do you think Azriel has feelings?
Lots. Lots and Lots, nonnie. He doesn't even know where to decipher and unpack those feelings. Those needs and desires that pull at him in every direction. My mans is cONfLicTed and repressed. FREE HIM.
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do you think Azriel has feelings?
Lots. Lots and Lots, nonnie. He doesn't even know where to decipher and unpack those feelings. Those needs and desires that pull at him in every direction. My mans is cONfLicTed and repressed. FREE HIM.
what are your thoughts on the current fandom
You are asking me such spicy questions nonnie!
I'm gonna sound so old but back in the day the fandom was all about creating and interacting with each other. It was a whole lot of fun and now I feel like people are just going over the same source materials for multiple ships and tearing it apart and putting it back together.
I think it just gets stale. Especially the BC we have picked it apart to death and there is not more to be said about it that people haven't already stated.
I miss when people would not tear each others throats out for their ships and just created funny little headcannons and shitpost.
I feel like it's whole of the same theories that people keep posting over and over again and to me that is just unexciting.
LIKE GIVE ME THE UNHINGEDNESS AND FERALNESS OF A GOOD YEARNING FANFIC between your two fave characters.
Tell me how this silly little animal reminds you of a bat boy.
give me a whole essay as to why Azriel is a shadowdaddy that is secretly in love with Eris Vanserra and just hasn't realised it.
I live for the pure crack.
That is what makes the fandom inspiring and fun and most of all engaging.
That is just my $2.50 opinion
For a Gwynriel prompt drabble thing...
What if they've been getting closer and closer as time goes on, like they know eachother better than anyone else does but nobody else realizes how close they actually are. Until one day something happens, like on of them gets hurt or has a panic attack, and the other goes all protective and are the only one who can comfort them. And everyone else is like, when did this happen?
Trigger warning: PTSD, anxiety, panic attack, SA
Gwyn had finally gotten the courage to attend a dinner at the High Lord and Lady's residence.
The champagne had started flowing as soon as she step foot through the threshold. Gwyn wasn't much of a drinker but she indulged herself for such a momentous occasion. The slight fizz and tang of the drink made her feel as light and airy as the bubbles floating up.
Every time the Shadowsingers eyes locked with hers across the room a zap would go through her and her whole body became very aware. She shot him a soft smile as he made his way over to her. He didn't ask if she was 'okay' or 'enjoying herself' like everyone else had so far but instead goaded her and she hadn't realised that was exactly what she needed at that moment as she had been holding her Champagne flute a little too tightly, nervous.
"Your stance is terrible for a warrior" His face was serious as always, but you could see the mischief twinkling behind those hazel eyes.
"My instructor wasn't very good." She dismissed. She watched as his lips twitched at the corner faintly and he struggled to keep his smile at bay. Her heart thumped so viciously. He looked like he was about the say more but Feyre’s twinkling voice cut through the chatter around the room.
"Dinner is ready. Cassian please wait till everyone is seated before shoving your big mouth with food." He kissed her cheek in response as he rushed over to the dining room. Gywn and Azriel still stood there smiling at each other as everyone around them made their way over.
"I'll make you eat those words in our next session, Berdara."
"Don't get too ahead of yourself, Shadowsinger. I heard Cassian say you could work on your hand-to-hand combat a bit more."
The stunned look on his face made her grin even wider as she brushed past him to join the others. The others didn't mark his late entrance or the fact he had to smooth his features back into neutrality as he entered.
Nesta motioned for her to take the free seat beside her but she couldn't help but notice the Spymaster sitting a few spots away with an empty chair next to him too. She hesitated and was graced from making a decision as Elain sat next to her sister.
Gwyn made her way to the last remaining spot. Her cheeks burned a bright red as Azriel pulled her chair out and waited until she was settled before easing himself in. Rhys, who was sitting on the other side of her, went to fill up her glass with red wine and it was at the moment her eyes were drawn to the crimson runner on the wooden table. All the air felt like it had been knocked out of her chest as the blood drained from her face.
God, no. Please not here, she thought as her hands started trembling violently. Her hips where pinned again with the bite of oak digging in to her. A heavy body, scalding her back as her night gown was rucked around her legs. Gwyns cheeks scrapped along the roughened texture as the tang of salt mixed with the taste of her despair. His abrasive movements inside her had her willing the mother to make it all stop. Her eyes fixated on the woven red runner, looking like the blood of the innocence spilling down her legs and-
“Gwyn?” Nesta’s voice prodded as she spiraled silently into herself. She didn’t know when warrioress had come to her side, worry lining her forehead. She stood abruptly, knocking the wine over. The sight of the red staining and pooling on the floor made that night and this setting blur together. The room was a kaleidoscope of colours and sound. Someone touched her arm and her body reacted, knocking them down and flipping them on their back.
“Please!” She bemoaned, clutching her head as her lungs tried to get air. Horrible, retching escaped deep from within her broken body. A babe wail filled the air, reminding her of all the children that didn’t get to escape their fate.
“Gwyn.” A voice as deep as the bottom of the ocean called to her, pulling her to the surface. Warmth of the soil and cold of the ice blended together. It filled her eyeline.
“Breathe.” She hadn’t realised that air still wasn’t reaching her inside.
“Breathe.” The voice as smooth as water gilding through her fingers reminded her. He didn’t dare touch her yet. The sounds around overwhelmed her. The scents of meats and spices made her nauseous.
“I’m going to take your hand, okay?”
She thought she might have let out a nod as roughened fingers enlaced hers. Her vision swimming as he brought it to his chest. She still wasn’t getting enough air. The heat seeped through his tunic and spread through her numb fingers. His heartbeat was a steady thrum.
“Count.” He commanded.
“One....two..” She croaked, weakly. “Three, four, five.” Each number coming with more ease than the next.
“Ten, eleven, twelve.” The voice joined her and eventually things stopped being so out of focus. Her nails that had dug into his chest, loosened slightly.
“You are the rock against which the surf crashes.” He rumbled. “Repeat it.”
“I am...the rock...against which the surf crashes.” She hesitated.
“Again.”
“I am the rock against which the surf crashes.” Her voice coming out more stronger this time. She didn’t know how much time passed as they kept repeating the exercise but when she came to, her head hurt, her body was limp and the Shadowsingers thumb was reaching up to brush away the tears that had spilled out her eyes.
Embarrassment tided through her as she leaned heavily against Azriel. Their hands still entwined and laying across her lap. She focused on the blue siphons instead of the occupants currently gaping with surprise.
“We need water.” Azriel snapped, darkness coated every word.
“I’m fine.” You croaked at him, but he was not having it. The room suddenly fell into motion again, sounds echoing around them. You recognised the High Lords wedding band as he tried to hand you the glass only for Azriel to intercept before your fingers could brush.
“I’ve got it.” He told his brother with his no nonsense attitude. Rhys seemed stunned at the curt manner or the situation being resolved by Azriel. She wasn’t quite sure. The water going down her throat was the reprieve she had needed.
Her eyes tracked Rhys as he shared a look with someone over Azriel’s head.
“Do you need anything else?” Mor came up to the other side of Azriel.
“Just give her a minute.” He huffed back. She didn’t even think he realised that his wings was lifting up higher and curving towards her.
“Azriel, we aren’t going to hurt her.” It was Nesta gentle soothing that had his shoulders relaxing marginally.
From the astounded expression ranging across everyone’s faces. She came to the realisation that Azriel didn’t do this often and that they hadn’t ever seen this side of him. It confused her since this was a side of him that she was well acquainted with. He was the rock which the surf crashes against....
Gwyn learning how to maintain and clean swords and daggers, driving Az to distraction
Azriel cursed his brother multiple times in his head. His eyes had a hard time straying away from the Priestess's slender fingers handling a dagger. The way the cloth whispered up and down the silver blade. His throat bobbed painfully. His eyes clashed with Nesta's behind Gywn. The glare she was sending his way made it obvious he wasn't hiding his emotions very well. A faint pink crept upon his cheeks. He averted his gaze and tried to focus on the task at hand, fixing the girls' stances but his eyes kept wandering back to the Acolyte with the haunting voice. Her firm grip on the hilt made a low ache build in his core. He excused himself suddenly, startling Cassian and he stalked out of the training ring. His hands shook and his breathing was harsh as he leaned against the stone pillar.
He was fucked indeed.
Gwyn, Azriel. In the library. Late Nights. Researching. That's it.
Ink stains covering Azriel's graceful and scarred fingers.
Gwyn, stealing furtive looks under her lashes.
The steam of tea wisping around the two like shadows.
The rustling of pages and sleep-laden eyes.
The darkness of the night shrouding the truth of what lay between.
HOW DID YOU KNOW AZRIEL WAS THE ONE?
"They also said Azriel's wings are the biggest..." ~ACOMAF
"The shadows lurking vanished entirely as Azriel's head dipped a bit-his night-dark hair sliding over his handsome face as if to shield him from that mercilessly beautiful grin." ~ ACOMAF
My Fajitas were on fire and I was like yes this is the one.
who is more protective?
They are both pretty protective. I know Az is the obvious answer but liiiisten Gwyn turns feral mode with the slightest provocation when it comes to Azriel. The court of nightmares sneer at Az? Gwyn lithe form is standing in front of her Spymaster, staring each and everyone one of them down, willing to go to war for him. One of Eris' brother's gag and mock Azriel's hands. His fist clenches and his jaw tightens but that is nothing compared to Gwyn. Her eyes are a tsunami about to decimate everything in its path. She gives them one warning to shut their fat mouths. This only makes them hoot harder, only seeing a slender form and not the Valkyrie warrior. She's liquid like water as she rushes in. Within a blink of an eye, she knocks him off his ass, pins him to the ground, and is holding a dagger to his kneck. "Apologise. Now." He almost wets himself from fright, calling his father for help. Beron ignores the withering bumbling idiot, sneering.
"I-I'm sorry." He'd finally cry out. Gwyn would leave him with a shallow cut on his cheek as a reminder to never speak ill of her Shadowsinger again.
"I think he got the message, love." Azriel would say in the softest tone. His voice was like midnight death as he talked her down from the ledge from killing Beron's stupid offspring. Gwyn's eyes would still be pinned to redhead beneath her.
Az would kneel down next to her and tilt her chin to meet his eyes.
"You've proven your point." His finger would gently caress down the side of her cheek. Her eyes would shut and the breath that she was holding would release. It was startling to see the affectionate gesture since the two were so private about their relationship. The crashing storm in her eyes would settle to gentle waves.
"He hurt you." She murmured.
"And you've hurt him in return." He nodded. He held that scarred hand out to her and she finally slipped her fingers through his, kissing his palm before rising. Azriel's lids would lower to conceal his inner turmoil from the beautiful gesture.
Who is always horny and will have sex at any time, at any place and at any time?
GWYN. This woman is a little minx when she is more comfortable with the idea of intimacy and sex. So many years of her reading all those romance and smut books have given her lots of ideas and lots of yearning. Move over Nessian and Feysand, these two are the height of inappropriate and horny. On Azriel's desk, in Nesta's library, in the training ring right before the others were set to arrive. In Rhys office, in Feyres art studio, during the annual snowball fight. It's safe to say Azriel lost that year. They stopped short of a blow job in the SA safe haven. Apparently, they have some sense of decency and restraint.
Az almost died when he was in his office at the riverside manor, finishing a report for Rhys when Gywn sauntered into the room. He made no mistakes as to why she was here. He could smell her arousal. She had unlaced his pants and her mouth on him in mere seconds. He was a groaning and quivering mess. He was so close to reaching his peak when his brother walked in and Az concealed Gywn with his shadows, hiding her scent and her under the table.
He thought she would have the shame to stop while their High Lord was in the room but it only made her more determined to have him come apart. Azriel was not a quiet lover and being forced to do so had him sweating bullets. Rhys would look at him funny and ask him multiple times if he was alright. He was so concerned he tried to convince him to call Madja because he looked flushed. Azriel was just short of flipping the table trying to get his brother to leave.