Gwyneth Berdara as she is described in DREAM CRUSHER. Please tell the artist, Mahpiya luta, how amazing this is. When I first commissioned her, this is the one I pictured first and she did not disappoint! Fic snippet and summary are below the cut, but you can also read DREAM CRUSHER here: LINK.・゚:*
please do not repost.
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Pairing: Gwynriel
Status: 5/20 ongoing
Rated: E (explicit)
Summary: Gwyneth Berdara is easily swayed by beautiful things, and Azriel is seemingly the most beautiful of all. What a shame he also happens to have the most abhorrent personality on the planet. [Gwynriel OnlyFans AU]
CHAPTER 3: IF YOU’RE DEEP IN A DAYDREAM
“What are you smiling about?” Azriel said, the corner of his lip quirking up. It was like his gaze couldn’t settle on any one part of her face. This restless circuit from mouth to eyes to nose and cheeks.
“Nothing,” Gwyn said, shrugging.
But she was grinning, and she didn’t even notice that she’d brushed her hand over his shoulder and towards the nape of his neck. That her thumb was playing with the short ends of his hair there. She looked out to the side, eyes glancing out over the stars instead of looking at him, and thought about all the pairs of heels she had at home. Wondered if she would have to start wearing them more often.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Azriel said, dipping his head so that he could whisper it near her ear. She felt his lips brush against her earring, tugging ever so slightly, and sucked in a sharp breath, before turning to look at him again.
“No, I haven’t,” she said.
He smiled again, the disarming smile that she’d seen in the parking garage. But this time, beneath the sky and with his hands over her waist, she could see more fully the way it transformed him. How it eclipsed his usual mask of detachment or indifference. When he smiled like that, it was like not even the stars could shine as brightly.
“You haven’t?” he said, his voice slightly rough.
“Mm, no,” Gwyn said, shaking her head. But she was caught, pinned beneath that darting gaze—nose, lips, eyes—and the motions were far too slow, and languid, to be anything other than an errant loll of her head.
His hand spread out over her waist, five fingers splayed, and then slid around her side to the small of her back, leaving a cool, star-flecked trail in its wake.
“Because avoiding you,” Gwyn said around a small gasp, “would imply that I’ve been thinking of you at all.”
He hummed, and she hadn’t realized how close they’d gotten, until she felt the sound of his voice vibrating through his chest and into hers. And he lowered his head towards hers, his eyes finally having settled on one point of her face, and it was her mouth.
He almost looked prettier like this. Knowing that at any moment, a single smile would make anything else dull in comparison. Having her hand so close that she could cup his face in the curve of her palm, and she could kiss that smile she liked so much.
She wanted to hate him.
“That’s okay,” he said, so softly she almost missed it, as it rolled to her from beneath the music. “I can think about you enough for the both of us.”
But Gwyneth Berdara was easily swayed by beautiful things.
i’m not going to talk about this too much hopefully but in the literacy meltdown we are experiencing as a nation (as a world, and only worsening with the rapid propagation of machines designed to do our thinking for us), it feels insidious and dystopian to watch the most prominent figure in book publishing go on a podcast (one of the largest in the world) and lament about how literature is boring, intellectualism is out, and bend over backwards to convince the audience that she’s actually a cool-girl (i have a labubu! me and margot (robbie, but we’re on a first name basis) are sooo similar, hand me a spicy marg!), while also answering as few direct questions as possible about her literature.
there were opportunities to address controversy within her books and she skirted them all with half answers (why make feyre’s pregnancy so horrific and strip her of all her bodily autonomy? sjm talked about her own pregnancy for 10+ mins, but never closed the loop on this. yes, it was the author’s own experience. WHY write it this way? to not shrink back from reality, to hold up a mirror so other women might feel represented? both good reasons. if the doctor who brutalized sarah is an asshole, why did his fictional counterpart face no repercussions? — why do the women routinely lose their powers and the men do not? sacrifice is important. okay, agreed! why are only the women making these sacrifices time and time again?)
i know it’s foolish to look to someone like sjm of alllll people for a scrap of intellectualism in this bleak landscape, but i will never stop believing that power begets responsibility. if she’s going to be the face of publishing (which is a pedestal she has earned through massive sales and engagement, because her writing resonates with her devoted readers), can she at the very least show some semblance of respect for the institution? i’m so tired of the booktok girlypop anti-intellectual feminism i can’t take it anymore