Summary: When Gwyn breaks up with her boyfriend on the eve of Nesta's destination wedding, Nesta Archeron has only one objective: set Gwyn up with her high school crush.
Note: Based on this tweet from @heathermcwrites: "One of my bridesmaids just broke up with her bf who was supposed to come to my wedding & I was sad for her for about 3 seconds until I remembered that her crush will also be at the wedding (single) and I'm now more committed to this 2nd chance romance than to my own marriage."
"I should also note that this is a destination wedding so there are EVEN MORE opportunities for uh…shenanigans"
The flight home wasn’t nearly as fun as the one she’d taken to Italy. There was a layover, for starters, and the realization that she was coming home alone. Her apartment was worse—Jonathan had clearly been in it, taking what remained and leaving her things scattered about in a chaotic mess. He’d taped a note to her bathroom mirror she didn’t bother reading, choosing instead to rip it up rather than hurt her own feelings.
If Jonathan could even hurt her. In her mind, Gwyn replayed Azriel’s words over and over.
I’m in love with you, and I’ll wait.
It was all she could think about.
Az had gone home with Rhys a day before she and Emerie had left, and though it was unfair, Gwyn was hurt he hadn’t told her goodbye. She knew she didn’t have the right to feel that—he’d agreed to give time to figure herself out, whatever that meant, but for some reason, Gwyn had still hoped he might do more.
Maybe he thought she’d hate him if he did.
Since she’d asked for time, Gwyn decided to give herself at least a week before she went pathetically crawling back to Azriel. If they were going to suffer, it should at least mean something, right? She thought, too, that a little time might cause her to forget him. Did she even love him back? Gwyn didn’t know the answer to that and wasn’t willing to think too much about it.
She threw herself back into her real life—working so much that more than one person teased her that she’d replaced one relationship with another. It was a distraction from the fact that her friends were busy, and Gwyn had spent years revolving everything in her life around Jonathan. What would prevent her from doing the same with Azriel?
That didn’t stop her from missing him. He was all she thought about. In daydreams, she’d hear the soft, rough sound of his laugh or see his serious face stretch into a bright smile. When she slept at night, she could feel his hands on her skin, his breath against her neck and she woke up miserable and aching.
Still. What kind of future was there for her with anyone when she was still so clearly connected to her ex. Gwyn didn’t want to see Jonathon. Didn’t want to ever hear his voice, let alone see his face, but she had to. Gwyn had been avoiding him far longer than she should have, moreso out of disgust than a lack of courage.
But it had become cowardly. Especially as she’d begun to entangle herself more and more with Azriel…Gwyn hadn’t wanted to acknowledge Jonathon, though she didn’t exactly know why. It was the sort of thing she would have wanted both Nesta and Emerie for…but Nesta was still blissfully unaware anything had gone truly wrong at her wedding, and Gwyn was loath to spoil her honeymoon.
She did call Emerie, though.
“You sure about this?” Em asked as Gwyn held her small phone in two hands as though it were a brick. Jonathan, unblocked as of ten seconds earlier, peered up at her from his bespectacled visage, smiling that stupid, lopsided smile of his that she’d once found so charming. Now, though…
“You do it,” Gwyn said, thrusting the phone into Emerie’s soft hands.
Emerie didn’t balk, though she did arch an immaculately groomed brow in Gwyn’s direction.
“How’s this?” Emerie asked, showing Gwyn the message.
Can we talk? Tomorrow?
The bubbles came instantly—Emerie had sent it before Gwyn could tell her not to. That was for the best. No message was ever going to be good enough to pass muster.
“What if he thinks I want to get back together,” Gwyn whispered, heart thundering in her throat.
“Trust me. I think he got the message,” Emerie replied dryly.
The phone pinged softly.
Alone? Or are you bringing back-up?
A slow smile spread across Emerie’s pretty face while Gwyn glowered. “Can’t ever take accountability,” she grumbled, assuring him it would just be her. And Emerie, waiting outside in her car. You know. Just in case.
Not that it made Gwyn feel any better. Even with Emerie in the bed beside her, sleeping soundly, Gwyn couldn’t settle.
“I need a sign,” she whispered, wrapping a silken robe around her frame as she stepped outside onto her small balcony. Just outside the city, Gwyn’s apartment afforded her a view of the glittering river and the skyline just in the distance. She peered upward at the sky, disappointed by the lack of stars. All she saw was the humming electricity of the city behind her and the little blinking red and white dots of airplane towers.
Cool air ruffled her hair—it smelled piney, like trees hugging the side of a mountain. For some reason, it made her think of the scent of Azriel’s skin when he first got out of the shower. Time was supposed to ease the hurt, but the more time she spent away from Azriel, the more she wanted to see him.
Talk to him.
Just look at him.
He’d said he loved her, but Gwyn couldn’t quite believe that, either. What did he even know about her? Nevermind her own embarrassing feelings—leave it to her, she mused, to fall for the guy she assigned as her rebound. Those relationships were supposed to end neatly and without hurt feelings.
Without declarations of love, too…or a punch to the face, she supposed. Things were messy.
She needed to talk to Azriel, too, though what she’d say, Gwyn had no idea. Being the one to break their no-contact seemed wrong to her somehow.
It was just the warm air and the beautiful location. He’s over it now, she told herself, forcing herself to believe it. She turned, intending to go back inside so she could try and get a little sleep before the disaster awaiting her in the morning. Something bright caught her eye just as she reached for the sliding door.
Gwyn turned her head, and then looked again. A star was falling, cutting a brilliant path of light through the otherwise murky night sky. It was like something out of a fantasy book—in all her years of living in the city, she’d never once seen a star like that.
Make a wish!
Biting her bottom lip, Gwyn squeezed her eyes shut, trying to find the perfect wish. Quickly, quickly…let everything work out.
Let him still love me when this is all over.
Gwyn fidgeted with her fingers in her lap as Emerie drove through the congestion. Somehow, even on a Saturday morning, there was still bumper to bumper traffic. Minutes ticked by on the backlit dashboard while Taylor Swift sang softly in the background.
“...and you’d come back to me. You’d come back to me—”
Gwyn turned the volume down violently, unwilling to listen to the yearning in the singer's voice. Fuck her for putting music to Gwyn’s longing.
“Everything is going to be fine,” Emerie said with some amusement. “It’s only Jonathon.”
“He flew to Italy, remember?” Gwyn reminded Emerie, turning fully in her chair to stare down her friend. There were two lights away from the coffee shop, where Emerie would drop Gwyn off and circle the block until she found a place to park.
Outside, it had begun to rain a little, which was just perfect considering how much time and anti-frizz spray Gwyn had poured into her hair. Of course she hadn’t thought to bring an umbrella, either. She’d been too obsessed with looking the right amount of perfect—effortlessly put together without seeming like she tried too hard, either.
God forbid he get the wrong idea. Again.
“You’re going to be fine,” Emerie told her, putting on her flashers. Behind them, a car honked in annoyance, causing Emerie to roll down her window and with a smile, flip them the middle finger before putting her car aggressively in park.
“I live here now,” she told Gwyn, glancing at her rearview mirror, “go inside and break up with your ex-boyfriend again.”
Gwyn nodded, rubbing her hands on her skirt before getting out of the car.
“Hey! Tell your bitch friend to get out of the way!” A man in the car behind them screamed. Gwyn turned.
“She told me to tell you to go fuck yourself!” Gwyn retorted cheerfully, throwing up her middle finger too as a stream of expletives flew in her direction. Ordinarily, that would have bothered her, but Gwyn had bigger problems.
Inside, Jonathan seemed just as nervous as she was. He’d parted his hair to one side and his glasses were pushed as far up his nose as they could go. He looked impeccable in a sweater overtop a button down and neat slacks. Once, the sight of him would have sent her insides flip-flopping, but now…
He didn’t have coffee. Gwyn, ignoring the long line and the smell of slightly burnt beans, sat opposite of him. It took him a moment to look up at her, as though he were afraid to. She studied his face—there was no sign Azriel had punched him. Had Jonathon pressed charges, she wondered?
It was nothing against Azriel, of course, but Gwyn imagined it probably wasn’t his first time staring down an assault charge. Gwyn tried not to imagine him in a prison yard, telling herself she didn’t find any part of it attractive.
But she’d always been a bad liar.
“You look well,” Jonathan finally managed with a sheepish note to his words.
“So do you,” she replied awkwardly. Hands in her lap, Gwyn turned her gaze to the window and the street outside, where Emerie was outside in the drizzling rain, finger pointed, as she yelled at a man twice as tall as her. Not for nothing, either, because the guy looked a little ashamed.
Or scared. Gwyn thought she saw Emerie’s mouth form the words, ‘don’t piss me off or I’ll get my gun!’
It was the sort of threat Emerie would think was funny. Nesta, too, though Nesta and Emerie especially loved bullying random men.
“Look, I—I know I fucked up. I just…I wanted to tell you I was sorry. I know you don’t want to get back together, I just…” he ran a hand through his jelled hair, causing pieces to stick up strangely.
All her anxiety and fear deflated. “I know,” she replied. “I should have just talked to you.”
“No, it’s my fault. I know I treated you bad while we were dating. I thought if I showed you how much you meant to me, I could win you back.”
“That only works in the movies,” Gwyn told him with a wry smile.
“Yeah, I figured that out,” Jonathon said, rubbing his jaw. “Sorry for calling you a bitch.”
She nodded, accepting it with more grace than she felt. The insult still stung.
“It’s really over, then?” he asked when she didn’t say anything.
“Yeah,” Gwyn agreed with a soft sigh. “It’s really over.”
He nodded this time, his eyes a little glassy. “Well. I wish you the best. You deserve it.”
Gwyn reached across the table and took his hand. “So do you. It was never going to be me.”
“Don’t say that,” he murmured, though deep down, he must have known it was true. “I’ll always love you.”
She couldn’t force herself to say it back. Instead, Gwyn stood. “Goodbye, Jonathan.”
If he said it back, she didn’t know. There was no urge to turn back for one last look. By the time the bell chimed over the door as she stepped back into the mist, all Gwyn was thinking about was Emerie.
Emerie, of course, had finally moved her car a few feet up beside a parking meter, and was standing beside it as if she might slide change into the slot.
“Finally got that guy to leave,” she said cheerfully, immediately abandoning the meter. “How did it go with Jonathon?”
“It was fine,” Gwyn said, sliding back into the car. “It’s over, and it’s amicable.”
“Good,” Emerie said, turning the radio back on. “Want to go to McDonalds and get some breakfast?”
Gwyn reclined back in the leather seat, eyes fluttering shut as the song floated into her mind again.
“That sounds so good right now.”
“You drew stars around my scars, and now I’m bleeding. Cause I knew you, stepping on the last train, marked me like a blood stain…”
Azriel:
“Thank me later,” Rhys began, strolling into Azriel’s house like they still shared it. This was Azriels, though, bought and paid for with his own money. Rhys hadn’t had to loan him anything, and Azriel was proud of that.
“What’s the verdict?” he asked, setting his game controller down beside him. Azriel was trying to distract himself, for all the good it was doing him.
“Community service, a fine, and you’re gonna have to pay his medical bills. But,” Rhys added, plopping down beside Azriel, still in his expensive suit, “you don’t have to pay his lawyer fees.”
Azriel groaned. “Sounds like you gave them everything they asked for.”
“They asked for ninety days of shock treatment. I kept this off your personal record. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Yeah, alright. What do I owe you?”
Rhys waved him off, glancing around. The blinds were all shut despite it being the middle of the afternoon. Azriel was in the same pajama pants he’d been wearing for a week and had abandoned a shirt entirely. Not for aesthetic reasons, he’d simply run out of laundry and had no interest in cleaning any of his clothes.
He didn’t have interest in doing much of anything, truly. It took all his energy to keep him from texting Gwyn and asking if she’d found herself yet.
And if, in the course of finding herself, she’d found she missed him, too.
It had been a month of silence and Azriel was slowly coming undone. Everyone knew it, too, which only made it worse. No one said anything to him, but they knew he was grieving her. When Nesta and Cassian had come by to see him, Nesta had been so careful to never once mention Gwyn’s name, though Azriel knew Emerie and Nesta were likely still spending time with her.
It wasn’t like him to be so hung up on a woman, but fuck. Gwyn wasn’t just any woman. He wanted to give her time, to prove he wasn’t like Jonathon even though he understood exactly how Jonathon had felt. Azriel was slowly going insane, tempted to stalk her outside of her work, her home, anywhere just for a glimpse of her hair, her eyes, her mouth.
“Nothing. Mom would kill me if I made you pay me back,” Rhys said, his mouth slowly dipping into a deep frown. “You need to get out, though.”
“I’m fine,” Azriel said flatly.
“You look like shit,” Rhys retorted. “And this place smells like cat piss.”
“I don’t have a cat.”
“Which makes the smell all the more concerning,” Rhys replied, slick as ever. “Go take a fucking shower, at least.”
Rhys stood, gaze sweeping over the apartment one last time. “And get Elain over here to clean if you can’t bring yourself to do it.”
Azriel had no intention of doing either. He didn’t want to see that pitying look on Elain’s face, and he sure as shit wasn’t going to mop just because Rhys, bossy fuck face, told him to. Rhys left with a flourish, snapping the door behind him after smacking the stack of paperwork Azriel would need to read in order to satisfy the judgement.
Dumb fucker, he thought about Jonathon, though truthfully he could have been talking about himself, too. Of course Jonathon was going to cause problems and of course Azriel’s lack of impulse control would get him in trouble.
Was that what chased her away? Had he scared her? Azriel had replayed that night in his mind a million times, looking for anything that would explain the silence between them. It always came back to his punch and the look on her face. Was it fear, or something else? Something closer to revulsion? Was that why Nesta didn’t mention Gwyn—Gwyn had asked her not to?
“Kill me,” he groaned, picking up the controller for his game and clicking it back on. Shooting zombies kept his mind off Gwyn. It worked up to a point. Eventually, Azriel got bored and his mind began to wander. No matter what he started thinking about, all roads lead back to Gwyn’s pretty, freckled face.
Groaning for a second time, Azriel reached for his phone, flicking on the screen out of habit. There were texts, but none from Gwyn. Pausing the game, Azriel tapped out several messages in quick succession before deleting them. She’d asked for space and fucking hell, but Azriel would die before he broke contact with her.
But the days stretched on with miserable monotony. Work was the best part of his day. Owning his own garage kept Azriel impossibly busy between doing the physical labor and the boring office shit he cared a lot less about. He’d begun making elaborate meals—all shared on Elain’s blog—just to give him something to do in the evening.
To keep himself asleep, Azriel spent an impossible amount of time in his basement gym, pushing himself past the point of failure until he was all but dragging himself back up the stairs. It would have been worth it if he was seeing gains, but each morning Azriel inspected himself in the mirror and couldn’t tell a difference one way or the other. He’d always been a muscular man, but it seemed there was a limit.
It was another stupid day no different from the ones that came before. Azriel couldn’t sleep despite how his legs ached, which caused him to meander out onto his deck. Would his neighbors be angry if he started grilling at two in the morning? Azriel couldn’t imagine anyone caring, but his closest neighbors on the right were old and joyless, and had called the cops more times than he cared to count for normal living.
Azriel sighed, leaning over the wood railing of his deck.
“She’s never going to text me back,” he admitted to himself, stomach churning miserably. He had to take several slow breaths to keep the nausea rising in his throat to keep from spilling into the grass.
His phone was on the nightstand beside him, which was for the best. He just wanted a sign of some sort—proof that waiting was worth it, that he just needed to hang on because she felt the same.
Real life wasn’t a movie. There was no grand moment, no raining confession, no swelling violins. There was just a light breeze and a couple stars twinkling in the sky above him if he ignored the shooting star streaking across the sky.
He swore he heard Gwyn’s voice catch before whispering against his neck, make a wish.
Normally he’d think it was stupid and silly. Mere superstition and nothing else. But right then, Azriel was desperate. He’d try anything that might bring Gwyn back to him. It was the easiest wish he’d ever made.
Come back to me.
He didn’t normally work Saturdays simply on principle. What was the point of owning your own business—a successful one at that—if he had to work like he was just starting out? Besides, working the Saturday morning shift meant he didn’t have to be in his house all day. They closed up at one, though Azriel didn’t leave until closer to three. It was a misty day with thick, gray clouds blotting out the sun overhead.
He’d waited all day for something to happen. Azriel had turned his phone volume up as loud as he could, though it hadn’t been necessary given how he’d checked for messages every couple minutes. It was frustrating because he’d let himself hope that the falling star meant something.
It was just a stupid star and he was a stupid man.
Azriel took the long way home, hoping to work out his feelings on a long, winding drive. Any other day, that would have been a good strategy. Today, however, the universe was conspiring against him by having the world's slowest drivers out on the road, and all directly in front of him.
He was frustrated by the time he got home.
It was Azriel’s turn to slow down as he turned onto his driveway. A car was already there, parked politely, with Emerie in the front seat, legs propped up as she scrolled down her phone. Azriel might have been offended that she didn’t acknowledge him as he pulled beside her had he not seen Gwyn open the passenger side door on the otherside and step out.
He couldn’t breathe as she faced him fully. God, but she was so beautiful. Easily, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life. Gwyn looked at him shyly, tucking a strand of cinnamon colored hair behind her ear.
“You good to bring her home, or should I stay and chaperone?” Emerie asked, rolling the window down.
Azriel blinked. “Uh…yeah.”
Eloquent you ass.
“Great,” Emerie said with a smile before leaning across the passenger seat to tell Gwyn to behave herself. Azriel waited for Emerie to leave, trapping Gwyn at his home. Presumably, they’d discussed it beforehand. This was where Gwyn wanted to be. She wasn’t smiling—why wasn’t she smiling? He was, he thought.
“Hi,” Gwyn said, raising a hand awkwardly.
Azriel’s knees shook. “Hey. Do you uh…want to come in?”
She looked toward his door, biting her bottom lip. Maybe she didn’t. Maybe she’d come to tell him to move on like she had, because she was dating some six foot seven fuck that made millions and—
“Yeah, that would be nice,” Gwyn interrupted, offering him another sweet smile. “You look good.”
His brain short circuited. She thought he looked good? Azriel vowed to hit the gym twice as hard that night. Suddenly, the misery felt worth it because there she was looking just as beautiful as she ever had.
Smiling, now. It was a small smile, a nervous smile he thought. He could work with that, though Azriel wasn’t exactly sure how. Romance wasn’t his strong suit and before that moment, he’d never had to try very hard. No one had ever been worth it, though, either.
Gwyn was.
Azriel gestured for her to follow him, catching the soft, sweet scent of her skin. Fuuuuuuuuck he was so fucked. All she’d have to do was bat her lashes a little and Azriel was confident he’d commit more felonies in her name.
Whole kingdoms had been destroyed because of one perfect woman—Azriel had never understood that back when he’d been in school reading those stories. What woman was worth risking everything for?
But right then, fingertips brushing the back of her hand?
Please keep interacting with this post because when I come to tumblr to procrastinate, this shows up again in my notifications and guilts me into writing again
A good day to remember that Sarah J Maas saved these images on Pinterest a while ago. For those who don't know, Gwyn is a Half-Water Nymph 🩵
"But that doesn't mean anything."
The images she saved during ACOSF. Literally the first book in which Gwyn was introduced to us, a redhead, priestess, Valkyrie, works in the library, kind of a water nymph who loves Pegasus.
The most powerful fae on Midgard are found in the House of Many waters. How do we know this to be true?
The Asteri poisoned the waters.
It is understood that it is the Ocean Queen who could destroy Midgard if she wished to do so, even with the parasite in the waters dampening her powers.
We are still being teased with a book about this Fourth House. In a series which has introduced a full crossover into the Acotar world in which we have ONE water Fae character introduced to the greater plot.
Gwyn is wise, beautiful and trained by the end of SF. She is tied to at least one Court in Prythian which ties to her both to Lucien and Eris, all whom are also tied to Bryce and Midgard through the Autumn King.
Gwyn is most likely the mate of one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors.
And we still do not know who her daddy is.
This, on top of all the hints at her magic and powers. Powers which are likened to light, repeatedly.
"Her voice full of sunshine."
"Nesta never heard a voice like Gwyn's--by turns trained and wild, as if there was too much sound fighting to break free of Gwyn that she couldn't quite contain it all. "
"...holding such a high note it was like a ray of pure light, piercing and summoning."
Also, the big baddie on Prythian is trapped on a literal body of water.
Why?
Soooooo....if one wishes to fool themselves into believing Gwyneth Berdara is a side character who will not be a big deal going forward, I truly beg to differ.
So I was thinking, and I realized how much Az and Gwyn mirror Chaol and Yrene:
Chaol got a bonus chapter before his book that had the same vibes as Azriel’s: filled with lust towards someone but no deep feelings attached.
Chaol was insecure of his injury, just like Azriel is insecure of his scars.
Chaol met another woman after his not so healthy attachment to Nesryn, just like Azriel met Gwyn in his bonus after he was filled with negative emotion during his scene with Elain.
Yrene and Gwyn both found home in some kind of sanctuary for women: Yrene in the Torre and Gwyn in the library.
Yrene helped Chaol heal and realize that his injury doesn’t make him less of a man, he was able to accept it and now he’s confident in himself. I believe Gwyn will have the same effect on Azriel.
The Gwynriel book won’t focus on Gwyn’s healing, it will focus mainly on Azriel’s.
Of course we will have more of Gwyn and she will progress further, but she will be the one to start Azriel’s healing, not the other way around. The name Gwyneth means happiness, and she will be Azriel’s happiness.
whenever i doubt humanity’s ability to continue to create art, i remember that there are hundreds of thousands of amazing writer on ao3 cranking out absolute masterpieces at record pace just for the love of the game
Welp I was gonna post this in a community, but idk if it's allowed so I'm throwing it into the void
I backed a pin kickstarter a few months back and got the rewards today and I am SO IN LOVE
I am a fanfiction fiend and I mainly use ao3. These are what I got: stickers, pins, keychains, "library" card, and rubber bracelets and a wrist layard that aren't pictured. I am so happy rn i can't even express how much
They had the same options for wattpad and fanfiction.net but I don't use those websites, but it's so amazing that they were so inclusive!
“i never see you at the club” ok well i never see you on ao3 at 2am reading about the same two bitches falling in love for the 1000th time in the 500th way
I just saw someone say "there is no ethical consumption under capitalism" as an argument for boycotting AO3
Babe AO3 is a nonprofit. They do not exist under the ethics of capitalism. Fanfiction is legal because no money is ever exchanged around it. (All the money given to AO3 is used to maintain their servers and pay their lawyers to help keep fanfiction legal.)
Fanfiction is one of the few things in this world - probably the one singular form of entertainment that does not exist within the confines of capitalism. So by your own logic, even if you hate some of the content on AO3, it's inherently the only ethical thing to consume in the whole world.
🪽 Valkyrie Appreciation Week 2025 Prompts are here!
We are so excited to celebrate with everyone in October. If you have any questions about prompts, please feel free to send us a message or drop a comment.
These prompts are just suggestions & we welcome all sorts of content (within our guidelines) celebrating our Valkyries! ⚔️
Cover 🎨 @brielyasmin
And a special thank you to all artists, commissioners, and cosplayers who allowed us to use their works! All credits can be found in the prompts!
Morningstar Prints @morningstarprints - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
ellievsbear
prguitarman
jacobvanloon
snowghoul
dailybridgerton
