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Since when does everyone on tiktok hate Nessian?

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I have a question. I haven’t read TOG, but I saw a tiktok that said elide x lorcan and elain x azriel were basically the same couple, and I would just like to know if anyone else thinks that?

Me personally, I am an elucien and gwynriel girly till I die. This tiktok just caught me off guard and want to know what others think.

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I’ve been so busy writing my own books I’ve forgotten my fanfics 😔 maybe one day I’ll finish them but regardless, thank you for reading my gwynriel fanfics 🫶 I appreciate you.

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Just saw a comment on an elriel TikTok that said Catrin and Gwyn are light singers and Gwyn actually died, and Catrin took her place and is evil. Like I’m sorry, that theory is INSANE.

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Every day I’m thankful to be an English major and have stellar reading comprehension, especially when it comes to ACOTAR 🤍🧚💌

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Saw a tiktok that said nesta is elriel’s biggest shipper and im just 🤨🤨

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I’ve Been Loving You For Quite Some Time (and it’s about time we do something about it)

synopsis: Gwyn Berdara and Azriel Night have been friends since their senior year of college. Years later they find themselves both working at Moonlight University. They've strictly stuck to being friends, but when they travel to Nesta and Cassian’s elopement, the last thing they ever expected was to wind up drunk and standing at the altar of a drive-thru wedding chapel.

word count: 839

sorry that this chapter is so short and that it took so long to get published. I simply needed to get it over with so we could get to the good stuff starting next chapter. I was also in a major writing block. Don't hate me that it kinda sucks :)

read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54767785/chapters/142422286

or below the cut!

Gwyn

Today is the day. After watching Nesta and Cassian circle around the idea of being in love with each other for all of their senior year of college, they finally admitted to it right before graduation.  She watched two of her best friends tease each other relentlessly until one day they fell in love. They got engaged a couple of years after they started their jobs – Nesta works at a publishing company and Cassian teaches AP History at the local high school. 

Today is finally Nesta and Cassian’s wedding.

Nesta’s white dress falls to the floor and she runs her hands over it as she looks into the mirror, admiring it. It’s lace and hugs her body perfectly, showing off her curves. The classic white ribbon in Gwyn’s hair falls down her back as she tightens it. Her teal dress isn’t as tight as Nesta’s but it still fits her body in a way that makes Gwyn feel confident, like she could walk into any room and not feel scared. But maybe that’s because Azriel would be right by her side too.

The two of them add the finishing touches to their makeup, Nesta draws on her lips with her signature red lipstick and Gwyn applies a light, natural pink color to her lips. And the necklace that rests around Gwyn’s neck shimmers under the dimming lights of the hotel room. 

She received it from her sister, Catrin, years ago before they left for college. Gwyn stayed in Velaris while Catrin traveled across the continent. She always dreamed of doing that, and when she had the opportunity, she grasped it by the horns and took it. But that Solstice break, when the two sisters were reunited, that was the last night it would be the last Solstice they would spend together. 

Tears pool in Gwyn’s eyes when she thinks of the day Catrin stopped breathing. Her lifeless body lay on the concrete as blood crusted on her forehead. It confused Gwyn, how she  could walk away with just a few scares – mental and physical ones – but Catrin didn’t. No, she took the brunt of the attack and it haunted Gwyn every day.

“Gwyn, Gwyn.” Nesta’s voice brings Gwyn out of her thoughts. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m sorry. I was thinking about this necklace.” her slim fingers wrap around the turquoise diamond on the gold chain. “But today is your day, we don’t need to talk about me.”

One of Nesta’s eyebrows raises, she knows Gwyn isn’t okay, they’ve known each other for far too long that Gwyn can’t hide anything from Nesta. 

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.” Gwyn nods. “And if things get to be too much, I can talk to you.”

“Or your new husband,” Nesta says with a wink. 

Swarms of butterflies and pegasi fill Gwyn’s stomach at the mention of Azriel. For someone who has only been married for a couple of days, to someone who she doesn’t even know in a way that normal couples know each other, like Nesta and Cassian, she is awfully affected by something as simple as Azriel’s name.

“Come on.” She links her arm through Nesta’s. “Let’s go get you married.”

*~~~*

Gwyn’s arm links with Azriel’s as the two of them walk down to where the arch of white lilies and ivy. Cassian’s already standing down there, tears pooling in his eyes as he thinks of his future with his best friend. His soulmate.

Nesta and Cassian’s wedding is simple. There’s only the four of them, as Nesta and Cassian decide to elope. But on the cliff above the Adriata Sea, the waves crash against the rocks, Nesta and Cassian read their vows.

Gwyn has never seen something so romantic. 

Because it is only the four of them, there isn’t a reception – Nesta and Cassian have planned there to be one when they return to Velaris – so today, the four of them head to lunch afterwards. However, that doesn’t last long.

Cassian can’t keep his hands off Nesta. If Gwyn had thought it was bad before they were married, she couldn’t have been more wrong. Cassian consistently leaves kisses on Nesta’s cheek or the temple of her head or her forehead or her neck. Nesta returns the favor ever so often whenever she isn’t completely flushed with blush or hiding behind her hands. It’s rare to see Nesta this flustered but Gwyn loves it when her friend lets down those walls and show’s how happy she truly is.

So when the two of them get up, leaving early for their honeymoon, and leave Azriel and Gwyn alone at the dining table, it turns from a wedding reception to what looks like a first date.

Except it’s not the first date Gwyn actually wanted.

“And then there were two.” Gwyn teases, twiddling her thumbs in her lap. She never knows what to do in these situations, and the fact that she’s with the most handsome guy ever, she really doesn’t know what to do.

“Wanna get out of here?”

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How I sleep knowing that Gwyn is such a nice and sweet person that everyone likes her - even Azriel’s SHADOWS

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Azriel wrapped his cloak around Gwyn. Lucien wrapped his cloak around Elain.

That’s all I’ll say.

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Someone on TikTok saying if Elain had two mates they would be Tamlin and Azriel and NOT LUCIEN is crazy 😦

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I’ve Been Loving You For Quite Some Time (and it’s about time we do something about it)

synopsis: Gwyn Berdara and Azriel Night have been friends since their senior year of college. Years later they find themselves both working at Moonlight University. They've strictly stuck to being friends, but when they travel to Nesta and Cassian’s elopement, the last thing they ever expected was to wind up drunk and standing at the altar of a drive-thru wedding chapel.

word count: 1989

read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54767785/chapters/140161510

or below the cut!

Gwyn

As her hands run over the front of her wedding dress, the more clear her head becomes. Tonight is the first night of the rest of her life. She wonders what Azriel is thinking, is he as excited as she is for what’s to come? What will their life look like together?

Nesta adjusts the ribbon in Nesta’s hair and pulls a ringlet over Gwyn’s shoulder. There’s a permanent small smile on Gwyn’s face, either from the champagne they were drinking to celebrate or from the fact that she was marrying Azriel in forty-five minutes. Probably a bit of both.

The hollow bang of someone’s – probably Cassian’s – knuckles on the front door brings Nesta’s attention away from Gwyn.

“Here, use this,” Nesta reaches into her makeup bag and hands Gwyn a nude, pinkish lipstick. “I'll let Cassian and Azriel know we’re almost ready.”

The lipstick barely makes a difference but it draws a sense of confidence on Gwyn. With one last look in the mirror, she brushes her copper locks behind her shoulders. It’s time.

Nesta and Cassian are off giggling on the other side of the room, her head falling against Cassian’s chest. They aren’t married yet but seem to be in the honeymoon stage already. Butterflies fill Gwyn’s stomach when she realizes she’s about to have that with Azriel. He’s currently standing in the hotel room’s kitchenette, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest. His tattoos look like shadows circling his exposed forearms along with his rings that shimmer under the lights he’s directly underneath. It’s like he’s front and center at a concert or show of his own. And Gwyn is happily standing in the front row, right in front of Azriel.

He straightens out when the two of them make eye contact. His hand runs through his perfectly styled, yet just a tad bit messy (like he didn’t put a whole lot of gel in when he was getting ready), hair. 

“Gwyn, you look beautiful.” 

“Thank you, fiance. You look handsome.” She takes a step towards him and reaches out for him, wanting to touch him. 

Slowly, Azriel’s hands reach out for her waist, but softly asks if it’s okay to touch her too. He knows her past, at least some of it, and the last thing he would ever want to do is scare Gwyn away.

Gwyn nods. The feel of Azriel’s hands on her waist makes her shiver. It’s been a long time since someone has held her, touched her, like this. Even in such a simple way, Gwyn distanced herself with the fear that what happened a few years ago would happen again. 

*~~~*

The white church stood at the top of one of the many cliffs in Adriata. Waves crash against the rocks and Azriel’s hand tightens around Gwyn’s as they reach the front door.

The muffled sound of another couple saying their vows is background noise as the two of them sign up to go in next. No one else is in the chapel, meaning it’s now their wedding is only a few minutes away. 

With Azriel at the end of the aisle and Gwyn behind the arched doors. Her hand wraps around the seashell door knob and the heavy door pulls open. There’s a handsome smile on Azriel’s face, and it only grows the closer Gwyn gets to him. 

Nesta places a quick kiss on Gwyn’s cheek before moving to stand behind Gwyn, mirror to where Cassian is standing behind Azriel.

The officiant reads from his book but Gwyn’s not listening. She’s lost in the pools green and gold of Azriel’s eyes. And he’s lost in the teal pools in Gwyn’s eyes. His thumb gently brushes across the top of Gwyn’s hand and there’s a sense of contentment flowing through her veins. A ribbon ties around them and it feels like something tugs between them. 

“Gwyn,” the officiant brings her out of her haze and gives her a small smile, “do you take Azriel to be your lawfully wedded husband, as long as you both shall live?”

A simple vow, yet one that she means with her whole chest. As she says, “I do.” She makes a promise that she’ll write a more romantic set of vows to tell Azriel in private, and when she’s not intoxicated.

She slides the black band onto his ring finger. A perfect fit, and a perfect match to his other rings too. 

“Azriel, do you take Gwyn to be  your lawfully wedded wife, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” Azriel says with a smile that makes Gwyn’s cheeks. He, too, makes a silent promise that he’ll tell Gwyn more romantic vows in a special moment when they’re alone and don’t have alcohol in their systems.

He slides the teal and gold band onto Gwyn’s pale, freckled ring finger and goosebumps cover her skin. It’s beautiful. He could not have chosen a better ring than this one 

“You may now kiss the bride,” the officiant says, stepping back to give Gwyn and Azriel space.

The distance between the two of them closes as one of Azriel's hands wraps around her waist, the other holds her cheek. Gwyn’s hands are placed on his chest, his heart beating fast against her palm. 

Instead of kissing like most wedded couples, Azriel bends down and places a kiss on Gwyn’s cheek. His soft lips against her cheek make her smile, the muscles tensing that Azriel has to feel it beneath his mouth. She repeats the same action, placing a soft kiss on Azriel’s cheek. 

Their fingers lace together and they run out of the chapel and into to the start of their new life together.

*~~~*

The world is spinning around her. The Adriata skyline was swaying back and forth outside the window. The soft comfortable pillow she remembers resting her head on last night was replaced with something rock hard. But to Gwyn, that might have been even more comfortable than the actual pillows.

Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Gwyn sits up and looks to her left. Shock, surprise, anxiety all runs through her body. Azriel Night is in her bed, or maybe she’s in Azriel’s bed. Either way, Azriel Night is sleeping shirtless in bed next to Gwyn. Looking down at herself, she should be surprised that she’s wearing one of Azriel's shirt, but seeing him shirtless next to him, there’s less surprise and more humiliation. What the hell happened last night?

The sun reflects off of Azriel’s ring, but one of them shines brighter than the rest, like it wants to draw Gwyn’s attention. And it certainly does. 

Gwyn knows all of Azriel’s rings, so to see the black and teal ring sitting on her left ring finger. 

Fuck.

Gwyn grabs the first sweatshirt she sees, one of the many Moonlight University sweatshirts she has but this one just happens to be her favorite, and pulls it over her copper brown hair and covers the giant T-shirt she’s wearing.

With the amount of knocking and banging Gwyn’s putting on the door, she thought she might wake up the whole hotel. Luckily, Nesta answered soon enough that no one complained about Gwyn.

“Gwyn, what are you doing here?” Nesta asks as she rubs her eyes, the hangover just a tad bit prominent on Nesta’s face. 

“We need to talk.”

“Okay, okay, give me one second.” Nesta runs back into her room and grabs one of Cassian’s sweatshirts, pulling the red sweatshirt over her head so it’s now covering her nightgown. 

The lobby is mostly empty, just a few workers at the front desk and a few businessmen sitting around one of the larger tables. There’s coffee out at the bar and the two of them fill each mug to the rim. Gwyn adds cream and sugar, while Nesta only adds sugar.

“Are you okay, Gwyn?” Nesta asks, tucking one of her legs under her as she sits down. “You’re freaking me out.”

Gwyn holds out her left hand, the teal and gold rings shining under the sunlight that streams through the floor to ceiling windows of the hotel lobby. “We got married last night?”

“Yes you did,” Nesta says, lifting her coffee cup to her mouth to hide her smile. “I’m glad to see that you two are doing something about your crushes.”

Crushes. They both like each other. Az has feelings for Gwyn. Gwyn has feelings for Az. Like everyone else, the two of them should have dated and not jumped straight to a fucking wedding. 

“Nesta, we got drunk and MARRIED. Legally. I have a husband.” a perfect husband, but that’s besides the point. “I am a wife.”

“Yes, that’s normally what happens when two people get married.” Gwyn would normally appreciate Nesta’s sarcastic comments, but right now she wishes she would be serious and just be her friend. “And to think I was going to be the first wife out of the two of us.” 

“Nesta I’m serious. What if this changes how we are together?” Gwyn says, a look in her eyes that makes it seem like she’ll cry. “I can’t lose Azriel.”

“If things do change between you two, it’ll be for the good, Gwyn. It will be a good change.” 

“Do you think he’ll want to get a divorce when we get back to Velaris?” Gwyn’s head drops and she watches her finger circle around the rim of her coffee cup.

 Nesta reaches out, placing her hand on Gwyn’s thigh. “No, he has this look in his eyes when he sees you. I think you should give him a chance, have him court you.” Gwyn nods her head. Nesta stands up. “I’m going to go get some coffee for Cass, are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, I just need to think of what to say to Azriel.” 

“Let me know if you need anything.” Nesta says before leaving Gwyn. 

Gwyn sets her coffee down on the coffee table next to her and tucks her feet under her and 

“Hi Az.” Gwyn walks through the hotel room door to catch Azriel. Shirtless. Shirtless Azriel with glasses on the tip of his nose and a book in his hands.

“Hi baby.” his eyes look over the top of the book with a smile. A blush creeps onto Gwyn’s cheeks. He’s never called her baby before.

The bed goes down as Gwyn sits next to Azriel. Instinctively, she reaches out and grabs his hand and the book closes as he sets it on the bedside table. 

“Can we talk?”  She asks, looking down at their interconnected hands. This shouldn’t be happening. What if this is about to fall apart?

Az nods. “Are you okay?”

Never looking up from their hands, she asks, “Do you regret what happened last night?” 

His other scarred hand  goes to her cheek to make her look at him. She likes this, the feeling of his hands on her. It’s safer than she’s felt with anyone ever before. 

“Gwyn, I have no regrets. I’ve liked you for a very long time, and while I wish that we didn’t have to get drunk to do something about it, I am very happy to be married to you.”

There’s a deep blush on her cheeks again and she’s looking back at their hands. The band of his ring connects with Gwyn’s. 

“I’ve liked you for a very long time too. I am happy to be your wife, Azriel Night.”

Azriel’s large muscular arms wrap around Gwyn, pulling her into his side as they lay back against the headboard and the massive pile of pillows. A steady rhythm beats between them and Gwyn let's Azriel’s heartbeat bring her comfort..

He presses a soft kiss on her head that he’s certain that she doesn’t feel it but she does. It makes her heart race.

A husband. A wife. A new beginning to a wonderful life.

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I think Elain would thrive having her own circle. Feyre has Rhys and the Inner Circle of the Night Court. Nesta has Cassian and the Valkyries. Both women have a mate they know and love, but they also have friends of their own. Yes, it could be argued that Feyre and Rhys have the same friends, but she also has her art studio and business partner. She's branched out. She's built a full, fulfilling life, and has had the freedom to.

So has Nesta. She has Cassian. She has Gwyn and Emerie. She has her own home and her own purpose.

Elain was social as a human. She had friends, and she had a fiance she thought loved her. All of that was ripped away from her when she was Made.

She will always love her family--the Night Court is part of her extended family now as well, but she needs something that is hers. She needs her gardens, but she also needs her own purpose, her own people, her own love, and her own life.

She's trying to bloom where she's planted, but she can't. It's not working. She faces the window because she needs sunlight and a bigger world beyond it. She wants more--she's said as much.

If/when she does start falling for Lucien, she will flourish. The broader the world becomes again, the more trusting she becomes of herself/gains confidence, and a growing sense of purpose and fulfillment.

I could see her befriending Vassa and Jurian--two humans who absolutely know what she's going through.

I could see her warming to Lucien and opening up to him. Realizing what a genuinely good, sweet, gentle, and intelligent male he is. Watching him seamlessly and cleverly maneuver through a crowd like the most regal and elegant of emissaries, and tying back his hair, rolling up his sleeves, and catching fish in the stream with his bare hands and knowing exactly how to cook it. Being thoroughly overwhelmed by how good he looks in the firelight while they camp, and trusting herself--trusting him--enough that she realizes she's falling in love.

I could see her immediately hitting it off with the Lady of Autumn (and the Lady loving her/treating her like the daughter she never had). They would, of course, tease Lucien good-naturedly.

Helion would love her, and I think he would immediately see through the pretty face and know there's more to her than gardens and frivolous parties.

I could see Eris genuinely liking her too and being comically warm towards her in comparison to how he treats others (and Lucien never being entirely sure whether this is partly to get under his skin or not).

If I'm being honest, I could see Tamlin liking her quite a bit too once he gets past the whole Archeron thing and whatever hurt/anger he still feels towards Lucien.

I want to see her have it all.

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Scene I want w/ Gwyn & Rhys

Rhysand: I miss my sister. I miss being an older brother to her.

Gwyn: What do you miss about it most?

Rhysand: Everything. Annoying her. Teasing her. Being her conspirator and keeping her secrets. I have a family of my own now, but nothing can mend that loss.

Gwyn: It sounds like you were a good brother.

Rhysand: I tried to be.

Gwyn: I never had an older brother.

Rhysand: *softly* Would you like one?

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Baby, We're Fireproof

synopsis: After Gwyn's toaster catches fire, she never expected to fall for the hot firefighter who saves her. 

word count: 2118

read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54961258/chapters/139663018

or below the cut!

Azriel

Azriel: I can’t wait to see you tonight.

Gwyn: I can’t wait to see you.

Gwyn: I’m so excited ☺️

Azriel hasn’t been this excited for something in a long time. A week ago he saved the copper-haired, teal-eyed beauty from a small toaster fire. He hasn’t stopped thinking about it all week. Cassian has noticed too. The way Azriel reacts to the way his phone vibrates on the table. The smile on Azriel’s face whenever Gwyn texts him. Sometimes it’s a meme or a funny video that makes Azriel laugh so hard his cheeks hurt, sometimes it’s her reactions to the book he pointed out that day, or it’s a picture of her. Those are his favorite texts from Gwyn. The romance she’s reading lies on her chest or covering her smile, though he can tell she’s smiling from the way her skin wrinkles at her eyes and the pink blush creeping out from beneath the book. 

The day passes slowly as he rereads the book in case it comes up in conversation, he wants to be prepared to talk about it with Gwyn. 

Soon enough, it’s time to get ready.

Azriel changes into his classic black button-up, rolling the sleeves up to reveal the swirls of black ink on his forearms, matching the black slacks on his legs. The silver bands on his fingers shine under the fluorescent lights of his bathroom. Night-chilled mist and cedar fills the bathroom as he sprays his cologne.

He’s able to get through starting dinner – seasoning the chicken and leaving it in the hot pan to begin cooking, fresh cut green beans and the cut and washed potatoes are placed in the water-filled pots to begin cooking – before there’s a knock on his front door.

Azriel’s ringed fingers brush through his hair and he wipes his palms on his pants before pulling the door open to reveal Gwyn.  

“Hi!”

“Hey, Gwyn.” Azriel says, nerves wracking through his body. “You look really nice.” Nice? That’s the worst word he could have used to describe her. “I mean beautiful, you look beautiful.” ethereal would be an even better word, just like the books. But beautiful will suffice. 

Gwyn is dressed in an emerald dress that fell right below her knees. The sleeves cover most of her arms but leave some of her forearms and wrists exposed. The green contrasts perfectly against her copper hair, which is tied half up with a write ribbon. It was styled that way too, the day they met for the first time.

“Thank you. May I come in?” Gwyn points to the foyer of his house.

“Oh yes, of course, obviously.” he quotes what she said the day they met with a ridiculously cheesy, flirty smile.

“Quoting me I see. I must have had a good impression on you.” she teases. 

In his head, Azriel knows that this girl is his dream girl. Now he has to prove it.

“Setting a toaster on fire is a good way of doing that.” he teases back.

This banter is what Azriel has always looked for. He’s never found it with anyone, but now with Gwyn, he doesn’t think anyone could ever come close.  

“You have a piano? Do you play?” Gwyn immediately runs out of the kitchen and across the living room to where the piano rests in the corner, the last rays of the sunset flood through the windows onto the piano.

“Sometimes. My mother plays more often when she’s over. Do you?” Azriel reaches her as she takes a seat in front of the piano. He leans on his elbows as he watches her. There’s a glimmer in her eyes as she presses her delicate fingers so softly on the keys that no notes play. 

“I do. My sister and I used to play when we were little. She grew out of it – she was more wild and adventurous than I was – but I love to sing and play the piano. Now I play to remember and honor her memory.”

Azriel notices something shift within Gwyn. The use of was made him assume something happened to her sister, but he doesn’t push her to answer. After all, they’ve only been texting and known each other for a week.

“Do you mind if I play?” Gwyn asks. Then clarifies, “just for a few moments?”

“Not at all, I’m going to check on dinner. I’ll be right back.” Azriel leans off the piano and smiles at Gwyn before he’s off to the kitchen. If only it was appropriate to kiss her cheek. 

The soft melodies of Moonlight Sonata fill his house and suddenly it feels like more of a home than ever before. 

He may have stayed in the kitchen far longer than he thought because the fifteen minutes of Moonlight Sonata have passed and his house is quiet once again, only the soft scuffs of Gwyn’s shoes and the scraping of the pots and pans as he begins to plate dinner.

 “That was beautiful, Gwyn.” Az confesses, leaning against the counter and Gwyn slides onto one of his barstools at the counter, though she doesn’t stay there longer than a few seconds. 

“Thank you, it’s one of my favorite pieces to play. Especially at night. Maybe you should play for me.” she suggests, stepping so close to Azriel that she can reach out and hold onto the collar of his shirt.

His heart beats against his chest as she begins to slide her other hand up and over his chest. This boldness she’s portraying, it’s Azriel’s favorite thing. Sure, they have flirted over text, but this is completely different. 

He wants more of it.

“Maybe I will. Now,” His hand slides across her waist to hold her. There’s a slight tense up but then she relaxes into his hold. He changes the conversation, “Are you okay?”

“Yes; I just haven’t been on a date in years, I’m not very used to this. But I like it.” There’s a confirming smile on her face as her hands connect behind Azriel’s neck.

“Good, but please let me know if you aren’t comfortable or if there’s something I can do.”

“I will. Now please tell me what you were going to say before.”

“Why’d you call me Shadowsinger?”

“You were humming under your breath when you were at my house and there’s something mysterious about you that I want to get to know.” Gwyn says sweetly, playing with his hair on the back of his head. There’s a smile on her face that Azriel wants to paint into his mind forever.

“Well, I hope you liked it.” Az laughs.

“I did, it was beautiful. Do you sing?”

“Sometimes, though I don’t believe it is as beautiful as yours.”

There’s a blush on her cheeks again, highlighting the constellations of freckles on her cheeks. 

“We should sing together sometime, then I can see if you’re telling the truth or not.”

He clears his throat, “Will you help me set the table? Dinner’s ready.”

“Yes, yes.”

Hesitantly, Azriel lets go of Gywn and she steps away. Azriel lays the bowl of freshly made mashed potatoes on the table. Gwyn asks, “Is there anything I can do to help? You made such a nice dinner and I haven’t helped yet.”

“I didn’t mind at all, Gwyn. But you could find something to drink if you’d like. The alcohol is in that cabinet and any other drinks I have – water, lemonade, stuff like that – are in the fridge.” 

She sticks to something non-alcoholic and somehow he has the ingredients to make a Shirley Temple. He really listened to what she said on the 

They stick to simple, first date conversation for a while until something hits Gwyn and she asks, “Is it appropriate to ask what happened to your hands?” Gwyn asks softly, looking up at him quickly before looking back down at her plate. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It isn’t any of my business and we don’t know each other that well.”

Azriel reaches out and places his scarred hand on top of Gwyn’s. “Gwyn, this is a date, a chance to get to know each other.”

It’s almost like a movie or one of her books. Whatever is going on between them, it’s something Gwyn thought was possible in the worlds that lived inside her head. Ruby red flushes on her cheeks at the touch of Azriel’s hand and at his words. She rotates her hand and laces her fingers with Azriel.

“When I was young, my mother and I were in an accident. Our house caught on fire and while my mother ran outside, I ran back in to grab something. The fire picked up and I almost got trapped. Luckily the fire department was already there and saved me. I was bullied for most of school because of my hands, so I isolated myself but I always wanted to help people, to save people. When I graduated high school, I never really wanted to go to college so I went to the fire academy. I have my paramedic certification as well.” Azriel nods and reaches for his glass of whiskey, a way to protect himself from potentially doing something stupid.

Gwyn drops her fork and holds his hand with both her hands. “Azriel,” she whispers, lifting his hand to her lips. Her lips softly brush against the healed scars. 

To outsiders, it might not seem like a big deal. But to Azriel, it means everything.

After many feelings about leaving dishes in the sink long after dinner, the dirty dishes rest in the sink until after their date is over, Gwyneth and Az sit outside on his patio. For a house in the suburbs, his back patio is large. It’s decorated with minimal patio furniture, mostly a darker gray, and there’s a firepit in the center of the patio.

“Have a seat, I’m going to start a fire.”

The fire crackles, crickets chirp in the distance, and the two of them cuddle in silence. Both of Gwyn’s hands are holding one of Az’s and his other arm is wrapped around her shoulders.

“It’s beautiful here.”

With her eyes on the stars, Azriel takes the time to admire how beautiful she is; how right her hand feels in his; how perfectly her meshes into the Azriel’s side. The constellations of stars in the sky can’t compare to the freckles on her face, dotted across her neck, and even her chest and shoulders. If he were to open a dictionary to the word beautiful, Gwyn’s picture would be there, front and center.

“It is,” he says softly, his eyes never leaving Gwyn. 

“I think I take how beautiful Velaris is for granted. After tonight, I won’t anymore.” There’s something in her voice that makes it seem like there’s a story to that, but as she leans closer into Azriel and rests her head on his shoulder, he drops his head onto hers.

It’s almost midnight when they stand up and head towards the front door, hand-in-hand of course.

“I had a wonderful time, Azriel.” Gwyn leans against the door frame as she holds his hand in both of hers. Az’s other hand is against the hinge, above her head.

“So did I; would you like to do it again sometime?” 

With a smile on her face, Gwyn pushes up on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to Azriel’s cheek. “I’d love to.”

As Gwyn lowers from her tiptoes, Azriel never breaks eye contact and there’s something beautiful that sparks in his chest. 

Letting go of her hands, Azriel moves to hold her cheeks. “Would it be okay if I kissed you, Gwyn.”

Gwyn nods softly, but the look in her eyes tells Azriel that it’s something she wants more than anything. 

This kiss picks up and Gwyn’s arms are back around his neck. It’s wonderful, magical, and neither of them don’t want it to stop. 

But it does moments later.

His thumb runs across his now swollen bottom lip, and Gwyn is breathless as she begins to step outside. But she stops, wrapping her hand around the door hinge and turns over her shoulder, “Call me, Shadowsinger. You owe me a song, and I’d love to do that again.” her finger runs across her smirked mouth.

“Good night, Gwyn.”

As he watches Gwyn walk towards her car, all he can think about is how lucky he is that Gwyneth Berdara wants to see him again.

A line I couldn’t fit in because of how the story proceeded, but would love to include: “I want to kiss each and every one of your scars and tell you how beautiful they are.”

[the-new-ribbon]

Firefighter Lucien coming to an AO3 tab soon 🫡

[the-new-ribbon]

𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓼: 𝓔𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓷 & 𝓛𝓾𝓬𝓲𝓮𝓷 🌺

My lovely friend @melphss and I were able to commission with insanely lovely art by @jjflorentina

The artist did such an incredible job showing Elain and Lucien in a sweet embrace.

@melphss thought this quote from Elain in ACOWAR reminded her of a quote from Jane Eyre so I attached both of them. I thought it was a lovely correlation.

Elain: “It felt.. strange, like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib?”

Jane Eyre: “I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I'm afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I'd take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you'd forget me.”

Link to Instagram post

Characters belong to Sarah J Maas

[the-new-ribbon]

Jane Austen's most romantic letter, if it had been written by Lucien Vanserra (Persuasion x Elucien)

Or what would happen if Lucien overheard Elain have a conversation about the bond? And what if he wrote a gut-wrenching love confession in said letter? Inspired by literature's most infamously romantic letter ever written.

Some text is directly taken from Chapter 23 of Persuasion by Jane Austen.

"We will write the letter to Helion we were talking of, Rhysand, now, if you will give me materials."

Materials were at hand, on a separate table; Lucien went to it, and nearly turning his back to the rest of the Inner Circle, was engrossed by writing.

Elain eyed him carefully, studying the leather strap that held back his long, molten red hair. Clearing her throat, she found Nesta across the room by the open window of the parlor as they were both on the outskirts of the Inner Circle’s political discussions. It was a respectable distance from where Lucien was writing at the desk, although still somewhat nearby. 

“I have a question for you,” Nesta turned to her younger sister, face like stone. “One that I have been thinking about for some time. What do you think our parents would have thought about the mating bond?” 

With wide, brown eyes Elain sucked in her breath. It was an unexpected question, but also a familiar one. For her thoughts had circled the very same doubts and insecurities that plagued her sister. “Well,” Elain wrung her hands nervously. “Mother would have adored Feyre’s, being mated to a High Lord after all. But if she didn’t like the outcome, she would have demanded a way to break it or alter it for her own advantage.” 

Nesta’s wicked grin revealed an agreement, knowing full well their mother would have been furious at her marriage and bond with an Illyrian general, and her matching status as a Valkyrie now. 

“As for father, well, I suppose, based on what he discussed with me in the past—there is a small chance he would have been disappointed.” Her voice dropped in both volume and confidence, barely escaping as a whisper passed her lips. As if she was instinctually afraid someone would hear, perhaps someone sitting across the room. 

Elain felt compelled to explain further. “He always told me the most important thing to find in a husband was true love. That I should not settle for anyone less than a kind, loyal heart who loves every part of me, because that kind of love will never leave you.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Nesta regarded her with furrowed eyebrows. “And you do not believe that a mating bond can also encompass those very same feelings? That same love?” 

She considered her question carefully, chewing on her bottom lip. “Perhaps it can, but how can you know it is true? That it is not just the manifestation of desire in its place?” It was always that doubt, that fear, that crept into the darkest crevices of her heart. For as long as those shadows existed, she could not bring herself closer to her own mate, afraid she would be unable to determine the answer. In return, she was afraid of what she could possibly want or feel for him.

“I wish I could make you comprehend, Elain.” Nesta frowned, “I wish I could properly convey the feeling of how your soul glows when your mate loves you—”

Before Nesta could continue, Elain found herself apologizing with a hand on her elbow. “Gods forbid that I should undervalue the love and bond you share with Cassian, or Feyre’s either for that matter. It is a reminder that bonds can be true and constant attachments.”

She could not immediately have uttered another sentence; her heart was too full, her breath too much oppressed.

“You’re a good sister,” Nesta replied affectionately and Elain wonder if her sister could see past her tenderness, if anyone could witness the mask of kindness that Elain could so easily put on for the sake of others to hide her own feelings. The conversation faded as Feyre now joined them with Nyx on her hip, a welcome distraction for Elain as the three of them turned to him. 

“Ready to go?” Cassian’s voice eventually broke through the hum of the room, an echo across the parlor. “We need to meet with Vassa and Jurian.” Lucien was folding up a letter in great haste, and either could not or would not answer fully.

“Yes,” he said. “I will winnow us. I will be ready in half a minute.” 

Cassian left to wait for him at the front door, and Lucien, having sealed his letter with great rapidity, was indeed ready, with a hurried and agitated air, as if he was greatly impatient to leave. Elain could not understand it. Cassian had given her a smile and shoulder a warm squeeze as he left the room, but from Lucien himself, not a single word. He had passed out of the room without a look.  

Elain moved closer to the table where he had been writing, when suddenly she heard footsteps returning; the door opened and it was Lucien. He gave her a polite nod and gestured to where he had forgotten his gloves, instantly crossing the room to the desk. He drew out a letter from under the scattered papers, placed it before Elain with eyes glowing in longing fixed on her, and hastily collected his gloves, once again out of the room before anyone could even be aware he had been in it at all. 

The interaction was almost beyond expression. The letter, with strokes of pen that were hardly legibly, as if rushed, read “Elain Archeron,” was evidently the one which he had been folding so hastily. While he had supposedly been writing to Helion, he had also been addressing her. On the contents of that letter depended all which this world could do for her. Anything was possible. Sinking into the chair which he had occupied, succeeding to the very spot where he had leaned and written, her eyes devoured the following words:

“I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when this bond first snapped, two and a half years ago. Dare not say that a mate’s love cannot be true, that his love is influenced by our tether. I have loved another, but none like you. Unjust I may have been, distant and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Velaris. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these past few days after Solstice, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine, I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish your true thoughts through the bond when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent female! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among males. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating in your mate,  L.V. I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow the court, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter the Night Court this evening or never again.” 

Such a letter was not to be soon recovered from.