#BTW 'heard about taking the kudos off' just mean that people are discussing the idea of it

[ialwaysgobacktoit]

Time to rest your weary head: The End!

FIRST AND FOREMOST; I KNOW it took me a DAMN LONG TIME to update this, but lemme explain: This was my first fanfiction ever written in english, my first Gwynriel long-fic and the first fanfic I ever published and I didn't want to finish it (although I knew it must come to an end)

I am so grateful for all the love, likes, kudos on AO3, comments and reblogs I've been getting since I first started posting it. You have NO IDEA how much it meant to me; I've always found myself a little insecure to post my own fiction work, but this one have payed off and it's all thanks to you guys!!!!

To @katiebellf the one who lovingly suggested WRITE A FANFICTION OUT OF THIS bday headcanon and i sure as hell did!!! To @madie2200 and @starbornsinger for being so supportive and always making sure I'd get feedback, and to @thecrispypotatochip for your constant reblogs with your opinions + to every kind soul out here in this crazy virtual space that made sure to make me feel loved! (i see you all, and i love you)

ANYWAY, that's it guys! <3 This chapter of my life is finally over (ik i'm being HELLA DRAMATIC but put up with me!!!!! i love gwynriel!!!!) and I can't wait for you to see what's to come :) (btw i know i'm technically LATE since here in my brazilian timezone it's 1AM but think on the bright side... I hope y'all have a great dinner/breakfast/lunch surprise :)

Chapter List here and my personal Gwynriel hymn that inspired the title of this fic RIGHT HERE

PART 15: FINAL.

Azriel knew what he had to do.

As he beheld the circle of people in front of him all gathered around the dining table, his family, he felt a sense of calmness and quietude he hadn’t for a long, long time. His eyes quickly landed on Gwyn, who was motioning for him to sit by her side.

It was dinner night at the River House, and he had it all planned out. His shadows bounced around his shoulders as he took the seat next to his mate. As she engaged in a conversation with Emerie and Feyre, Nesta and Cassian leaned on each other, Rhys played with Nyx while Mor and Amren discussed about something he couldn’t bring himself to care about, he felt at ease. Peaceful.

Gwyn held his hand under the table, and he let his shadows hung around her freely. It was almost as they belonged to her, and not him. They had started doing it a lot more often, so the Inner Circle was supposed to be more used to it by now. Still, Azriel ignored Amren’s inquisitive eyebrow and turned his gaze to his mate; those teal eyes were eyeing him, and she squeezed his hand, giving him an almost imperceptible nod; a go-ahead sign.

Just like they had previously talked.

“There’s something you should know” Azriel started, immediately earning the attention of almost everyone at the table, since it wasn’t every day he opened up like that. Only Gwyn kept staring at her lap, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“Is everything ok?” Nesta was the one who asked.

“We’re mates.” She blurted out, startling him – and everyone around, for that matter. He looked at her, amused, and then at the confusion that reigned across the table. In a second, a squealing Nesta and Emerie lunched forward and embraced his mate in a tight and equally loud hug, while Cassian spitted his drink, Mor clapped and Amren muttered a “tell me something new”, quietly smiling and raising her glass at Azriel anyway.

Only Rhys and Feyre stood in silence at their spots at the table, knowing smiles mirrored on their faces quickly noticed by Nesta, still with her arms around Gwyn.

“Why are you two so quiet?” Her eyes missed nothing, raising her chin at her sister and her mate. Rhys merely took a sip from his drink.

“They already knew.” Azriel found himself saying, and Nesta’s stare darted to him, and then to Gwyn, who was still flushed from all the fuss.

“And you knew they knew?” She furrowed her brows; he couldn’t identify if her tone was menacing or curious, but Gwyn wasn’t the one to feel intimidated by it, given the way she chuckled in response.

“It was all me.” Rhys raised his hands. “It was an accident; I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I need to train more on my mental shields, apparently.” It was all the priestess admitted, but kindly smiled at Rhysand and Feyre from across the table. “The High Lo- Rhysand, I mean- kept it safe for me. He found out earlier than Azriel did.”

“You were the one to realize first?” Nesta sat again at her spot besides Cassian, and turned to her friend surprised. Gwyn smiled smugly.

“By a short amount of time” Azriel couldn’t help but grunt out, unconsciously falling into their usual banter.

Her warm eyes landed on him, and she winked, still with that Cauldron-damned smile on, causing shivers all over him.

“Still” She shrugged irreverently and smirked playfully. “I knew it before you. Quite the Spymaster, huh?”

If everyone else at the table stilled slightly at her words, all but Cassian, who bellowed in laughter, Azriel couldn’t notice. Not when his mate’s stare was unfaltering, with that challenging look in her eyes she knew he loved. He immediately found himself joining his brother, again not caring if it was the first in a damn long time his family even heard him laugh like that.

Some time passed between casual conversation and sips of wine. In that time, Azriel was secretly arranging his next words in his mind. Just like Gwyn and he had previously discussed, the news went well; as deep down, he knew it would. His family had understood and cherished them both, and Azriel reveled in the peace it brought him, quietly admiring those people around him.

When his eyes landed at Gwyn, though, deeply immersed in conversation with Rhysand, he took in a deep breath, determined. There was still one more thing he had to do, one more thing she wasn’t yet aware. Something he knew, in his heart, was the right thing to do. Was the best thing he could do.

“Rhys” He called, and Gwyn immediately turned her head to him, eyes shining with pure curiosity. “There’s one more thing.”

He leaned in closer to his brother, resting his arm behind Gwyn’s chair. Rhysand’s expression was equally intrigued, but his voice was calm and collected when he answered: “Shoot, brother.”

“I need a break.”

“Oh?” Rhysand’s eyebrows shot up with surprise.

“Oh?” Gwyn echoed quietly.

Her burning gaze made him tear his eyes from Rhysand and stare back at her; something was glimmering in her teal ocean eyes. He couldn’t discern what it was. The rest of his family was still talking to each other, though the conversation had dimmed a bit.

“I have well trained spies all over the country; I could spend the rest of this week getting them ready to take my place for a little while. I’d be back in two weeks, if you’d let me.” Azriel continued.

Rhysand smiled broadly and promptly retorted: “What about two months?”

Gwyn gasped beside him. Something stirred within Azriel’s chest. Two whole months, with Prythian in the verge of a possible war, didn’t seem wise at all, and he was well aware of the fact.

But Cauldron-damn him, he wanted that. Needed that.

Suddenly, a vision of a shining blue lake under the afternoon sun came into his field of view. In his fingers, loose strands of a long copper hair, like burning fire under the sunlight. The only thing he could hear was the chirps of birds and the soft breathing of the young priestess who rested against his chest. For whatever reason, he could see it.

He felt his brother’s claws against his mental shield, bringing him back from his reverie:

You deserve it, brother. You two deserve this and more.

He had to blink away the tears that he felt coming up, swallowing the lump in his throat.

Then he looked at Gwyn, that smiling, powerful force of nature sitting next to him. He finally understood what that was in her eyes; the same thing Rhysand showed in his.

Pride.

And he knew his answer.

EPILOGUE

A few years later

Azriel woke up to soft humming. He squinted against the morning light, and frowned when he found the other side of the bed empty. His fae senses discerned the familiar voice coming from the bathroom, a voice he always seemed drawn to.

He lazily got up and followed the sweet melody that woke him up and lived in his dreams; leaning against the door frame, he watched as Gwyn slowly brushed her damp hair, the smell of lavender filling up the air:

"Hey, you"

Gwyn turned around, and smiled softly at him. That morning sight still made his heart flutter, even if it's been years now since they shared rooms in the House of Wind.

"Good morning, love" She neared him and placed a quick kiss on his lips. "What are you doing up? Thought you weren't tutoring today."

"I'm not" He hummed, embracing her. "But the bed was getting cold."

His arms felt perfect around her back as she placed her hands behind his neck.

"Ha-ha" She pouted, rolling her eyes at his little drama "My Ilyrian boy is missing me already? It's been less than fifteen minutes"

"What can I do? I love my mate and don't want her to leave me just yet."

She looked thoughtful, a playful smile on her lips: "Well, I suppose I still got time before I hit the library..."

In a second, Azriel was picking her up in his arms and carefully laying her on their bed as she laughed, and he admired just how flushed she got after a hot shower. Gods, he could never get tired of that view. He started peppering her face with kisses, trailing down her neck and smirking against her skin as he heard her sigh and claw her hands on his hair.

"Az..." She murmured after a few seconds.

There's something.

The fact that his shadows had to alert him that made his head shot up and stare into those deep eyes in front of him. She was still smiling, but faintly, and gently stroked his hair as if to soothe him.

He straightened up, leaning on an elbow to face her.

"What?"

"I think we should discuss something."

She seemed nervous, but her tone left nothing to the imagination. Whatever something that was, Gwyneth Berdara was already set on it.

He nodded, brows furrowed.

"You know I love you, and I'm so happy the way things are going. But lately, with you training Ren to one day replace you as Spymaster and me opening up the public library in Velaris, well..."

He swallowed, feeling his heartbeat fasten. But she only smiled further:

"I feel like we should do it now. Accept the bond."

Seconds passed and Azriel didn't know what to say, as he scanned her face for any kind of discomfort or insecurity. There was none. A jest, maybe? Could it be...

"I'm not joking, Shadowsinger. In case you're wondering."

She interrupted his thoughts, and brushed her hands against his hair once more, pulling him closer to her.

"Gwyn, you..." He was speechless, something in his chest glowing brighter and brighter he felt it could burst out of him any minute now.

"I want this, Azriel. And have been wanting it for a long, long time." She breathed in "Do you still..."

"Yes. Yes." He answered in a breathless laugh; the reality of it hitting him. They were doing it. Mates. Forever.

"Mating ceremony and all?" She joined him in laughter now, they both beaming. Azriel felt his cheeks hurt.

"Whatever you say, Gwyn. I'd love whatever you wish. I just want to be with you for the rest of my life." The words came rushing out, but he didn't care. Not when his mate closed the space between them and kissed him intently.

-----------------

Gwyn didn't go to the library that day, after all. They prefer focusing on other more... Urgent matters after their talk.

As they lay in bed together a few hours later, Azriel felt utter peace. He closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of Gwyn's body tightly embraced in him, her hair soft against his chin, her breathing even on his chest.

He suddenly remembered this ancient tune his mother used to sing to him when he was no more than a kid. It was a sweet, tender lullaby about peace and tranquility. The one song he always remembered to sing against the darkness. One that seemed to originate from every cell in his body, intrinsic to who he was.

Lately, that song's been bringing him comfort and solace for one more reason. And he was singing it to her now.

And if Gwyn didn't move, nor shift her position, he knew exactly why. Moments in which he sang were rare, since he much preferred to hear his mate's powerful voice. And that song, that one tune meant so much to him, he knew she could sense it. He could feel her smile against his chest.

His shadows expanded and retracted around them both, cocooning them in darkness and playing around the room; temporarily set free.

He felt himself slowly giving in to a peaceful slumber as he went on:

And you would say

"Time to rest your weary head

Take your wings and go to bed

I know you want to show it all, my darling"

And I'd say

"Set me down and rock me, rock me to sleep"

All he sensed before sleep took over him was one, single kiss against his cheek, and a soft whisper against his ear.

He loved her too.

[vernonfielding]

From heaven they sent

Story No. 31 of my Season 7 Countdown Project. THE END! THIS IS IT!

Summary: “You want to hold her?”

Jake holds his goddaughter for the first time. Takes place during Ava. (Read on AO3.)

It’s only as Terry is bent over the bassinet, hand sliding under his daughter’s delicate head, cupping the warm weight of it in his palm and thinking again how precious this life is, how fragile, that it hits him: Jake has never done this before.

(Truthfully, he doesn’t know that for sure, but he’s almost certain.)

Terry eases his other hand under Ava’s tiny body and lifts her to his chest, awed all over again by her perfection – the curve of her nose, the curl of her miniature eyelashes, the plump jut of her cheeks, which are already flushed a rosy pink. She is asleep and for a moment he’s lost in her, memorizing her face and the five wrinkled fingers that have slipped out of the swaddle. His heart is so full of love his chest aches with it, in the best possible way.

He’s blinking back tears when he finally turns to Jake.

“Have you held a baby this small before?” he says, making no move to pass over his girl right away.

Jake is swaying a little, pushing from one foot to the other with nervous restlessness, and Terry can see the muscles tensing across his shoulders. But his eyes are fixed on Ava, and there’s a softness there and in the small smile playing at his mouth, and the look on his face isn’t fear, it’s wonder. 

Jake shakes his head and then breaks his gaze and glances at Terry. “Are you sure you want me to-”

“Yeah,” Terry says, and adjusts his daughter, cradling her head as he holds her out toward Jake. “Bend your arm, a little more- yes, just like that.”

And then he’s setting Ava’s head in the crook of Jake’s elbow, and he guides her body into Jake’s arms; she’s so small, not much more than a bundle of pink blanket against Jake’s gray hoodie. Terry adjusts Jake’s position, moves his arms until he’s sure Jake’s got a good hold. He lays a palm over the crown of his baby’s head and strokes his thumb over the smallest frown that’s formed on her brow, and he takes a step back and leaves Ava alone in her godfather’s arms.

Jake’s eyes are bright as he gazes down at her. Terry can’t imagine what thoughts are flashing through Jake’s weird and exceptional mind (he isn’t sure he wants to know), but the love that Jake already has for this child is obvious – he’s practically got hearts in his eyes – and not surprising.

Terry chose Jake as godfather in large part because he asked. The two most obvious godparent choices – Sharon’s best girl friends from college – had gone to Cagney and Lacey. Terry has plenty of non-work friends, but none of them expressed any interest in being a godparent before, nor have they been especially active in the twins’ lives since. The fact that Jake had campaigned for the job had earned him points with both Terry and Sharon. In the end, when Terry had asked Sharon about it, she’d shrugged and said sure, and then, “Isn’t he the one who gives you acid reflux?”

Initially, Terry had thought it might be a joke, or possibly a prize – something for Jake to lord over Amy or Charles (or basically the whole squad). But Jake quickly had made it clear he was serious, and then Terry had thought: Jake is brave and smart and confident, and he has such a good heart. And Jake laughs. He laughs more than anyone Terry knows. And didn’t Terry want that for his daughter? To be as fiery and fierce as her sisters and her mother, and as full of laughter as her godfather?

Even after he’d said yes, Terry mulled it over some more, and later he realized that Jake loves the same way he does his job: with reckless abandon, with all of his strength and his passion, with his arms and his heart wide open. He screws up sometimes, but he doesn’t hold back. He will give his godchild everything that’s in his power to offer.

Eventually, Terry’s doubts disappeared entirely.

Terry sits beside his wife on her bed and carefully drapes an arm around her shoulders, and she settles into his side, and it doesn’t matter one bit that they’re in a hospital, that almost everything went so horribly wrong today, because the important things went right and Ava is here and she is healthy. And Jake is responsible for a lot of that. Their baby is so lucky to have him.

Jake shifts his arms, and it’s barely a twitch, but Ava’s eyes open. Terry knows she can’t really see anything just yet but he’d swear they are making eye contact, that they are locked on to one another just now. Jake grins at her and Terry can feel his unbound joy like a presence in the room, like something electric.

“Hi,” Jake says, voice so soft and gentle it’s almost unrecognizable. “I’m Jake. I’m your godfather. We’re going to have so much fun together. And if your parents die, I’m going to take reasonably good care of you.”

“Terry?” Sharon says. She reaches for him and her grip on his forearm is painful.

“Uh, Jake-” Terry says, rising from the bed.

“Look, ‘reasonable’ is the best I can guarantee, and I’m not going to make promises I can’t keep. That would be a terrible way to start godfathering,” Jake says to them both. He looks back at the baby, blinks at her and beams when she blinks back. “Isn’t that right, godbaby?”

Terry means to respond to that – and he knows Sharon is a half-second from asking Terry how the hell Jake got the idea that he would ever be Ava’s guardian – but then the baby hiccups and every sour emotion in the room dissipates like it was never there, and everyone is smiling and crying and overcome again with how right and perfect the world is.

“That was the cutest fucking sound I’ve ever heard,” Jake says.

Terry kisses his baby’s forehead and then he kisses Jake’s forehead because he just can’t help himself, and he says, “Amen, my god-wife.”

End Notes:

Title is from Bikini Babe Workout (Bash Brothers).

Weirdly, this was the first story I wrote for this project. But it seemed appropriate to end the countdown with Jake holding his baby goddaughter for the first time. Here’s to season 7!!

(I’m going to be super obnoxious now and thank a bunch of people for their help or support or flailing or whatever with this countdown project.)

First thank you: Oh my god, @fezzle. My beta and my dear friend. I WOULD NOT have attempted this dumb project without her. She beta’d 31 STORIES (That’s more than 30K words! In a month!) and she saved my ass more than once. She also helped me brainstorm ideas and she talked me off the ledge a few times. I cannot capture how completely amazing she is and how much I love her. Everyone should be so lucky to have a Fezzle in their lives (especially if they’re going to attempt something ridiculous like this series, but also just, in general).

Second thank you: Everyone who gave me a fic prompt! Some of the best ideas came from you guys. I’m going to name folks here and hope I don’t forget anyone or get a name wrong: @fezzle, @madeofitzits, @andrewsambags, @exploding-snapple, @theoneintheblue, @vic-kovac, @weshallmeetagain, @ofbuttsandbombs, @amyscascadingtabs, and @feeisamarshmallow. (That’s in the order stories were posted btw.) If you sent me a prompt and I didn’t write it, please tell me! I may have missed you somehow. I’m also super open to prompts at any time, so don’t hesitate to hit me up after this month.

Third thank you: EVERYONE who left kudos or comments or likes, or who reblogged on tumblr or reached out to me personally in some way. I LOVE YOU ALL. Writing fic can sometimes feel weirdly lonely and isolating and it is always so great to get any kind of feedback. (Let’s be honest, feedback is like a fucking drug and it is the best.)

(Yes, I’m sorry, these End Notes may be longer than the actual fic.)

Fourth thank you: I really especially appreciated the folks who engaged in some great fandom discussion with me relating to these stories – in particular, @amyscascadingtabs and @feeisamarshmallow and @exploding-snapple (timeline!) and MediumSizedEvil. That was fun, guys.

Fifth thank you: Anyone who read all of these stories, even if you never feedbacked. Fedback? Anyway, you’re out there and I appreciate you too!

Sixth thank you: Fezzle again, just because. ❤️