#Throne of Glass universe

[acourtofquestions]

Celaena Sardothien would LIVE for the Folklore Eras dresses

[leahkenobi]

distraction

dorian havilliard x reader

word count: 1.6k

dorian just wants to be what you need.

warnings: it’s very chaotic lol. starts off enemies to lovers, discussion of trauma, mentions of bruises, infected wounds, scars, mentions of physical and mental pain then transitions to sub!dorian, smut, grinding, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap, dorian isn’t real but pregnancy is), dorian has a praise kink, kinda denied orgasm but not really. please let me know if i’m missing anything!

a/n: well. it’s miss @oliviajdjarin’s birth month (livtober, as one may say). yes, this is late. yes, i feel bad. but i hope it is still enjoyable for everyone! i had so much fun writing a sub character (who would’ve thought lol very uncharacteristic). as always requests are open and lmk if you want to be added to a general or specific tag list! i’m always happy to add! i do not own this gif! anyways, happy late birthday liv, love you bunches. hope it was as special as you :)

“oh fuck you dorian,” you said, unable to keep it to yourself any longer.

“don’t you wish you could, my dear,” he said with arrogance that was larger than life.

it had been an exhausting journey from morath. dorian was both the savior you were looking for, someone who stood up for you and helped you out of that horrendous place and also the biggest pain in the ass that ever did exist.

you would have pummeled him to the ground, maybe even stabbed his stupid stupid stomach lined with his stupid stupid abs if it weren’t for the lingering sense of gratitude you held toward the man.

“can we rest here for the night?” you asked, physically and mentally whooped from your situation. your mental scars from morath were just as prominent as the cuts that were turning a sickly green and your purple bruises.

“cmon, just another mile. we’ll be closer to the stream then,” dorian responded.

you knew there was no way you could make it. you’d already been dragging him down because of your lingering injuries. but there was no way you could tell him this. you refused to show weakness in front of anyone, especially the entitled asshole of a king in front you.

dorian had to have noticed your rapid decline in speed. you couldn’t help it, the pain truly was becoming unbearable. but he couldn’t know that. no one could know that. if anyone knew-

no one could see that-

it would be too vulnerable-

too raw-

“y/n,” he said in a firm tone, almost sounding annoyed.

“we haven’t got all day do we? do i need to carry you?” he teased.

“i’m moving as fast as i can,” you grumbled.

“if that’s as fast as you can go, i have some concerns,” he said with a joking tone.

“well dorian no offense. i know it’s hard for you to understand and all but i’m struggling right now. i get that you don’t really know what that means, but for some of us, it means we walk a bit slower than usual because our bodies can’t fucking take it. so kindly, or not so kindly, leave me alone,” you said with force.

because honestly, what did this spoiled royal bastard know about pain and suffering?

he only chuckled in response, which somehow frustrated you more. how dare he laugh?

you were so distracted in your haze of anger that you didn’t notice he had slowed down to your speed. he slipped an arm over your shoulder to steady your form.

you silently walked the next mile with him, every step more agonizing than the last. when you finally reached a spot he deemed acceptable, he dropped his arm from your figure. you nearly collapsed without his support, which made you realize how reliant you had been on him for the last chunk of your trip.

“thank you,” you said hoarsely.

“what was that?” he prodded, wanting to hear you say it.

“thanks,” you said a bit louder.

“i’m sorry, i still can’t hear you,” he said with a grin.

“i said thank you,” you announced loudly.

dorian chuckled. “oh it’s my pleasure. really strengthens my arms when i have to carry you a mile through the forest.”

“alright, would you-“ you started.

“i’m kidding,” he said, “i’m just messing with you. i’ll carry you wherever i need to if it means we will stay safe.”

you nodded your head slowly and whispered another soft thanks.

the pack that had been on dorian’s back contained a thin tent which he pitched while you walked a few yards to the stream to gather water. night was falling, and with it the temperature.

as you walked back to the tent, you realized dorian was no where in sight. you gently laid the water you collected in the canteen on a rock and peered inside the tent.

there he was in all of his beauty. he no longer had his collared shirt and thick coat covering his magnificent upper body. his legs were bare besides a pair of boxers and you couldn’t help but stare. even though he frustrated the ever living hell out of you, he was gorgeous. you noticed a white ring around his neck before he turned to see your face poked in through the tent flap.

“like what you see?” he said with a sly grin.

your face heated at the implication.

“sorry… i- uh… i was looking to find you. i gathered some water,” you stuttered out, flustered by his appearance.

“mm thank you. i am quite parched,” he replied.

you grabbed the canteen and passed it to him.

“goodnight,” you said as you walked away from the tent, trying to find a spot to sleep on the ground next to the tent so the wind wouldn’t blow directly on you.

“and just what do you think you are doing?” dorian said as he poked his head out.

“um.. looking for a place to sleep?” you said.

“y/n. we have been traveling together for a week. what makes you think you can’t be in the same tent as me?” dorian asked.

“we’ve only slept in separate rooms through those port towns. i just assumed it would be uncomfortable for you,” you said with a shrug.

“what would make me more uncomfortable is you out there completely alone with no warmth or company,” dorian said, “get in the tent now, please.”

you nodded and mumbled a quiet okay.

the tent wasn’t very large, just enough room for a few blankets. you slowly crawled under one as dorian sat down and did the same.

once you were both settled, you sighed deeply and let the events of the past week come over you. so much had happened in so little time.

you attempted to close your eyes, if only to stop yourself from processing your time at morath, the rescue, and your complex feelings toward dorian. but before you could fall asleep, he spoke.

“i know that i’m not… easy. or probably the best person to be accompanying you right now. but i want you to know that i’ve felt your pain,” he said.

“dorian just… don’t. i don’t want to hear about the pain of stubbing your royal pinky toe, or the pain of attending too many fancy dinner parties. it’s different, okay?” you said, trying your best not to sound too irritated, but closed off so you wouldn’t have to hear his nonsense.

“we are not as different as you think,” he said.

even in the dark, you could seem him scratching at the scar on his neck.

“what is that?” you asked, pointing to it.

“what makes us the same,” he said with a sad smile.

“what do you mean?”

“the valg, y/n. i felt them too. they hurt me and infested me too,” he said softly.

your face fell. by no means had you expected that.

“dorian i am so sor-“

“no, don’t say you are sorry. i don’t need to hear that. i just need you to know that i’m trying to be what you need right now. so tell me what that is. i can be your punching bag, i could build you up, i could make you laugh, or i could be whatever else you need. i just want to help,” he said, his eyes staring into yours with intent.

somehow, you were closer than before. close enough that you could feel his warm breath. close enough that your mind wandered-

“how about a distraction?” you said with a small smile, letting the feelings of gratitude for the rescue and appreciation of his beauty take over your mind and body.

“a distraction?” he grinned, “how so?”

“lean a little closer, dorian. i’ll show you how,” you responded.

within a second he was on you, mouth meeting your own.

you were hungry for this, hungry for this crumb of normalcy that he could give you. you needed to feel someone.

you pushed his shoulders back to the ground, straddling him. your tongue dominated his own, and he couldn’t have been happier based on the moans slipping from his mouth.

you felt him stiffen in his boxers below you.

“dorian,” you moaned, “please.”

“take what you need. i’m here to be what you need,” he said.

and so you did. you pulled your own bottoms off, then quickly followed with his. you stayed on top of him, grinding into his erection.

“y/n, if you keep doing that i’m not going to last,” he said in between broken moans.

you reached between your bodies, grabbing hold of him and lining him up. you ground down on him and released a gasp as he groaned.

“that better, prince?” you asked with a slight tease.

“so good, y/n. so good,” he said.

“good boy. you feel so good dorian,” you said while pushing his hair off his forehead and leaning down to suck a bruise onto his collar bone.

eventually, his hands found their way to your nub. the second he touched your clit, you jolted.

“dorian,” you groaned, “faster.”

“anything,” he said, looking to you with glassed over eyes.

you could feel the coil tightening in your core as you squeezed around dorian’s cock.

“i’m going to-“ dorian started.

“hold it,” you said, “wait for me.”

“okay,” he responded and leaned forward to kiss your breasts, continuing to stimulate your clit simultaneously.

“i’m right there baby,” you said, “cum with me.”

and he did, spilling into you with a violent groan. you were a mess on top of him, crying out in pleasure.

as you came down from your high, you rolled off of him.

“that was incredible,” he said, reaching into his bag for a cloth to clean you up with.

“so good,” you said.

after he wiped you down, you turned to him.

“thank you,” you said, snuggling under his strong arms.

“of course,” he said, “i will happily be a distraction whenever you need.

taglist:

@oliviajdjarin

[backtoaugust-ts]

I have realized that the perfect form of media must have a delicate balance between absolutely heart wrenching pure emotional devastation and the most ridiculous nonsense you have ever seen in your whole life

[karinagiada]

The Queen herself, wreathed in flames. 🔥

[shadowhandss60]

Rowan: “Are you really reading smut at the table? It’s Yulemas, we have guests.”

Aelin: “Shhhh, there’s only one bed at the inn.”

Dorian across the table, also reading: *gasp* “There’s only one bed at the inn.”

[penell-ope]

The SJM babes all together 💞

[rainingriversofyou]

“Like a roaring star, he thundered down the long shoot, and Manon moved with him, meeting each gallop of his powerful body, each step in time with the beat of the wyverns locked in the belly of the mountain. Abraxos flapped his wings open, pounding them once, twice, gathering speed, fearless, unrelenting, ready…

Fast as lightning arcing across the sky, he plummeted toward the Gap floor…

Down into hell, into eternity, into that world where, for a moment, she could have sworn that something tightened in her chest. She did not shut her eyes, not as the moon-illuminated stones of the Gap became closer, clearer. She did not need to. Like the sails of a mighty ship, Abraxos’s wings unfurled, snapping tight. He tilted them upward, pulling against the death trying to drag them down. And it was those wings, covered in glimmering patches of Spidersilk, that stayed strong and sturdy, sending them soaring clean up the side of the Omega and into the starry sky beyond.”

—Heir Of Fire

“First Flight” Artist: @madschofield

[demigods-vampires-fae-are-bae]

Kidnapper: We have your kids.

Aelin: ...I don't have any kids?

Kidnapper: We have something. They call themselves the cadre.

Aelin: Oh, okay. Can you keep them for a bit? I haven't slept in, like, five months.

Kidnapper: Sure. Just pick them up by six. The blond one won't stop talking.

Fenrys, faintly in the background: I AM A FORCE OF NATURE! *crashing noises*

[darkest-fantasy]

It’s all there

Rowan+ Aelin and Gwyn+ Azriel mate language similarities

[throughstarlitfields]

Wanted to post this here for all the Manorian love ❤️ Art is by spearthymint, commissioned by me. You can find us both on Instagram, our tags are watermarked 🫶🏼 Please don’t repost!

[emilystheories]

Aelin Galathynius created Prythian. She is the Mother.

This theory contains TOG, ACOTAR and (slight) CC SPOILERS!

Many, many thousands of years ago, Amren recalled that a huge "rip in the sky" appeared in her home world. Out of curiosity, Amren flew through this rip, and landed in Prythian.

This perfectly aligns with Aelin ripping a hole in the sky of the God's realm. This is the most concrete piece of evidence that Throne of Glass took place in the past (something I have already theorised about).

However, and most interestingly, it is suggested that Amren entered Prythian when it was being made - when the world itself was beginning to form.

If Aelin indeed created the "rip" in the sky that Amren went into - the timing suggests that Aelin's actions led to the creation of Prythian.

And, although subtle, we actually have proof of this.

Recall that Wyrd was described as the thing that "keeps the realms apart:"

But, when Aelin shut the gates between worlds at the end of Kingdom of Ash, we have this VERY important (and often overlooked) clue:

Aelin caused for all worlds to overlap.

I believe this is how Prythian was born.

The Cauldron.

According to the mural that Feyre observes, Prythian was created by a female with "glowing, slender hands," who tipped a fluid with "strange symbols" (wyrdmarks), from the Cauldron, onto the land.

I believe this was Aelin - perhaps not literally, but metaphorically.

But this begs the question; what exactly is the Cauldron?

For starters, we know that the Cauldron has 3 "legs". These legs provide most of its power (and this is an important clue!)

This is very similar to the 3 wyrdkeys in TOG; the very 3 wyrdkeys that Aelin embedded into her arm (and subsequently her blood) when she sealed the gates.

Aelin then gave over the 3 wyrdkeys, and all of her fire power to forge the new lock. It is this very power that is the essence of the Cauldron. 

As evidence of this, when we see the Cauldron's power in ACOWAR, it presents as Aelin's own power; "raw fire power," capable of burning an entire army to ash within seconds.

The Dread Trove.

The Cauldron also created the Dread Trove - and this is another very important clue.

The Crown.

The Crown can control and influence people - just like the wyrdkeys (and subsequent wyrdcollars and rings controlled people in TOG).

The Mask.

The Mask can control the dead - just like the wyrdkeys could create armies of dead people; a power Erawan desperately wanted.

The Harp.

The Harp can open portals to different locations, and potentially different worlds and realms. This is one of the key features of the wyrdkeys.

In fact, it was said the 3 wyrdkeys were needed to create a wyrdgate.

The Cauldron has 3 legs (that I believe are the 3 wyrdkeys Aelin yielded to seal the lock).

Thus, the Cauldron *IS* a wyrdgate.

Cauldron = Wyrdgate.

As further proof of this, to "nullify" the Cauldron, Amren had to:

give up her current body,

forget about those she loved,

and unleash her power of "light and flame."

Which is just like Mala Fire-Bringer; who also had to:

give up her current body,

forget about those she loved, (in fact, both her and Amren both warned that they will no longer "remember" their loved ones),

and unleash her power of "light and flame", in order to forge the lock, and shut the wyrdgate.

But, recall that when Mala's plan didn't work, Aelin (and Dorian) had to give all of their power to reforge a new lock, in order to seal and shut the wyrdgate once more.

This is just like Rhys in ACOWAR; in order to re-seal the Cauldron, he had to give over every inch of his power.

In fact, when Aelin and Dorian's power were used together, and in combination with the wyrdkeys, it was described as "creation and destruction," and the "beginning and the ending."

These are the exact same terms used to describe the Cauldron - and I'd argue the exact same *power* of the Cauldron (but more on that later).

And, as a side note - at one point, the Cauldron's power was even described as "fire and ice"... (ring any bells?)

The Lock.

Further, when Aelin and Dorian were sealing the wyrdgate shut, they had to make a "lock."

The lock they made was the Eye of Elena. This is perhaps the most important clue in this theory; that this very symbol and mechanism allowed for the creation of the Cauldron.

However, we learn in later TOG books that this symbol isn't just known as the Eye of Elena, but also as the "Eye of the Goddess." This is because it was first a sacred witch symbol, created by Rhiannon Crochan.

Crochan means Cauldron.

Additionally, the Eye of the Goddess was named as such, as it is said to represent the Three Faced Goddess (that the witches worshipped), and her three counterparts;

The Maiden

The Mother

The Crone.

It's for this reason that I believe the Cauldron was created from the Eye of Elena, or the Eye of the Goddess lock, as it too follows the principles of Maiden, Mother, and Crone.

We see clear evidence of this when Elain, Nesta and Briallyn were thrown into the Cauldron.

Elain was made into the Maiden.

The Maiden often symbolises innocence, beauty and blossoming.

In TOG, the Maiden was represented by the Blueblood witches, who were the "oracles, mystics, and zealots."

Elain was made into a Seer.

The Bluebloods also required more iron (as it was said that they were the most powerful), and it is rather interesting that Elain (presumably) wears an iron ring.

Nesta was made into the Mother.

The Mother often symbolises maturity, responsibility, and power.

In TOG, the Mother was represented by the Blackbeak witches, who were the warriors - known for their "obedience, discipline, and brutality."

Considering the multiple references to Nesta making a fine General in an army, as well as the parallels between Manon's thirteen, and Nesta's Valkyries - it makes perfect sense.

Briallyn was made into the Crone.

She was, quite literally, turned into an old woman by the Cauldron.

Creation and Destruction.

Knowing that that the Cauldron was made from the Eye of Elena/Eye of the Goddess, as well as the 3 wyrdkeys, as well as Aelin's own power that she donated to forge the lock, and seal the gate - this can explain Nesta's own power.

Nesta's power manifested as "cold" flame, one that seemingly burned without a trace.

We have already seen this before;

Aelin's moon-fire,

and Kaltain's shadow-fire.

The commonality between these two? Both women were in possession of the wyrdkeys.

The same wyrdkeys that the Cauldron now possess; the same power that Nesta stole.

And, all in all, this makes perfect sense. The Cauldron is a wyrdgate. Wyrd is the "language of the universe," it is the power of both creation and destruction, life and death.

Nesta's power symbolises one half - Death.

And, it's for this reason that I believe that Elain's powers (that are yet to be revealed), will symbolise the other half - Life. Creation. (And, I also have an inkling that she will be the one to rebuild the Dusk Court with this very power).

We also know that the Cauldron loved Elain. If the Cauldron was indeed created by Aelin - that she is it's Mother - then perhaps it's no coincidence that "Elain" is an anagram for "Aelin"....?

A portal too?

If the Cauldron is indeed a wyrdgate - then recall that Feyre threw the Book of Breathings into it.

Now, Jesiba Roga possesses that exact book.

Does this tell us that the Cauldron is in fact a wyrdgate to Lunathion, and the Crescent City world...?

Knowing all the connections between the Cauldron and the witches - and Jesiba being a witch herself, it makes sense...

[acourtofquestions]

credit: @wavyhues (on Instagram)

[popnovelspn]

Friendly reminder:

Hunt looked a nurse dead in the eyes, with his back bleeding and a painful cringe on his face and said ‘I can still fuck though, right?’

And the nurse had to keep a straight face.

[anarchiii]

Worlds apart-13 —ACOTAR x TOG AU

Part Thirteen | warnings: angst, blood, violence, | Azriel x Celaena Sardothien

Summary; pain and sorrow one after the other, Azriel decides that maybe he isn’t meant for this world, but maybe for another…

Note: this is an AU it’s not in the books.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Azriel’s POV

“What’s wrong with you, boy?” Amren snapped, clearly having enough of his tensed body and impatience, everything, he almost wanted to say, everything was wrong, it had started an hour ago when he woke up to a nightmare where he watched as Celaena choked to death on her own blood right infront of a door, a human man simply watching her die, he stood there and could no nothing. It had felt so real. So real in fact that his love seemed to watch him as she lay there, tears falling from her beautiful eyes.

“She’s in danger,” he finally said, whispering more like it, what if she was dying right now, dead even? “Who?” He could barely think straight, she could be suffering right now and he wasn’t doing anything, “Celaena, I can feel it, I need to help her.” She looked up at him. Her eyes a blazing silver, she nodded once, eyes landing back on the book she was reading, after a few more minutes she said, startling him, “I’ve got it,” he immediately got up. A small spark of hope filling his chest but he ignored it.

“Let’s do it,” he said, before she could say anything, “right now, this very moment,” this was the first time he had seen the Firedrake look concerned but she didn’t disagree, besides, if it didn’t work, Rhysand and the inner circle would never know, they didn’t have much time if what he suspected was true, his family would understand, they had to.

She nodded again, running out of the Day Court library and down a long winding staircase, he didn’t ask where she was going, just followed, by the time they were reaching the bottom, he was out of breath, the exhaustion of running and barely sleeping for weeks could come later, love first.

“Grab Truth-teller and make a semi-deep cut along your forearm, don’t ask questions just do,” Amren snapped, dropping to the cold stone floor and flipping through the book violently, he indeed didn’t ask questions, just did, he made the cut, his blood flowing quickly. The ruby liquid like a river. Amren grabbed his harm harshly before dipping her child-sized fingers into the liquid and drawing marks on the ground, the same marks Celaena had drawn, though there was a difference between then and now, he was not afraid, he would not be afraid.

-

He forgot how terrifying it was, standing infront of the sickly green portal that would lead him—hopefully—to his darling, if he could even call her that, perhaps he would come all this way and show himself fully to her just for her to send him back home, when she didn’t realise that she was his love, was this all for nothing? Was he so pathetic that the first person that had shown him a love that wasn’t platonic made him think and act like this? No, this couldn’t all be for nothing.

He shook his head, trying to disperse those thoughts, Amren was eyeing him but said nothing, she had been incredibly patient, it was almost like she knew something he didn’t, there was no other reason for her to act in such a manner, she started tapping her foot on the floor impatiently, but still stayed silent, everything was so odd— right. He had to go now. If it was anything like last time then the portal would not be here much longer.

Breathing in deeply and exhaling, he went through it, picturing nothing but her lovely face, that pure smile that made her look goddess-like, the strawberry blush that covered her cheeks when he said something about her, the way she put her hands on her hips to prove a point not realising that she was like a beautiful siren to his sailor, the beautiful maiden seducing the unprepared guard, she was his temptress without even trying. Lovely.

-

He landed face-first on a marble checkered floor, the first thing he noticed was the haughty laughter and clinking of glasses all around him, he got up, groaning as the pain retested in his nose, he ignored it, everyone around him was in dresses and suits, except him. People around him were eyeing him and some blushing as they took in his body but relatively ignored him, Azriel bestowed the same upon them.

He also noticed a mousy-brown haired man watching him from a wall, in the same moment, another plain looking man appeared and instead walked up to him and offered a glass of champagne, he refused a couple of times but the man didn’t stop insisting so he grabbed the glass but didn’t drink it, he keep surveying his surroundings but there was no sign of Celaena anywhere, but if his dream was right, then she was near a wooden door. And she looked like she was in a hallway. The servants quarters, kitchens, or even power-rooms were his guesses.

He didn’t think to hard on it as he started running down halls and rooms, his surroundings seemed to become more familiar from the dream so he kept going, he was nearly there to where I knew Celaena was when something hard hit his head, he slammed into a wall but got up instantly and drew Truth-teller—the blade mercifully staying with him this time—he turned and faced the wait from before. He drew a simple long dagger and threw it—aiming for his head. Thankfully, he missed, moving to the side before welding his blade and slicing along his neck, the man bled out instantly and fell to the floor, not even a worthy opponent.

He didn’t linger long, wiping the blood off of his blade quickly and breaking out into a run as he raced to find his love, small puddles of blood lay on the floor, the further he went the larger they became, what the Hell? Bodies started appearing, the inflicted wounds janky and uneven, their eyes still open. Gazing to the covered sky. No matter what they had done—he still sent a silent prayer for them to whatever Gods inhabited this world, the Mother was not here to save him, she never had. Anyway.

He slowed down as to not slip and stopped, listening for anything, anything that could help, he heard gurgling, choking even, he turned another corner and beheld the sight in front of him, there she was, her sweat-covered forehead leaning against the doorframe of that oak door. Blood spilling out from her wicked mouth. Her lovely skin covered in old—and new—blood, blood, there was so much of it.

He slammed to his knees and came before his lovely Fire, her eyes flicked to his but held no emotion, the golden ring in them gone dull, she was dying, the woman he had dreamed about every second he had been away from, dying—suffering, he didn’t know what to do. Azriel had planned everything he was going to do and say to her when he was here but now. . . Now he was here. He was completely lost.

Her expression grew pained as time went on and he got enough sense to act, he took off his shirt and ripped it up into strips, wiping away all the blood to see what he was working with, she bore many wounds but he knew those were not the main cause, it was invisible, poison. He looked to the oak door and, before he could think straight, put his whole body weight into it and started shoving into it, it didn’t take long for the door to snap off its hinges and bang open, he rushed to the sink and started collecting water. Washing Celaena’s wounds and making her drink the liquid. He didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t very familiar with poison, only using it a handful of times, and the Cauldron knew what poisons people used in this world, Azriel had no antidote. He was useless.

He started crying then, utterly useless, perhaps this was his punishment for all the horrible things he’d done in his lifetime, forced to watch his heart stop in front of him, he didn’t stop the tears, didn’t stop them as they fell onto her pretty face, she was crying as well, neither could tell which tears were their own. He rested his brow on hers, closing his eyes and wishing to anyone that would listen to save her.

He heard the panting of breath first, he turned his head slightly to see Dorian rushing their way, covered head to toe in blood, a dagger hanging from his grip, his face laced with anguish as he took in his friend—friends, Celaena made a small whimpering sound as she spotted him, the Prince got on his knees as grabbed her hand, rubbing his thumb across the scarred-skin, “I’m sorry,” he breathed, “I’m so damn sorry. Cel. I left you for five minutes and they attacked me, I fought them off the best I could—I see you did aswell,” a soft laugh accompanied by a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “it was my Father that sent the men, he tried to take us both out, I should’ve known this would happen, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. . .” The Crown-prince was shaking with barely contained tears.

This was all his fault, it was his fault Celaena Sardothien and Dorian Havillard were suffering, being punished for being good, being fare, these humans were infinitely better than him and yet they were suffering, it was cruel, it was torture. It was injustice.

He distantly heard panicked yelling—for the Champion and her friend, not him,—the stomping of feet and clashing of swords against swords, yet no one moved, there was no point, not when time was running out, her heart would only beat so long. A person could only be so strong for so long.

He heard a shocked gasp as those loud footsteps stopped, he didn’t turn around this time, though, he did react when a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, he just kept staring at those lovely eyes, the dulled blue that had once been brighter than the sky, she was the light he had been searching for-for centuries. And now that light was going out. The fire in her was getting smothered.

“Azriel!” He heard someone yell in his ear, he came to, realising it was Chaol, he turned his head, looking into the man’s eyes, he didn’t move, just met eyes with her again, watching as her breathing turned slower, how she closed her eyes and didn’t open them for longer periods of time, he heard the Captain swear—a colourful combination—he pushed him aside and ran to his friend, holding her face in his hands. Azriel just watched. He watched as Chaol yelled for the antidote, watched as Dorian was dragged away by struggling guards, their expressions apologetic.

He watched, just as he had done his whole life, the only thing he had ever been good at—apart from killing and torturing, but that was and never would be something he was proud of,—he watched as one of Chaol’s men shoved a strange liquid down Celaena’s throat. Blood kept flowing from out her mouth but she swallowed. Nothing happened, it was too late, it would never work, he saw the truth in her eyes, she knew this was the end.

He crawled over the blood to her, putting his scarred hands that were so beautiful to her on her face, the marks looked so strange on her un-marred skin, beauty and the beast, he kissed her lightly, his lips staining with the scarlet liquid, he looked deep into her eyes. Hazel orbs meeting those of cerulean. Water and earth. The perfect clash.

In that moment, he used all the power he had to beg to the Gods, to anything, that he would do anything to let her live, even if that meant the end of him, he used everything he had to ask for mercy, he felt a strange thing flow through him, like a curious cat rubbing against his legs. Though its voice was older than the obsidian blade that lay discarded mere-meters away, “and what would you give me in return?” It purred. “Anything” he whispered, anything.

“Your soul, even?” Curious, to see what he would do for love, “my soul, yes,” it made a humming noise, like it was contemplating its options, if it could even do that, “your love will live, but you will not be standing by her side while she does, that is your price, if you visit this world again I will see to it that your Fae girl will perish.” It said. It’s voice cold and cruel, and—Fae girl? Celaena was fae, well, that wasn’t much of a shock but. . . Why didn’t she tell him? It made so much sense now, that un-earthly grace she held, the beauty she possessed that no human should have. Fae. He would’ve laughed in any other circumstances. But not this one.

“Okay, yes, i agree, but give me at least ten minutes with her,” he said at last, Chaol and Dorian were giving eachother wary glances as they watched Azriel talk to himself, he didn’t care, though, not when he felt the thing nod its head and watched in wonder as Celaena’s face brightened ever so slightly, her breathe evening out, it had worked, it had damn worked!

He kissed her again and again, he knew his time was running out now but he had enough time to kiss her, everyone else excused themselves, their faces full of shock and amazement at Celaena Sardothien’s recovery, but he didn’t care. He looked at the assassin again. Fearful for their time to end.

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, brushing his fingers down her cheek, his beautiful, wicked thing, the woman with a heart of fire, his Fireheart, he had to leave her and yet he had never loved her more, the lady who walked with death by her side, the girl that smiled at the sun that rose and frowned at the sun that set, the female that kissed the scars on his hands and called them beautiful, she would make a great queen. And an even better lover.

He kissed her once more, the last time before grabbing a folded up piece of paper from his pocket and placing it in her hands gently, she didn’t move to pick it up or read it but that was fine, she didn’t have to, he didn’t cry this time, no, he smiled. Smiled as he looked deep into her eyes and said, no pain in his voice, “I have loved you from the very first moment I saw you, you were—and are, incredible. Never in my five hundred years of existence have I met someone like you. And I damn well hope the person that steals your heart realises that, you and I both knew this wouldn’t last, no matter how hard we wished it otherwise, there is a female in my world who is just as amazing, and I think you would love her, she’s not you—and never will be. But I think it would be easy for me to love her. As easy as it was to love you.” She nodded her head slowly, still dazed but seemed to understand what he was getting at.

“What is her name?” She got out, her eyes held no agony or jealousy, just pure, unfiltered love, he smiled, showing all his teeth, “her name is Gwyneth Berdara,” she smiled at that, copying his, she hit his shoulder in a playful way before saying, “very well, send me a solstice card,” he laughed, it wasn’t loud but it was full. Gods he adored this woman.

“You can count on it,” he said, she laughed softly at that, he kissed her head in goodbye before getting up, Azriel Shadowsinger was still smiling as he grabbed Truth-teller and made a return portal, and he was still smiling when he arrived back in the Day Court library, he was moving instantly, hugging Amren quickly before flying back home to Velaris.

-

He landed hard on the main balcony of the House of Wind but shook it off and made his way to the library, Clotho letting him in with a wink and a smirk, he ran through stacks and stacks of books and papers, the Priestesses curious but didn’t stop him, he kept running. And then he saw her—

He pulled to a stop right in front of her, her copper hair shining in the light of the candles, she didn’t reject him when he put his hands on her face, warm skin meeting that of cold, nor did she pull away when he put his lips against hers, no, Gwyn just kissed him back.

Yes, both Azriel and Celaena had a lot of healing to do but that would come with time, he knew the assassin was strong and would survive and not only that but flourish, but him on the other hand? He wanted this incredible Valkyrie by his side as he did, he wanted to wake up to her teal eyes sparkling and know she wasn’t going anywhere, to know she saw all of him and embraced it.

Celaena Sardothien and Gwyneth Berdara were similar in a lot of ways, but also so, so different, and he loved that, Azriel would never stop loving the haughty female that shone like the sun but he also had a lot more love to give, love that was reserved for the sassy red head and her only. His Oristian.

-

Celaena’s POV (bonus)

Everything hurt, and not just physically, not as Azriel said what he had said and handed her a piece of paper and simply left, she knew things would end badly but like this? Celaena had no idea what or who he had been whispering to before—because she’d slipped in and out consciousness many times—but all she did know was that whatever he had done, had worked. And she was so, so grateful, but. . . Now he was gone, she was alone again. Well, not really.

Dorian sat next to her, his eyes vacant as a few Royal healers patched him up, said Healers did the same to her, working quickly and quietly, no more than ghosts, she had stopped crying some time ago but her eyes still burned, her body still shook. She had nearly died. That wasn’t something someone got over instantly, Celaena had a feeling it would be a while of healing. Especially with the news.

It had gotten out that the King had attempted to assassinate his Champion and Son and the public had been outraged, revolting against him and seemingly snapping, it seemed all the citizens had gotten sick of the Rules he’d in-forced, and, rightfully so. Many people had-had enough of their family members being sent to Endovier or its sister camp, Caculla, the Assassin couldn’t help but agree with them.

But what had shocked her the most was that one of the King of Ardalan’s court members had gone rouge and killed the man, stabbing him right through the heart with his Rapier, she had been incredibly amused to hear that, apparently the old bastard was right, there were a lot of traitors working for him. Though, Dorian hadn’t found it amusing, simply nodding and staring at nothing, like he had been doing for two hours now.

She couldn’t find it in her cold heart to feel sorry for him. No, not as she remembered how much the man had made her and her family suffer for so many years, he deserved it, everyone in Erelia could breathe.

Sighing, she finally decided to open the folded paper the Shadowsinger had given her, it was relatively new but still had a few ink stains on it and lots of folded marks, as if he had opened and closed it many times before giving it to her. She breathed in—this was the only thing she could ever remember him by, faintly, she could smell the night-chilled mist and leather of his sent, and if she tried hard enough. She could almost imagine that lovely smile of his that she adored so well, her Azriel—closing her eyes for a second, she exhaled and began reading. . .

‘Celaena Sardothien-

I write you this to tell you all the things I could not voice out loud, if you are reading this then we did indeed not last, it pains me that we did not get to see how far our love went for one another but I think, even with the short amount of time we had together, that it was one of the happiest few weeks of my life, I have lived a long life but experiencing such a short amount with you has made me realise how unfulfilling it was without you in it, you made me feel alive.

I hope this letter finds you well and I hope that you are happier now or are getting there, you deserve all the joyous moments that you will have, I have never meant anything more than that—except for when I told you I loved you, perhaps I love another person when you’re reading this but you will always hold a special place in my heart, I hope the man that steals your fiery heart is worthy of it. And I hope he knows how damn lucky he is. A piece of my heart will forever belong to you, even when we both are nothing more than dust, I am yours and you are mine, just in a different world. Star-crossed lovers, remember?

—Azriel Shadowsinger’

The End. (Actually)

Note: this series is finished, I know it might not seem like much to some but this series kept me going when I was having a rough time and that is why I want to say a special thank you to these people;

-A big thank you to @cynthiesjmxazrielslover for supporting me through this all, I know we are only mutuals but you are a great friend to me and I couldn’t have done this without you, you’re my motivator and my inspiration, I love you girl, stay amazing. 🫶

-A big thank you to @azrielslittleslut for liking and believing In this series from the start, your stories are a huge inspiration and I aspire to one day write as beautifully as you do, Mwah. ❤️

-A big thank you to @shadowsingercassia for loving all of the chapters and making me want to keep going, you appeared halfway through the series but you might as well have been here since I started writing, your love for what I do has helped me more than you could’ve imagined, I know I am not a very big or popular writer but the one little like you give me amounts to hundreds others could give. I love you so, so much. Keep being the person you are. 🫶

-some thank you’s to @aelincaddel, @yashiw, and @snoopyspace for loving this series so much that you asked to be on the taglist, that little thing has meant so much to me. Thank you, lovelies. ❤️

Thank you once again everyone, even if you just liked one of the chapters from this series and no other, or rebloged one or even commented, thank you, that small gesture of appreciation made my day. The epilogue for this series is already written and I hope you all like it. I know some people wanted Celaena and Azriel to end up together but—sadly—that didn’t happen, but I hope the ending was still good. If anyone has any questions about something in the series. Please do ask.

I love you all so much and I hope to make more stories that are just as entertaining. ❤️❤️

-

[sjmvillainweek]

SJM Villain Week Prompts List (October 1st - 7th)

Day 1- Villain Origin Story/Sacrifice

Villain Origin Story:

There's always been a question of if evil is made or born. Were our Villains evil from their first breath, or did a forbidden Romance gone wrong create the bad guy? Or was it an abusive family, perhaps a curse?

Sacrifice:

What did our villains give up or lose to reach this point? Was it ripped from them or was it something they willingly gave? What did they gain from what they've lost?

Day 2- Planning/Weakness

Planning:

What went into making this happen? How did Maeve truly rise to power? Was it all warfare, or what shady deals were made and with who? Our villains can't be the origin of evil, so what happened beforehand to encourage this

Weakness:

Achilles had his heel, Percy Jackson has his loyalty, Aelin has self sacrifice. What is the villain's tragic Weakness? What would have brought them to their knees had the bad guys been able to find it out? How do they hide it? What have they done about it?

Day 3- Secret Skills/Deception

Secret Skills:

Is there a weapon they are skilled with? What does training look like for them? Do they have powerful magic? What does their spellbook collection look like? Do they have a hobby that has turned into an advantage for them? What is hiding in their arsenal?

Their Deception:

We got here somehow. Write that origin, that first lie that allowed our villains the position of power they've gained. Is there a lie they regret, or one they're proud of the most? Can anyone see through their lies?

Day 4- Their Reign/Behind Closed Doors

Their Reign:

We never truly see things from the villain's perspective. What did things look like Under the Mountain? What happened in Maeve’s throne room? What is the Eternal City like when just the Asteri are there? Was it all truly bad or was there fun? Did their Reign actually do anything potentially good?

Behind Closed Doors:

What's the villain like when they're truly alone? Are they lonely? Do they feel shame? Are they self righteous? Do they cuddle up with a glass of wine and their beloved secret pet? Do they have an odd habit that brings them joy?

Day 5- The Villain Wins AU/Aftermath

Villain wins AU:

Either in an AU world or the one we know and love, tragic news has broken: The hero has fallen (either by death or in love with our Villain) and hope has left the Maasverse. What happens now that no one stands in the way of evil? Will our hero and villain enjoy an unexpected mafia style romance, will they become the rulers or their world?

Aftermath:

What impact has the villain left? What will be their legacy, their infamy? What is the ancient story told about them to keep faelings from disobeying their parents? How has the world changed due to them?

Day 6- Afterlife/The Villains Sense Of Style

After life:

After the villain is gone, they've entered the world beyond their own. What does their fate look like? Is it filled with regret, punishment, finding peace? Was it worth all of this?

The villains sense of style: 

Most of SJM’s female villains are described as beautiful creatures. Maeve with her dark song and beauty, Amarantha is known as the “Never-Fading Flower.” We have even heard her refer to Beron as handsome in ACOTAR. What does our Villain do for their care routine? What's their fashion sense like? How high of a priority is their appearance?

Day 7- Free day

Self-explanatory, this is a day to go utterly wild. Write whatever your heart desires about our favorite villains. Their world is entirely in your hands.

Here is our list of Villains from across the SJM universe for reference.

And remember these prompts are just meant for inspiration, use them as loosely or as strictly as you want. With the Villains in the spotlight, who knows where they'll take you.

We'll see you in October.

[shadowhandss60]

Dorian flirting with Celaena:

I brought you books, chocolate and a puppy. Wanna play some chess and cuddle?

Dorian flirting with Manon:

Rip out my throat, I DARE you…where yo chains at?