only turned her on more. That of course, only made Azriel smile wider, and he licked a strip clean up her centre, causing Gwyn to moan again. And stopped. “Please,” she whined. “Azriel, stop teasing.”
But Azriel didn’t listen, instead kissing his way up her thighs, stopping just before that spot that he knew would drive her feral. Gwyn bucked her hips up in protest, trying to get as much friction as possible, but Azriel held her thighs down. “Patience, my Valkyrie.” Gwyn merely responded with a whine, and he resumed his journey up her thighs, kissing and biting leaving small marks for her to find days after this.
“I can’t take any more teasing,” she managed to get out. “Azriel, please.” At long last, he relented, and said, “As you wish, Priestess.” Without warning her, he slipped his tongue inside her, and Gwyn didn’t think she’d felt pleasure like this at all. Those sleepless nights when she’d tried to bring herself to orgasm were nothing in comparison to him working her expertly like this, and she moaned again. She felt it then, a growing pressure building up.
He alternated between his tongue inside her and on her, and it was that perfect combination that had her approaching her climax quicker than ever. It didn’t help that his calloused hands gripped her thighs perfectly as he ravished her, she tried to close them, but Azriel held firm, and held them open. “So perfect,” he muttered, his voice muffled by her thighs, and continued his attack. “You clench around me so tightly, Gwyn.” That only made her clench around his fingers harder, and Azriel chuckled, clearly knowing what effect his words had on her.
And yet Gwyn climbed steadily, getting closer and closer to that point where she’d be too far gone to even comprehend what was around her. Azriel must have realized, because his thrusts became faster, harder, and he fucked her deeper as she quivered around him.
“Az-Az I’m-”
“Let go, love.” That deep, husky voice of his was all she needed, and it sent her over the edge as she came with a cry, her thighs shuddering as her body went into a state of euphoria.
Azriel pumped her through it all, his fingers never faltering, never stopping.
Once she came back to Earth, she heard him say, “Gods, Gwyn.” His chin was dripping her glistening juices and the unholy sight nearly made her want to orgasm again, her pussy clenching around nothing. “You taste absolutely divine.” His words made her blush even harder, but before she could get a word out or even make a move to sit up, Azriel beat her to it. “Oh I’m not finished with you yet, Berdara.”
Climbing on top of the bed to hover over her, his forearms braced beside her head, he whispered into her ear, “Is this how those filthy fantasies of yours are, Gwyn? Is this how I take you?” Her eyes widened at that, and he snickered. “Don’t think I don’t know what the three of you are doing here at the House of Wind under the pretense of your little ‘book clubs’. My little priestess, perhaps not so innocent after all,” he finished as his eyes landed on her lips.
He kept his eyes on her, even as he began undressing himself, and Gwyn couldn’t help her traitorous eyes as they roved over every inch of him, trying to drink it all in. He positioned himself above her again, stilling at her entrance. Even now, he was still giving her a chance to say no, to pull away. But Gwyn needed him, needed him now. “Yes.” What she’d meant to come out as a command came out as more of a plea.
She thought he’d thrust in fully, but it came as a disappointment as he only put his tip in, making her even more desperate for more of him. “Are you sure about this?” he asked one last time, his voice infinitely soft. “Yes,” she complained. “Now hurry up.”
He hummed at that. “Impatient, I see.”
And did nothing. Gwyn’s patience was wearing thin. “Azriel, if you don’t fuck me now I’m going to do it myself.”
He withdrew at that, and sat on his heels as he watched Gwyn sprawled out before him, helpless and needy with hooded eyes full of lust, her chest heaving with anticipation. “Alright.” Gwyn started. “What the hell do you mean, ‘alright?’”
He smirked, knowing damn well what he was doing. “I mean, I’m going to sit in that chair over there and watch as you fuck yourself. You said you wanted to do it,” he said as she frowned, “so here you go. A perfect opportunity. You can get yourself off while I watch you.”
Gwyn felt the warmth leeching from her body as he moved away to sit on her wooden chair. His scent would be covered in it afterwards, and she blushed at the thought of it.
“What are you waiting for?” His voice cut through her thoughts, sharp as a velvet-coated blade, and she straightened. “Go on,” he coaxed. “Get yourself off like I know you do every night.”
Huffing, she lay down properly, positioning herself, and trailed a hand down her breasts, fondling each one in turn. When she got bored of that, she pinched her nipple, and threw her head back in a moan, eyes fluttering shut. “Azriel,” she whined. “Keep going,” came his gravelly voice, made even rougher by the fact that his dick was becoming harder with every passing second. It only encouraged Gwyn further though, as she trailed the same hand down to her stomach, her hips. Lower.
Stupid. He was so stupid. He should have bedded her when he had the chance, and now he had to face the consequences of his own actions as she watched Gwyn work herself into a frenzy.
It was nothing short of sinful, something he delighted in, but that didn’t make it any easier to keep his instincts at bay. Instincts that were screaming at him to fuck her now.
She circled her clit a couple of times, her hips bucking up to meet her hand. When she couldn’t possibly tease herself any longer, she dipped a finger inside of herself, whimpering at the feeling. Slowly, she started moving, and rolled her hips. Azriel stared, transfixed, his hazel eyes focused on every inch of her, how her breasts bobbed with each thrust, how she turned pink when she orgasmed, how her face scrunched up so beautifully just before she came. He looked at her like he’d never seen anything so divine. And perhaps he hadn’t, Azriel thought as his gaze raked over her face, scrunched up in concentration as she worked herself into a frenzy.
He couldn’t help it then, and began pumping himself as he watched her. One day. One day, he’d have Gwyn on her knees, her mouth stuffed full with his cock as she gagged. One day, he’d carry out every fantasy in his mind with her.
Gwyn trembled again, her moans increasing in frequency, and suddenly found Azriel on top of her. When he’d had the chance to climb atop Gwyn, she had no idea. “The next time you come is going to be on my cock. And besides, you’re nowhere near satisfied, are you? My sweet, greedy, seductress.”
She nodded frantically, wanting so badly to listen to Azriel as her body reacted to him. Grinning, he leaned down to whisper, “Good. Because you’re going to take it.”
Every so slowly, he slipped inside of her, and Gwyn thought she’d never been filled so deeply as Azriel did. Eventually, he bottomed out, and let Gwyn adjust. “You’re-” she cut herself off with a moan. “It’s so amazing.”
“I’m glad you think so, Valkyrie,” came his deep, sex-addled voice.
“Gods, Az, you’re so big.” His pride couldn’t help but swell at that, and he chuckled, the sound dark and full of mischief that skittered across Gwyn’s spine and made her clench around him. Azriel let out a strangled moan at that, and Gwyn frowned slightly. She’d come undone under him twice. She needed to hear all of him too. “Now, Az,” she tsked, though her voice came out breathless. “That simply won’t do.” She raked her nails down his sculpted pectorals, over those stunning Illyrian tattoos. Not hard enough to injure, but hard enough that she knew it drove most males insane. Just as expected, he shuddered, his eyes fluttering closed. “I need to hear all of you, Shadowsinger.”
When Azriel didn’t relent, she had an idea. An idea involving those glorious wings of his. Well then. It was time to see if the rumours about the Illyrians’ wings being sensitive were true. Ever so slowly, she reached up and brushed a fingernail along the delicate membrane. She felt Azriel twitch inside her, and he let out a strangled moan. “Gwyn-”
She cut him off with another stroke to his wing, this time adding a second finger. His eyes fluttered shut, and he buried his head in the crook of her neck. “Come on, Shadowsinger,” she coaxed, her voice honeyed and delicate. “I need to hear you.”
It was those words that made Azriel start moving, both of their moans increasing in volume.
He hit that one spot inside her that made her see stars, and her copper hair, unbound and free-flowing that had become a mess fell over her shoulder. She knew Azriel was watching; watching every move she made, every movement that she had no control over, every whimper she let out. Eventually, she felt Azirel’s thrusts getting sloppier as he approached his climax too.
“Oh God,” she moaned, her back arching off the bed as Azriel hit a spot so deep in her she swore she felt him in her stomach. “God can’t help you now sweetheart,” Azriel panted as he thrust into her harder at her words.
Azriel’s normally well-kept hair was now tousled and messy, the strands falling into his face as he pounded into her. Gwyn wasn’t in a better state either: her carefully arranged hair now flowed around them like a waterfall of molten flame, her painted lips now swollen and full.
The obscene sounds of Azriel pounding into her only turned her on even more, and she knew what Azriel would say when she told him. My little minx. So greedy. She supposed it was partially her doing too, seeing as she kept stroking that spot on his wings, the one she had learned made him lose any semblance of control.
The only warning Azriel gave before he came inside her was a desperate “Gwyn,” and as he shot hot ropes of cum into her, she knew then that she’d be happy to die like this. From Azriel, the thought of him, the scent of him, of Azriel fucking her into oblivion like there was no tomorrow. But she also knew that he’d take care of her, and put her needs before anything else. Not even a couple of seconds later, she clenched around his cock and came too. They both rode out their highs, neither willing to stop.
She finally came down from what could only be called an astronomical experience, lying spent and exhausted, her body covered in a sheen of sweat, quite literally unable to move a limb. “Gwyn,” Azriel said softly from the other side of the bed. She could only groan in response as she lay flat on her stomach, her face turned towards Azriel. What he’d made her feel tonight, how he had treated her…she didn’t have the words for it. He still had her speechless, it seemed, and Azriel seemed to be thinking of the same thing as he asked teasingly, “Have you been so deeply consumed by passion that you can no longer deign to even look at your lover, Gwyn?” Her eyes flew open at that, the half-lidded exhaustion and pleasure having disappeared like dew on a warm summer morning. Was that what they were now? Lovers?
Azriel however, seemed to be taking her shock the wrong way. “Oh Cauldron, I don’t even know why I said that. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung something on you like this, I’m sorry-” She cut him off with a kiss to his lips. “Shut up,” she murmured, and looked into those hazel eyes she had come to love. “Don’t be sorry. I’ve wanted you for so long. I just didn’t say anything because I didn’t think you’d feel the same.” Azriel let out a small chuckle at that, and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in closer. “We were so stupid,” he whispered into her ear. “And so oblivious.”
“Mhm,” she hummed as her eyes started to close, sleep threatening to overtake her. “We’ll talk tomorrow.” Azriel’s lips quirked up into a smile, showing her those dimples she loved so dearly. He lay down with her, pulling the blankets over the both of them. “Tomorrow,” he echoed.
They fell asleep that night, curled up with their arms wrapped around each other; the mating bond a silent witness to their love, glowing and warm in the early morning dawn.
A/N: Notes: Ain’t no way I wrote almost 4k words of smut…HELP
Part 3
Line dividers credit goes to @enchanthings
Drunken Ecstasy
Part 1 | AO3 | ACOTAR Masterpost | Masterpost of masterposts |
Summary: A night out at the club causes Gwyn and Az to make some drunken decisions (aka Azriel gets possessive when he sees drunk Gwyn at Rita's). Mostly just fluff and our favourite couple flirting <3
Word Count: 887
Rita’s had begun to become Gwyn’s favourite place. The loud noises and copious amounts of people had once been things the female had dreaded, but now found comfort in the people dancing and bright faelights burning throughout the establishment.
Gwyn didn’t notice any of her surroundings, though. She was far too occupied downing what she thought was her fourth...or sixth shot glass. She’d lost count a while ago, and to be honest, she really didn’t care right now. It wasn’t often Gwyn managed to muster up the courage to drink, let alone so much. Instead of worrying and fretting about things constantly, as she tended to do, she had let herself loose tonight.
Noticing that her friends were nowhere to be seen, she took it that they’d made their way to the dance floor. Slamming her glass down onto the countertop and sighing, she got up, and her vision swam immediately. Ignoring the headache now starting to build, she staggered over towards the last booth, designated for the High Lord and his family, where she knew at least one person was to be sober.
She was expecting literally anyone to be in that booth. Quite literally anyone but Azriel, that was. As she locked eyes with him, she immediately felt heat pooling between her legs.
“Azriel,” she giggled, leaning over the bench. “You’re soooo tall.”
He hummed, the barest hints of a frown beginning to show on his face. Simply standing up from where he lounged, he looked down at her. “How much have you had to drink?” Her brow furrowed in confusion. Why did that matter?
“How much have you had to drink, sweetheart?” he asked her again, tilting her chin upwards to look him in the eyes with a scarred finger.
“I don’t know,” she replied, her words slurring. “Two glasses of wine and a shot of whiskey, maybe?” Azriel’s eyes narrowed, as if sensing the lie.
“I think it’s time we get you home.”
“But why? I’m having such a great time with Emerie and Nesta.” Drinking made her a terrible liar, as she’d found out that first night she’d come here with her sister-in-arms.
Ignoring her statement completely, Azriel asked, “What’s your last name?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, still quite giddy. “Whatever yours is.” Normally, Azriel would have laughed, but he’d seen how some males had been eyeing Gwyn like she was a piece of meat ready to be devoured. It made his blood boil, and had taken enormous amounts of self-restraint to not slit their throats.
He knew Gwyn didn’t need protecting; she was a warrior in her own right who could rip Rita’s down any minute she wanted. Any minute she was sober, at least. Even then, he hadn’t been able to truly relax this evening, seeing as Gwyn wasn’t in his direct line of sight. He’d sent his shadows after her, but somehow that wasn’t enough.
“We’re leaving,” he said, this time with no room for objection. “Now.”
“Azriel,” she whined, placing a hand on his chest as he made to move away. “I want to stay. Please?” She drew the last word out and looked up at him with wide eyes. He huffed in annoyance, and said to her, “You know those little tricks don’t work on me, sweetheart. You’re going to have to come up with a more creative way of persuading me.” He picked her up easily, carrying her bridal style, and made his way out of the throng of bodies that were undulating in time to the music, the scent of sweat and sweet perfume heavy in the air.
Once they were outside the club, he set her down again and allowed her to regain her balance. Alcohol made anyone dizzy and disoriented, especially faerie wine.
Rather than orient herself, though, she took a shaky step towards him and placed a light hand on his chest. “Come to my place tonight?”
Azriel nearly fell to his knees right then and there. The sight of Gwyn looking up at him with those doe eyes, that sinful dress hugging her body and her hair done up so beautifully…he was going to go mad. Completely and utterly mad.
With barely restrained desire, he at least managed to choke out, “You’re drunk, Gwyn. I don’t want you doing anything you’ll regret tomorrow.”
She frowned, (quite adorably, too, he thought to himself,) and said, “Being with you isn’t something I’ll ever regret.” Azriel thought his heart might have shattered then. It was equal parts soothing as it was agonizing to hear Gwyn saying those words. He might have believed her had she been sober, but right now? Gwyn was in no state to make sense to anybody. She needed to sleep off the wine, preferably as soon as possible, and hopefully her hangover wouldn’t be too bad the next morning.
As Azriel made to step away, she placed a light arm on his bicep. Not possessive, but light enough for him to decide if he wanted to stay or leave.
“Come on,” he muttered. “I’ll drop you off at your apartment, but no further than the door.” Gwyn however, seemed to be satisfied with that, and gave him a drunken nod as Azriel picked her up and flew them through the night sky, the stars shining bright above them.
A/N: I made this a fluffy ending so if someone doesn’t want to read smut they can stop here.
Part 2
Line dividers credit goes to @enchanthings
ACOTAR Masterpost
A collection of my ACOTAR fics is here (in progress) and on AO3. I'm updating as I write, so it'll be a while before this masterpost is 'complete'.
If you find something that is inappropriately tagged or if you find something missing, please DM me and I'll fix it. Requests and asks are open, so feel free to message me if you'd like to see something in particular. I can't promise a time frame for when I'll get the requests done (or if I will at all) so please be patient with me! If there's something I can't do for whatever reason, I'll let you know.
Enjoy!
💖 - fluff
❤️ - smut
💔 - angst
GWYNRIEL - SERIES
Drunken Ecstasy 💖❤️| AO3 | Total Word Count: 14,696 | A night out at the club causes Gwyn and Az to make some drunken decisions (aka Azriel gets possessive when he sees drunk Gwyn at Rita's)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |
Wedding Playlist
Missed Chances and Stolen Glances💖| AO3 | Total Word Count: 11,625 | Modern AU where Azriel is failing high school Spanish. The problem is, he can't graduate with a failing grade in his senior year. Who better to tutor him than darling Gwyn?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | (discontinued at the moment, but I might decide to come back to this eventually. any ideas/suggestions are much appreciated!)
Letters of Desperation💖💔| AO3 | Total Word Count: 2,251 | Azriel's and Gwyn's letters they have been sending to each other over the years throughout their relationship and especially when they're away on missions. A spinoff of the fanfic "Letters Never Sent" by Starfall_Spirit.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 |
Letters of Grief💔| AO3 | Total Word Count: 8,568 | Gwyn has written a letter to Azriel after her death, and he finds it when he’s cleaning out the attic.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 |
I'll Break Your Heart (Then Put the Pieces Back Together)💖❤️💔| AO3 | Total Word Count: N/A | [Summary]. Upcoming!
GWYNRIEL - ONESHOTS
Night at the Club💖| AO3 | Azriel and Gwyn have a deep conversation after a brief misunderstanding.
Come to Bed💖| AO3 | Gwyn is fed up with her mate and husband, Azriel, having to work so much.
Weekend Mornings💖| AO3 | Gwyn and Azriel's banter on a weekend morning.
Afternoons Indoors💖| AO3 | Modern AU where Gwyn and Azriel spend an afternoon playing Mario Kart.
Falling Asleep💖| AO3 | Azriel finds Gwyn asleep after returning from one of his missions.
The Final Goodbye💔| AO3 | What happens when the tragedy of war and fate itself fight to keep true lovers apart?
The Sight of Cobalt💖| AO3 | Azriel and Gwyn go night-time shopping in Velaris.
The Ghost of the Grave💔| AO3 | Azriel has to deal with the loss of his mate, but he finds an unexpected surprise when he visits her grave.
The Thought of You💔| AO3 | Azriel tries desperately to cope with the loss of his mate.
Cooking💖| AO3 | Gwyn cooks for Azriel after he comes back from a long mission.
My First Love💖💔| AO3 | When asked about his first love, Azriel doesn't quite know how to respond.
NERIS
Letters of Desperation💖| AO3 | Total Word Count: 9,953 | Nesta's and Eris' unsent love letters to each other, a spinoff of the fanfic "A Court of Tangled Flames" by Theladyofbloodshed and "Letters Never Sent" by Starfall_Spirit on AO3.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 |
OC FICS
Inner Battles 💖💔| AO3 | OC Valea is recovering from serious depression, but Azriel refuses to listen to her.
A Court of Shadows and Healing💖| AO3 | Total Word Count: 17,788 | Soon after Azriel arrives at Windhaven after being dumped by his cruel father, a mysterious healer shows up, seeming to know quite a bit about him, with seemingly only one intention: to help him gain full mobility of hands once again.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | (discontinued at the moment, but I might decide to come back to this eventually. any ideas/suggestions are much appreciated!)
EVENTS
Nesta Week 2025 Masterlist
Reply to Day 3 - Romance, Requests, and Redirection
Masterpost of masterposts
Line dividers credit goes to @enchanthings