#gwyn x elain

[thebookishgaymer]

Fuck it. The ship war has gone too far.

Azcien and Gwylain are now the end game ships. There will be no more discussion.

[sjmromanceweek]

Gwyn and Elain are both survivors. What else could they be? Tell @sjmromanceweek running Feb 8th- Feb 14th!

Artist: venusfolk

[gwynlain]

Full credit to the beautiful artist @ginavampina @ The Beautiful Darkness

[izanna]

Gwynlain art ;)

I made this myself

Elain looked over the priestess as she hummed catching her place in the poetry she was reading aloud, the glowing face that called to her, those lips begging to be kissed so softly.

“Elain are you paying attention?”

Elain startled, and gave a slight nod “Yes, Beautiful.”

She didn’t mean the poetry.

Do not repost

If you steal I will find you

Only share link please 🌸🧜‍♀️🙌🏼💞🌸

[youkoeyes]

Gwynlain would be the sweetest, fluffiest ship with rainbow Pegasuses, meadows and coffee shops while Azris would be the kinkiest, darkest ship with restraints, cock cages and leather bars.

[fieldofdaisiies]

random Gwynlain headcanon but imagine Elain always leaving little flowers in Gwyn‘s favourite books for her to randomly find them and Gwyn picking out books on flowers and plants and baking for Elain...

[vivictory-draws]

Me, upon seeing two women get pitted against each other for the sake of some guy: ok but what if they kissed instead? #feminism

✨please do not repost or use in any AI programs✨

[achaotichuman]

"Elain saying “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male” clearly means she wants Azriel!!!"

"No she'll want Lucien!!"

"Azriel"

"Lucien"

WRONG WRONG WRONG ALL OF YOU

CLEARLY SHE WANTS A WOMAN, SHES LITERALLY SAYING EXACTLY THAT

GWYNETH BERDARA GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE AND SAVE YOUR WIFE

[acotargiftexchange]

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Artist: venusfolk

[1800naveen]

It's always "Elain will end up with Azriel!" "Elain will end up with Lucien!"

But what happens if Elain gets with Gwyn?

What are y'all gonna do now?

All this arguing just for these girls to be making out in the corner.

(Psst, I'm an elucien and gwynriel truther but this would be a funny outcome)

[tadpolesonalgae]

do you think you'd ever be inclined to write a non-reader fic for gwynlain 👀 (asking for totally unselfish reasons 🤞🤞🤞)

So, I hate to disappoint (stick with me), but personally writing x reader stuff is so much more fun!

With character x character stuff there isn't really any leeway? Or, like, the same margin of error as there is when writing x reader stuff? Throwing a reader into the acotar universe allows (for me) at least a little space and reason for why characters might be acting a little ooc, but with character x character stuff, since all the focus is actually on the characters themselves, I think you really have to have a good understanding of the ones you're writing which would just stress me out endlessly :')

That being said, have a few paragraphs of gwynlain intimacy because they're adorable and this is a one time thing:

Warnings: oral

Gwyn’s rosey lips gleam with arousal, pink tongue pulling the flavour into her mouth before leaning forward once more, running her tongue up Elain’s centre. Trailing the hardened tip in mean, teasing circles around Elain’s clit. Her legs tremble but Gwyn holds them still, making sure there’s plenty of room for her mouth to roam. 

A sweet, wanton noise slips from Elain’s lips, nipples stiffening as sensitivity tingles through her body, hips trying to incline themselves from the pillow Gwyn had guided her to seat herself upon. Teal eyes glitter with hunger, the priestess dipping lower between her lover’s legs to lick the gathering arousal from the velvet of the cushion, from the insides of Elain’s thighs, from her shivering cunt, so desperate for another stroke of Gwyn’s tongue. To feel the priestess’ gleaming lips suction themselves around her aching clit. 

Heat washes through Elain’s figure. Perspiration gathering between her breasts, in the divots beneath her knees, up the pathway of her spine. Coating her lithe form in a sheen of sweat. 

Elain should be used to Gwyn’s torturous nature by now, the slow heat of her tongue as it licks up her centre, the gentle push of pressure atop her clit while Gwyn plays with her, taking her time in pulling pleasure to the surface so the orgasm is a cool stream of water down her spine, a relief that satiates the tightness in her body rather than an obliteration that leaves her drained and sleepy after. 

Gwyn prefers it when she’s coherent enough to be put through another round.

Elain cries out when her lover pulls away, hot breath puffing dejectedly from rosey lips, honey-brown brows curving upward pleadingly as Gwyn crawls up from between her spread legs, guiding her back onto the bed, the mattress dipping either side of Elain’s head as Gwyn’s knees press down. Pale fingers lovingly soothe through the dampened ringlets of hair, nails scratching lightly as the priestess smiles, looking down at the pretty female held beneath her cunt. Just a few inches shy, but Elain’s already begun to calm now the scent of arousal is on the tip of her tongue.

“You’ve already had all your rewards,” Gwyn murmurs, stroking her thumb across the female’s brow. 

“It’s your turn to give.”

[thebookishgaymer]

I’m picturing Az begging Lucien to thrust harder while Lucien pins Az’s arms above his head and Lucien’s long hair brushes against Az’s sensitive wings and makes Az writhe in pleasure.

P.s. Gwyn is eating Elain out in the kitchen (they were supposed to make dinner for the 4 of them to have a double date)

[stargirlie25]

Guys i feel like crackships are the most fun part of this fandom so ima share my favs

Azris (this would be hilarious)

Eris x nuan (That acowar scene lives rent free in my head)

Nesris (My misunderstood older siblings :()

Nezriel (Az is sweeter to Nesta than cass is)

Feycien (would have been hotter then feysand and feylin)

Gwynlain (just to spite their haters)

Tamlin x Eris ( i don´t know i just thought of it but i like the vibes)

Jassa (only reason this is a crackship is because they have not had scenes like gwynriel or elucien but they have lots of potential)

Emerie x balthazar (we need a poc couple also just like eris and nuan that scene in acosf? In my head always)

I have more but i´ll let this sit

[gwynlain]

Elain: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Gwyn!

Gwyn: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

[velarisbynight]

Silvery Pink And Powdery Blue

Gwyn x Elain

Day 1 for @acotar-omegaverse-week — Nesting: Surely there's a perfectly normal, completely unsuspicious reason they're feeling an irresistible urge to arrange and rearrange the blankets and pillows... right?

a/n: have I ever mentioned how much I adore Gwynlain? 

word count: 1.7k~

~~~~~~~~

“This would be perfect, don’t you think?” 

Pink, rosey lips curve in a smile, the cocoa-eyed female presenting a rectangular teapot clutched delicately between her hands. It seems to be fashioned after a house, with creamy-pale bricking, and lush green vines clambering up the sides; clusters of four, small, powdery blue squares are set into the ceramic work to act in the stead of glass panes; a single, rouge door is in the centre of each of the longest sides, matching the hue of some of the flowers that have been lovingly painted on. 

“Are you thinking of it as a gift?” Gwyn asks, eyeing the teapot, remembering the two others she’s bundled to the back of a shelf: one pale with fat dots of colour spotted across its glazed, round body; another painted in a shimmering, rose pink. 

Straw-coloured brows draw together atop pale skin. “No, I was thinking of it for us. Wouldn’t it go perfectly beside the vase? The one we found in that mountain-top marketplace in Dawn.” 

Gwyn smiles. “But what would we do with our other three? We hardly have need of one teapot between the two of us, let alone four.” Elain’s brow pinches further, pink lips pressing together. Cocoa eyes dip briefly away, before fixating on Gwyn’s teal set.  “Don’t you think it would look nice, though?” 

Gwyn takes a moment to pause. Look at her wife properly. Then she elevates her chin by a singular degree, carefully softening her own expression, a thought passing tentatively through the back of her mind. “I think the teapot’s lovely, but let’s look around some more. Then we can see what else there is on offer and think on this one.” Elain sighs, setting back the teapot where she found it. “I suppose that would be the more sensible option.” Then she glances back to her wife, “don’t let me forget it?” Gwyn smiles, teal eyes dazzling as they twinkle with affection. “I’ll remind you.” 

————

Throughout the pleasantly heated morning, Gwyn observes as her wife flitters about the market place, eyeing up patchwork quilts with gaudy red stitching then fluttering over to a different blanket, one comprised of  the recycled fabrics of various coloured shirts; Elain peeks at pillow covers, ones with burnished gold tassels, others with rabbits in strawberry patches embroidered to the front, briefly assessing a floral case with bumblebees stitched along the hemming. The cocoa-eyed female browses silverware engraved with tessellating patterns that look like honeycomb, crockery with dashes and dots of warmly-coloured ink strokes painting the pale ceramic, more teapots and more sugar cups, tiny golden utensils fit for spooning crystallised honey or slicing squares of softened butter. 

Gradually, the belief in the thought strengthens, and Gwyn begins compiling a mental checklist of foods they’ll likely need to get in—ones that require minimum effort to put together. Perhaps some cordials, too. 

“Gwyn!” Elain calls, drawing her attention. Her wife has now moved onto clothes, and is holding aloft two silk pyjama shirts, one pale pink, the other powdery blue. Gwyn can’t help the affectionate curve of her tips as she paces over to stand at her wife’s side. “What do you think?” Elain contemplates, “I know we have a few sets, but will you feel these?” Gwyn smiles, taking the fabric between her fingers, feeling the cool slip of silk beneath her skin. She can’t deny how her heart beat quickens whenever Elain suggests something like this of her own volition, in this case it being mismatching sleepwear. They seem fairly light, too, and breathable, though that’s likely why Elain picked them out in the first place. She excels at seeking out perfect clothing on a good day, but now, with…something happening… 

But they’ll tackle that when they get home. For now, it’s a pleasant day at the market. 

————

When evening falls and food is prepared, the two take up position on the sofa, a plate balanced on either end with forks in one hand and books in the other. It doesn’t take long once Elain has finished her meal however, to sidle closer to her wife, curling her body into the dips and divots available, seemingly only half interested in the book she’d selected for the night. 

Gwyn smiles, glancing down at her omega, nosing lightly at the crown of her head. Elain releases a sound of contentment, pressing closer still, almost preening at the attention. Gwyn’s eyes twinkle knowingly, discarding her own book to pull her wife closer. “Tired, yet?” Gwyn murmurs, dropping a kiss to Elain’s forehead when she pulls back. “A little… I don’t want to go to bed yet, though.” 

“What do you want to do?” 

Elain’s eyes twinkle, and Gwyn’s blood heats at that look. But then Elain’s simply tucking herself closer, practically in her wife’s lap now, pushing her face to the crook between Gwyn’s shoulder and neck, huffing faint, ticklish breaths against the creamy skin. “You smell so good…” Elain murmurs, sounding how she gets around the afternoon, drowsing in their garden atop a picnic blanket, laying beneath dappled shade with a chilled glass of cordial at her side. 

Garden-roughened palms push at Gwyn’s neckline, urging the fabric out of the way so as to unveil more skin, to taste and scent. Sure enough, Elain breathes in the familiar fragrance of her wife’s skin, able to differentiate between the shea butter and vanilla essence shower oils they have contained to a little metal rack in their washroom, and the distinctive crisp freshness of the outdoors that has returned to Gwyn’s skin after two years of shying from it. 

Clipped-down nails loosen the strings to Gwyn’s dress, pulling them free lace by lace until Elain can push the fabric down from full, rounded shoulders, revealing the swell of muscle on her upper arms, the freckles that speckle her skin from days spent training in the early morning heat of summer. Elain trails the pads of her fingers along her wife’s collar bone, her pink lips skimming just behind, nosing along the elegant length of her throat. Elain’s tongue follows soon after, thighs shifting so her knees are either side of Gwyn’s hips, hands sweeping bright-coloured hair out of the way to make room for her mouth. 

“Elain…” Gwyn murmurs, allowing her palms to open along the curve of the omega’s spine, fingers dancing a skipping march until they reach lower, one hand laying appreciatively atop the swell of her hind while the other travels midway up her back, stroking in circles. Elain’s scent has sweetened since this morning in the marketplace, her body feeling much more tender beneath Gwyn’s reverent palms. 

Elain kisses her way up the length of Gwyn’s throat, pausing beneath her arched ear, nipping lightly at the lobe. Teal eyes gaze back at her when she pulls away. “Bed?” Elain murmurs, a drowsy smile on her soft, pink lips. Gwyn nods back, content to find what mischief Elain will unknowingly seek out once they reach their bedroom. 

Sweet omega. 

————

As Gwyn had predicted, Elain spends the better part of an hour shuffling pillows around on their bed, swapping out cushions from sofas, and borrowing blankets draped over the backs of armchairs. 

Gwyn waits peacefully, bathed in that powdery blue silk, watching as silvery-pink flits around the bedroom. It’s certainly come earlier that either of them would have expected, but it’s no matter. 

When Elain finally comes to a pause, anxiously glancing over the wrappings, Gwyn takes her chance, silently stepping up to wrap blue arms around a pink torso. “That looks perfect.” Gwyn murmurs, pushing a kiss to her mate’s somewhat flushed cheek. “Do you think so?” Blunt enamel tugs at the plushness of Elain’s lower lip, “it’s missing something…” 

“Probably its occupants.” 

Elain huffs, shimmying out of her wife’s hold before making her way over to the armoire, nosing through the clothes until she finds what she’s looking for: a thickly woollen scarf Gwyn’s certain she hasn’t worn since the chill of the early new year. Cocoa eyes brighten with their find, hurrying over to the bed to trail it between the two healthy stacks of pillows. Elain beams, stepping back. “Now it’s perfect.”

Gwyn smiles secretively to herself, wondering if Elain’s aware of what’s going on, or if this is all instinctual for her. It’s certainly happened in the past where it’s taken a few days of supposed ‘spring cleaning’ for it to dawn on either of them, though those short days were swiftly overtaken with locked doors and messy floors, clothes strewn across the lovely carpet. 

Gwyn follows when Elain settles into her nest, the sheets and blankets pooling around her middle before she wriggles down into the comfort, pressing her face to the woollen scarf. 

“It’s certainly cozy,” Gwyn comments as she tucks her omega closer, noticing a further shift in her scent. “You like it?” Elain murmurs, fatigue evident in the heavy droop of her eyelids. 

“It’s perfect.” Gwyn presses a kiss to the soft crown of burnished gold ringlets. “The perfect nest.” 

A beat passes between them, Elain’s tender body briefly stiffening, before she’s groaning loudly, tilting her chin upward to gaze into amused, twinkling teal eyes. “How long have you known?” Elain huffs, laying her palms flat to Gwyn’s stomach, pushing gently at the muscle beneath her fingertips. Gwyn’s lips stretch into a smile, her eyes crinkling at the edges as she dips down, their brows almost touching. 

“Only since this morning,” Gwyn whispers, doing nothing to fight the grin on her features. “This morning, Gwyneth?” Cocoa eyes gaze up at her wife, pretty pink lips parted in indignant disbelief. Gwyn chuckles, squeezing her omega tighter, feeling the fluttering pulse beneath her calloused touch as she guides ringleted hair from Elain’s neck, sweeping it over a silken shoulder. “It was only a thought,” Gwyn reassures. “I wasn’t certain until you mentioned my scent. And spent upwards of an hour rearranging our bed—that looks wonderful.” Gwyn takes care to stress that last part, so as to not upset her mate. 

Elain narrows her sleepy eyes, but eventually the mild scowl gives way to a resigned sigh. “It’s not supposed to be here for another fortnight,” Elain huffs, giving into the soft pull of her wife’s touch, pressing against Gwyn’s chest. “I guess it decided to come early this time,” Gwyn muses, stroking Elain’s hair. 

Narrow, elegant lips curve, mischief twinkling in teal eyes as she breathes in the already sweetening scent of her omega. “I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

[romanticatheartt]

One thing I hate about this ship-war is pitting Gwyn and Elain against each other. That side proving how Gwyn isn't relevant to the story and this side saying Elain is boring and useless.

Or when this side make memes (or even bring it into their fanfics if they're petty enough) about how Gwyn snatched Azriel from Elain and make Elain sound like a jealous ex and that side make Gwyn this evil creature just for Elain and Gwyn fight OVER A MAN!!!!

This is where I draw the line and I don't care if we share the same opinions you're blocked babes...