#Gwynriel appreciation weeks 2024

[sadiegirl2021]

My submission for @gwynrielweeksofficial on Ao3

One bed trope mixed with firsts!

Where It All Started - Sneak Peak

It all began innocently enough.

One night, Gwyn found herself ensnared in a recurring nightmare, the kind that relentlessly disturbed her sleep. Azriel's shadows had woken him up, whispering that Gwyn needed his help. He hadn’t been in her room before. She’d claimed one near his own a few months ago, finally accepting Nesta’s offer to live in the main house.

Without hesitation, Azriel, armed with his trusty dagger, hurried to her room, ready to defend his friend. But, upon entering, he discovered no external threat—only Gwyn thrashing feverishly in bed, repeatedly uttering the word 'no.'

“Gwyn,” he called gently, hesitant to touch her. He instructed his shadows to shake her lightly while trying to call to her again.

“Gwyn!” This time she responded, shooting up out of bed, startled and frantic, scanning her surroundings for intruders, sweat coating her body.

“It was just a nightmare,” Azriel reassured her, settling himself at the foot of her bed while reaching for her hand.

“It felt so real,” she said, her breaths coming in pants, unshed tears threatening to fall.

Azriel squeezed her hand in comfort. She willed herself not to cry, running through her mind-stilling, trying to calm herself.

He copied her breathing in solidarity, wondering if she had bad dreams like this in the priestess dormitories and how they would soothe her back to sleep. All he could offer was his patience.

When Gwyn had finally calmed, Azriel dropped her hand, moving to leave her to sleep. “I’ll be down the hall if you need me,” he said, offering a small smile as he rose.

She grabbed his hand back before he could leave. “Az….”

He looked at her with a softness she rarely saw. “Yes?”

“Can you stay with me tonight… please?”

Azriel nodded. He moved to grab one of the chairs near the fireplace to place beside her bed.

"Can you sleep beside me, maybe hold me? My sister used to do that when I had nightmares," she interjected.

Azriel nodded once more but glanced down at himself. He had rushed into her room so quickly that he was only now painfully aware he was in just his undershorts. "Do you want me to put more clothes on first?" he asked tentatively.

She probably should have been more concerned about his lack of dress, but she trusted Azriel. He could be completely bare, and she knew he wouldn’t touch her without permission. "No, it’s fine," she replied, pulling the blanket down for him to join her in bed.

They adjusted until Azriel’s arm enveloped her shoulders, and her face nestled against his chest. He couldn’t help but inhale her scent as her hair brushed against his nose. It was hypnotic, lavender and sun-kissed oceans. Had anyone ever smelt so divine to him? His wing instinctively wrapped around her like an extra blanket of protection against the world.

“Thank you, Azriel… It’s coming up to the anniversary of losing Catrin. The nightmares are always worse around this time.”

Azriel’s heart squeezed. He should have remembered it was coming up, but he tried to block out the memories of that day as much as possible.

“Of course, Gwyn. I’m always here for you… we all are,” he reassured her, placing a gentle kiss on her head. She snuggled closer, holding him tighter. Azriel could get used to this. He couldn’t remember the last time he just held someone. He was usually all business when it came to intimacy. Trousers were back on right after, and he was out the door before he could be roped into pillow talk.

But this was nice. Gwyn felt so soft and warm, and he couldn’t resist tracing soothing circles along her arm as he listened to the rhythmic beating of her heart. He willed his own to beat in sync.

It felt right being with her in this way, an additional means to comfort and protect her. Lately, he found himself doing that quite often—keeping a watchful eye on her during training, strolling a bit closer to her in the city, sitting beside her at dinner… and breakfast, and sometimes lunch! If she noticed the extra attention, she didn't mention it. They were friends after all… maybe even more than that. He was drawn to her. And not just because she was the most beautiful female he'd ever met, but because she was so much more than that. She was strong, fierce, and competitive. And he loved spending time with her.

“Azriel,” Gwyn whispered.

“Yes?” he replied, feeling extremely relaxed. Which was rare for him.

“What are you thinking about?”

He smiled to himself, “I was thinking you might be the best friend I’ve ever had.”

She laughed against his chest, “Wow! Don’t tell Nesta that!” He chuckled in agreement.

“Do your shadows sleep?” she asked.

Azriel hummed a ‘yes’.

“Where?”

“In the corner, under the bed, beside the door… anywhere dark.”

Gwyn went quiet, and he could feel himself falling asleep. That was until she asked, “Did they tell you I was dreaming?”

“Yes,” he confirmed while letting out a yawn he couldn’t hold back.

He could feel Gwyn smile against his chest, “Do you want me to stop talking now?”

“No, no… I’m fine,” he answered, his voice unconvincing as he held in a second yawn. Staying awake seemed impossible.

Gwyn chuckled. “Goodnight, Azriel,” she murmured, placing a tiny kiss against him, right on his heart.

Azriel tightened his grip on her. “Goodnight, Gwyn.”

Within moments, he drifted into oblivion, Gwyn not far behind.

They both slept soundly, undisturbed by anything else for the rest of the night.

[positivewitch]

Azriel Week | Day 2 - Scarred

@azrielappreciationweek

ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azriel and Gwyn are drawing hearts and constellations to each other’s hands.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

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A post shared by PositiveWitch🌙 (@positivewitch)

[freyjas-musings]

For @azrielappreciationweek

Prompt - Belonging

Azriel has always wanted a mate more than anyone else so for this prompt silvermajesty_4 and I wanted to present a fanart that depicted him with his mate someone who truly shared his soul and someone he belonged to ....

Adduani the artist to this gorgeous fanart was an absolute dream to work with her work is so fabulous and her work ethic is commendable.

Repost Not Allowed

Characters belong to Sarah J Maas

[gwynweekofficial]

Gwyn stepping out of the library and exploring Velaris to her hearts content with the people she loves .... for the adventure prompt this artwork by kloartz thats full of light love and vibrancy is everything ♥️

Character by Sarah J Maas

[thevalkyriesshadow]

@azrielappreciationweek

Day Four: Paid Time Off

When Azriel isn't training or on missions he's...

Reading - mysteries, weird fantasy, adventures, philosophy, theories, research

Going to the beach. It's such a cleansing, peaceful place. He doesn't go too far in, but he likes to wade through the shallow parts, lay out in the sun, and mindlessly make sandcastles. All activities where he doesn't have to think or do anything too strenuous.

Visiting his mother as often as he can. Azriel gives her the biggest hug when he sees her, and they spend hours catching up. She loves to hear about his research on extradimensional travel and his work with the Valkyries (she asks lots of questions about Gwyn 🤭). In turn, he loves to hear about her new hobbies and friends she's made. And not a visit goes by without one of them singing - whether it's Azriel singing the latest hymn he heard Gwyn sing at Temple or his mother humming an old lullaby, those two love to sing together.

[shadowsxgwynriel]

Day 4: Adventure

@gwynweekofficial

A sleepless night leads Gwyn to join Azriel for a night out at Rita’s.

Word Count: 1.3k

Read on AO3

Snippet:

Gwyn threw the covers from her body, accepting that she was going to have another sleepless night. Which was bad considering that Merrill was expecting her to be at work early in the morning.

She changed out of her gown into a pair of training leathers. Then silently ascended the stairs, heading for the training ring, deciding that she would practice with her sword until she was fatigue enough to get some sleep.

But the ring was already occupied.

[sonics-atelier]

A Tranquil Evening

For @gwynweekofficial Day 6 : Alternate Universe

a/n : I wanted to write a piece where Gwyn finds comfort doing the things that bring her happiness, only the best for our girl 🤍 ( no this isn't because I too want a break )

Gwyn pushed open the door to her apartment, her flaming red hair cascading over her shoulders in a torrent of unruly curls. Her teal eyes, flecked with hints of fatigue, glimmered with a quiet resolve. The burdens of the day, heavy with research papers and academic obligations, seemed to dissipate as she crossed the threshold into her sanctuary.

Her loyal companion, Shadow, a sleek black cat with eyes like emeralds, greeted her with a languid stretch and a soft purr. Gwyn's lips curved into a smile as she knelt to stroke his velvety fur. "Hello, my little Shadow," she murmured, feeling the day's tension begin to unravel with each gentle touch.

Determined to indulge in an evening of self-care, Gwyn glided to the bathroom, where she commenced the ritual of drawing a luxurious bath. She selected her most cherished lavender-scented bath salts, watching as they dissolved into the steaming water, releasing tendrils of calming fragrance that filled the room. The soft glow of candlelight, dancing shadows on the walls, further transformed the space into a haven of tranquility.

Disrobing with a sense of liberation, Gwyn slipped into the bath, the warmth enveloping her in a soothing embrace. She exhaled a sigh of contentment, reclining against the tub's edge. Her fingers deftly navigated her phone, queuing a playlist of gentle acoustic melodies that harmonized perfectly with the serene ambiance.

Beside the tub lay a carefully curated selection of books, each one a portal to another world. She chose one and began to read, the words on the pages weaving a tapestry of escape and imagination. Time became fluid, each moment suspended in a bubble of peace and introspection.

Reluctantly, Gwyn emerged from the bath, her skin tingling with a renewed vitality. She donned a plush robe, its soft fabric a comforting contrast to the day's formal attire. Her stomach growled softly, a reminder of her neglected hunger. With a flourish, she ordered an array of delectable dishes from her favorite restaurant, anticipating a feast that would delight her senses.

While awaiting the arrival of her meal, she wandered into the living room where Shadow had already claimed a spot on the couch. His expectant gaze met hers, and she chuckled softly. "Feeling peckish, are we?" she teased, as she reached for his favorite gourmet cat food. Shadow's contented purrs filled the room as he ate, his satisfaction mirroring her own.

When the doorbell finally chimed, Gwyn retrieved her feast and arranged it artfully on the coffee table. She nestled into the couch beside Shadow, savoring each bite of her meal, each flavor a testament to culinary excellence. Shadow, now replete, curled up beside her, his gentle purring a soothing counterpoint to the evening's quietude.

In that moment, Gwyn felt a profound sense of contentment. The relentless demands of her research and the pressures of academia seemed distant, almost inconsequential, against the backdrop of this simple, perfect evening. She stroked Shadow's sleek fur, feeling his warmth seep into her fingertips, grounding her in the present.

As the night deepened and the candles flickered low, Gwyn found herself enveloped in a cocoon of tranquility. She marveled at the importance of these moments of self-care and introspection, realizing they were the bedrock upon which her passion and drive were built. They were essential, these interludes of peace, as vital as the air she breathed.

With Shadow by her side, Gwyn felt a serene smile tug at her lips. The day's trials had faded into oblivion, replaced by the gentle stillness of the night. In the sanctuary of her home, she had found solace and joy, a reminder that amidst the chaos, there was always a place for peace.

And as sleep gently claimed her, Gwyn knew that in these quiet moments of self-care, she had discovered the true essence of happiness.

- @sonics-atelier 2024 ( do not repost or reuse in any way shape or form, I will decapitate you )

[gwynrielweeksofficial]

Repost and Rules:

Tag @gwynrielweeksofficial on your post!

Use the #gwynrielweeks2024 hashtag on your post!

Please make sure any art which is reposted is correctly credited to the proper artist(s)

No AI generated images will be accepted as content submissions

Content that degrades or demeans other people/characters/ships will not be accepted as submissions.

[kale-theteaqueen]

✨ A03 Master List ✨

The Masterlist is getting a bit long so I've decided to split off my appreciation week posts! Click the links indicated for those below.

✨ A Court of Thorns and Roses ✨

Nessian

Post-ACOWAR:

Lady Death and Her Kingdom -- Nessian in which Nesta sees the dead, multichapter fic, ongoing

And Now She Becomes Death -- Nessian, in which Hybern revenge kidnaps Nesta for beheading the king, multichapter fic, ongoing.

Post-ACOFAS

To Pay a Debt --Nessian, in which Nesta leaves Velaris after seeing that she hasn't been included in Feyre's paintings, but her mother has, multi chapter fic, completed.

The Whole Truth -- Nessian, in which Elain reveals that their father sold Nesta multiple times when they lived in the cabin, multi chapter fic, ongoing.

Post-ACOSF/ACOSF-Fix It

Burning From the Inside Out -- Nessian, in which it is revealed that Nesta has chronic pain/illness, multi chapter fic, completed.

The Hike, Alternatively -- Nessian, alternative take on the hike, in which Nesta attempts suicide, multichapter fic, completed.

Of Death and Resurrection, Nessian/Rhysta Brotp, in which Nesta sacrifices her life to save Feyre, but can't be fully killed due to her power, thus requiring Rhys to go into her mind to save her, multi chapter fic, completed.

Of Open Wounds and Retribution, Nessian, set in the ODaR-verse in which Nesta meets Tomas Mandray at a peace summit between humans and fae, and the family discovers what he did to her, two shot, completed.

The Consequences of Normality, Nessian, in which Nesta tries to conform to IC expectations post-ACOSF, and Cassian realizes that he prioritizes them over her, three shot, completed.

Like Fire, She Raged -- Nessian (ish), In which Emerie calls out the IC for their treatment of Nesta/treatment of Illyrian females, two-shot, completed.

Three Little Words -- Nessian, in which Nesta asks Cassian if he loves her, because he didn't say it during ACOSF, one shot, completed.

Non-Canonverse AUs

The Humble Art of Gift Giving -- Gift for ACOTAR Secret Santa, in which Nesta takes gift giving very, very seriously, and Cassian loves her all the more for it. One shot, completed.

Leap of Faith -- WWII!AU in which paratrooper Cassian meets a married Nesta while preparing for D-Day in England. Multichapter fic, ongoing.

Gwynriel

Of Shadows and Light, Gwynriel, a sequel to Of Death and Resurrection that follows the development of Azriel and Gwyn's relationship, multi chapter fic, completed.

Character Appreciation Weeks

Nesta Appreciation Week

2024 Submissions

Cassian Appreciation Week

2024 Submissions

Nessian Appreciation Week

2024 Submissions

[maased-out]

Hi everyone and get ready for another year of SJM fun! Below, you'll find a list of events for 2024.

See the upcoming events for 2025 here.

NOTE: These events are meant to foster positivity within their respective fandoms. Negativity towards any specific event is not welcome.

NOTE: If you would like your event to be included on the maased-out calendar, please click here.

January

February

SJM Romance Week (February 8th–February 14th)

March

Gwynriel Appreciation Weeks (March 10th–March 23rd)

Feyre Appreciation Week (March 18th–March 24th)

Starfall Week (March 19th–March 25th)

April

Feylin Week (April 1- April 5th)

Poly+ ACOTAR Week (April 7th–April 13th)

Tamlin Appreciation Week (April 14th–April 20th)

Nesta Week (April 21st–April 27th)

May

Elriel Month (May 1- May 31)

Ruhn Danaan Week (May 19th–May 25th)

June

Azris Week (June 2- June 8th)

Gwyn week (June 16-22)

July

Elucien Week (July 14th-July 20th)

Cassian Appreciation Week (July 22nd–July 28th)

August

Acotar Omegaverse Week (August 4th-10th)

Tristan Flynn Week (August 4- August 10)

Rhysand Appreciation Week (August 18th-August 24th)

Neris Week (August 24th-August 30th)

September

Rowaelin Month (September 1st-September 30th)

Eris Vanserra Week (September 8th–September 14th)

Nessian Appreciation Week (September 15th–September 21st)

October

SJM Villain Week (October 1-October 7)

Feysand Week (October 13-October 19th)

Valkyrie Week (October 20-October 26th)

November

Lucien Week (November 3- November 9th)

Mor Week (November 10th-November 16th)

Azriel Appreciation Week (November 10th- November 16th)

Emerie Week (November 24th -November 30th)

December

Acotar Advent Calendar (December 1 - December 31)

Winter Court Week (December 15 - December 21)

[sadiegirl2021]

Day Three — Belonging

@azrielappreciationweek

Azriel finding happiness, comfort, a sense of belonging, and pure joy in the arms of the one he loves.

"I belong with you, you belong with me. You're my sweetheart."

[positivewitch]

Emerie Week | Day 1 - Entrepreneur ✨

@emerieweekofficial 💫

✨💫 Emerie is taking care of new materials and checking out the income of the shop and House of Wind gang accompany her 🙌💫✨

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[hlizr50]

I didn't predict my first contribution to Gwynriel Weeks 2024 being an all-consuming sequel to a friend's fic, but here we are @gwynrielweeksofficial

It's just convenient that it fits well enough with Day 9: Music

This is a sequel to Humming of the Heart, posted by @sunshinebingo for Day 6: Mates. It was such delicious, heartbreaking groundwork that I felt the overwhelming need to give it a happy ending.

So, without further ado, may I present:

A Symphony of Two

Read on AO3

Two years.

Two years since that hum had begun, low and steady. If his heart was a metronome, the beat that guided the rhythm of his life, then the quiet thrum of the mating bond was the long, sweeping notes of the cello, just waiting for the orchestra to enter. To match their melody to his sorrowful, lonely harmony.

Two years since his mate had run from him, the salt of her tears bitter on his tongue. Or perhaps those were his own.

From all the stories he’d been told – the legends – Azriel had expected the loss to drive him nearly mad. True, the year that passed between that fateful day and his first day of training had been long and bitter and dark, but he’d been perfectly able to appreciate the bright moments, too. The addition of Feyre into their circle, into the family. The victory over Hybern and the Cauldron. There were so many things to be grateful for. So many times he had grinned.

And yet, that humming in his heart remained.

He’d realized, after a solid month of wallowing, that Gwyneth Berdara hadn’t rejected the mating bond. At least not officially, apparently, by whatever great magic decided those things. Did that mean he stood a chance? Not by any stretch of the imagination. But at least he hadn’t been made feral.

Well, perhaps he was feral.

Not because his mate had denied him the bond that he’d craved for centuries – the proof that he was a male worthy of love and happiness. No, the potential loss of his Cauldron-chosen partner warranted little of his attention anymore.

No, it was that he’d spent the last year watching Gwyneth Berdara bloom before his very eyes, a beautiful, delicate lily that had finally been showered in sunlight. Gone was the timid priestess who had given him an uncertain smile the first day he’d assisted with training. Now, in the pastels that were lighting the dawn sky, stood a warrior with a quick wit, a mischievous glint her eye, a powerful body, and a confidence that could outshine the sun.

Every day he’d watched, keeping a polite distance whilst his heart and mind and soul warred, that hum a constant undercurrent to every moment of tension, every glance, every smile, every proud observation. Azriel couldn’t deny that there was something that tugged at him ceaselessly, pulling him toward the Valkyrie who was the first to cut the ribbon.

But it wasn’t the mating bond. It was just… her.

To his surprise and his utter delight, their estrangement hadn’t lasted long. Azriel had been charmed by her irreverence from the moment she’d had the courage to show it, and he’d been practically enamored ever since. They’d become friends over daggers and punches during sleepless nights. Gwyn had gifted him smiles more luminous than the moon could ever hope to be, and she’d pulled so much laughter from him that he almost feared for his infamous Spymaster reputation.

The shadowsinger had never told her about those long, sleepless nights, poring over reports and maps, when he’d felt the pluck of that constantly thrumming chord. Sharp and sudden, the fleeting, phantom terror and desperation almost real enough to grip between his scarred fingers. He wondered if Gwyn felt his nightmares as keenly as he felt hers, and cursed himself that they might add to her sleepless nights. If she did, she never shared. But they would both inevitably find their way back to each other in the training ring, where they would battle their demons together.

“I’m sure that, as Spymaster, you’ve developed quite a talent for lurking, Shadowsinger. But it is quite impolite.”

Gwyn hadn’t turned to face him the entire time he’d been perched at the edge of the doorway. But, of course, that never seemed to matter. Was it the bond that made her so aware of him? Or was it more than that? With a chuckle he stepped into the morning light, flaring his wings to feel the warmth of the sun’s first rays as he joined her at the edge of the ring, her feet dangling precariously over the edge.

“You shouldn’t sit like that. You could fall to your death,” he mused, sitting down next to her. Close enough that he could feel the warmth of her body, but far enough to be proper.

Close enough for her to bump her shoulder against his playfully. “But I have a big strong male with wings sitting right next to me. Surely he would be chivalrous enough to take flight and save me.”

Azriel couldn’t help but huff a small laugh, even as he rolled his eyes. “Chivalrous winged males cannot save you when you’re sitting on a ledge alone, Berdara,” he scolded, earning nothing more than an apathetic hum in reply. So stubborn, she was. Nearly reckless in her contentment. His shadows danced lazily around them both as he gazed upon her, drinking her in like a male dying of thirst.

The priestess had tilted her chin, angling her face to be warmed completely by the sun as it continued to rise over the horizon. Her skin had taken on more color as training had progressed, staining her cheeks a near-permanent pink, and her freckles had multiplied, splattering over her cheeks to outnumber the stars in the night sky. Azriel often found himself wanting to count them, connect them, commit them to memory.

Clarity struck him like the tip of a spear, aimed at his heart. While the bond had thrummed incessantly behind his ribs, what he felt for the redhead beside him went far beyond mystical magic and power matches. The deep pit of despair and icy rage that had sharpened him when she’d been stolen and dropped into the Blood Rite – those were not the bond’s doing, but his own thawing heart. The smiles and the laughter and the heated debates over the best way to take one’s tea – those intimacies were not forged by a mystical cauldron or a deity in the heavens.

It was her. It was him. It was them.

The Cauldron didn’t always choose mates that were compatible beyond the power games of the fae. His brothers had just been extremely lucky.

Perhaps Azriel was just lucky, too. But only if Gwyn felt the same.

The silence stretched, with the Valkyrie smiling gently into the sun as his shadows drifted and his lungs filled and the hum lifted, singing to him with a siren’s song. Beckoning. Encouraging.

“Do you still feel it?”

He didn’t know if it was a question so much as a plea. Please, still feel it, his heart beckoned. Please want to.

Gwyn’s eyes were wide and gleaming like the Sidra at midday as she jerked her chin toward him, rosy lips parted in surprise. Her expression softened after only a moment, a sad smile lifting the corners of her lips.

“Every day.”

Azriel swallowed, an effort to dislodge the lump in his throat. He’d wondered about this for a few weeks, now. Wondered whether he should tell her. Whether he should try to reach out to her, try to acknowledge this link between them.

Mother knew where the courage came from, but he summoned it with a deep inhale and placed his scarred hand over hers on the stone.

“I feel it, too.”

He hated the way that her eyes shuddered, growing dark with uncertainty. “Az—”

“You told me two years ago…” his voice drifted off, realization dawning on him.

Fuck… this was really it. He was doing this.

“You wished for me to find someone that could see all of me,” Azriel continued, thumb absently drifting over her knuckles. “Do you?”

“I do,” Gwyn whispered. He smiled, giving her hand a comforting squeeze. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“Of course I do, Gwyn. I could never forget that day,” he admitted, then continued before she could respond, “You also told me that you wished for me to find someone who could match my beauty and strength and courage. Someone truly deserving of me.”

“Azriel—”

He lifted his hands before her eyes, a silent question, and her breath hitched even as she nodded, silver tears flowing over her lashes. Azriel cupped her cheeks in his palms, brushing away those tiny droplets as he stared deep into her stormy blue eyes.

“Gwyneth Berdara. You are the strongest, bravest person I think I’ve ever known. You could have stayed in the Library forever, shielded from the outside world, and nobody could have ever judged you for it. And yet… you didn’t. I have watched you build your confidence and hone your body. I’ve been blessed to get to know you and laugh with you, to call you my friend. I’ve had a spectacular vantage point to watch as you have blossomed into the fierce, incredible female that you are.” The words were a declaration. A vow. A plea. Everything. Azriel laid himself bare before her, praying that she understood how wrong she was those years ago. “If anything, it’s me that doesn’t deserve you.”

His favorite Valkyrie sniffled, doing her best to shake her head as he held it. That was the only sound, and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest if she didn’t answer, and soon.

Gwyn’s palms were warm over his fingers – holding him, holding her. “You deserve the world, Azriel. I just,” she hesitated, taking a shaky breath, “I just don’t know if I can give it to you.”

It was Azriel’s turn to shake his head, his unruly hair falling in front of his eyes until he shook it away again.

“I don’t need the world, Berdara. I just want you,” he murmured, watching her expressive face for every twitch and hit of reaction. She was never able to hide her feelings from him, not with the way her eyes would widen and her lips would hitch for a moment. A tiny smile lifted one corner of her mouth, but her gaze was still unsure. So he plunged onward, “You said back then that you were broken. I think you know, by now, that I am, too. Maybe our broken pieces will fit together. Maybe that’s how it was always supposed to be.”

He pulled away for only a moment before reaching for her again, grasping at her fingertips and gripping one of her hands between his.

“There’s no pressure. No expectation. I care for you deeply, Gwyn. Not because some magical relic proclaimed it, but because I have been blessed to know you. I only humbly pray that you might want to give this a chance. Because the only person who fits all those criteria you so thoughtfully laid out – what feels like a lifetime ago – is you.”

Azriel had always known that Gwyn’s smile was a wonder, incandescent and genuine and joyful. But seeing it now, as he begged her to step fully into whatever this thing between them could be, felt like flying.

“You want me, Shadowsinger?” she breathed on a wet little disbelieving huff. He grinned back at her.

“I do, Berdara,” he confirmed. And then she laughed with all of her voice, a melody of bells and harps and strings finally joining that cello humming in his heart, and threw herself into his chest, her arms circling his neck.

“I want you, too,” she whispered as he wrapped her in his embrace.

And his shadows sang along, the symphony complete.

[gwynweekofficial]

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A post shared by eduarda 🌸 (@sanktadu1)

Somethings are greater than fear . Gwyn the Carynthian Valkyrie 😍😍😍. This artworks captures the fierce beauty that Gwyn has . Commissioned by Sanktadu

Artist Luardraws

[azsazz]

ACOTAR Appreciation Weeks

I found most of the weeks! If I'm missing any lmk and I'll update! TY! 💙 Also, idk if these are reoccurring but it's what I found.

SJM Romance Week: Feb 8-14 (@sjmromanceweek)

Gwynriel Week: Mar 10-23 (@gwynrielweeksofficial)

Feyre Week: Mar 18-24 (@feyreweekofficial)

Starfall Week: Mar 19-25 (@starfallweek)

Poly!ACOTAR Week: Apr 7-14 (@polyacotarweek)

Tamlin Week: Apr 14-20 (@tamlinweek)

Nesta Week: Apr 23-29 (@nestaarcheronweek)

Azris Week: Jun 4-10 (@azrisweek) (2024 dates TBD)

Gwyn Week: Jun 11-17 (@gwynweekofficial)

Elucien Week: July 9-15 (@elucienweekofficial)

Archeron Sisters Week: Jul 16-22 (@archeronsistersweekofficial)

Cassian Week: Jul 30-Aug 5 (@cassianappreciationweek)

Mor Week: Aug 6-12 (@morweekofficial)

Valkyrie Week: Aug 14-23 (@officialvalkyrieweek)

Feysand Week: Aug 21-27 (@officialfeysandweek2023)

Neris Week: Aug 28-Sep 3/Aug 26-Sep 1 (@nerisweek)

Elain Week: Sep 3-9 (@elainappreciationweek)

Nessian Week: Sep 10-16 (@nessianweek)

Eris Week: Sep 17-23 (@erisweekofficial)

Rhysand Week: Sep 24-30 (@officialrhysandweek)

Lucien Week: Oct 8-14 (@lucienweekofficial)

Azriel Week: Nov 5-11 (@azrielappreciationweek)

Emerie week: Nov 12-18 (@emerieweekofficial)

[thevalkyriesshadow]

@azrielappreciationweek

Day Two: Scarred

His hands are scarred. Memories of pain burn forever. His hands are scarred. Centuries of torture have marred them, Sullying thoughts of his own body, his own existence. Hating what they have done. His hands are scarred. His psyche more so. But... He is his mother's son. Forever loved. He wants to do good, be a hero in someone's eyes. And he is. His hands are scarred, but she trusts him. Trusts him to teach her how to protect herself. With her, his hands are scarred, but just that. They are not marred. They are not sullied. They teach. They guide. They are his hands -- and they are loved. By her. She who is thankful for what they've done. She who has seen what they are capable of, but trusts him all the same. She who understands scars, and that the visible ones aren't the only ones. He is scarred. But he is loved and he is worthy.