daevastanner
daevastanner
Izzy | Author of A Court of Light & Melody and Trial of the Valkyrie | my TikTok/IG: @readtheseficsBi | She/Her
1425 posts
Don't wanna be here? Send us removal request.
Last Seen Blogs
trustworthy-liar
Miss Liar
wetherillparkcleaners
Wetherill Park Commercial Cleaning Services
rigelthebigbluestar
Rigel
a-tomr-blog
사람좋아하는 사람
xayaatloves
SCHEHERAZADÉ LOVES
Text
If you guys like this you should read my fanfic Halfbreeds on ao3 all about Rhys and Gwyn becoming friends. It’s completed too
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?
#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#gwynriel supremacy#gwyn and azriel#acotar fanfiction#gwynriel fic#gwynsand#Gwyn and Rhysand#friendship fic
525 notes
·
View notes
Text
Az telling gwyn a secret about his shadows in the library 🩵
IG: TP.canvas
271 notes
·
View notes
Text
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?
525 notes
·
View notes
Text
@dragonofzenith you won’t be sorry — this is sunshine trainee x grumpy trainer dynamic I need from Gwynriel.
Just so y’all know, Carissa Broadbent’s “Daughter of No Worlds” is gonna sate your craving for the Gwynriel book that has no release date in sight. Go on.
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
What did you gain, Nesta? “The life of my sister and her child”
And what did it cost you? “Literally nothing the narrative has made it clear I am just as powerful if not moreso somehow? Idk just rolling with it!”
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
Happy AU Day, @gwynrielweeksofficial and fellow Gwynriel shippers!
I’d like to present my newest little AU project:
A Sign of Affection
Read Chapter 1 on AO3
If you’ve read the manga or watched the anime and recognize the similarities with the fic art, well, that’s very intentional. This Gwynriel AU was inspired by A Sign of Affection, which has had me kicking my feet and squealing for WEEKS. It’s SO CUTE, and EVERYONE SHOULD READ/WATCH it!!!
Summary:
When a handsome stranger steps in to help with a curious tourist, Gwyn assumes that she will never see him again. But she soon finds out that he’s much closer to her small, safe circle than she ever could have imagined. Gwyn is shy, has a bit of baggage, and was born unable to hear. And she can’t quite imagine that someone like Azriel would take the time to dismantle the walls around her heart and invest himself in the effort it might take to communicate with her.
Azriel has been smitten since he saw her big, beautiful eyes and bright smile, and is even more thrilled when she ends up at Cassian’s self-defense class. He wants to know everything about her, and he wants to be able to meet her text for text, and even sign for sign. Using his ruined hands to communicate should have terrified him, but for Gwyn? It’s not even a question.
I’m honestly not sure how updates will go, bc the fic isn’t finished yet. But I was too excited/impatient to post. I’m thinking weekly or twice a week, depending on how much I get written this weekend ;)
#gwynriel#fanfiction#gwyneth berdara#acotar#gwynriel supremacy#gwyn x azriel#azriel shadowsinger#sarah j maas#azriel x gwyn#gwynriel weeks 2024
71 notes
·
View notes
Note
Why is your fic memory lane so hard to find?
I don’t know! I’ve actually never heard this before.
It’s on the first page of my works page on ao3 but I’ll drop the link here too:
#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#gwynriel supremacy#gwyn and azriel#acotar fanfiction#gwynriel fic#gwynriel fanfiction#ao3
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
The finale of "Halfbreeds" is up!
a z r i e l
Azriel’s memory of his rescue was hazy. He recalled being in and out of consciousness as Koschei tortured him. The Death God had a clear goal: get the information he desired from Azriel, kill him, resurrect him, and make him use his shadowsinger magic against Prythian’s armies.
One moment Azriel had been chained to a wall, his back dripping blood, his wings broken in several places. The next Koschei had been called away to see to a breach in his stronghold’s defenses. Something about an entire wall turning into ‘mist.’
There had been a cacophony of clashing swords, grunts and agonized cries, then the familiar scent of water-lilies and ginger.
Azriel blinked his blurry surroundings into focus to find his mate was unshackling him.
She’d dragged him through a sea of bodies, explaining that Rhysand had caused a diversion while she infiltrated Koschei’s keep.
They had come for him. His brother and his mate had come for him.
Of all things, he hadn’t expected a rescue on his behalf. He’d been trained to resist and withstand torture with no hope of aid. Then again, that was before he had a mate. One who apparently was hell-bent on saving him.
Once they’d escaped through a large fissure in one of the dungeon walls Azriel had breathed in the fresh night air and fallen to his knees, his vision darkening until he was weightless. His last breath had been an apology to Gwyn for not being able to stay conscious.
Now he laid in a narrow bed in the House of Wind’s recovery wing. There were other fallen soldiers in the beds around him, each of them given privacy by a white divider warded to provide silence so no one’s rest was disturbed by the pained moans of the injured.
Gwyn had slept slumped in a wooden chair to the left of his bed. Now she sat perched on the edge of his cot, one of her hands threaded with his.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
He gave her a wan smile from where he sat propped against the pillows, then sent a warm wave of comfort shimmering down the bond that tethered their souls. It was the ghost of a sensation being that they hadn’t had the time to accept the bond, but he knew she’d feel it all the same.
Gwyn exhaled, the tension in her shoulders bleeding away. She rubbed a freckled hand to the chest of her white tunic, laughing weakly. “That’s much better.”
He frowned in confusion, then it dawned on him. “Oh, tell me you didn’t feel my–”
“I felt your fear,” Gwyn finished, her gaze distant. “I felt your agony. Your sorrow. Your hopelessness.”
Azriel dragged his free hand down his face. “Gwyn, I apologize. This… bond– It’s new to me. I didn’t realize I was projecting it all to you.”
She shook her head. “Don’t apologize. I… My actions were my own.”
His brows furrowed. “What actions?”
Her cheeks reddened, that distant gaze suddenly shining with unshed tears. Her lips opened and closed, as though unable to find the words.
Azriel felt his stomach lurch.
“Gwyn, what did you do?” he asked, squeezing the hand he held.
Read the rest on Ao3
#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#gwynriel supremacy#gwyn and azriel#acotar fanfiction#gwynriel fic#gwynriel fanfiction#ao3
50 notes
·
View notes
Text
lol update not only did they take the time to comment this:
But now we’re attacking fanfic commenters?
And no, I won’t blur out their username. It’s a sock puppet account so it’s not like knowing her name can lead to actually harm.
If you don’t like today’s chapter of HALFBREEDS or disagree with how I handle the plotline I really don’t need to know
All we have as a fanfic writers, the only method of payment we receive, is engagement. When that engagement becomes littered with disagreements about how non canon our fanfiction is or how you didn’t like the way things went down, you take away our incentive to write.
I feel like that was the goal with today’s commenter, but I don’t really know their motives so I won’t speculate further.
SPOILERS FOR HALFBREEDS:
I list at the top of the chapter that this beat was born from a TikTok that was highly requested I turn into a story. One of the lines from the TikTok is “both your wife and your son will drown” so I indeed have Gwyn threaten Rhysand’s wife and child. She’s not in her right mind (a parallel to Azriel’s previous chapter), if Rhys kills her she’ll drop a tidal wave on his home, he sees her as a surrogate sister by this point in the story so killing her would literally break his heart, and lastly: Feyre and Nyx aren’t event in danger actually.
It doesn’t matter if you don’t like it. It doesn’t matter if you don’t think my FANFIC is canon compliant. It doesn’t matter if you have an urge to tell me you disagree with me.
DO NOT COMMENT NEGATIVELY ON FANFIC
#gwynriel supremacy#gwyn and azriel#acotar fanfiction#gwynriel fic#fandom fuckery#acotar fandom bullshit
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
Halfbreeds - Ch 3 is up!
g w y n
Six months later…
The House of Wind
Gwyneth Berdara stood with her palms braced on either side of the map laid out on the mahogany table. Behind her the private library’s hearth roared with a fire, less for the balmy summer night and more for the Valkyrie’s comfort.
She muttered to herself, eyes roving over the marks she’d made, the strategy she’d detailed, the only chance at getting her mate back from Koschei’s clutches. It was risky, but with enough Valkyrie Units dispatched Gwyn could pull it off. All she needed was for Rhys to sign off on the emergency status that would allow her to lead such a large number.
Nodding, Gwyn stood up straight, admiring the plan once more. “I promised I’d never let anyone lock you away again,” she whispered to Azriel, hoping he could hear her across the bond they’d yet to accept. “I will keep my word, Shadowsinger.”
The doors squeaked across the room and the Valkyrie’s head whipped up to see Nesta striding in, her expression cautious as she no doubt tried to gauge Gwyn’s distress over Azriel’s abduction.
Gwyn gave the eldest Archeron a hesitant smile. “I think I have a plan. It just requires a little luck, and Rhysand’s approval of…”
“Gwyn, wait,” Nesta interjected.
But there was no time to lose, so Gwyn continued, “...emergency status so I can lead a…”
“Gwyn, please stop.”
“...unit of Valkyrie to help me…”
“Listen!” Nesta snapped.
Gwyn jerked back, eyeing her friend like a potentially threatening predator. She narrowed her eyes, prompting her to explain why she was so fiercely protesting Azriel’s rescue.
Nesta breathed slowly through her nose. “Gwyn, Rhysand is calling the Night Court’s forces to retreat. He won’t be dispatching any more units until the Healers have seen to the wounded and the High Lords are able to meet and discuss how to move forward.”
Blinking, Gwyn walked around the table towards her friend. “But… but he’ll make an exception for Azriel, won’t he? That’s his brother.”
Nesta’s throat bobbed. “No exceptions, Gwyn.”
“Well, then he must not be aware that Azriel has been captured,” Gwyn countered.
Because if Rhys knew Azriel had been captured he would do everything he could to see that he was brought home. He had worked so hard to ensure Azriel lived for the past five centuries, he wouldn’t stop now. And certainly not after he had succeeded in his covert maneuvers to guarantee Gwyn and Azriel met, that the bond snapped for his brother as it had for her. That the shadowsinger received the happiness he had so long deserved.
“He’s aware Azriel was taken, Gwyn,” Nesta said gently. “And he is still ordering the retreat.”
Gwyn felt her brows pull together, her jaw falling open as she struggled to process what Nesta was saying. “He… He wants to wait to rescue him until after the High Lords have convened?”
Nesta gave a single nod, then placed a comforting hand on Gwyn’s shoulder. “If all the High Lords decide rescuing Azriel is a priority for victory, then yes.”
If Azriel’s life was ‘a priority.’
A priority?
If?
Gwyn’s blood boiled, her brows slamming down. “He can’t be serious. If he knows it’s me leading the plan, he’ll make an exception. I’ll speak with him–”
But as Gwyn tried to step around Nesta, the eldest Archeron blocked her path. Her steely eyes were hard, but Gwyn could see a frown threaten to tug at her full mouth.
“Nesta…”
“Gwyn, I’m under orders to ensure you remain here in the House of Wind until we’re called into battle,” Nesta replied. “Rhysand wants you clear-headed when we move out eventually.” Then softer, “You’re to be sequestered here on the High Lord and Lady’s orders.”
Gwyn’s whole body began to tremble with energy, her eyes blazed.
First it had been Rhysand, now it was both Rhysand and Feyre.
And judging by the immovable set of her shoulders, Nesta agreed with her sister and brother-in-law. She would follow their orders.
“Nesta, get out of my way,” Gwyn said, her voice low.
Nesta swallowed, but held her friend’s skewering gaze. “I can’t, Gwyn. I understand you want to save Azriel, but I won’t let you sacrifice Valkyrie troops in the high of your mate-induced anxiety so you can hate yourself for it later.”
Mate-induced anxiety? What the hell was that? Whatever anxiety Gwyn felt was the result of the other half of her soul being held by Koschei, not the stupid mating-bond they hadn’t even accepted yet. This blazing, burning fury that lit her up from the inside out was all hers.
Wasn’t it?
“I know it feels normal. It’s going to feel natural,” Nesta said calmly. “The urge to turn the world to ash in order to save him, right? The anger that justifies you going to such extremes. It feels like any other decision. Like you’re choosing what to read for the night.” Lady Death shook her head. “It’s not. Once the haze clears, you may regret what you did in the heat of the moment, Gwyn.”
Gwyn shoved the words away, glowering at her friend now, “Maybe I will regret it.” She took a step forward so they were nearly chest to chest, “But I know I will regret letting Koschei kill Azriel because I was too scared to stand up to you and Rhysand.”
Nesta opened her mouth, her features shadowed with alarm, but Gwyn didn’t even let her get a word out before she grabbed her by the side of her neck, applying tension to the arteries she could feel beneath the pads of her fingers. She squeezed before Nesta could pry her hand off, and Nesta’s blood pressure rose till her eyes fluttered shut. Her body began to slump, but Gwyn caught her, carefully tilting her to lie on the rug by the table.
“I’m sorry, Nesta,” Gwyn said, grabbing a throw pillow from an armchair and lifting her sister’s head to rest upon it. “But you wouldn’t let anything keep you from Cassian either.”
Read the rest on Ao3
#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#gwynriel supremacy#gwyn and azriel#acotar fanfiction#gwynriel fic#gwynriel fanfiction#ao3#gwynriel weeks 2024
40 notes
·
View notes
Text
Halfbreeds - Chapter 2
r h y s a n d
two and a half years later
The doors to Rhysand’s study in the river house flew open and Gwyneth Berdara came staggering in.
He sat up in his high back chair, immediately taking note of her frantic eyes and ragged breaths.
“Gwyn?” Rhys said, rising from his seat.
She strode across the carpet, rounding his desk to come stand before him.
Gripping the High Lord by his shoulders, Gwyn breathed, “He knows.”
Rhysand blinked once before the sentence registered, before he understood her mortified expression. Azriel knew. He knew Gwyn was his mate.
“How?” he asked, bending his head to better meet Gwyn’s eyes.
“We were on our date at Rita’s,” she began, hands falling slack at her sides, “and he left to get us m-more drinks. Then this man came over and he asked if I was lonely.”
Rhys felt his lips pull down in a frown.
“I told him I was waiting on my date, b-but then he reached for my hand on the table and-and said that he would have me back before my date noticed I was gone.” Her breath hitched again. “He tried to pull me out of my chair, but Azriel came over in a flash and just-just started b-beating him. He wouldn’t stop and-and Rita had to get security to pull him off the male.”
Swearing under his breath, Rhys made a mental note to check with Rita and try and identify whatever male had attempted to ruin his brother and Gwyn’s first date. Rhys had never seen the shadowsinger more nervous than when he’d planned to ask the Valkyrie out. It had taken an impressive amount of self-control for the High Lord not to confess to the former-priestess that she would soon be on the receiving end of Azriel’s full romantic attention.
“They took him out and I followed but… but when I met Azriel on the street he just started staring at me,” Gwyn continued. Her throat slid. “And then… then he just said it. He said I was his mate.”
Mother… The bond had finally snapped for his brother. It had been two and a half years since Sangravah, six months since Azriel had begun to know Gwyn more intimately, going so far as to dance with her at Nesta and Cassian’s ceremony just three months ago. And now he finally knew that they were mates.
“What’d you say?” Rhys asked gently.
“I couldn’t lie.” Tears spilled from Gwyn’s eyes. “I said… that I knew.”
“And?”
Gwyn’s lower lip wobbled. “He-he asked if I was waiting until I thought he was worthy to know the truth. If I didn’t see him as a suitable mate. I–I ran. Evaded him in the crowd and–and came here. He’s… Rhysand, he was wild.” A hopeless sniffle. “He said he didn’t care about bonds anymore. I thought he–”
“He’s not thinking straight,” Rhys said, trying to keep his voice even for her sake. “He meant what he said to you about the bond not making a difference, alright? I know because he’s said as much to me and Feyre as well.”
“Then why were the first words out of his mouth–”
“Because he’s overwhelmed. You may not remember because of everything else that happened that night, but the bond snapping is overwhelming. Especially for males.” He lowered his voice, “Especially for a male who has spent five centuries convinced he would never have one because he was unworthy.”
Gwyn’s gaze darted about the room uncertainly before landing on Rhys once more. “I’m not ready, Rhys. I wanted to court him before we discussed the bond.”
He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, thumb stroking a soothing circle on her bicep as he grimaced. “In my experience the bond has little regard for your plans. You’re going to have to adapt.”
Her stare was pleading. “I need time, Rhys. And I need him to calm down before I can even begin to consider–”
Rhys pulled her to his chest, enfolding her in an embrace. She accepted immediately, face buried in the dark material of his jacket, fingers bunching in the fabric beneath his shoulder-blades.
The High Lord rested his chin atop her head. “Leave it to me.”
“What?” she asked, voice muffled by his chest.
Feyre, Rhys shut his eyes and reached out to his mate’s mind. If you look out the parlor window is there a very determined looking shadowsinger stalking across the grounds?
A pause.
It would appear so, Feyre whispered into his mind, shall I stall him?
Read the rest on Ao3
#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#gwyn and azriel#gwynriel supremacy#acotar fanfiction#gwynriel fic#gwynriel fanfiction#ao3#gwynriel weeks 2024
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Halfbreeds
My contribution for Gwynriel weeks2024 is this Gwynsand/dark!Gwyn fanfic. Please enjoy this extra moody first chapter now available on Ao3. Chapter 2 to come tomorrow!
r h y s a n d
Rhysand waited patiently in his office in the House of Wind for the next witness to arrive.
He’d been hearing testimonies from the priestesses of Sangravah all day.
Well, a few of them. Only the ones who had volunteered to relive the nightmares that had transpired, all in exchange for the chance they may get a morsel of justice.
The heavy oak door opened, and Clotho came striding into the warmly lit office, another unfamiliar acolyte behind her. With a gnarled hand, she gestured to the high-backed sitting chair in front of Rhysand’s mahogany desk.
The acolyte gave Clotho a hollow smile, nodding in confirmation that she could leave her alone with the High Lord.
With a bow of her head, Clotho retreated, the door clicking shut behind her.
Rhys took a moment to perceive the female before him. She had pin straight coppery hair, tucked behind her pointed ears. Her face was smattered with caramel colored freckles that contrasted starkly against her sallow complexion.
No doubt Sangravah had taken its toll on her.
She gave Rhys that same empty smile she’d given Clotho. The expression did not meet her large, teal eyes, the skin beneath them bearing bruise-like smudges. He recognized the expression. He’d worn it plenty of times after he’d returned from Under the Mountain. It was the smile he donned when he could feel the phantom scratch of Amarantha’s nails, the echo of her gluttonous moans.
Rhys returned the priestess’s polite smile, shoving his ghosts to the back of his mind. He leaned his elbows on his desk, trying to appear at ease. “Let’s get introductions out of the way. My name is Rhysand, I am High Lord of the Night Court.”
“Acolyte Gwyneth Berdara, formerly of the Temple of Sangravah,” she replied primly although her voice was slightly hoarse.
Rhys arched a brow attempting to keep things conversational. “Gwyneth Berdara? You’re one of the priestesses who have accepted postage at The House of Wind.”
He’d given all the acolytes from Sangravah two options upon their relocating. A post: serving in the House of Wind with a private room in the library dormitories, including access to regular counseling sessions; or passage: an escort to their family or friends after assessment by healers.
The choice was theirs.
Most of this particular lot accepted passage, with only ten requesting a post.
One of those ten, being Gwyneth Berdara.
“I look forward to beginning my service,” Gwyneth said with a slight bow of her head. There was a faint glimmer in her eyes, one that hadn’t been there before. “If there has been one bit of hope in the past week, it’s that I may do some good in the High Lord’s name.”
The way she spoke wasn’t as though she wished to appease him, but not insincere. It was almost admiring, yet bashful. Like speaking to your greatest hero, or happening upon your most respected artist. He would gladly receive her praise if it alleviated the weight of the ghosts bearing down on her.
As though sensing his assessment, Gwyn’s cheeks pinkened. “I’m just very familiar with your policies in Velaris and the work you’ve done for the females of Illyria. Not to mention the orphans of the Capital cities.”
Rhys smiled, heat blooming in his own cheeks at the enthusiasm in her reply. “I wasn’t aware anyone was monitoring my policies.”
“I have been,” Gwyn said. A beat passed, then, “I specialized in the care of the orphans at Sangravah. And my twin and I are— were nymphs.”
He heard the unspoken words in the latter-half of the sentence.
‘I’m a halfbreed too.’
He shrugged his shoulders. “Genetic status is irrelevant in the Velaris—“
“Thanks to you,” Gwyneth finished, then ducked her head, seemingly embarrassed. “My lord.”
Right, well, perhaps she’d be comfortable enough to discuss her thoughts on his policies with him in a few years. Once she’d acclimated. If she had positive opinions, she’d certainly have negative ones, and it had been a long time since someone who didn’t know Rhys intimately had critiqued him.
“Well, I appreciate you volunteering for both the library and this interview, Priestess,” Rhysand said. “May I explain how you will be giving your testimony?”
Gwyneth bobbed her head, that broken smile resurfacing on her lips.
Rhysand explained how he intended to utilize his daemati magic to view the events of her memories from the attack on Sangravah. He’d then use the information he found to look for any familiar faces or weak points in their enemy’s defenses.
“If the use of my gift gives you pause, I’ll happily take a verbal account,” Rhys finished.
Gwyneth’s mouth was pressed in a flat line, all color drained from her face. “Which is more helpful?”
Rhys felt his stomach sink. What she had lived through had to be too traumatic to recount verbally, especially with so little time to process whatever had occurred.
At least using his daemati magic, Rhysand would be sifting through her mind alone, with her no wiser as to the contents he was making note of.
“Strictly speaking, mental accounts are more reliable and while most invasive, require you to remember less details. Those who choose verbal typically take issue with the intimate nature of my gifts. It’s a matter of comfortability.”
Gwyneth Berdara nodded, chewing her lower lip, then finally said, “I’d rather you get as much detail as possible to apprehend the responsible parties. I trust you to use your abilities honorably.”
Rhys dipped his head. “While your trust is not misplaced, Priestess, I appreciate it all the same. If you could just–”
“On one condition, please, my lord.”
His brows rose at the distressed creases lining her forehead, indicating it had taken great courage for her to speak up. He nodded for her to continue.
“I would ask,” Gwyneth began, “that whatever you see does not alter the way you have regarded me since I entered this office. I’ve… I’ve had enough pity.”
Rhys felt a frown tug at the corners of his lips. He knew all about pity. To his knowledge, many priestesses and children had seen immeasurable horrors during the attacks. Morrigan and Azriel had plenty of accounts they’d relayed with somber eyes while nursing their respective glasses of alcohol.
“On my word as High Lord of the Night Court, you will have no pity from me, Gwyneth Berdara.”
On my word as someone who has had his fill of pity as well…
Gwyneth’s answering smile was feeble and forced, but true. “Then we may proceed. Tell me what is needed of me.”
Rhys instructed the priestess to relax as best she could and close her eyes. She may feel a slight probing within her skull, and if at any point she did not wish to continue, she need only say so. Verbally or mentally, he would pick up on her request and withdraw immediately.
She had no questions, only took a steeling breath and leaned back in her seat, folding her hands neatly in her lap. Her eyes slid shut, lips pressed in a tight line once more. “I’m ready,” she said softly.
Rhysand concentrated on her, carefully setting aside his sympathies. Only when her shoulders relaxed did he close his own eyes, and dive in.
Read the rest on Ao3
#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#gwynriel supremacy#gwyn and azriel#acotar fanfiction#gwynriel fic#gwynriel fanfiction#ao3#gwynsand friendship#gwynriel weeks 2024#rhysand and gwyn#acosf
85 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hiiii,
You mentioned a Gwyn rage/ Gwynsand friendship fic a few months ago, and it's a premise that has me interested.
I was wondering of this was just an idea that you had, or whether it might be an actual fic one day.
You asked this at such a good time! It’s a little side project for me right now as I work on my WIP. Here’s a little teaser:
R H Y S A N D
“My lord! My lady!”
Rhysand shot up in his bed, Feyre sitting up at his side just in time to see their bedroom door swing open. In the frame, holding a candle, was a very alarmed Nuala. The candlelight quivered on the wall in her shaking hand.
“Is it Nyx?” Feyre asked groggily.
“No, my lady,” Nuala said, her dark eyes flitting between the two of them. “High Lord, Valkyrie Captain Berdara wishes to parlay with you on the grounds. She… she awaits you in the–the Sidra.”
Feyre’s hand clamped on Rhysand’s thigh, and he heard the silent plea in the gesture.
We knew this was a possibility, Feyre. I will face her. It was my call.
Rhys, she could be unstable right now. Are you in any state to fight a supernaturally angry Valkyrie Captain who was trained by Azriel?
Gwyn will not hurt me, Rhys thought, giving Feyre a pointed look. She needs me to be her friend right now instead of her High Lord, and I owe her that much.
#gwynriel#gwyneth berdara#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#gwynriel supremacy#gwyn and azriel#acotar fanfiction#gwynriel fic#gwynriel fanfiction
65 notes
·
View notes
Text
Az in acosf: what if the cauldron was wrong
Az six months later in hofas: yeah so I don’t have a mate
323 notes
·
View notes
Text
Same. Bye.
Dipping out of the Tumblr fandom until next week at the earliest because it's a fucking minefield of HOFAS spoilers on here. Jesus H. Christ. THE BOOK ISN'T EVEN FUCKING OUT YET.
As someone who was spoiled last time, it's fucking rude to try to ruin the experience of discovery via reading the actual book. If you're excited? Cool. I don't want to know you read it, are reading it, and if you did, kindly stop trying to send people your theories/reactions/etc to people you don't know if they have read it yet. It's rude and entitled.
In conclusion, don't be a HOFAS Spoiler Cunt and I'll see you all in a week or two.
If you are wondering about the #Nestaq fic, the next chapter will be up this week. Keep track of my Insta or Ao3.
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
We're fanfic writers, of course we're going to make you cry.
But only after making ourselves cry first.
153 notes
·
View notes